Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 47 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

chapter nine

Bien’s brain didn’t want to accept the message that he got from the smuggler in Hanoi. His worst fears were realized. The smuggler’s words whirled around in his head like a voice that he couldn’t stop.

Hang died in a car accident when she was crossing the street. Most unfortunate. She is an illegal. They can’t get her body. Too many people would be arrested. It would even jeopardize the others when they arrive.

Bien had gasped as he heard the words. The smuggler had continued to speak. Traffic in America is very fast. You have caused the American family much pain. You should have taught Hang to be more careful when crossing the street. You are lucky that they are still willing to accept Linh ....

Now, Bien sat on the floor with his mother. They had plastic chairs inside their room, but Bien’s mother always preferred to sit Vietnamese-style on the floor with her legs tucked under.

Bien held the black and white photocopy of Hang and Linh standing in front of The One Pillar Pagoda. Minutes later, he put it down on the floor in front of him, afraid that his tears would damage the picture.

Bien knew that his mother had barely survived the war. She had experienced more pain and death in her life than any human should have to endure. He had believed she was incapable of crying anymore, her well of tears run dry. But now, her eyes were wet and she rocked back and forth, her arms folded across her chest and her hands resting on her shoulders.

Bien thought about Linh. He wanted to be the one to tell her, but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. She would be devastated. Mister and Missus Pops ... they too must feel the grief ... and in three weeks, when Linh arrived, they would have the unpleasant task of telling her that her sister is dead.

At seven-thirty in the morning Jack and Laura were on their way to work, unaware that at the same moment, Dúc was picking up the two Russians in front of their apartment building.

The three men went to a restaurant to discuss business over breakfast.

“We have been checking,” said Moustache Pete. “There are many places a ship could come in undetected.”

“But it was only a fishing boat going out to sea,” said Dúc. “My man has his own fishing boat there and his house for the passengers. It is much easier.”

“And if the men on the fishing boat that saw the ship unloading have talked, what then? Next time the police could be waiting.”

“It is a small town. The fishermen all know each other. My man says he would have heard something if that were true. Next time, if the ship were to come in two hours earlier, there would be nobody around to see.”

Moustache Pete and the Fat Man looked at each other and nodded in agreement. “Okay, we do it the same way next time, but if the load is lost, it is you that must pay.”

“I understand. It will not be lost.”

“The money?” said the Fat Man, gesturing to an attaché case that Dúc carried.

Dúc nodded and passed it over.

“All there?” asked the Fat Man.

“Yes.... No!” replied Dúc.

“What do you mean?” asked Moustache Pete. “Is it, or isn’t it?”

“All there except for the young girl. I forgot to pick that up.”

“Ah, our insurance policy,” said Moustache Pete with a smile as he looked at the Fat Man.

“Insurance policy?” asked Dúc.

“Just a joke between the two of us,” replied Moustache Pete.

“The money is arranged,” said Dúc. “He paid all of the deposit the first time, but I gave it back when only one girl came. Please, one moment, I know he works Tuesday to Saturday, but he may not have left for work yet.”

Dúc used his cellphone and made a quick call. When he hung up he said, “Yes, he is home and will wait, but I must go now.”

“That is not a problem,” said Moustache Pete. “We will go with you and wait in the car. You can drive us back to our apartment later. Maybe by then the bank will be open and we can stop there first.”

Jack stared at Quaile as he made a pretext of looking at them as he sat behind his desk.

“Yes. You look much more appropriate,” said Quaile, avoiding Jack’s stare. “That is how you should be attired on all occasions. Now, I’m going to call Inspector Penn and tell him that the both of you are now available to ....” Quaile paused to answer his telephone.

“May I speak with the NCO in charge, please?” asked a feminine voice.

“You are. This is Staff Sergeant Quaile.”

“Stand by, one moment please. I’m going to connect you with Deputy Commissioner Simonson.”

“Deputy Commissioner Simonson!” said Quaile aloud.

It was a name Quaile knew well. Deputy Commissioner Simonson worked in Ottawa and was only one rung below the actual Commissioner himself. Someone so far up the chain of command that for him to call someone in Quaile’s position was virtually unheard of.

Quaile glanced at the call display and recognized the Ottawa prefix and put his hand over the receiver and looked at Jack and Laura and whispered, “Get out.”

“Sorry,” said Jack. “I couldn’t hear that.”

“I have an important call. Get out!”

Jack and Laura obediently returned to their own office.

Back in their own office, Laura looked at Jack and said, “I was afraid to even look at you in there in case I couldn’t keep a straight face. Deputy Commissioner Simonson?”

Jack smiled and said, “Quaile would never have the nerve to call him, let alone question what he wants.”

“Good one. Who are you using?”

“Remember Bob from Edmonton?”

“Thought he was retired now? Working for the Insurance Corporation of B.C.”

“He is, but still has all the contacts. Including someone to provide him with a call forwarding number out of Ottawa.”

“If this doesn’t work, Quaile will have you transferred.”

“I have the feeling that I’ve nothing to lose.”

Quaile drummed his fingers on the desk for thirty seconds, but sat upright when a gruff voice asked, “Staff Sergeant Quaalude?”

“Ah, it’s pronounced, Quaile, sir.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Things are hectic here this morning. What’s the weather like out there in Vancouver?”

“Windy and raining right now, sir. Kind of miserable.”

“That’s good. Listen, I’m calling about the reports you submitted. The Commissioner is personally interested in this.”

“The Commissioner! What reports sir?”

“On those two Russians your section is working on. I don’t have their names. You must know who I mean?”

“I do sir.”

“Their names surfaced in an international investigation we’re involved with here. It’s a high priority case involving very bad apples. We’ve discovered that there is corruption at the highest level. Indications are that it is even amongst our own ranks.”

“Corruption amongst our own ranks, sir?”

“Yes, Quaalude, I just said that. Now, whatever you get on these guys, I don’t want you to dilly-dally with the reports. Send them in pronto! I don’t know how you got on to them, but I can tell you, the Commissioner is pleased. There are other countries involved and it’s about time we had something to make us look good.”

“Yes, sir! My instincts told me these guys were bad from the get-go. Should I have my investigators contact someone?”

“No. Don’t talk about this to anyone or have anyone make any calls at this time. Weren’t you listening when I said there is a serious indication of corruption?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Simply proceed like normal. We will contact you if the need arises. Just keep those reports coming.”

“Would you like me to direct the reports to your personal attention?”

“Jesus ... of course not, Quaalude! I have better things to do than distribute reports around the building. My God, what do you think I do here? Send them through ordinary channels as always. You got that?”

“Yes, sir!”

Moments later, Jack and Laura were summoned back to Quaile’s office.

“Listen, I’ve had overnight to rethink what you said yesterday and have reconsidered this whole Russian matter. I’m going to allow you to continue working on them, but I expect results—don’t let me down!”

“Staff ... are you sure?” asked Jack, ignoring the roll of Laura’s eyes. “What about Commercial Crime?”

“That can wait for now. You told me these Russians are worth taking a look at. You better not fail. This is your one and only chance to prove it.”

“Will do,” said Jack as he and Laura turned to leave.

“Not so fast,” said Quaile.

“Staff?” asked Jack.

“I see our overtime budget is healthy at the moment, so don’t hesitate to work a few extra hours if necessary.”

Upon returning to their office, Laura looked at Jack and said, “Bob was a good operator.”

“One of the best. He still is.”

Dúc parked his car down the street from Pops’s house and got out while Moustache Pete and the Fat Man waited. They watched as Dúc hustled down the street before disappearing up the inclination of a driveway that led around to the back of the house.

“It is good,” said the Fat Man. “This degenerate. He pays us for our insurance.”

“Soon the other child will be here,” said Moustache Pete. “It will be double indemnity.”

Both men chortled.

Jack and Laura were parked near the entrance to the Russians’ apartment building and Laura used the steering wheel to steady the binoculars as she looked at a car that just arrived. “Oh, man,” she said, passing the binoculars to Jack.

Jack adjusted the binoculars and yelled, “Damn it! That’s Dúc dropping them off! Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

“Only ten in the morning,” commented Laura. “Wonder what they were up to? Maybe just meeting for breakfast.”

“Maybe. Would have been nice to know for sure instead of seeing if my tie matched my shirt. Dúc isn’t usually an early riser. Something was up.”

“Stay with the Russians or go with Dúc?” asked Laura.

“Let’s sit on the Russians. They’re our main targets.”

It was late in the afternoon when Quaile called Jack and told him to return to the office.

Jack returned and walked into Quaile’s office alone.

“Close the door,” said Quaile, “and have a seat.”

Jack did as instructed.

“What have you learned about the Russians today?”

“This morning they were dropped off at about ten by Dúc. Laura and I sat on them all day but they haven’t moved.”

“You just sat out there wasting an entire shift?”

“These guys haven’t been supplying me with their itinerary. They’re not a couple of boys who work in offices. It takes time.”

“You’ve had plenty of time. I would have expected a competent investigator to have come up with something more substantial by now.”

“Is this what you called us in for? Perhaps if we were still out there, we would have something more substantial,” said Jack, crossly.

“Your annual assessment couldn’t wait any longer,” replied Quaile, “otherwise it would be overdue. I am a firm believer in punctuality.” He gestured to the forms in front of him and said, “A few questions. Do you speak French?”

“No,” sighed Jack, while checking his watch. “I have passable Spanish and am learning some Russian and Vietnamese, however.”

“That’s ridiculous!” said Quaile, looking dumbstruck. “Canada is bilingual ... French and English. Stop learning those and take French.”

“I don’t believe the Russians I’m working on know French,” replied Jack innocently.

Quaile glared at Jack and said, “How far did you ever expect to get in the RCMP?”

“To the rank of corporal,” Jack replied bitterly.

“I didn’t ask you what your rank is now! I asked you how far you ever expected to get!”

“I heard you. As I said, to the rank of corporal.”

Quaile continued to glare at Jack for several seconds without speaking, before saying, “I don’t believe we have anything further to say to each other.”

“Neither do I,” replied Jack, before returning to his office.

Hang lay curled on her mattress, her tongue exploring the holes in her gums from her missing front teeth. She knew that soon her father would be expecting her to call. When I don’t, questions will be asked. People will look for me ...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar creak of the passage door. She did not feel the fear she once did. She was still another day away from a red circle on the calendar ... and knew Pops would wait until then to do something to her.

Today she expected Pops to smile and mark another X on the calendar, which he did, but he also had a message.

“Your dad thinks you are dead. Killed in a car accident.”

Hang’s emotions played havoc with her brain. Father will be crying because of me! Then she came to a horrible conclusion—the real reason Pops was smiling. Nobody will miss me! Nobody will come looking!

“That’s right,” said Pops. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. Nobody will ever look for you now.”

Hang turned her face into the sponge mattress and wept.

“Do not cry,” said Pops. “Soon you will have your sister to love. And I do mean love!” Pops snickered as he left.

Eventually Hang stopped crying and found herself staring at the calendar. She looked past the red circles to something more horrific. Linh’s arrival! It will be soon ... and it is up to me to do ... whatever ... to save her.

She stared around the room. She knew it well, right down to the number of brass screws in the ceiling. Now, her attention focused on the toilet tank ... and a plan began to formulate.

chapter ten

It was eleven o’clock at night when Jack and Laura saw the lights flick off in the penthouse suite. Jack was glad the Russians decided to have an early night. He was tired ... and depressed. He was home an hour later and was glad to see that Natasha was still awake as she lay in bed reading a book. Twenty minutes later, he got in bed beside her as she put the book down.

“You close to catching these Russians?”

“Not that. Quaile did my annual assessment today. It went badly.”

Jack sighed and told Natasha about his differences with Quaile.

“In the morning he wants me to bust my ass and find out what the Russians are all about. In the afternoon he does this to me. The guy doesn’t have a clue about management.”

“You told me before that you didn’t think he would last long. You expected him to be transferred soon.”

“Now I think I’ll be transferred first, if my assessment is any indication.”

“To where?”

Jack shrugged and said bitterly, “I suspect I’ll be going back to harness, but who knows where. I guess the good news is I’d be working regular shifts. More time to spend with you,” he added, forcing a smile.

Natasha gently pulled Jack closer so that their naked bodies could entwine as one, with their heads sharing the same pillow. “As much as I would like to spend more time with you—twenty-four-seven, actually—I know that is not feasible. And going back to uniform? You wouldn’t be happy.”

“I may not exactly get a choice in this matter,” replied Jack.

Natasha lifted the covers and looked at Jack’s body.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for the man I married,” she replied, dropping the sheets. “That guy wouldn’t have given up so easily. That guy always found a way to solve a problem.”

Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Believe me, I’ve been trying. Laura and I have been putting everything we have into catching these two Russians. I thought that if we did, it might give Quaile reason to reflect. Perhaps adjust his thinking. Now, thinking about how he screwed me on my assessment, I’m not sure that would even work.”

“You’re tired, stressed, and depressed.”

“Tell me about it.”

“If you actually took some time off to relax, maybe enjoy life, it would clear your head. Give your brain a chance to re-energize.”

“I know,” sighed Jack. “What you say is right, but it’s a Catch-22. If I take time off, then I might miss something with the Russians ... then I’d really be screwed.”

“It would still be good to give yourself a small break from it.”

“I can’t. Maybe in a couple of weeks ...”

“You have to lower your stress level. It’s not healthy. Mentally or physically.”

“And how the hell do I do that? Quaile’s riding my—”

“Shut up about Quaile!” said Natasha angrily. “Complaining about him won’t help.”

“Then what do you suggest?” snapped Jack in exasperation. “I’m trying damn hard to go by the rules and look what it’s gotten me! If I had screwed up or got caught doing something I shouldn’t, then fine. I deserve it. But this is bullshit. I know life isn’t fair, but it’s eating me up inside.”

The two of them silently stared up at the ceiling.

Eventually Jack rolled over to face Natasha. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That just didn’t come out right. I really love you. I think you’re an amazing person and sometimes wonder how you put up with me ... and what I do. I just have so many things on my mind. Now is not the time to take a holiday. I wouldn’t be able to relax anyway.”

Natasha sighed and said, “Yeah, I know. I sometimes wonder myself how I put up with you. Laura once said that I was a brave woman to be married to you.”

Jack felt relieved that Natasha wasn’t angry. “Laura told you that? That wench! Don’t believe anything she says.”

Natasha smiled and said, “Of course she was joking, but in a way, it made me think.”

“Think of what?”

“Of how much I love you—to put up with all the crap you do put me through.”

Jack reflected on his relationship with Natasha since they had met and admitted, “There has been a lot of stress—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” sighed Natasha. “It’s not entirely your fault. I brought home my own bag of stress.”

“Oh?” said Jack. “Want to talk about it?”

Natasha swallowed and said, “Today I had a patient. A young mom with cancer. She’s pregnant with her third and refuses chemo ... the only thing that might save her at this point.”

“That’s awful.”

“It makes you think. I can put up with just about anything as long as we’re together,” she added, bringing her face close to his.

Jack felt her warm mouth linger on his lips. When she pulled away, he said, “I guess we really should remember to put things in perspective. You look around at our apartment, all the things we have ... but the really important things in life aren’t things.”

“Despite what goes on at work,” said Natasha, “we have each other. Enjoy life. Every precious minute. Speaking of which, I do have an idea that might help you.”

“Right now? You said I needed a break from work.”

“Something to make your work more fun.”

“I’m listening.”

“Would you still like to learn a few more words of Russian? We could start with the parts of the body,” said Natasha, with a grin. “Correct pronunciation and memory could be enhanced through a tactile approach.”

Jack smiled and said, “Now I know what you mean by making my work fun.”

Laura checked her watch. It was 1:45 in the afternoon and for the last five hours she had been sitting in a car with Jack. They were parked where they could observe the front entrance to the Russians’ apartment.

She glanced at Jack. Yesterday he had told her about the meeting he’d had with Quaile over his assessment. She had a sleepless night because of it. I know life isn’t fair ... but why do some people go out of their way to make it unfair?

She cleared her throat and said, “If you end up being transferred because of Quaile, then I’m putting in for a transfer, too.”

Jack looked at her and said, “Thanks ... I appreciate what you’re saying, but in the long run, that just means the bad guys win. You’re a real asset to the section. I’d really hate to see what it would be like if Quaile brought in his own minions.”

Laura sighed and said, “Oh, man ... I hadn’t thought about that. I know you’re right, but I still couldn’t work for a man like that. It’s barely tolerable with you as a buffer. I’d flip out if I had to deal with him directly.”

“I guess you have to do what makes you happy ... but don’t quit just because of me. Besides, maybe a break for me would be okay.”

“Don’t try and placate me,” replied Laura. “I know you better than that. This is your life.”

“Yours, too,” replied Jack. “Which is why I don’t want you to throw it away on my account.”

“I wouldn’t be throwing it away. I’d probably be saving myself from being arrested for homicide.”

Jack chuckled, turned up the radio and said, “Oh, one of my favourites.” He started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel while singing along to Billy Joel’s “You May Be Right.”

“I thought you liked classical?” asked Laura, more to save her ears than find out the answer.

“All depends on the mood I’m in,” replied Jack. “I basically like it all. Classical, country, rock ... anything but heavy metal or opera. One of my favourites is Dr. Hook.”

Laura saw him pause to pick up with the words on the radio and quickly said, “You’re awfully perky today—considering how you felt yesterday after seeing Quaile.”

Jack smiled and leaned back in his seat and said, “I get the point. Sorry. I think one of the most dangerous things I ever did was to try and sing karaoke in a bar one night. You’re right, though, nothing like a few hours of sleep to put life back in perspective.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that you did more than sleep.”

Jack gave Laura a sideways glance and said, “God help Elvis if he ever fooled around on you.”

“He’d only do it once.”

“Hey, that reminds me. Natasha said you told her she was a brave woman to marry me.”

Laura snickered, but didn’t reply.

“I told her you were a wench. Not to believe anything you say.”

“A wench! Is that what you called me?” said Laura, giving Jack a playful punch on the arm.

“Out of the car,” said Jack, seriously.

“I was kidding!”

“No. Our targets. Moustache Pete and the Fat Man.... They’re taking a walk.”

Laura quickly got out of the car and hustled down the street. She caught up to the Russians and kept pace with them from the opposite side of the street. She used a portable radio to keep in touch with Jack, who would reposition the car as they went.

“They just went inside a business,” radioed Laura. “Travel King. Stand by—I’ll do a walk past.” Moments later, Laura radioed again, “They’re just sitting down with a woman. Looks like they’re planning on taking a trip.”

Laura rejoined Jack in the car and they waited. Twenty minutes later, the Russians appeared and walked back toward their apartment.

“Do you think they knew the woman?” asked Jack.

“No, I saw them shaking hands, like an introduction.”

“Good. Let’s chance it and go talk to her.”

Jack and Laura introduced themselves to the travel agent and expressed their interest in the two Russians. Elaine introduced herself and said, “I’m not really supposed to do this ... but they’re flying out of Vancouver a week today. Their destination flight is the city of Liberia located in the northern part of Costa Rica.”

Matches the call on the pay phone, thought Jack. He glanced at Laura and saw her nod.

“From there,” said Elaine, “they’re taking about a forty-five minute taxi ride to the coast. A small town called Playas del Coco—or as us gringos call it, Coco Beach.”

“I know that place,” said Jack. “I passed through there on my honeymoon.”

“You should have booked it through me,” said Elaine, with a smile. “Anyway, I offered to get these two guys a rental car but they weren’t interested. They did ask that I book them each a room at Hotel Coco Verde, which I did. It’s walking distance to the beach and has a pool and a casino.”

“They asked for that specific hotel?” asked Jack.

“Yes. Actually I told them that the place has a reputation for a lot of prostitution. Men go there on conferences and sometimes book a prostitute to be with them for the whole time they’re there. These two didn’t care. They said they were meeting a friend who was going there and had already recommended it.”

“No indication of who their friend was?” asked Jack.

“They didn’t say, but when I was booking their flight, one of them told me that the date was good because it was two days before the guy arrived that they were supposed to meet. That’s all I know. They are there for a week and then are scheduled to return.”

Jack gave Elaine his business card and she promised to call him if there were any changes.

On their way back to their office, Laura said, “Our Russians have to be planning on bringing in cocaine. They’ve been checking the ports, wanting navigational maps—they must have a boat they’re using.”

“I sort of agree,” replied Jack. “Costa Rica is like the skinny end of the funnel for coke coming up from South America. As I recall, someone told me that Coco Beach is the first port of entry for boats coming into the country from the north.”

“Did you and Natasha stay at the Hotel Coco Verde?”

Jack laughed and said, “No. A small place called Villa del Sol. Actually it’s owned by a couple of French-Canadians. Nice people.”

“You said you sort of agree. Not completely?”

“If it was cocaine importation, why didn’t the bikers cut themselves in on the action ... or permanently cut the Russians out? That part still doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe it is cocaine importation, but there has to be something else. Something that scared our friend in Satans Wrath—and he doesn’t scare easily.”

“We’ve got to go down there,” replied Laura. “What chance do you think we’ll have with Quaile authorizing that?”

“Last week I would have said none,” replied Jack, “but after the number Bob did on him, I bet there won’t be a problem,” he added with a wink.

Jack’s meeting with Quaile was brief.

“I’ll okay it for you and Laura to go,” said Quaile, “but for the chunk you’re taking out of our budget, I can tell you right now ... you’d better get results!”

Hang anxiously waited when Pops carried in a couple of Styrofoam containers of hot Chinese food, along with napkins and plastic utensils.

“Red-circle day,” he said, setting the items down out of her reach while he turned on the propane heater. The smell of the food permeated every corner of the room.

Pops used his foot to slide the food over to Hang.

Hang ate the food rapidly while Pops sat on the floor, smiling at her. When she was finished, he stood and marked another X on the calendar.

“Two days to your next red circle,” he said, before shutting heater off and taking the food containers away as he left.

Hang stared at the calendar. This red-circle day was okay. What will I get on the next red-circle day?

For Hang, it was better that she did not know.