Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

chapter three

Danny O’Reilly looked like he had stepped out of a recruiting poster for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police as he stood outside the main entrance to the hotel in downtown Winnipeg. His red tunic was tailored to fit perfectly, and his deep brown leather riding boots equipped with silver spurs gleamed in the afternoon sun. He was shorter than most police officers, but it wasn’t too noticeable when he wore his riding boots.

Danny was looking forward to his transfer to the West Coast. It was no secret that he hated Public Relations. Today he was to open the door of a limousine when it arrived and salute the prime minister as he stepped out. A mannequin could have performed the same function. Any real threat or danger was to be handled by the plainclothes officers. Not that any serious threats had been identified.

He stared at the media and leaned slightly forward on his toes to relieve the pressure points on his heels, then used his brown leather gloves to dab at the perspiration that escaped from under his stetson.

He caught the hand signal of one of the plainclothes members of the VIP Security Detail. Estimated time of arrival for the prime minister was three minutes. About bloody time. He glanced at his watch. The PM’s flight had been delayed, and it was two hours past the time that he had promised Susan he would be home.

Danny thought back four months to when Tiffany was born. He recently bought Susan a gift certificate for a massage and manicure. As a new mom, she really appreciated the idea. She had booked the appointment for this afternoon. She wouldn’t be happy about missing it.

The spurs on Danny’s boots jingled when he snapped to attention as the lead cars in the procession of limousines arrived in front of the hotel.

Danny was unaware that fate would alter his life within seconds, plunging him into a world of rules he didn’t know existed. A world where the strong murdered the weak. A world where he would have to find out which category he was in.

Jack’s footsteps echoed down an empty, antiseptic-smelling hallway as he walked away from the nursing station. Ben and Liz would want answers. He could tell them why. No doubt a drug deal. Whoever did it likely heard a noise and thought it was a ripoff, or maybe the cops.

Jack vowed that one day he would be able to tell Ben and Liz who did it.

But there was something he was afraid to tell them. If it was a dope deal, more than one person was involved. Defense lawyers would insinuate that the other lawyer’s client did it, making any conviction tenuous. They would argue the murders weren’t preplanned so any conviction would probably be the result of a plea bargain with the condition of an early release.

He wouldn’t tell Ben and Liz that today. Let them go through their disbelief and shock. For them, anger would come later.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as he stepped into the room. Promise not to cry. They will need me. Must stay strong.

Ben’s and Liz’s eyes were windows to their terror. Jack saw their pain. Pain that gripped their throats and made talking or breathing difficult. Pain that no words could cure.

Jack broke his promise to stay strong.

It was a day that would be locked forever in their souls.

Damien squinted at one of the closed-circuit television monitors and saw Wizard looking up at the camera from his car.

Damien’s voice was curt and to the point. “I’m out back, at the pool.” He released the electronic gate, then walked outside to turn the heat down on his barbecue.

He looked at Vicki’s bikini-clad body as she tossed a beach ball back to their three children in the pool. Buck was twelve years old and his two sisters, Sarah and Kate, were ten and seven. She still had a fantastic figure. So what’s wrong with me?

Vicki returned his gaze and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

“Company?” she asked.

“Business. Won’t take long,” he answered, gently pushing her away.

“What’s the matter, Papa Bear?”

“You know what the matter is.”

“You’re still brooding about last night? Don’t worry. It really doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers me! How could it not bother you? I’m fifty-two, but you, you’re only thirty-four. You’re in your prime.”

“Hey, you’re still in your prime too. Bet you were just tired. Next time take a Viagra.”

Damien sighed, then said, “I did. It didn’t work.”

Wizard drove up the circular driveway to Damien’s estate and parked in front of the four-car garage. Communication antennas and satellite dishes bristled from the roof of the mansion.

One garage door was open, and Wizard caught a glimpse of a new red Jaguar parked inside. The Satans Wrath’s emblem of a skull with horns grinned from the gas tank of a Harley Davidson motorcycle next to the Jag.

Wizard smirked to himself as he opened the gate to the back of the mansion. Damien didn’t like being bothered at home. What he had to tell him would piss him off even more.

The cobblestone path led to the sound of children’s laughter. He spotted Vicki and felt the blood go to his loins. Yes, Damien has it all. For a moment he allowed himself to fantasize that Damien was dead. Vicki was lonely and horny. She wanted him to…

The barbecue lid closed with a bang. Damien glared at him and abruptly flicked off one burner. He was wearing only trunks. His arms and legs were exceptionally hairy, and his physique caused Wizard to think that he looked like a paunchy old bear. His short hair had noticeably thinned. Does he think he can hold on as national pres? He’s becoming old and weak. The election is only a couple of months away.

They walked along a manicured garden path while Wizard gave his version of what had happened that afternoon.

Dark lines formed in the furrows on Damien’s forehead and shadows appeared under his eyes. His response was venomous. “You whacked two kids!” Spittle from his mouth landed on Wizard’s face.

“Well, actually, Rolly whacked the boy. The Suit told us to do it and —”

“Since when does the fucking Suit give us orders? You were in charge!”

“I was in charge, but —”

“Fucking millions to be made and you pull this stunt!”

“Damien, you weren’t there. We had no choice. They were mouthy little brats. Knew what was goin’ on and threatened to tell the cops. We had to do ’em. Especially seein’ as they saw The Suit. Besides, nobody knows about it or can connect it with us.”

“Why the fuck did you have The Suit with you way out there?”

“He was already up the Valley at a meeting all morning. Rolly was looking for spots for grow operations. It just worked out that way.”

“Next time, he takes his own wheels to the motel! You do the delivery after he’s there.”

Wizard nodded that he understood.

“Where is he now?”

“Gettin’ his treat at a motel. Rolly will clean that up after. I thought I should come and let you know right away.”

“Getting his fucking treat? Killing two kids didn’t bother him?”

“Actually, I think he liked it.”

“Nobody is to know about this!”

“Rolly earned his Dirty Dog. I sanctioned it.”

Damien thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, he gets it, but not a fuckin’ hint to anyone about how he got it!”

Damien monitored Wizard on camera as he left. His instinct told him that Wizard hadn’t been totally honest. He had to trust his instinct. It got him to where he was. People who lie to me are my enemy.

“You little shit!” Buck’s voice drifted in through the open patio door.

“Buck! Don’t speak that way to your sister!”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Don’t ‘sorry’ me. Apologize to her.”

“Danny!” said Susan, flicking the brim of his stetson with her finger.

Danny remained at attention but saw Susan as she held Tiffany, bundled up in a cotton blanket, in her other arm.

“What are you doing here?” asked Danny, as his eyes darted toward the arriving limousines.

Susan ignored the question and thrust Tiffany into his arms. She awakened and started to bawl loudly.

“I can’t —”

“Be careful, she’s still colicky.” Susan handed Danny a baby bottle and walked away as the prime minister’s limousine rolled to a stop.

The media came alive. The PM stepped out of the limo and smiled broadly at the zeal and laughter of the media, then saw that the cameras were pointed at a policeman who was saluting him with one hand, while holding a baby in his other arm.

The PM knew a photo opportunity when he saw one. Kissing babies was a classic. He gently took the infant from the policeman’s grasp. The baby immediately quit crying. He smiled with delight and lifted the infant above his head. Picture perfect! The noise from the media drowned out a concerned comment that the policeman made. He brought the baby closer to his face and pursed his lips. It was then that Tiffany chose to vomit.

chapter four

It was the first day after the September Labour Day weekend and Danny O’Reilly’s first day as a policeman in Vancouver. He was dressed in a suit and tie. The last-minute decision to have him transferred to Intelligence instead of GIS puzzled him. The reason would soon be clear.

After a forty-minute wait, he was summoned inside the office of Superintendent Wigmore, who was in command of all the Intelligence units in British Columbia.

Danny stood at attention for two minutes while Wigmore sat behind his desk in an overstuffed leather chair, flipping through Danny’s file. He wore a tailor-made suit that gave the impression that his shoulders could have belonged to someone who played pro football. His black hair was closely cropped and his moustache was trimmed top and bottom.

Wigmore eventually looked up and said, “Sit down.”

Danny sat in a wooden chair across from the desk.

“It’s too bad,” said Wigmore, shaking his head. “Up until this incident with the PM, you had a good career. A few years in uniform, followed by four years on Drug Section, two years on GIS, and lastly, five months on PR duties. I understand you were transferred from Winnipeg GIS to PR because you blew the whistle. Is that right?”

Danny sighed. “Yes, sir. Two of my colleagues embellished evidence to try and convict a bank robber. They said he spent more time casing a bank than he really did. I told, and Internal interviewed them. They admitted that they may have exaggerated, and the trial was dismissed. It felt pretty uncomfortable working in the Section after that.”

“Your actions were admirable. I would expect nothing less from anyone who works for me. But now…” Wigmore made a clucking noise with his tongue before continuing, “After this stunt with the PM, your career is in the toilet. In case you didn’t know it, Internal Affairs is contemplating having you charged with neglect of duty.”

Danny felt his stomach knot. “I didn’t know that, sir.”

“Fortunately for you, I have a good relationship with Internal.” Wigmore clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward, staring intently at Danny’s face. “You’re going to be working with Jack Taggart. Have you ever heard of him?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. What I am about to tell you will not leave this room, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s quite simple. I don’t trust Taggart, and you are going to provide me with every detail of what he is doing.”

“Sir?”

“Everyone Taggart works on, criminal organizations that have survived for years, seems bent on self-destruction once he starts to investigate. Ever hear of Project Stop-Watch?”

“The French gang that robs banks across the country? They’re notorious!”

“They were.”

“They keep crooks outside disguised as shoppers to shoot any officer in the back who might arrive early. A young officer was shot in the neck in Montreal. I think she lived but was paralyzed from the neck. The mastermind was Levasseur. He never entered the banks himself but would pick up his men a few blocks from the heist where they switched cars. It was like he was made of Teflon. Nothing ever stuck to him in court. What does this have to do with Jack Taggart?”

“Two months ago, Taggart somehow got lucky and turned an informant in the gang. Last month Levasseur was murdered.”

“I heard that most of the gang was arrested.”

“One day Levasseur’s men did a job and drove to ditch their car. Levasseur wasn’t there. Vancouver City Police were waiting instead. Taggart tipped them off moments before. Word is, when the gang caught up with Levasseur back in Montreal, he said that some guy with a beard car-jacked him at gunpoint as the heist was going down. He said he was let go afterwards.”

“Obviously a lie. So he set up his own guys?”

“That’s what they thought. His mutilated body was recovered later.”

“So Levasseur was Taggart’s informant?”

“No. Taggart’s informant was some low-level hood. Levasseur wasn’t anyone’s informant. What I do know is that Taggart had a beard then but shaved it off the day after.”

The suggestion made Danny catch his breath. “It might be a coincidence,” he offered.

“Coincidence, my ass! He might fool others, but he doesn’t fool me! Up until now, I’ve never been able to prove anything. This time will be different. A perfect opportunity has arisen.”

“Sir?”

“Something unexpected that I can use to my advantage. The only family Taggart had was his sister, her husband, and their two kids who lived on some farm up the Valley. Recently the two kids were murdered. Taggart’s at the funeral right now.”

“That was his niece and nephew? It’s in the news…”

“This is the time to get hard evidence on this hotshot. Someone messed with the only family he had. He won’t be thinking all that clear. Gain his confidence, if you can, but be careful. Don’t get sucked into his world. I want you to stick to him like shit to a sheep’s ass. If he so much as jaywalks, I want it documented. You see anything, you sense anything, report it to me.”

“Shouldn’t Internal Affairs be handling this?”

“They looked into Taggart and got zip. I need someone close to him. Someone he trusts.”

“Sir, I don’t relish having —”

“You don’t relish it?” said Wigmore, pounding his fist on the desk. His chair bashed against the wall as he stood and jabbed his finger into Danny’s chest and said, “I bet you relish having a job to support your wife and baby girl, don’t you, O’Reilly?”

Danny cringed back in his chair and said, “Yes, sir.”

Wigmore slowly sat down and said, “Good.” His voice softened and he said, “As policemen, we all have to do things we don’t like sometimes. It’s part of the job. Just make sure you do your job and I’ll see to it that you’re looked after.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the future, don’t go through my receptionist. I don’t want any leaks on this matter or anyone to suspect you’re talking to me. You’re to report to me at home,” he said, handing Danny a slip of paper with his telephone number. “I expect a report, say, every Monday night around eight. Call me more often if you think you should. If we need to meet in person, there’s a place near my apartment called the Oceanside Lounge. The address is in the phone book.”

Wigmore glanced at his door. Danny caught the cue and started to leave.

“Oh, O’Reilly! One more thing.” Wigmore waited until Danny turned to face him. “Welcome to Vancouver.” Wigmore gave him what he thought was a reassuring smile.

Wigmore’s smile became genuine after Danny left. Child pornography. It’s time for Taggart to go. He’s too dangerous. A loose cannon.

Jack stared down at the two small caskets holding Maggie and Ben Junior. Mourners dropped handfuls of earth onto the caskets. He took two envelopes from his suit jacket.

Inside a nearby van, CC watched with binoculars. “What’s Taggart up to?”

Her partner, Charlie Wells, grabbed his own binoculars. “He’s taking something out of an envelope … looks like paper fish. He’s dropping one in each grave.”

Jack dropped the cutout of a paper shark. It fell quickly to the earth in Ben Junior’s grave. The cutout of a sunfish that he dropped on Maggie’s casket made a slight thud. The bullet folded in the fish bounced off the side of the coffin.

chapter five

Jack booked the rest of the week off, but the day after the funeral he called CC.

“Anything?”

“Jack, if we make an arrest, I’ll give you a call. Until then, let me do my job.”

“Any leads?”

CC sighed. “Not much. But who knows. It’s too soon yet.”

“What about the powder on the counter?”

“You were right on that. It analyzed as methamphetamine.”

“That’s good! Every chemist who makes meth leaves what amounts to their own chemical signature in it. The lab can cross-match different samples and you might get a match to identify where it originated from.”

“Damn it, Jack. Butt out! Lucy at the lab just explained all that to me.”

“So you’ve put word out to turn in meth samples so the lab can cross-match with —”

“I was going to do that, but instead I’m talking to you! Get the picture?”

Jack allowed himself a glimmer of hope as he hung up. He had his own plan. He called the toxicology department in the crime lab. Lucy was one of the good guys. She would help.

Luigi Grazia was in charge of the Intelligence Section that Danny was assigned to. He was fifty-four years old, and with his greased-back hair, swarthy complexion, and pinstriped suit, he could have passed for a gangster in a B movie. Before he became a desk jockey, he’d had a reputation for solving difficult problems. Some said he was lucky. The fact was, he was cunning.

“Welcome to the section,” said Grazia in a gruff voice. “Everyone calls me Louie.”

Danny was conscious of Louie’s penetrating eyes as they shook hands.

Louie told him he would be sharing an office with Jack Taggart, who would be his immediate supervisor. Danny was glad Jack was off for a week. He wasn’t looking forward to shaking hands with his new partner. He discovered, however, that waiting was worse.

Danny reviewed the reports that Jack had recently submitted on an international child pornography ring. When he finished those, he spent the rest of the week reading reports on past investigations about organizations involved in extortion, stolen-auto rings, prostitution, contract murders, drug trafficking, armored car holdups, and more. Louie told him to think of it as a history lesson.

The weekend would have been a good chance for Danny to unpack the many moving boxes that were still piled in his living room, but he felt listless and tired.

“Monday tomorrow,” Susan commented over their morning coffee.

Danny’s blank expression told her that he wasn’t listening.

“What’s wrong, honey? You acted thrilled when you first told me you were being transferred to Intelligence. But ever since you started you’ve been really quiet. You act like the cat that swallowed the mouse. What gives?”

“I’m just tired. I’ve done a lot of reading this week.”

“Tired? I can’t remember the last time you worked a week of straight day shifts. I think your new job seems great!”

“Maybe I’m not used to it.” He forced a smile.

“Maybe things will be different tomorrow when you meet your new partner.”

Danny chose to bite a piece of toast.

“Hope he’s someone you like. It’s too bad about his niece and nephew.”

Danny took another bite.

“You said he was single; maybe you should invite him over for dinner sometime.”

Danny was grateful that at that moment Tiffany started to cry from her crib. He left to pick her up.

It was noon when Jack woke up. He was still groggy when he answered his telephone.

“Hi, handsome.”

Jack was instantly awake. He recognized Lucy’s voice. He held his breath.

“You sound like you were sleeping,” Lucy said. “I worked all weekend.”

“Not as late as I did. Come on, Lucy! You wouldn’t call me at home unless you had something.”

“I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“One of the samples I brought in matched?”

“No. None of those three matched. You know, I only had about one-tenth of a gram to work with from the murder scene. But it’s close enough that I’ll call these a match. I sent a request to all the labs across the country. We got lucky. Four matches. Three out of Quebec and one from Vancouver.”

“All made by the same cook?” asked Jack.

“The same chemist brewed all four, or, with what was recovered at the murder scene, I should say all five.”

Jack wondered if his heartbeat could be heard over the phone. “Were any of the seizures high-level busts?”

“Two of the Quebec seizures were at the pound level. Both apparently seized from dealers who are known associates of Satans Wrath.”

“Satans Wrath! What about the Vancouver seizure?”

“That’s the bad news. It was less than a gram. Turned in by a Vancouver beat cop. I talked to the guy. It was night and he took a stroll with his partner down some alley on East Hastings. A woman panicked when she saw them coming and chucked it. Probably a hooker. They never did catch her. The only reason he sent it in was because Homicide put out a bulletin saying they were interested.”

“What night did this happen?”

“Same date as the murders.”

“Told Homicide yet?”

“Spoke with CC. She said there’s not much you can do with it under the circumstances. Guess she’s right, but I still thought I should tell you.”

Less than an hour later, Jack burst into Louie’s office.

“I’m going to do an intelligence probe on Satans Wrath, starting tonight.”

“They’re involved in your porn file?”

“No. I’m putting that on the shelf for a moment. This is more important.”

Louie studied Jack’s face, then said, “This is connected with the murders, isn’t it?”

“It could turn out that way if —”

“Come on, Jack. I know this means a lot to you, but give Homicide a chance. We work on organized crime. The brass won’t put up with —”

“Satans Wrath is the number one organized crime group in this country.”

“I know, but what does that have to do with the murders?”

“Our lab cross-matched speed found at the murder scene with speed seized in Quebec connected to Satans Wrath. Now they matched a gram of speed found in an alley off East Hastings as coming from the same chemist!”

“East Hastings? Even Satans Wrath wouldn’t hang out in that scuzzball part of town. Does Homicide know?”

“They’re who the lab did it for.”

“Jack, I understand that this is personal for you, but it’s still up to Homicide.”

“Come on, Louie! Identical speed connected to Satans Wrath in Quebec is turning up here! There are more members of that gang in this city than there are in any other province. And they’re big enough and cautious enough to find an abandoned farmhouse to conduct business.”

“They’re also one of the most dangerous! Damn it, Jack! This isn’t the way we’re supposed to do things! What am I going to have to do to educate you?”

“This isn’t coincidence! If they’re not involved with killing Liz’s kids you can bet they’ll know who did do it!”

“You’re not listening! This is a Homicide investigation. It’s up to them to —”

“GIS wouldn’t make any progress in that part of the city! They’d stand out like nuns in a brothel. Homicide told the lab that it’s not enough of a lead to do anything about it. They’re a reactive section, not proactive.”

“What makes you think you would succeed? Every operation mounted against them has soured. Years of wasted surveillance, dead informants, wiretaps that turned up nothing.”

“I’ve had a good teacher.”

Grazia sat back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Some lowly speed dealer from East Hastings wouldn’t travel all the way out the Valley to do a deal.”

“I know, but someone higher up the ladder might.”

“But East Hastings?”

“I’ve got to start somewhere. I’ll come up with bigger connections sooner or later.”

Louie paused, then said, “Okay. Check it out. But be careful! The brass wouldn’t approve of you sticking your nose into the murder investigation. Wigmore is acting a little kinky these days. He would never authorize funding for us to do street-level drug buys. For now, keep it strictly to surveillance and see what you learn. Forget trying to claim any expenses.”

“I know. I haven’t claimed any expenses yet.”

Louie gave him a hard look. “I didn’t really think you took last week off. You’ve already been buying dope, haven’t you?”

Jack shrugged and said, “I wasted my time – and money. Three scores and no matches.”

“Jesus, Jack! I don’t want you taking risks like that! Policy says you need authorization and a proper cover team if you plan on buying dope. If Wigmore found out, you’d be toast.”

“Wigmore won’t find out.”

“He didn’t get to where he is by being stupid. I’ve got some news for you. Your new partner has arrived. He’s been here all week. Seems anxious to meet you.”

“Who?”

“His name is Danny O’Reilly. Came from back east. Was in Public Relations but —”

Jack groaned. “Just what I need, my own PR person. I bet he’s a pansy.”

“He has Drug experience and GIS. I’m told that PR was just temporary while he was waiting to sell his house and transfer out. It was his baby who puked on the prime minister.”

“That guy? What a hoot! The way I feel about politicians, I’d rather work with his baby.”

“He’s a few years younger than you. Acted a little nervous, but after what he went through with the PM, who wouldn’t be? Take him with you on surveillance. Nothing else until we get grounds to ask for authorization.”

“You got it.”

“Better come up with a project name.”

“How about Project 13?”

“Perfect. One more thing. I have no idea what your new partner is like, so be careful. I mean it when I say I don’t want you taking risks. Especially with Satans Wrath. If something doesn’t feel right, phone me and I’ll back you up. Day or night.”

“Thanks, Louie.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Later that afternoon, Danny found a private moment to call Susan.

“What’s your new partner like?” she asked. “Or can’t you talk now?”

“I can talk. He looks like a hood, but actually seems quite nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

Danny paused, then said, “Sorry, I don’t have much time to talk. I wanted to let you know that I won’t be home for dinner. Sounds like I might be working late.”

“You’ve already worked all day! I thought we were going to unpack tonight. Speaking of which, the movers found the headboard and frame for our bed. It arrived today.”

“Sorry, honey, I have to work.”

“Is he making you work?”

“Jack? No. He told me to go home and work with him tomorrow night, but…”

“But what?”

“I need to stick close to him.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. I’ll dig into those boxes tomorrow.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll put the bed frame and headboard together myself.”

“Who needs a headboard? It’ll just bang on the wall and wake up Tiffany.”

Susan giggled. “You’re awful. Love ya.”

It was getting dark as Danny drove the two-door compact sports car, following Jack’s directions. He stopped for an early amber light and heard a slight grunt of disapproval.

“I heard about your niece and nephew. Just wanted to say I’m sorry. Susan and I have a baby girl. It would be hard to imagine anything more terrible.”

“Thanks,” Jack replied.

“I hope Homicide solves it soon. I wonder if they have any leads?”

“They don’t think they do.”

Neither spoke for several minutes. Danny then flipped on the windshield wipers and asked, “Where we going?”

“East Hastings.”

“Being as we’re partners, maybe you could tell me why?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny could see Jack sizing him up. He seemed to be weighing his response carefully.

“We’re starting what’s called an intelligence probe. Project 13. It’s —”

“About speed,” said Danny.

Jack looked surprised, so Danny continued. “The thirteenth letter of the alphabet. Letter M. Stands for methamphetamine. Bikers sometimes tattoo the number on —”

“So you know a little bit about drugs and bikers.”

“A little. Spent four years on Winnipeg Drugs. Also saw you at the office going through pictures of bikers.”

“Satans Wrath. Ever work on them back east?”

“Not really.”

“They have at least eighty-five members out here on the West Coast. In our area they’ve got four chapters with between eighteen to twenty-five guys in each chapter. Every chapter in the country has a local president and they all report to the national president. He’s a guy by the name of Damien who also lives here. They’ve also got about a dozen strikers.”

“Strikers?”

“Probationary members who do a lot of the dirty work for the club and take the risks.”

“Sounds like a big group to be taking on.”

“It’s worse than that. The rule of thumb is that for every regular member of the club, there are about ten hard-core criminals who work for them. Overall, in our area alone, we’re dealing with an army of about nine hundred professional criminals.”

Danny let out a low whistle, then said, “So what are we up to?”

“I think someone in Satans Wrath is either directly or indirectly supplying speed to the area we’re going to. I’m going to find out who. Are you a trained operator?”

“UC? No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Why not?” Danny tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“You look too straight for undercover.” Jack paused for a moment, then looked at Danny and said, “Actually, that’s not altogether true. There is a certain aura about you. You remind me a little of a used car salesman who’s trying to sell me a lemon.”

Danny chose not to respond. He stared out at the part of the city they had entered. On the steps of a men’s hostel, a small knot of men huddled in the doorway. Farther down the block was a small park. A syringe stuck out of the trunk of a dogwood tree.

He drove past several pawnshops. Heavy steel reinforcement bars guarded the windows and doors. One building had been bulldozed, leaving a cesspool of rubble and garbage.

“Turn left and drive slow down the next alley.”

Danny did as directed. Partway down the alley, he noticed that Jack paid particular attention to a grey steel door behind one building. A light above the door had been smashed out, but the words Black Water Hotel could still be seen in black on the door.

Moments later, Danny parked on the second level of a parking garage that overlooked the front of the hotel. The hotel was in dire need of paint. A sign in red neon lights hung from the front of the building. The letter T was burned out so it appeared from a distance as “HO EL.”

“Pop the trunk.”

Danny watched as Jack took off an ankle holster holding his Smith & Wesson semi-automatic 9-mm calibre pistol and, along with his badge, stashed them both in the trunk. He handed Danny a pair of binoculars.

“Why are you stashing your piece?”