Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"
Автор книги: Don Easton
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Текущая страница: 127 (всего у книги 141 страниц)
Chapter Thirteen
Dyck was in his office when Rose, Jack, and Laura arrived and he phoned for Constable Sue McCormick to attend the meeting. Dyck was cordial when Jack introduced Rose and Laura and directed them all to sit in chairs across from his desk.
Amanda’s investigative file was lying on his desk and Jack noticed Dyck tucking the manila folder containing the pictures back into the file as they took their seats. He had obviously been looking at the pictures again. By the look on his face, it was also obvious he was emotionally distraught over the situation.
“Let’s get to the point, shall we?” said Dyck, turning his attention to Jack. “Have you thought things over and are you going to give me the name of your informant?”
“No, sir, as I —”
“I ordered him not to,” interjected Rose.
Jack refrained from giving Rose a sideways glance. It would have made it too obvious that he had not been given that order.
“You ordered him not to?” repeated Dyck, staring at Rose.
Rose nodded. “I believe that, as upsetting as the circumstances surrounding the sexual assaults are, the need to ensure the informant’s co-operation in a more serious investigation preclude disclosure.”
“Have you any idea of the psychological damage the victim has gone through?” asked Dyck, pointing to the file. “I personally think it is outrageous that you would not help me catch this evil bastard. Have you not a shred of moral fibre in you?”
“Sir,” said Jack. “I would be willing to help you catch him if he attempts to strike again, but I gave my word that I would do nothing to assist in this specific case.”
“Really? And what do you intend to do to help?”
“I may be able to assist you to be in a position to be one step ahead if the perpetrator were to attempt to strike again.”
“I’m listening,” replied Dyck.
“First, I need a little information,” he said, looking at McCormick who looked at Dyck for a response.
Dyck nodded.
“You mentioned that there have been other attacks,” said Jack, opening his briefcase and removing the booklet of maps he had purchased the day before. “Are you familiar with those other cases?”
“Very,” McCormick replied. “The other four are ones we have positively matched as being the same culprit. They are also my cases.”
“As you can see, we are not only talking about one victim,” said Dyck, glaring at Rose. “We’re talking at least five. Although one should be plenty enough reason to co-operate with us.”
“I am aware of that,” replied Rose.
“Did the victims all live in apartments and did they all have children?” asked Jack.
“The last three lived in apartments and all had at least one child,” replied McCormick. “The first two lived in houses. Neither of them had children. In fact, the perpetrator almost got caught during the second attack when the husband came home from working until midnight at a convenience store. The perp heard the car pull up in the driveway and fled out the back door.”
“Which may have prompted him to change how he selected his victims,” said Jack. “Did the assaults take place on the weekends?”
“Only some,” said McCormick. “The last three were on Sundays, the second one was on a Monday, and the first one was on a Tuesday. I looked at a list of known offenders for some who may be working and have Sunday and Monday off, but with an assault on a Tuesday, it counteracts that theory.”
“I might have something for you,” said Jack, flipping to certain pages he had tabbed. They were all pages corresponding to the page numbers that Virgil had crossed off on the map booklet in his car. “I’ll show you different sections of the map,” said Jack. “I would like you tell me if your victims lived in the vicinity.”
“Yes, the fourth victim lives on that page,” confirmed McCormick as Jack held the booklet in front of her.
On the second page McCormick said, “Right again. The third victim lives there.” On the third page her reply was, “Nope, nobody there.”
Jack turned to the last page and said, “This one is where Amanda lives.”
“How do you know all this?” asked McCormick.
“It’s the parks,” said Jack. “Your suspect watches for women playing with their children in the parks on weekends. It leads him to the conclusion that they might be single parents. I believe he then follows them to see where they live and perhaps watches their place to confirm they are a single parent before making his move.”
“One of them was negative,” said McCormick, “meaning that another assault went unreported.”
“So how did you know about these specific areas?” asked Dyck.
“The perpetrator has a map with page numbers crossed off. Every page had a park. My guess is he doesn’t target the same area twice. If you do surveillance of other parks on weekends, you might spot him. I think if you flip either ahead or back a few pages, there is a good chance you will find where he would intend to strike next.”
“We don’t even know what he looks like,” said McCormick.
“A guy watching a park looks suspicious to me,” said Jack. “Perhaps he will still have the map and also the knife, but I would suggest you catch him in the act in case —”
“And if you’re wrong and he goes somewhere else?” said Dyck. “Not to mention that we hardly have the manpower to cover off all the parks. What we need, Corporal, is his name, so we can get a search warrant or follow him twenty-four-seven. It is time to quit screwing around!” He glared at Rose and said, “Give me the bastard’s name!”
“As much as I would like to,” said Rose, “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” said Dyck, slapping his hand on the desk in anger.
“Sir,” said Jack, “since we last talked, I believe I’ve uncovered the name of the first murder victim. More importantly, this morning I found out that the latest intended victim … a man from Seattle, is in Russia and may already be dead.”
“And your informant identified this person?”
“Not by name, but the victim is from Seattle and arrived in Moscow last week. I put in an urgent request to the Russian police to try and locate him. I believe the informant is reliable about the murders and feel compelled to uphold my promise not to assist the police in regard to Amanda Evans.”
“If you know about the so-called latest victim, then it sounds to me like you don’t need your informant anymore,” barked Dyck. “If any of this is actually true, at this point you should be able to piece it together without your informant.”
“I told you, I won’t work that way. I gave my word.”
“These other rapes committed by the same perpetrator didn’t involve Amanda,” said Dyck. “Give us the name of who attacked them.”
“No. Doing that would be the same as identifying Amanda’s attacker.”
“This is ridiculous,” said Dyck. He cast a glance at Rose and looked back at Jack and said, “Corporal Taggart, being as I outrank Staff-Sergeant Wood, I will rescind her order for you not to divulge the name. I am now ordering you again to tell me who your informant is.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Rose. “You do outrank us, but the three of us work in an Intelligence Unit on highly sensitive investigations. It involves organized crime, crooked politicians, judges, police officers … that’s just to name a few.”
“I really couldn’t care less,” snapped Dyck. “I outrank you, so consider it an order.”
“Let me point out,” said Rose, “that our security clearance is above yours. That, I believe, leaves us with some prerogative in what we decide to divulge.”
Jack looked at Rose with greater respect. It was an angle he hadn’t considered.
“That’s nonsense,” said Dyck. “I am a commissioned officer. I have top-secret clearance.”
“Sir, with all due respect there is a level above T-S,” said Rose. “Which everyone in my unit has.”
“Is that true?” Dyck asked, shocked.
“S-A,” said Jack.
Dyck looked back and forth at Rose and Jack. “S-A? What the hell is that?”
“Stands for special access,” said Rose. “Few people have it.”
Dyck was quiet for a moment, then glared at Rose. “Well, you better be telling me the truth, because the next meeting I will be scheduling will be with Assistant Commissioner Isaac!”
As soon as Jack, Laura, and Rose arrived back at their own office, the secretary told them that they were scheduled for a meeting with Assistant Commissioner Isaac and Inspector Dyck at nine o’clock Monday morning.
“He’s not a bad guy, really,” sighed Rose.
“Who?” asked Jack.
“The big dick. He’s compassionate and trying to do his job.”
“Think Isaac will back us?”
“Normally I would think so, but this is a really ugly situation. I don’t know. It could go either way.”
“You know I won’t divulge the informant’s name,” said Jack, adamantly.
“Then unless you’re thinking of switching to another career, it might be a good idea to get back to work. Maybe try to dig up more evidence to show that Paul Jennings didn’t really fall off his ladder through a plate glass window. At least not without some help.”
Minutes later, Jack returned to his own desk and discovered the urgent message to call Max Romanov. He dialled the number immediately.
“Yes, comrade. I call you two hour before,” complained Romanov.
“You should have called me on my cellphone.”
“I try. Number no good.”
Jack had Romanov repeat the number and corrected him on a number that was missing.
“Okay, maybe next time work,” said Romanov. “I have good news. I find your American. He’s name is Lorne Welsh. He in hotel here in Moscow. Room 812. Ben Pike stay in same hotel. Room 904.”
“Excellent! That is terrific,” said Jack. “Good work.”
“What you want I should do?”
“That’s really up to you how you want to handle it. It’s in your jurisdiction.”
“Okay, but if I help you, maybe I come to Canada to tell judge, yes?”
“If this goes to a murder conspiracy, you might be called to Canada to testify,” said Jack.
“And you pay for trip, yes?”
“Of course. Airline ticket. Hotels, meals, and expenses.”
“Good. What you think I should do now?”
“Do you know if Welsh is in his room?”
“I call room one hour ago to pretend I make mistake call. His phone busy.”
“Good. I would go to Welsh and warn him and see if he will co-operate. We need evidence. I would ensure there is a surveillance on him at all times. With his permission you could bug his room with audio and video.”
“His permission to do that? Why permission? You make joke?”
“Uh, yeah, guess things are different there. I would also suggest you get a room next to him for security. If there is any hint that things are leading up to something, you will need to save him. I am told they will try to make his death look like an accident.”
“Okay, I do what you ask.”
“How long is he booked into the hotel?”
“I don’t know. Hotel cheap. Not good. Many criminal go there. Police ask question and hotel no keep secret.”
“I understand. Please call me to let me know how it goes.”
“I call you in maybe one hour.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lorne Welsh spoke at length on the phone to his wife, Lindsay. He was pleased with what he had discovered and told her what he had learned since arriving in Russia.
“Think about it,” he said, “I’ve only been on the job two months and uncovered what could turn out to be a real fiasco for investors if they had decided to invest in the place I looked at. I bet Oskar will be pleased.”
“And the factory you were looking at makes car parts?”
“We wondered how they could produce things so cheap, now I know. It’s a huge factory west of a Russian city called Novozybkov. Over a thousand people were hired to work there in the last two years. They practically pay nothing for overhead and the wages are atrocious, even by Russian standards.”
“What twigged you to go back with a Geiger counter?”
“A tourist company in Novozybkov wanted to know if I would be interested in going into Chernobyl. It isn’t far from Novozybkov.”
“They take tourists there?” exclaimed Lindsay.
“For a quick visit to certain spots. The radiation is still too high in many areas.”
“Doesn’t strike me as a place I would want to go.”
“Me either, but I guess some people do. I imagine it is pretty eerie. A big city that was cleared out after one day. Sort of like a huge ghost town. Anyway, the factory I was checking out was in the prevailing wind path from Chernobyl. For how cheap the factory was being leased, well, I had a bad feeling and checked it out myself.”
“How could they allow that? To let people go in and work there?”
“I think some money must have been passed under the table for these guys to be allowed to open a factory there. The Russian mafia is pretty strong. The plant manager was upset when I brought out the Geiger counter.”
“You think he would be pleased. You might be saving his life, not to mention how many others.”
“I suspect the plant manager doesn’t spend a lot of time there. When the needle went into the danger zone, he tried to tell me it was a fluke, that sometimes the wind brought over a small trace of radiation and gave a false reading, but that was bullshit.”
“Hope you didn’t hang out there too long.”
Lorne chuckled. “Don’t worry, my hair isn’t falling out. Still,” he added, turning sombre, “I feel real sorry for the workers. Not only with working in that environment, but the economy is pretty bad here. Jobs are scarce. I feel bad about it, but I have to recommend it be taken off the list for ethical investments.”
“So when are you coming home? We miss you.”
“I miss you, too. They want me to stay a few days longer. With what I discovered, it’s possible they might be forced to shut down the plant and relocate somewhere else.”
“That would be good.”
“I have my doubts that it will happen, but they want me to talk to the head honchos in Moscow on Monday to see what they say. I bet they already knew about it. My guess is I’ll be flying home on Tuesday.”
“Just you and that security guy there?”
“Yeah, Ben Pike. What a disgusting creep he is. Kept trying to line me up with a hooker last night.”
“What a jerk.”
“No kidding. At least he’s leaving tomorrow. He was only here to ensure my security when I had to go out to the plant. I don’t need the likes of him around when I talk to the people on Monday. Anybody with any class would shun him.”
“Which is why they hired you. You’re a classy guy.”
“You got that right.” Lorne laughed. “And don’t you forget it.”
A few minutes after Lorne said goodbye, he answered a knock at his door. It was a grinning Ben Pike who stood there with a half-full bottle of vodka.
“Seeing as I’m heading out in the morning, how about a drink with me before I go,” he said, pushing past Lorne as he entered the room.
“I’m pretty tired,” said Lorne. “How about another time.”
“Might not have another time,” said Pike. “I’m only on contract, who knows when we’ll get to work again.”
“It’s really late.”
“Come on, just one,” said Pike. “I feel like I owe ya an apology for how I acted last night. I don’t know what got into me. I drank too much and got stupid.”
“It’s okay. Let’s forget about it.”
“It’s okay? Good!” smiled Pike. “So no hard feelings? You sure?”
“No hard feelings.”
“Then you will have a drink with me,” said Pike, walking over to a table with two chairs as he unscrewed the cap.
Loren sighed. “Just one,” he said, retrieving two glasses from the bathroom and putting them on the table. He watched as Pike poured a generous amount in each one. “Easy does it,” said Lorne. “Smooth or not, I’m still not used to drinking that stuff straight.”
“I think the trick is not to sip it. Treat it like a shooter.”
“Don’t know if I could handle doing that.” Lorne chuckled.
The two men sat down and Pike said, “I came by earlier and was about to knock, but it sounded like you were talking to someone on the phone.”
“I phoned Lindsay. Also was lucky enough to catch the kids at home from school on their lunch break.”
“Everything okay there?”
“Oh, yeah. Life is good.”
“Must be nice to have a family. What ya got? Boys or girls?”
“One of each,” smiled Lorne, taking a sip of vodka and making a face.
“Told you to chug it,” grinned Pike. “Try it,” he said, raising his glass. “When in Rome…”
Lorned smiled good-naturedly and joined Pike in drinking it all at once.
“Yeah, that’s the way to do it,” said Pike, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So tell me about your kids. How old are they?”
“Kelsey is in grade seven and Matt is in grade six.”
“Got pictures of ’em?”
“You bet,” said Lorne, pulling out his wallet and putting Kelsey’s and Matt’s school pictures on the table, before taking out a third picture of him and Lindsay together.
“Nice family,” said Pike, pouring them each another drink.
“Hey, one of those was enough for me,” said Welsh.
“Ah, come on. This will be the last one for me too, then I’m gone.”
“You go ahead. I’ve —”
“Bet you miss your kids,” interrupted Pike.
“Yeah, I really miss being apart from them. Wish I was heading home tomorrow too.”
“Actually I have some good news for you,” said Pike, standing up and looking out the balcony door. “You will be catching an earlier flight.”
“I will?” said Lorne in surprise.
“Yeah, stand up. I got something to show you.”
When Lorne got to his feet, Pike drove his fist deep into Lorne’s solar plexus, causing him to double over as the air exploded from his lungs. Pike’s next move was to ram the palm of his hand under Lorne’s chin, while delivering a blow with his other hand to the base of Lorne’s neck, breaking it instantly.
Before Lorne’s body could fall, Pike grabbed him by the arm and silently lowered him to the floor.
Pike smiled. “Yup, your flight is leaving right now.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was four o’clock Friday afternoon when Jack checked his watch. He knew it was only three o’clock in the morning in Moscow and would likely be a few hours before he heard back from Romanov. He looked across his desk at Laura and asked, “How you feeling?”
“Tired,” she admitted.
“Me, too. Let’s pack it in until Monday morning.”
“You don’t have to twist my arm on that. Do you think on Monday Isaac will order us disclose the identity?”
“If we are, how do you feel about that?” asked Jack.
“Same as you. Mixed feelings. I really want him to go to jail, but I want to catch these other guys before they do any more murders.” Laura saw Jack staring glumly down at his desk. She reached over and patted his hand and said, “Don’t worry, if ordered to divulge, I will refuse, same as you.”
“I’m not worried about you,” replied Jack. “You should know by now that I trust you implicitly.”
“Likewise, so what’s troubling you?”
“I was thinking of Amanda. Having met her and seen her picture … it kind of got to me.”
“Her picture?” asked Laura.
“Dyck showed me a photo taken of her immediately after her attack. Guess he thought it would prompt me to give him the name.”
“What a jerk.”
“He’s got a point, though,” said Jack. “We can’t let him strike again. We better be prepared to put some hours in and catch him the next time he goes to a park.”
“I’m all for that, but who knows how long it will take? You said yourself that we have probably scared him off for a month or two.”
“If he thinks we’re watching him, he will behave.”
“But he knows there’s no way we can watch him forever,” said Laura.
“I’m positive he will strike again,” said Jack bitterly. “It is all a question of when.”
“That would be the million-dollar question. Hopefully not until we are done investigating Oskar.”
“That would be nice.”
“Say we were done with Oskar. We still can’t spend the rest of our lives watching Virgil twenty-four-seven.”
“I know.” Jack gave Laura a hard look and said, “We won’t. Trust me on that.”
“Trust you?”
Jack nodded solemnly.
Jack was pulling into his garage when he saw Natasha walking down the sidewalk, holding hands with Mike and Steve. When he stepped from the car Natasha let go and both boys ran to meet him.
“Where were you?” asked Jack, after scooping a boy up in each arm and bouncing them.
“Mommy took us to the park,” said Steve.
“The park?” replied Jack, trying to sound enthused as the hair on the back of his neck tingled.
“I climbed the bars,” said Steve.
“You did? Well aren’t you the little spider monkey!”
The boys continued to chatter, but Jack tuned them out as they all went into the house. His initial fear for his family was quickly replaced with anger. Anger at a situation over which he had little control. He felt like he was sliding into a dark abyss. It was his decision … but was it the right decision and what would the future bring?
“Jack? Want to talk about it?” asked Natasha from the bedroom doorway.
“About what?” Jack replied automatically, trying to snap out of his reverie. He realized he was standing in the bedroom, staring at his pistol that he had placed in the dresser drawer. His memory of the last few minutes of greeting Natasha and walking inside were a blur.
“I said do you want to talk about it?” repeated Natasha. “I can tell that something bad has happened. Can you talk to me about it?”
Jack sighed. “I can give you the basic details.”
They sat on the bed and Jack told Natasha about how he and Laura turned a new informant and how the informant tried to prove his credibility by admitting to raping Amanda.
Natasha cringed, closing her eyes when she heard.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be unloading on to you.”
“I don’t like it because of how awful it is, but I like it less when you shut me out,” she replied. “At least I understand what is bugging you. We’re a family, we should be able to go to each other when we’re upset. I’ve come to you in the past.”
“What was worse was when I went to Amanda’s apartment block to check on the informant’s credibility, I had a chance encounter with her and her three-year-old daughter, Megan.”
“She has a daughter? You spoke to them?”
“Yes. Amanda wanted me to promise that I would catch the guy who attacked her. Christ, he was sitting in my car only a block away at the time.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing, I was too shook up. She saw that I was and thought it was because I really wanted to catch the guy. She was really compassionate toward me. Made me feel worse.”
“Well, she’s right that you’re upset. I bet you do want to nail the guy.”
“Nail him? I’d like to nail his balls to a stump and push him over backwards. I hate being in this position.”
“What does Rose think about it? Or does she know?”
“She knows,” replied Jack. He told Natasha about Dyck and the upcoming meeting on Monday morning with Assistant Commissioner Isaac.
“Well, thanks for telling me,” said Natasha.
“Thanks for listening,” said Jack, wondering if he felt better or worse for unloading on Natasha. Partly he felt weak that he couldn’t be psychologically strong enough to handle the situation and momentarily despised his insecurities. Another part told him that Natasha was his best friend and that he should be able to confide in her. He would be angry if the tables were turned and she hadn’t reached out to him. In his heart, he knew he would never survive in this line of work without her support.
“Now what are you thinking?” asked Natasha.
“About how much I love you and how lost I would be without you.”
“That sounds like a pat answer,” replied Natasha.
“It isn’t really. It’s straight from the heart. I respect your opinion.”
“Back at ya, big guy,” said Natasha, kissing Jack on the cheek.
Jack pulled away. Despite opening up to Natasha, he had not yet found the answer he was looking for. “Do you think I made the right decision? What would you have done?”
Natasha looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else would have done. Your decision was made in good faith. Let’s hope you can learn to live with it.”
“It’s really eating away at me,” admitted Jack.
“You wouldn’t be human if it didn’t.”
“Guess I better make sure I catch the people behind these murders.”
“That might help, but I doubt it would ever completely ease your conscience.”
“I think you’re right about that.”
“You’re also really tired. You’ve hardly slept all week. Maybe by Monday morning you will feel a little more refreshed.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s —”
Jack’s cellphone rang and he quickly answered when he saw that it was Romanov.
“Bad news comrade,” said Romanov. “Your American is dead. It only happen, maybe ten minutes before I got to hotel.”
“What happened?”
“He go over balcony. Smash head on sidewalk. I think American name Ben Pike, grab him and throw him over.”
“Any witnesses?”
“People on sidewalk almost get hit, but say when look up … do not see anybodies.”
“Where is Ben Pike?”
“He in room for interview. I talk to him. He say Welsh commit suicide. He say Welsh tell him he upset because maybe he have disease from prostitute. Pike drink with Welsh before it happen and hear this. Pike say he talk to him and think everything okay and go back to his room.”
“I think Pike is lying.”
“Welsh have pictures of his wife and two kids on table in his room, beside empty vodka bottle. Maybe he depressed.”
“That is what Pike wants you to think.” Jack thought of the first victim, Paul Jennings. Another man murdered with a family left behind …
“Maybe,” replied Romanov. “But we have no evidence on Pike. I tell him somebody in next room hear him fight with Welsh. It is a lie, but I try to, how you say … shake Pike up. He no afraid. He say he no fight at all. He not even ask to talk to American embassy.”
“Did any witnesses hear Welsh yelling when he was falling? Eight floors is quite a height.”
“Nobody hear nothing until big splat.”
“Then he was probably dead or unconscious before he was thrown over.”
“Unless real suicide,” said Romanov.
“I feel certain it wasn’t.”
“Okay. Maybe you are right. You want me arrest Pike? I make him talk.”
“That wouldn’t help us. We would never be able to get his confession admitted in court if it was given to you under duress.”
“Under my dress?” replied Romanov angrily. “I am a man! What you think? I am woman prostitute who —”
“Duress! It means what you would do to Pike to get him to talk.”
Romanov paused for a moment. “Oh, now I understand. You think I make him wear dress, he talk?”
“That’s not —”
“Never before I hear that. Other prisoners beat him,” said Romanov, thoughtfully. “That maybe work.”
“No, not dress,” said Jack, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “The word just sounds the same. It means anything you would do to him to make him talk if he did not want to talk to you.”
“Oh. No worry. I just beat him. I no kill him.”
“I know. We call that duress. That would really hurt our case. If we are going to catch the guys he works for in Canada and the United States, we need to go about this my way.”
“What is your way?” asked Romanov.
“Wiretap. For that, I want you to let Pike go. I need the bad guys to be relaxed and think they are getting away with it.”
“Will you still need me to come to Canada?”
“Yes, for sure if it goes to court. Maybe the United States, too.”
“Okay comrade. I no put Ben Pike in a dress. I let him go.”
“Thank you. One more thing. You said you had pictures of Welsh’s wife and kids. Please scan and email me copies.”
“Okay, comrade. I do that. I also send you picture of body that go splat on sidewalk.”
Jack’s frustration continued to build after he hung up. Welsh’s death was proof that he was on the right track. Except he would still be alive if I hadn’t been wasting my time talking to Inspector Dyck …
Jack felt his need for vengeance grow. He thought about the pictures that Romanov would be sending him. Am I doing the right thing about using them? … damn rights I am …