TURBO DETECTIVE STORIES
FROM EAST LOS ANGELES
DURING THE 1970s
Saving the Family Ranch
The Missing Mural
Rival Gangs
A Botanist Gone Missing
The Missing Muralist
The Family Farm is Under Attack
Keeping Olvera Street Original
The Missing Teacher
Run Run Run Run Runaway
Neon City’s Ghost
Malicious Computer Code
High-Speed Rail Incidents
THE MISSING MELODY
Human Trafficking
The case of the Missing Daughter
The case of the Missing Punk Rocker
The Missing Artifact
Vandals on the Loose
Finding Pablo
The Vanishing Daughter
The Tagger
Turbo Got in Over His Head
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FROM EAST LOS ANGELES DURING THE 1970s by Robert Nerbovig
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The hot California sun baked the cracked asphalt of the East L.A. streets. Turbo wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped out of his powder blue Chevy Corvette Convertible, which had been completely restored, after competing on the local drag strips, Irwindale and Pomona raceway. Turbo a devoted car enthusiast, bought the corvette and completely restored it. It has a 500 Cu. Inch Moroso motor, 4” bubble hood, 2” dropped front end, new interior, new paint, Goodyear 60 tires, American Mags, and a 3000 RPM stall-speed on the torque converter. Despite the 1970s being in full swing, the “barrios” hadn’t changed much since the 50s. Lowriders cruised the boulevards, hydraulics hitching up the rear wheels. As Chicano rap and funk rhythms filled the air, creating a unique soundscape that resonated with the people on the street. The tantalizing aroma filled the air from the street vendors and the open windows of shops selling tamales and raspadas. If you listened closely, you could almost hear the melancholy notes of oldies drifting up from backyard barbecues. Turbo is about 5'8" with a muscular and athletic build, his ruggedly handsome face features striking brown eyes and a strong jawline, his hair is naturally dark brown, and is typically styled in a short, cropped cut. Turbo will often sport a light stubble or well-groomed beard. As he stepped out of his car he straightened his leather jacket, his eyes sweeping across the familiar landscape. This was his turf - he knew where every pothole was, and how every graffiti tag held a story. Those sleazy joints masquerading as respectable businesses, couldn’t fool him. As a private eye in this gritty part of town, he encountered all sorts: from the Gangbangers, hustlers, and those housewives that were getting a little too friendly with the milkman. He checked his surroundings once more before lighting up a lucky Strike. This was another day of solving cases and keeping the city's seedy underbelly in check. A slow smile crept across Turbo's face, let the fun begin he murmured as he flicked away the match. Let the fun begin. Each case was different, a microcosm of the simmering tensions of East LA. Turbo navigated a world of suspicion, petty crime, and misplaced dreams. His office became a confessional booth, a stage for the city's hidden stories. By the end of the month, the tamales had been replaced by a dented coffee pot, this change is a concession to the endless nights spent tailing philandering husbands, tracking down stolen guitars, and searching for a runaway daughter. Saving the Family Ranch A new client appeared at the door, Cat Cordero he was a grizzled old man with a weathered face and wearing a worn old black cowboy hat. Like a story reminiscent of the old West, he sat down, and his story began to unfold like a forgotten Western. His ranch, the heart of his family for generations, was under threat from Blake Morgan a Developer, known for seeking inexpensive land, and posed a threat to the ranch that had been the heart of his family for generations, nestled in a valley untouched by the city's sprawl, was under threat from a ruthless developer with a taste for cheap land. Turbo looked at the man, another victim of a city constantly pushing its boundaries, and a weary sigh escaped his lips. He knew what he had to do. The grizzled rancher, Cat Cordero he was a grizzled old man with a weathered face and wearing a worn old black cowboy hat. Like a story reminiscent of the old West, he sat down, and his story began to unfold, Cat, sat across from Turbo, his weathered face etched with worry. His ranch, the heart of his family for generations, was under threat from Blake Morgan a Developer, known for seeking inexpensive land, and posed a threat to the ranch that had been the heart of his family for generations, nestled in a valley untouched by the city's sprawl. Turbo looked at the man, another victim of a city constantly pushing its boundaries, and a weary sigh escaped his lips. He knew what he had to do. Morgan, a man with a shark-like grin and a reputation for dirty tactics, offered a pittance for the land, a sum that barely covered the property taxes. The days seemed to stretch endlessly, the heat causing the asphalt to shimmer like a mirage. This case was different. It wasn't about stolen goods or missing persons. It was about a fight for a way of life, a battle against the relentless tide of progress that threatened to swallow whole the quiet dignity of Mr. Cordero's ranch. A flicker of something akin to nostalgia flickered in Turbo's eyes, Turbo understood the rancher's attachment to the land, the deep-rooted connection transcending mere ownership. The days seemed to stretch endlessly, the heat causing the asphalt to shimmer like a mirage. Turbo, ever the resourceful investigator, dug into Morgan's past, He discovered a trail of broken promises and dubious land deals, a pattern of exploiting legal loopholes and intimidating landowners. The rancher, despite his calloused hands and quiet demeanor, possessed a fierce determination to protect his heritage. A breakthrough came from an unlikely source - a disgruntled ex-employee of Morgan's, a woman named Velia who felt cheated out of her fair share in a previous land deal. Velia, fueled by a desire for revenge and a sense of justice, shared incriminating documents that exposed Morgan's plan to exploit a hidden mineral deposit on the Cordero ranch. Armed with this information, Turbo and Cat Cordero approached the local environmental commission. They presented a compelling case, highlighting the ecological significance of the untouched valley and the potential damage Morgan's development plans could wreak. The rancher's passionate plea, combined with Velia's damning evidence, swayed the commission. An injunction was placed on the development, putting a temporary halt to Morgan's bulldozers. Cat Cordero, with a grateful nod and a calloused hand extended in thanks, bid Turbo farewell. The victory felt significant, a small win against the forces of unchecked greed. Yet, Turbo knew the fight wasn't over. Morgan, a man with a vindictive streak, wouldn't go down easily. 
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