Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"
Автор книги: Don Easton
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Текущая страница: 52 (всего у книги 141 страниц)
chapter twenty
Quaile did not wait for Jack and Laura at the Commercial Crime office. He requested—and was granted—an immediate meeting with Isaac.
“Sir, it’s about Taggart,” said Quaile. “He refuses orders and shows a total disregard for others. I just came from a meeting that was to have started an hour ago at Commercial Crime. Taggart was to be there at eight and as far as I know, he still hasn’t arrived. It’s embarrassing. I radioed him and he said he was having car problems. I’m sure he was lying.”
“He’s late for a meeting and you feel you need to speak to me about it?” asked Isaac.
“There’s more to it than that, sir. I took a call from the Vancouver City Police this morning. They were looking for one of their detectives and believed he might be at our office. It turns out that Taggart has been working on a project that I ordered him to drop weeks ago.”
“That investigation where he went to Costa Rica?” asked Isaac.
“Yes, sir.” Quaile leaned back in the chair, shaking his head. “What a fiasco that was. Taggart now says those two Russians may only be smuggling prostitutes into Canada to work in a couple of Vietnamese massage parlours. I told him to either turn it over to Immigration or City Vice. It is certainly not of the quality of file that I expect our office to engage in.”
“Maybe Corporal Taggart is burnt-out,” said Isaac.
“He seems clueless about what he should be doing. On top of that, he is a bad influence on the people under him. Morale in the office has deteriorated considerably. I respectfully suggest that his time has come.”
Isaac nodded thoughtfully and said, “I agree,” and reached for the telephone. He paused and said, “It’s funny. This isn’t how I thought Corporal Taggart would leave the section.”
“Sir?”
Isaac shook his head and said, “With his history, I expected he would either end up in jail or dead.”
Quaile listened patiently as Isaac talked on the phone. When Isaac hung up he turned to Quaile and said, “It’s done. Have Corporal Taggart report to Inspector Schaff in Staffing immediately.”
Jack and Laura arrived at Commercial Crime just as the meeting ended, so they returned to their own office.
“Got a call from Elaine at Travel King,” said Jack, as he listened to his voice mail. He quickly dialled her number and spoke with her.
“Well?” asked Laura when Jack hung up the phone.
“Moustache Pete and the Fat Man just booked a trip to Vietnam,” he said. “They reserved a room at a place called the Hotel Happy Holiday in Hanoi next Wednesday.”
“Only six days from now,” said Laura.
“They fly out of Vancouver at noon the day before. Takes over twenty hours to get there.”
“They’re arranging another boatload,” said Laura, excitedly.
“For sure. Maybe we can get the Vietnamese police to nail them. I’d rather serve two years in a jail in Canada than one month in a Vietnamese prison. This could turn out really great. I’ll make some calls and see who we can liaise with ...”
“Corporal Taggart,” said Quaile, announcing his arrival into their office.
“Staff, sorry about missing the meeting this morning. We just came from there. I’ve got the minutes of the meeting so ...”
“So can it, Taggart! You’re to report to Inspector Schaff in Staffing immediately. After which, you are to return and empty your desk!”
Jack sat in a stunned silence as his brain flashed random thoughts and images like a remote control changing channels at hyperspeed. The Russians ... not too late ... Laura can do it ... Jade ... the others ... someone has to get them out ... I’ve been caught at something ... what?
“Cat got your tongue, Taggart?”
Jack stood and walked toward the exit, feeling like he was still in a trance. He looked back at his desk and the rows of filing cabinets that he had invested much of his life into filling. Laura looks like she is going to cry ... hope she doesn’t quit. Don’t let the bad guys or the assholes win ...
“By the way,” said Quaile, “did you really believe that I fell for that fake call from Ottawa? For your information, I just played along to see what you were really involved in.” Quaile glanced at his watch and said, “You’d better hurry. I bet the longer you keep Inspector Schaff waiting, the farther north you’ll be sent.”
Jack heard Quaile’s voice behind him as he headed down the corridor. “As for you, Secord, consider yourself on notice! You’re only here still because I know Taggart was a bad influence on you, but ...”
Linh felt the car come to a stop and she heard the overhead garage door close. She clasped her hands in anticipation, waiting for the lid to open.
Will the first face I see be Hang? I think so!
The trunk opened and she saw only Mister Dúc and a big man standing beside him. She smiled politely and tried to hide her disappointment.
“Hello, Linh. I’m Pops,” the big man said, while reaching down to help her out of the trunk.
Linh was too excited to accept help and scrambled out on her own.
“Hello, Mister Pops,” she said, extending her hand.
Pops smiled and shook her hand.
“I am happy to meet you,” she said, pleased that she had memorized the phrase correctly. “Where is Hang?” she asked, breathlessly.
“We’ll talk about that in a moment,” replied Pops. “Come inside.”
Linh followed Pops to the door leading into the house, pausing only to smile politely and wave to Mister Dúc as he left.
“We’ll put your stuff in your bedroom,” said Pops. “Then we will sit in the living room and talk.”
Linh was awed by the sight of her bedroom. She picked the stuffed bear up off the bed and on impulse, gave it a hug before resting it back down with its head on the pillow.
“Are you hungry?” asked Pops. “It is almost lunchtime.”
Linh smiled and said, “Hang is in school!”
Pops stared at her a moment before taking her by the hand and leading her to the living room where they sat on the sofa. “I have some terrible news,” he said.
Linh felt the dread in her heart. “Hang?” she whispered.
“Yes. It is about Hang. She died in an accident. She stepped out from behind a truck parked on the street and was hit by a car. I am so very sorry.”
Linh burst into tears and felt Pops’s arm around her shoulders. She turned and clung to his sweater, burying her face into his chest.
“It happened six weeks ago,” said Pops. “We called your dad to tell him, but you had already left to come here. I feel so bad having to tell you the news. My wife wanted to be here when you arrived, but her mother is in hospital and is very sick.”
Linh continued to cry softly for an hour, before a combination of stress and fatigue allowed her to doze off as she snuggled close to Pops.
“What happened?” asked Laura, as soon as Jack returned.
Jack tried to smile and said, “It’s not all that bad. Lower Mainland Traffic Services in Burnaby. I’m supposed to start Monday.”
“Highway Patrol! This is already Thursday—how can Quaile do that?”
“He couldn’t, which means the big guy wants me out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I think I’ll take a couple of days’ leave. I’m lucky. It’s not a physical move so it won’t interfere with Natasha’s work.”
“Jack ... I’m sorry. Oh, man,” she said in frustration. “I meant what I said before. I’m giving Staffing a call right now. There’s no way I can work for someone like this. I’d end up putting on coveralls and calling you in the night to bring a shovel.”
“Laura, no,” said Jack. “Please don’t, at least not yet. We’ve come too far on this thing with the Russians to let it drop now. We’re close.”
“You’re the one who is already in with Giang. What can I do by myself? I need—”
“I’ll still be handy to help out when I’m not writing tickets. I could still do the UC on Giang and introduce you, or maybe someone from VPD. The important thing to me is that we finish what we started. I also plan to get our friend in the massage parlour out of there when things do go down.”
“How do you do that without jeopardizing her family? You heard her. If they think she ran away or came to us ... people will die.”
“I figured out a way, but—”
“Exactly!” said Laura. “You’re good at this stuff. I can’t do it on my own!”
“You won’t be on your own all the time. I told you I’d help. Promise me you’ll stay on and fight this battle.”
Laura was quiet for a moment, staring down at her desk. When she looked up, she said, “Okay, but then I’m out of here as soon as Moustache Pete and the Fat Man are in jail ... or dead.”
Jack chuckled in spite of how he felt. “Maybe I have been a bad influence on you. You know, there was a time, before I met Natasha, when I would have gladly arranged for these two guys to die. But now I feel like my own life is worth something. I don’t want to lose what I have. I’ve been doing my best to do the right thing. You should, too. Promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks. Catch these guys by the book. If you were to screw up, I would always blame myself for having started you down that path.”
Laura sighed and reached across and put her hand on top of Jack’s. “I feel awful about all this, but don’t worry about me. I love my husband and I want to be a mom someday. I’ll leave the shovel in the trunk.”
“Good, it’s settled. I’m going to call Natasha,” he added, reaching for his telephone.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” said Natasha, after Jack relayed the news to her. “You were afraid this was going to happen. I guess you were right.”
“It’s okay,” said Jack. “Really. Sure, I’m not exactly ecstatic about it, but just think ... regular shifts. No informants calling in the middle of the night—or when we’re ... you know. I’ve been doing this for seven years. The change may do us both good. Also won’t have to figure out what to wear each day. Hope you love a guy in uniform.”
“I don’t care what you wear,” said Natasha, “as long as you’re the same man underneath.”
“Ah ... you love me naked. That part won’t change.”
“I meant you. What’s in your heart. Which will change if you’re not happy.”
“You’re in my heart. It’s you that makes me happy.”
Natasha remained silent.
“We’ll talk over dinner,” said Jack. “I’ll cook something special, maybe chicken cordon bleu. I’ll pick up a bottle of wine as well. We’ll look at this as a celebration of a more stress-free lifestyle.”
“Better make it two bottles,” said Natasha. “I’m going to have to be really drunk if you expect me to swallow the bullshit you’re feeding me.”
It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Pops gently awakened Linh.
“It’s a good time for you to call your dad,” he said. “He will be worried and will want to know you arrived in the States. You can talk to him for as long as you want. I understand you have a grandmother too?”
Linh nodded.
“Talk to her as well, if you like. With what has happened, I am going to figure out how to bring them both to America. Wouldn’t it be nice if you were all together?”
Without Hang, that is not possible, decided Linh.
Between crying spells, Linh talked for over an hour.
Bien felt that his heart was already broken, but the sound of Linh’s tears and being unable to hold her made him realize that his heart still had room for much pain. He asked Linh to be strong and to remember that they only had to look to the sky to know that Hang would be watching and waiting to see them some day.
When Linh finally ran out of words, she slowly relinquished the phone to Pops, who hung it up.
Pops smiled knowingly and said, “Come, there is a special hiding place I must show you. It is to be used if the police should ever come before the proper papers are in place.”
chapter twenty-one
At eight o’clock Friday morning, Laura walked into Quaile’s office. She looked at him in disgust and slowly turned around in a complete circle in front of his desk.
“Hi, Laura,” said Quaile, sounding friendly. “You look fine. There’s no need for you to do this anymore. Your attire is completely appropriate now.”
Laura didn’t comment and turned to leave.
“Where is Corporal Taggart this morning?” asked Quaile. “He hasn’t been excused from this.”
“He’s taking the day off,” replied Laura.
“I haven’t signed a leave form for him! Tell him to get in here!”
“I’m sorry, did you think I meant he was on annual leave?” asked Laura innocently. “He called in sick. Would you like him to bring a note from his wife? She’s a doctor.”
“I want his desk cleaned out before the end of the day,” said Quaile. His tone with Laura was no longer friendly.
“Sure, Quaile, I’ll do that,” replied Laura.
“It’s Staff! You will refer to me as Staff—and do so in a respectful tone!”
Laura placed the palms of her hands on his desk and leaned over so that her face was close to Quaile’s. He instinctively pushed himself back in his chair.
“When it comes to human qualities, you are a very small man,” she said. “They should never give power to a small man.”
The blood rushed to Quaile’s face as he tried to think of an appropriate response.
Laura turned and walked to the door. Just before she left she said, “And another thing, Quaile. I don’t respect you enough to call you by anything else ... except asshole!”
Later that afternoon, Laura sat in a car parked close to the Russians’ apartment. She had a shoebox on her lap and carefully looked at the contents. Believing she had control of her emotions, she picked up her cellphone and called Jack.
“I’ve been sitting on the Russians since nine o’clock this morning,” she said. “They haven’t left their apartment all day. I saw lights come on earlier, so I know they’re home.”
“What about Commercial Crime? Quaile will have your ass if he knows you’re still working on the Russians.”
“Yeah ... Quaile. I saw him this morning. I definitely felt vibes that he doesn’t like me. I bet I’m next on the chopping block.”
“Why? What did he say to you?”
“Nothing, really. It was just the look on his face when I left his office this morning. Call it woman’s intuition. I sensed that he doesn’t like me.”
“Laura, you promised,” said Jack
“I know what I promised,” she said evenly. “We’re close to nailing these two. Don’t worry, we’ll get them before he can push me out the door.”
“Just don’t do anything to jeopardize your career,” replied Jack.
“You once told me that you had to be able to look at your own face in the mirror when you shaved. I don’t shave, but I do put on makeup. I have to be able to look at myself as well.”
“Your record is exemplary. Clean. Don’t go and ...”
“Which is why it will take time for Staff Pendejo to kick me out. Speaking of which, he wasn’t going to authorize leave for you this morning, so I told him you had called in sick.”
“Thanks. I spoke with my new boss on Traffic Services and asked to take next week off. He said it wasn’t a problem and I could back-date the paperwork when I arrived. Sounds like a nice guy. His name is Mike Hewett.”
“Anyone would be better than Quaile.”
“Now my week is clear to help you. After what has happened, I thought we should take this weekend off to clear our heads. Then meet with Pasquali on Monday and do the UC on Giang.”
“Good, that’s what I thought, too. Besides, it will be better to let Giang stew about it. We won’t look so anxious.”
“Set it up with Pasquali for around noon. I’ll call you Sunday night.”
“Jack ... there’s another reason I called. I ... Oh, man,” she said, as her voice wavered.
“What is it? ... Laura?”
Jack heard her sigh, and she said, “I cleaned out your desk for you. I’ve got a shoebox here with your stuff. Coffee mug, pictures of Natasha, your niece and nephew, your little buddy Charlie taking his first step ...” She paused as her voice cracked and she swallowed and continued. “You know, stuff like that. I was going to drop it off for you on my way home tonight.”
“Oh ...” Jack paused as the feeling struck home. Seven years of my life bundled into a shoebox.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have done this without asking,” said Laura, sensing his pain. “I just didn’t want the asshole gloating around watching you do it.”
“I was going to come in and do that this weekend. Thanks, though. I really appreciate it. It would have been tough for me.”
“I have to go,” she replied.
Jack heard her crying before she fumbled to shut her phone off.
It was late Friday afternoon when Isaac waved for Connie Crane to come in and take a seat in front of his desk.
“I hope I’m not interfering with your schedule, Corporal,” said Isaac, “but I just called Staff Otto and he said you were in the building and would be the best person to bring me up to date.”
“Yes, sir. Randy called and told me. We still have no idea as to the child’s identity, but our investigation is progressing. Lab results indicate she had close to two hundred times the normal level of dioxin in her blood. This, combined with a birth defect of an extra thumb and other factors, indicates that, in all likelihood, she is of Vietnamese heritage. Not only that, but it would indicate that she is from an area that has been heavily contaminated with Agent Orange. My guess is she was originally from the central part of Vietnam, in the area the Americans referred to as the DMZ during the American–Vietnamese conflict.”
“The demilitarized zone,” said Isaac.
“Yes, sir. That’s it.”
“An extra digit. Surely the Vietnamese must be able to identify her?”
“We’ve checked. As abnormal as that would be here, it is common over there. Many children are still being born with such defects. Others with no limbs. It’s a result of all the defoliant the Americans dropped back in the late 1960s and early ’70s.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Locally, we’re tracking down sexual sadists: people who have a history of lighting pets on fire and the like. But as I’m sure you know, there are easily over a thousand in our area who are on the National Sex Offender Registry and likely that many more that we are not aware of.”
“Learning the identity of this child would be a significant step,” said Isaac.
“Sir, we are trying. I’ve made inquiries with the local Vietnamese community. Some are more than willing to help, but others are either suspicious or afraid of the police.”
“Then step up the pressure on the Vietnamese police. An extra thumb, even if it is common over there—a child is missing. They should be able to narrow the list down. There can’t be that many children who emigrated here from Vietnam who would match this profile. Check with Immigration. I’ll call our embassy in Hanoi if you like, and help get things moving over there.”
“Sir, that has already been done. I suspect the real problem is that the child was likely smuggled into Canada.”
“Smuggled?” Isaac’s mind returned to a conversation he had with Quaile.
“The police over there are being very cooperative,” continued Connie. “But the problem they face is that people are not overly willing to come forward. The Vietnamese government is a communist regime and everyone knows they do not take kindly to their citizens being smuggled out.”
Connie stared at Isaac but he remained pensive and quiet.
“Sir,” she said, “I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, but we’re trying to identify a kid that nobody has even reported missing. We’re looking through stacks of files on perverts that ... well, it’s a little like looking for that proverbial needle in a haystack.”
Isaac stared intently ahead and Connie had the feeling that he was only half listening.
“Believe me,” she continued. “I want to catch this sick ...” Connie paused, glancing at the Bible on Isaac’s desk, and continued, “this sick person. Whoever did this ... well, the profile indicates he’ll do it again. This case is a priority for our whole office. We won’t rest until—”
“Have you checked with Intelligence?” asked Isaac.
Connie sat back in her chair. “Ah ... no, sir. We’re not looking at this as organized crime. The profile indicates a person acting alone. Probably single, keeps to ...”
Isaac raised his hand, signalling for Connie to stop and said, “Check with Intelligence. Corporal Taggart was working on a file involving human smuggling. Constable Secord was assisting him. The main culprits are Russian, but I believe it also involved local Vietnamese criminals.”
“I wasn’t aware of that, sir. I’ll go to their office and talk with Jack immediately.”
“Um ... I spoke with Staff Quaile this morning,” said Isaac. “He indicated that Corporal Taggart was home with the flu.”
“I know Jack, sir. He’s dedicated. He won’t mind if I call him.”
Isaac shook his head and said, “No, there’s a bit of a ... situation ... with Corporal Taggart at the moment. He’s been transferred and is no longer with Intelligence.”
“I wasn’t aware of that, sir.”
“It only happened yesterday.”
Isaac was about to suggest that Connie speak with Constable Secord, but he remembered that she was the reason Quaile called him this morning and thought better of it. At least for now.
Later that night, Isaac sat alone in his den, holding the picture of his daughter in his hand when Sarah entered the room. He quickly put the picture down.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll be right out. Didn’t mean to abandon you for the evening. Just needed a few minutes to think some things out.”
“A few minutes?” said Sarah. “Honey, you’ve been in here for two hours, ever since dinner.”
“Has it been that long?” he asked, genuinely surprised.
Sarah walked over and stood behind him and bent over, wrapping her arms around the front of his chest. “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” said Sarah, looking at the picture on the desk. “I miss her, too.”
Isaac nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Are you going to talk to me about it?” asked Sarah.
“About what?”
“About why you’ve hardly spoken a word to me ever since Aggi and Leon were here for dinner. Now tonight, it’s worse. Something happened today, didn’t it?”
Isaac swivelled his chair around, wrapping his arm around Sarah and sitting her on his lap. “You would have made a great detective,” he said.
“Doesn’t take much detective work to figure you out,” she said. “Not after thirty years of marriage. You’ve only acted this way once before, when ...” she didn’t finish, but glanced at the picture and back at her husband’s face.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Can’t you talk to me about it?”
Isaac took a deep breath and slowly let the air out before replying, “I’m troubled over a homicide case.”
“The one Aggi told you about?”
Isaac nodded.
“You’ve encountered horrific cases before.”
“I know, but now, after losing Norah, it bothers me more.”
“Now you know what some other parent feels like after losing a child.”
Isaac nodded.
“We’ve had to learn to accept it. The pain never goes away ... but time makes it more bearable.”
Isaac looked into his wife’s eyes. No parent could ever accept or understand what this little girl went through.
“You’re worried that you won’t be able to solve the case?” asked Sarah.
Isaac nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Lord, surely you can show no mercy for whoever did this?
“Well, as you always said ... you just pick the best person for the job and let them do it. What else can you do?”
Her words echoed and replayed themselves in Isaac’s head.
If I were a criminal ... a child molester ... who would be the last person I would ever want on my trail?
“What is it, dear?”
“I think you’ve given me a message,” replied Isaac.
A few minutes later, Isaac kissed his wife goodbye at the door.
“I should come with you,” she said.
Isaac shook his head and left by himself. It was the first time outside of a normal religious event that he had gone to church in the evening.
It was also the first time that he felt justified in asking for forgiveness.