Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

chapter twenty-two

It was mid-morning when Jack let Danny inside Natasha’s apartment.

“Louie wants to talk to you!” said Danny, handing Jack a bag containing his clothes.

“I’m not surprised. We’ll go back to my place and I’ll call him from there.”

“I was supposed to wait until Natasha looked at you. Maybe we should leave a note.”

“She’s working until four-thirty. I found a spare key on top of the fridge, so I’ll be able to lock up. I’ll talk to her later.”

Danny stared at Jack, then said, “She’s a smart girl – and damned attractive.”

Jack looked at Danny, then said, “I noticed. Now take me home. We’ve got work to do!”

Back in his own apartment, Jack looked at the information that Danny had found on Wizard, Rolly, and Lance. Wizard was forty-five years old and had four convictions for trafficking in drugs: fines on the first two, thirty days in jail for the third, and six months of house arrest for the last time. A month later he was charged with armed robbery, but it was dismissed. Jack pointed to the report and said, “Why?”

“Lack of evidence,” said Danny. “The only witness was killed in a hit-and-run accident. Wizard is also a suspect in three murders. Those victims were all drug dealers.”

“Probably a little tardy in their payments.”

“He changes addresses and girlfriends about as often as you’d change your shorts.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“He maintains a pretty high lifestyle,” continued Danny. “Most of his apartments have been penthouse suites. He also drives a Ferrari.”

“Does he work?”

“Fisherman. He owns a crab boat out in White Rock. It’s paid off, too.”

Jack looked at Rolly’s file. “Thirty-seven years old. Convicted for drug trafficking, break and enter, armed robbery, assault causing bodily harm, extortion … a regular pillar of society.”

“He owns an older-style house on a double lot in North Van.”

“Mortgage?”

“Nope. He paid it off one year after moving in. Lists his occupation as a mechanic. Spends two days a week at one of the bike shops owned by the club. He’s been living with some stripper for the last two years.”

“Another boy not smart enough to hide his money.”

Jack then picked up the file on Lance Morgan. “This is interesting: he’s thirty-nine years old and his record is mostly for auto theft, fraud, false pretences, impaired driving, and one charge of trafficking, which was dismissed.”

“He was caught with two kilos of cocaine in a rental vehicle,” Danny explained. “He took the stand and gave the usual story that someone who rented the car previously must have left it in there. The judge said it was enough for reasonable doubt and dismissed the case.”

“He only served a one-month sentence for auto theft, strictly provincial. He’s never seen the inside of a federal pen.”

“He’s still a badass,” said Danny.

“By the looks of his record he’s not as violent as his partners.”

“Or he’s just smarter and hasn’t been caught.”

“I’m looking for someone smarter. What else do you have on him?”

“He’s married to some waitress, and they’ve got four kids. He owns an arcade, and they’ve got a modest home just outside of Vancouver. I think it’s in…”

“Surrey,” said Jack, studying the report.

“Yeah, it’s just an average house with a big mortgage.”

Jack slowly sifted through the file again.

“So? What are you thinking?” asked Danny.

“I want to know more about Lance Morgan. See if he owns any companies or whatever. An arcade is a good business for laundering money. It would be tough to prove how many kids are dropping how many quarters into all those machines. Lance may be a lot smarter than his cohorts. He also has a family. This could be our chance.”

“Our chance to do what?”

The telephone interrupted Jack’s reply.

“All right, Jack! What the hell are you up to?”

“Oh … Louie! How are you?” replied Jack, catching the worried look on Danny’s face.

“Don’t give me that crap! What are you up to?”

“Didn’t Danny tell you? I took a few days off to go fishing.”

“Bullshit! I didn’t say anything to him in case he believed it. But I sure as hell don’t!”

“Well … I’m fishing for bad guys.”

“Jesus, you drive me nuts sometimes. I’ve been listening to the news, reading the papers – even the obituary columns – trying to figure out where you were or what you were up to. I’ve been phoning for two days. If you’ve been down to the States again, so help me I’ll —”

“No, no, Louie! Relax! There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been spending a lot of time on the street. Only at home to sleep.”

“So everything is okay?” asked Grazia suspiciously.

“You bet.”

“Did you catch any?”

“Catch any?”

“Bad guys. You said you were fishing for bad guys.”

“Had a few nibbles. Nothing solid, but I’ve got a feeling in my bones that we’re on to something.”

Natasha was in a grim mood as she drove home from work that evening. Usually she enjoyed a warm autumn rain. It made her feel cozy when she sat beside her fireplace with a glass of wine. Today was different. The rain only served to accent her feelings of despair, along with a dyspeptic stomach that gnawed at her like a disease.

She had picked up sandwiches at the deli and rushed home at lunchtime, hoping to surprise him, only to find her apartment empty. The ungrateful swine could have at least written a note to say thank you!

She felt the tears well in her eyes as she tried to force her office key into her apartment door. She changed keys, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

She looked on the counter as if by magic there might be a note, but there was nothing.

But something had changed. She looked again. Her kitchen felt warm, and her stereo was playing quietly in the living room.

“Hi,” Jack said softly, appearing from the living room.

He was clean-shaven and dressed in a navy blue suit accented by a burgundy tie and handkerchief. He held a solitary long-stemmed red rose in his hand.

He looked at her face and dropped the flower on the counter, stepping forward.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she said, then kissed him and let him hold her tight before pushing him away and picking up the long-stemmed rose. “Is this for me?”

“No, I thought it was Danny coming in.”

She saw the grin on Jack’s face and smiled back. “Where’s your sling?”

“I’m okay as long as I don’t jar it.”

“You can cook?” asked Natasha, while retrieving a vase from her china cabinet.

“I’ve taken a few courses. French, Italian, Thai, but being a one-armed gourmet is something new. My repertoire is small, but I like to think it’s good.”

Natasha noticed that the gas fireplace was on. Her table had already been set, with two new candles alongside her dishes. Romantic music drifted softly through the room. “Give me a minute to change,” she said.

Natasha liked the look on Jack’s face when she reappeared wearing a black chiffon dress, a pearl necklace accenting her long dark hair.

The candles had burned to the bottom by the time dinner was over. Crab-stuffed mushroom caps were followed by a beef roulade accompanied by mushroom gravy. The wine was a pinot noir. It was a good match for the food. The main course was followed by latticed chocolate rum pie. Natasha found the whole meal a sensual experience.

After dinner, Natasha sat on the sofa while Jack went to the kitchen. He appeared moments later carrying a silver tray, upon which were two glasses of flaming liqueur.

“Sambuca,” he said, putting the tray on the coffee table and sitting down.

She moved closer to him on the sofa and watched the rain running down the outside of her patio doors. The glass caught the flickering reflection from the fireplace. The rain seemed beautiful again and gave a feeling of intimacy.

She felt his arm wrap around her bare shoulder, coaxing her body closer. The musky, haunting smell of his cologne aroused her senses. She enjoyed the feel of his warm hand on her shoulder as she snuggled in.

She raised the sambuca to her lips and watched as the clear liquid picked up the light from the fire, shimmering like diamonds. Three coffee beans floating on top glistened below the blue flame dancing above. She marvelled at it for a moment, then caught the shine in Jack’s eyes as he held his glass up, giving a silent toast.

She gave a small breath to blow out the flame and let the licorice flavour of the liqueur explore her mouth before warming its way down her throat. She looked intently into his eyes, then put her glass down and took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom.

She felt his naked body next to hers as he lay on his side, softly touching her face before gently kissing her on the temple. She felt his hand gently glide up the inside of her thigh and then slowly trail up the rest of her body. The underside of his arm brushed her nipples and she felt them harden to his touch. His scent filled her lungs and she could almost taste him, wishing he were inside her.

Finally he kissed her again. She responded with a lustful hunger but felt him pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I keep forgetting you’re injured. Did I…”

His placed his finger lightly on her lips, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” he said softly. “I just want to remember this moment forever.”

Their mouths found each other again and her passion grew with intensity until it exploded when she felt him inside her. When they were finished, she lay with her head on his chest, enjoying the feel of his hand as he continued to caress her body.

She was not totally unaccustomed to making love, but it had never felt so good and so right in all her life as it did tonight. Her body tingled again under his touch and soon she was aroused to a passion that, until now, was something she thought existed only in books and the fantasies of others.

chapter twenty-three

Lance Morgan locked the public door from inside his arcade and walked to his office in the rear. It was mid-week, and business had been slow. He flicked off the lights and opened the rear door leading into a small parking area behind the arcade.

The barrel of a shotgun rammed deep into his belly below the rib cage. He doubled over, his lungs paralyzed as his knees sunk to the floor. Danny stepped forward and with his free hand grabbed Lance’s hair and sent him sprawling backwards. Jack followed and flicked on the light to the office as the door swung shut behind him. He also carried a shotgun with a metal folded stock.

Lance looked up from the floor, still trying to catch his breath, and gasped, “Take it, guys, no need to hurt me. It’s only about four hundred bucks. Mostly coin. I’ll open it for ya,” he said, waving his arm toward a small safe in the office.

“You don’t remember me, do ya?” Jack barked out the words while stepping closer and sticking the barrel of the shotgun into Lance’s crotch.

Lance used his hands and feet to edge himself backwards on the floor. He stopped when Jack pushed the shotgun deeper into his crotch. His eyebrows furled as he stared up at Jack.

“One week ago, behind the Black Water,” Jack added.

The blood drained from Lance’s face. He whispered, “You’re Eddy!”

Jack smiled down at him. “So, how does it feel to be on the receiving end?”

“You ought to know,” said Lance bitterly. “Live by the gun, die by the gun. Just do what you came here to do, man. I had nothin’ against you personal, so just kill me an’ get it over with.”

“Tell you what,” snarled Jack. “Tell me why you tried to kill me and maybe I’ll consider letting you live!”

“Yeah, sure you will,” said Lance sarcastically. “Besides, you know the answer to that yourself!”

“I want you to tell me!”

“You’re a rat!”

“Who says so? Who told ya I was?” snapped Jack.

“I don’t know, I was just carrying out orders,” replied Lance defiantly.

“From who? Who were the two guys with ya? Fuckin’ talk, man, or I’ll blow ya away right now!”

“Fuck you. You’re gonna do me anyway. I’m not sayin’ nothin’, so you might as well get it over with!”

Jack raised the shotgun and pointed it directly at Lance’s face. Lance glared back. When he saw Jack’s finger slowly squeeze down on the trigger he closed his eyes. The seconds ticked by. When he opened his eyes he saw that Jack had lowered the shotgun.

“I got some news for you, Lance. I’m not going to kill you. But I might arrest you!”

“You what?” asked Lance, looking confused.

Jack and Danny produced their badges.

“You guys are cops!” A nervous laugh escaped his lips.

“Yes, I’m a police officer. My real name is Jack Taggart. For attempting to murder me, you could be looking at a long time in the crowbar hotel.”

“Oh, man,” said Lance, shaking his head, “I didn’t know you were a cop! I thought you were just a rat.”

“Well, this could be your lucky night, Lance, because if you become a rat, we’ll forget the whole thing!”

“What? You’d let me off tryin’ to kill ya? Just for me to rat out?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, but you’d be working for us for the next ten years. I think that’s fair. You’d be ours, body and soul. You lie to us just once or try an’ hide something from us and we feed you to the wolves!”

Lance reflected on the proposition, then gestured to a picture on his desk of his wife and four children. “I can’t. Go ahead and bust me. I got them to think about.”

“You’ve got my word. I will never arrest anyone or do anything if I think it will jeopardize your position. Once we haul you out of here it’s too late to change your mind. You could be looking at life in prison. You won’t be any good to your family in there.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate what you’re sayin’, but no, I’m still not turnin’ in my brothers.” He gave a weak smile, then added, “As they say, don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time!”

Jack picked up the picture of Lance’s wife and children. “I’m no psychic, but I have a feeling that if you don’t cooperate, you’ll be a widower soon.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll arrest you now and charge you with stealing the car. Considering your record, you’ll probably get about six months in jail. I’ll put in a good word for you so you’ll be out as soon as you’re eligible.”

“You’re only going to charge me with stealing the clunker?” Lance gave Jack a puzzled look.

“Later tonight,” continued Jack, “we’ll pick up Wizard and Rolly and charge them with attempted murder. They’ll end up getting life. Especially with the parole reports I’ll do on them.”

Lance gawked up from where he sat on the floor. “What do ya mean? You already know who they are? I tried to kill ya just as much as…” He stopped talking when he saw the grim smile creep across Jack’s face.

“You can’t! They’ll think I cut a deal with ya! That I gave ’em up to save myself!”

Jack nodded. “Life’s a bitch, ain’t it! Your own brothers, as you call ’em, will do you just like Lenny. Except with you, they’ll probably take it a bit more personal. I doubt they’d kill you as quickly as Lenny.”

Lance sat in a stunned silence, slowly shaking his head. Jack knelt down so they could look at the picture together.

“Nice family. Tell me, I’m curious to see what will happen. You know your bros better than I do. If we see to it you serve your time in protective custody, where they can’t get at you … what do you think they’ll do?”

“You fucking bastard! You know what they’ll do!”

“Oh, well,” said Jack, standing up. “What did you say? Live by the gun, die by the gun? Well I have one you can tell your family: If you fly with the crows, expect to get shot at.”

Lance’s face turned pasty white, and for the first time his trembling body betrayed his fear. He looked up and his voice quavered. “Okay, you guys win, but I gotta tell ya, you got someone on your side who’s talkin’. Someone big.”

Jack and Danny looked silently at each other for a moment, then Jack turned back to Lance. “We know there’s someone. Who is it?”

“I don’t know, man. I really don’t know.”

“Don’t give us that shit!” said Danny. “If you cooperate, you go all the way!”

“I am fuckin’ cooperating! Do you think I’m gonna fuck with you two, with what you’ll do if I lie? I really don’t know! Look at me, I’m shakin’ I’m so fuckin’ scared. If I knew who it was, I’d tell ya, just to make sure I stay alive! I told you I’d cooperate, and I will. I’m just sayin’ you better fuckin’ watch who you tell, ’cause I’m puttin’ my life in your hands!”

“We’ll be very selective on who knows,” said Jack.

“If you’re not, I’m dead.” He nodded toward the desk and asked, “Can I get up now and sit down?”

“Got a piece in your desk?” asked Jack.

Lance smiled briefly. “No, it’s not in my desk. It’s fastened in a holster under the drawer. I wasn’t gonna do you guys. I bet someone knows you’re here?”

Jack ignored the question as he retrieved the pistol from underneath the desk drawer. “Not a bad piece of hardware: 9 mm,” he said casually, before returning the pistol to where he had found it.

“You’re not takin’ it from me?” asked Lance.

“No, it would only inconvenience you until you got another one. We don’t want to change how you operate. We just want to be informed. So have a seat. We have a few questions.”

Lance got up off the floor, and after a few nervous glances at Jack and Danny, he pulled out the chair from the desk. He was careful to place his hands flat on top of the desk as he sat down. Jack sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at him, while holding the shotgun in one hand with the barrel pointing toward the ceiling. Danny stood to the side and held his weapon with both hands.

“So why, Lance? Why’d they try to kill me?”

“It wasn’t you! We thought you were a rat!”

“Who told you?”

“Wizard an’ Rolly. They have someone on the inside who lets them know what’s goin’ on. They call ’im The Suit. I don’t know his real name and have never seen him. He likes young broads. I heard Wizard and Rolly laughing about him one day. Does sort of a power trip on ’em. I think he uses a dog, too. Rolly used to handle the whores. I think that’s how they met the guy.”

Jack thought about Marcie. He became conscious that the bullet wound in his upper arm hurt and realized that his fist was clenched. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Lance continued, “This guy has been talkin’ for years, but except for maybe Damien, the rest of us don’t know who he is, just in case.”

“In case what?” asked Danny.

“In case you guys infiltrate the club somehow. Only a select few know what’s goin’ on.”

“Last week in the alley, how did Wizard and Rolly know what I looked like?” asked Jack.

“Wiz knew some bitch who knew you. Red’s her name. You must know her; she said you’d been buying from her.”

“I knew her.”

“She met us in a room at the BW about half an hour before we tried to do ya. She told us what you were wearing. Don’t think she could help ya now. Wiz had her pegged as a loose end. Said he was gonna take care of her.”

“She died of an overdose,” said Danny.

“I’m pretty sure Wizard gave it to her,” replied Lance.

“That’s what we figured,” said Jack. “How about Lenny? What happened with him?”

“It was the same way as you, except with Lenny, we didn’t have any problems. I drove. Wiz shot ’im with a .22. It was the middle of the day and people were around, so he used a potato for a silencer. Rolly carved him up after. If somehow he got past them and ran, then I was supposed to drive over him.” Lance looked at Jack. “Just like with you, except I didn’t expect ya to run toward me. I couldn’t drive over ya because that dumb, fat Rolly was right on your ass.”

“Does Wizard still have the gun?” asked Danny.

“Naw, he probably threw it in the ocean. He never keeps it once he’s done a job.”

“So tell me, Lance, who was it that blew up Crystal?” asked Jack.

“Crystal? Was that the whore on the freeway who tried to skip out?”

“Yes, that one,” said Jack, glancing at Danny. The knuckles on Danny’s hands turned white as he gripped the shotgun.

Lance took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Oh man, I just don’t know,” he mumbled, putting his elbows on the table and holding his head with his hands.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” yelled Danny.

“That’s not what I mean,” muttered Lance, shaking his head. “I just don’t know if I’m doin’ the right thing by talkin’. I didn’t mind about Lenny, ’cause I knew you had that one figured out, but…” His voice trailed off and there was silence as Lance grappled with his uncertainty.

Jack picked up the family picture. Lance eyed him nervously as he laid the picture down on the desk between Lance’s elbows. Lance looked down at his family. They disintegrated before his eyes as Jack smashed the butt of his shotgun into the glass. Splinters of glass sprayed out while other pieces tore into the faces on the portrait. Lance fell back in his chair. His eyes were wide and his mouth opened and closed. Fear and anger made him speechless.

Jack reached for the telephone and said to Danny, “I’m calling the office. We’ll have Wizard and Rolly arrested tonight.”

“It was Axle and Nails! Don’t call, man! I’m tellin’ ya, it was them!”

Jack was silent for a moment, then said, “There’s no going back now.”

Lance looked at the picture and sighed, then said, “Yeah, I know.”

Jack replaced the telephone receiver and asked, “What role did you play?”

“I had nothin’ to do with that one! Nails was in some special branch of the army. He knows all about makin’ bombs an’ booby traps.”

“Who besides Axle and Nails were involved?” asked Jack.

“The hit would have been sanctioned by Wizard or Damien, but I don’t think anyone else was involved. It’s not the sort of thing you normally talk about, but a few of the boys were called out to watch hospitals and clinics the night we tried to whack you. Axle was paired up with me. He’s still striking and he told me all about how Nails planted a bomb on her car. He wanted to know if I thought he would get his patch for what happened.”

“What role did Axle play?” asked Jack.

“He stood six while Nails planted the bomb.”

“That’s all? He was just a lookout?” asked Jack.

“He also drove and followed the whore until Nails detonated the bomb. Axle supplies us with hot cars when we need ’em. Whatever he was drivin’ when they followed the whore would have been stolen. It was Axle who got me the car we used on Lenny. The same goes for the Volvo I used for you.”

Jack leaned over, close to Lance’s face. Lance felt uncomfortable and started to roll his chair back, but Jack gripped the armrest. “What other murders do you know about?”

Lance swallowed, then said, “Well, two others for sure.”

“Start with the most recent one,” said Jack.

“They were both killed together, not too long ago.”

Jack found himself holding his breath, listening to every sound to come out of Lance’s mouth. This is it! His grip on the chair and shotgun became intense. His muscles rippled and the knife wound on his back oozed blood. He could see every blemish and pore on Lance’s face.

“It was a couple of Vietnamese guys,” continued Lance. “I don’t know their names, but they were brothers. They were startin’ to move a lot of speed on the west side. Real good stuff. Ice. We warned them to go someplace else, but they didn’t listen.”

“When was this?” Jack relaxed his grip and struggled to keep tears from appearing.

“It would be a year ago next week. I remember it because it was the Thursday before the May long weekend. Wizard has a boat out in White Rock. A big one, for fishin’ an’ crabbin’. My job was to bring a couple of oil drums an’ a wheelbarrow full of bricks out to his boat. We stuffed one guy in each drum, popped holes, weighed ’em down, and rolled ’em overboard.”

“You killed them on the boat?” asked Jack.

“Naw, actually I didn’t see who killed ’em and I didn’t ask. Wizard, Rolly, and I were already out on the boat. Wizard didn’t want to take a chance on haulin’ the bodies down the pier in White Rock. It’s too long and there’s lots of tourists. We left the dock an’ four of the guys delivered ’em to us in a speedboat. They were already dead. Shot once in the head. Wiz didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. There’s too many of them Asians, an’ they don’t give a fuck who they kill. Wizard decided it would be better if they disappeared, so we wouldn’t be startin’ any wars or anything.”

“Who were the four guys who delivered the bodies in the speed boat?”

“It was all guys from our chapter. Sparrow, Pan-Head, Halibut, an’ Rockin’ Ronnie. I think it was Rockin’ Ronnie who did ’em, but he’s dead now. Some old lady hung a left turn in front of ’im when he was ridin’ his bike this summer. He piled right into her.”

“What makes you think it was Rockin’ Ronnie who shot them?” asked Jack.

“Yeah, it’s kind of convenient,” said Danny, “the guy you say did it is now dead.”

“I didn’t say he fuckin’ done it, I said I think he fuckin’ done it!” replied Lance, glaring at Danny.

“Why?” asked Jack.

Lance looked back at Jack. “Well if Halibut had done it, he’d have probably gotten his patch soon after. But he’s still strikin’. That leaves Sparrow, Pan-Head, and Rockin’ Ronnie. I noticed that Rockin’ Ronnie had a fresh lookin’ DD tattoo about a week later. Sparrow and Pan-Head still don’t have one.”

“What tattoo?” asked Jack.

“The Dirty Dog. It first started about four or five years ago. You can earn it by doin’ a hit that’s sanctioned by the executive. It’s got to be verified, too.”

“The Dirty Dog,” Jack repeated. The words replayed through his brain.

“Yeah,” Lance replied. “I know he didn’t have it before, so I’m presumin’ that’s how he earned it.”

“How big is this tattoo?” asked Jack abruptly. “What does it look like? Could you see it, say, from across a room?”

“You could, if the lighting was good. I don’t have one, or I would show ya. It’s just the words Dirty Dog tattooed over the head of a pitbull. Most guys get it on their biceps, but if they already got a tattoo there, then they usually put it on their forearm.”

“Names!” Jack demanded harshly. “I want the names of everyone who has them!”

“I don’t know everyone for sure,” said Lance, nervously. “It’s not somethin’ most guys run around showin’ off right away, either. At least, not if they’re smart. Just off the top of my head, I’d say I know about six or seven guys who got it.”

“Write down their names!”

Lance slowly pulled open the desk drawer and retrieved a pen and a sheet of paper. A minute later, he pushed the list toward Jack. “There may be others, but these ones I know.”

Jack looked at the list: Wizard, Nails, Rockin’ Ronnie, Thumper, Whisky Jake, and Two-Forty Gordy.

“Who are Two-Forty Gordy, Whiskey Jake, and Thumper?”

“Just guys in the club. Different chapter than me. They’re from the east side. Two-Forty probably weighs three-forty now.”

“This is all of them?”

“All I can remember.”

“If you remember any more names, call me on my cell!” said Jack, ripping off a piece of paper and writing his number down. He stared intently at Lance’s face and asked, “The two Vietnamese brothers are the only other murders you know about?”

“Yeah. Them and Lenny and the whore on the freeway. I guess Red, too, if she was hit.”

“I don’t suppose the club, or the executive, keeps any list of who gets a Dirty Dog tattoo and when they get it?”

“Naw, are you kiddin’? Would be too risky in case it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Who does the tattooing?”

“A friend of the club owns a parlour down near the waterfront in Vancouver. He does all the club tattoos. It’s called Popeye’s. He’s had the place for years.”

Jack nodded, then asked nonchalantly, “By the way, who handles the speed coming in from Montreal?”

“Hey! I’m impressed! You know about that already? We only got that started a couple of months ago!”

“Tell us what you know about it. When’s the next shipment due?”

“Not much to tell. We either pay cash or swap blow for speed with our brothers in Montreal. Someday we’ll get our own labs out here, but for the moment, the French shit is excellent. Wizard went to Montreal and set up the original connection. I think we’ve only done one deal so far. Fifty keys is what Rolly told me.”

“Rolly is handling it?”

“He picked up the first shipment to make sure everything went smooth. It came by train. I think another shipment is due this Friday. They’ll probably get one of the strikers to handle it now. Likely either Halibut or Dragon.”

“No problems with the first shipment?” Jack studied Lance’s face carefully.

“Not as far as I know. That’s some of the same stuff you were buying from Red.”

“You guys got any heavy connections an hour or so drive out in the Valley? Someone that Rolly may have dealt with on that first shipment?”

“Nobody that I know of. I don’t think he would make a big delivery out there. Maybe some of the strikers got some people. I don’t know everyone.”

“Would it draw any heat on you if this next shipment gets taken down?” asked Jack.

“Don’t think so. Especially if it’s a striker. They might think the heat came from Montreal.”

Jack stood up and said, “Stay in touch. We’ll talk again in a couple of days.”

“I won’t be around if it’s this coming weekend.”

“Why not?”

“We’re taking our hawgs out for one last run before winter. Headin’ up to the interior for a big bash. Leavin’ Friday afternoon and comin’ back Sunday. Pretty well the whole club is going. Taking our ol’ ladies along too.”

“Then go. But if we find out you’re holding anything back on us, you’re dead meat.”

Lance didn’t respond, so Jack said, “Did you hear me?”

“I’ve got ears,” he replied sullenly.

When Jack and Danny were at the door, Lance asked, “So tell me, man, how close did we come to doin’ ya? I thought Wiz plugged ya.”

Jack yawned, then said, “Got me once, but it ricocheted off my back and through my arm. Rolly slashed my back with a knife. It did more damage than the bullet did.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I guess a .22 is okay if you got it stuck in someone’s ear or the base of their neck, but I figure if they’d been usin’ a 9 mm, you wouldn’t have been so lucky.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. See you around.”

Lance sat and stared at the broken picture after Jack and Danny had left. He thought about Jack’s response to his last question. Tough motherfucker. Seems to tell it straight. For a moment it made him feel safer, then a wave of fear and shame overtook his brain.

Danny waited until they were in the car before turning to Jack. “You did it! Just like you said you would. You got somebody on the inside!”