Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 82 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

“I didn’t say that,” said Jack, chuckling. “I’ve got about a thousand pictures stored in a laptop. I’ve never been shy about keeping files on people who are even remotely connected.”

“That would be you,” said Connie. “Civil liberties be damned.”

“You want photos but are accusing me of breaching civil liberties?” replied Jack, quietly.

Connie was silent for a moment, before saying, “Sorry. I didn’t really mean that. It just came out. Guess I have a bit of an attitude with how you do things.”

“With how I do things? What would ever prompt you to —”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t even start.”

“Start what?”

“Well, I could go down a list, but I’ve seen and heard your act before.”

“My act?”

“Yeah. The old show surprise, act concerned, deny, deny, deny routine.”

Jack grinned to himself, but didn’t respond.

“Don’t know how some people can be so gullible around you. You better pray I never get transferred to Internal. I’d nail your ass in a minute.”

“I don’t pray. I’m an atheist, remember?”

“Good. Means you can be objective about this one.”

“Can’t say I’m partial to people who murder our senior citizens …”

“Jack —”

“I’m teasing. Do you want me to meet you at your office and show Gabriel the pictures?”

“She’s running a daycare, plus she has her own two children. One of them is a little girl who is sick in bed. Could you could bring the pictures over here?”

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” replied Jack. “But to make it clear,” he said, giving a wink to Laura, “it is you, the renowned Corporal Connie Crane who is asking Laura and I to assist. You are not going to accuse us of butting in? You’re really asking … well, I’d say … begging for our help?”

“Just bring the goddamned pictures,” replied Connie gruffly. Her brusque tone was not genuine and she smiled when she hung up. At least this is one case that’s not personal for him …

When Connie realized she had started to fondle the crucifix around her neck again, it gave her cause to remind herself to retain her own objectivity and professionalism. Her thoughts returned to the case. What degenerate monster would murder a defenceless old man? A retired priest yet … whoever you are, rest assured, I will track you down, you son of a bitch!

“You okay?” asked Bert.

“Oh, yeah,” replied Connie, with determination. “I’m on top of my game with this one,” she added, while opening the car door.

“You going inside for a look?”

Connie paused to read an incoming text on her BlackBerry from the Forensic Identification Section. She looked at Bert and said, “That was FIS. They’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’m going to take a look at what we’ve got. Send them my way when they arrive.”

Connie stopped near the top of the stairs leading to the basement and stared at the dark stain in the lawn and the blood splatters on the back of the house. A large pinkish puddle had collected on the cement pad in front of the basement door. Odd … the murder took place outside … should be a bloody trail leading down the steps to where the body was dragged to get it out of sight … The smell of bleach reached her nose to answer her question. Bastards! They poured bleach on the steps on their way out to obliterate any footprints that would normally have been left in the blood. Whoever did this is calculating … not the type to panic. Professional …

Connie’s thoughts were about collecting physical evidence and figuring out what happened. She was wrong in her belief that the basement had been rented to a couple of men who were janitors. The idea of tripping a booby trap with a bomb never crossed her mind as she pushed open the basement door and stepped inside.

Chapter Three

Jack and Laura arrived at Gabriel’s house as Gabriel stood on the sidewalk, apologizing to a mother who was strapping her child into a car seat.

Jack and Laura spoke to a uniformed Mountie who told them that Connie was around back and had gone into the basement suite. Jack watched Gabriel say goodbye and stood waiting to meet her. By the frightened look on the mother’s face, Jack had little doubt that she would never bring her child back again.

Gabriel did not look frightened. Her eyes were puffy with streaks of mascara on her cheeks and blotchy red patches on her face and neck. She was too grief-stricken to be afraid. When she started to return to the house, Jack and Laura introduced themselves.

“We would like you to look at some pictures for us,” said Laura, gesturing to the laptop she was holding. “We are sorry to have to ask you to do this now, but time could be of the essence.”

Gabriel turned as a young girl wearing pajamas came out the front door and stood at the top of the steps. “Faith! Go back in the house,” yelled Gabriel.

“I want to see,” wined Faith.

“No —” Gabriel stopped as Noah came out and put his arm around Faith’s shoulders to guide her back into the house.

Faith protested, but gave in to her big brother and both children disappeared inside.

“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel, turning back to Jack. “Could we do this at my kitchen table?”

“That would work better,” said Jack. “Give us a couple of minutes to talk with one of the investigators and we’ll be right in.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” said Gabriel tearfully as they walked toward the house. “They seemed like such nice men.”

“They told you they were janitors?” questioned Jack.

“Well, sort of,” she replied, while heading up the steps. “They were more to do with supplying the right chemicals to other janitorial services who did the actual cleaning.”

“I’ll talk to you later. I need to talk to the lead investigator immediately,” replied Jack abruptly as he turned and headed toward the rear of the house. Laura excused herself to Gabriel and hurried to keep up with him.

“Don’t like the sound of that,” muttered Jack.

“The chemical bit?” asked Laura. “You’re thinking – not in a daycare! They wouldn’t!”

Jack pointed to a row of rhododendron bushes planted alongside the house. They looked healthy, except for two plants in the center with leaves that were blackened and curled as if burned. “Look at that,” said Jack. “They would and they did.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Laura. “Maybe —”

“Connie!” screamed Jack, breaking into a run. “Anybody in the basement, don’t move!” He rounded the corner to the backyard within seconds.

“Hi, Jack,” said Connie, peering out from the basement door. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

“You don’t smell anything in there?” asked Jack, looking down at her from the top of the basement stairs.

“Careful you don’t step on anything,” cautioned Connie. She looked puzzled and said, “Smell anything? Well, yeah. The whole place stinks of bleach or something. The assholes used it to obliterate their tracks. Noticed it when I first came in, but most of the smell is gone now.”

“Like hell the smell is gone,” replied Jack. “The fumes erase your sense of smell. Not to mention, killing plants.”

“I don’t understand. Why were you yelling at me not to move?”

“Connie, you’re standing in a bloody meth lab,” replied Jack. “I’m sure of it. If not meth, then something else as bad. A lot of these places are booby-trapped.”

“Booby-traps? … Christ, I don’t think so. I’ve already been through it. The place has been cleaned out. But it is bloody, I’ll say that much. You can come in and see … but be careful.”

“If I’m careful,” replied Jack. He turned to Laura and said, “Wait out here.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” she replied.

The smell of chemicals assaulted Jack’s nostrils as soon as he entered. Within seconds he couldn’t smell anything as his sensory organs became temporarily incapacitated. He looked at the diluted trail of blood leading to the prone figure on the floor. The victim’s face had been literally pulverized. His silk bathrobe was halfway up his chest from being dragged inside by the ankles. A gold crucifix on a chain from his neck was resting on the floor above his head, with the chain held in place by his chin and ears.

“Wearing a bathrobe?” questioned Jack.

“They had trouble with winos sleeping under the trees in their backyard at night. Maybe he heard something and went out thinking he was rousting a wino and caught these guys instead.”

“I’d say they caught him,” replied Jack. “Nothing left of his face. Whoever did him must have a hell of a temper.”

“The perp had to be doused in blood,” commented Connie. “I’m not the blood-splatter expert, but if you noticed the splashes up the back of the house, I bet he was whacked at least half a dozen times.” She gestured to a cement construction brick lying in a puddle of bleach nearby and added, “It was nice of them to leave the murder weapon behind.”

“Wasn’t so nice that they poured bleach over it afterward,” noted Jack. “Anything in here to give us a clue who they were?”

“Not that I could see, but take a look and be my guest,” replied Connie.

“A quick look,” replied Jack. “We shouldn’t be poking around in here without wearing hazmat suits. Let’s make this quick and get out.”

Jack saw a clean, square patch on the outside of a door leading to a separate room. Connie saw what he was looking at and said, “I told you they cleaned it out. Looks like they must have had a list or a picture or something on the door.”

Inside the room were several wooden benches and shelves, all with chemical stains and circular burn marks where bottles had dripped. Jack saw where acidic fumes had blackened some of the walls and ceiling. High on one wall a small exhaust fan had been left with its frame screwed into the wall. The fan was blackened with a dark film of dirt and covered a fist-sized circular hole leading to the outside. Toxic fumes had burned the rhododendrons outside.

“I was right,” said Jack. “This was their kitchen.”

“Kitchen?” replied Connie.

“Not for making pasta,” replied Jack, slowly gazing around the room. A small eyehole screw mounted in the corner of the room close to the ceiling caught his attention. His gaze followed the same height to a similar screw stuck in the wall above the door jamb. “You see that?” asked Jack.

“Couple of screws?” asked Connie.

Jack examined the top of the door and pointed to several small holes in the wood. “They had a switch mounted here,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Trip wire,” replied Jack. This place was booby-trapped. Pretty common with labs. Nasty surprise for anyone wanting to rip the place off.”

“What about cops?” replied Connie angrily. “I’d have walked right into it.”

“Don’t think they care about cops, either … or nosy neighbours, for that matter. Some of these idiots don’t realize they would get more time in jail for setting a booby trap than they do for the lab itself. Lucky for you they decided to take their stuff with them. Let’s get out of here. The fumes are really carcinogenic.”

“What’s the proper procedure now?” asked Connie.

“Drug Section has specially trained members to dismantle clandestine labs under the direction of a chemist. This has already been dismantled so I would call in a Health Inspector who will cordon off the building. The place may only need a really good cleaning or it could require renovations. As far as Forensics go, see what the Health Inspector says, but you may need to tell them to wear hazmat suits, as well.”

“What about the idiots making it? Don’t the bad guys —”

“Some take precautions or wear masks, but that is a far cry from the proper protection of a hazmat suit. If they stay at it, they end up with brains the size of walnuts or blow themselves up before they die of cancer.”

Connie nodded, but stopped to stare at Father Brown’s body. A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and glistened off the crucifix in sharp contrast to the pool of blood.

“You Catholic?” asked Jack.

Connie nodded.

“Think maybe you should turn the investigation over to someone who isn’t?”

“Why?”

“If it goes to court the defence will say that because of your belief you weren’t objective in the investigation and claim you framed whoever did this out of blind rage.”

“I may feel rage at what took place, but I’m not blind. I’m seeing this through to the end.”

Jack shrugged in response.

On their way up the outside steps, Connie gave Jack a sideways glance and said, “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would be trying to slam me on objectivity.”

“I wasn’t slamming you. Simply saying what the defence will do.”

“Well?” interrupted Laura, looking questioningly at Jack as he and Connie stepped outside.

“Clandestine lab,” said Jack.

Laura glanced at the upper portion of the house before briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Connie realized what Laura was thinking and she turned to Jack to ask a question that she feared she already knew the answer to. “You said carcinogenic … what about the people who live upstairs?”

“Who knows,” replied Jack. “For them it will be like living with a ticking time bomb. Never knowing if … or when it will kill you. The bad guys used an exhaust fan … maybe the people upstairs are okay … maybe not. Everyone who has spent any amount of time in the place should get checked out.”

“She was running a daycare,” said Connie quietly.

“I know,” replied Jack.

“Kids … babies,” said Laura, “everyone will have to keep checking to make sure they don’t —” she stopped, choosing instead to bite her lip to maintain control of her emotions.

Unlike Laura, Connie’s sorrow and fear was replaced with anger. “These sons of bitches killed a priest,” she said vehemently. “They had the place booby trapped … meth lab in a daycare … they don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.” She unconsciously clenched her fist as she stared at Jack. “I want these guys. I want them behind bars for the rest of their lives.”

“You and me both,” said Jack sombrely. “We’ll meet with Gabriel and show her the pictures. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

All three of them stared up at the house and took a moment to regain control of their emotions. Connie was the first to talk. “I’m told Gabriel is distraught and in shock,” she cautioned. “Time is of the essence. I want her to be able to focus right now, so don’t tell her about the cancer stuff. When you’re done, I’ll take a statement from her, after which I’ll tell her to go to the doctor. The sooner we can find these guys the better.”

Jack sighed and said, “Okay, the ugly part of introducing her to her future nightmares will be left to you.”

“Along with contacting all the parents who brought their children here,” added Laura.

Connie nodded in agreement and said, “The pictures might be our best bet. Got a feeling that Forensics will be a dead end. I’d like to get these assholes before they’ve destroyed any more evidence. With the amount of blood the actual killer would have on him, even if he showers, we might still find trace amounts under his nails or up his nose and in his ears … providing we get him soon.”

“We’ll let you know in about an hour,” replied Jack.

Jack and Laura spent the next forty-five minutes sitting with Gabriel at her kitchen table while Jack presented a slide show on his laptop of all the bikers he knew in British Columbia, along with their friends and associates.

During this time, Noah sat in the living room while Faith, not understanding what had happened, was content to lie under a blanket on the sofa and snooze.

“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel, when the slide show ended. “I don’t think any of these people are them.” She wiped her eyes again, barely controlling her tears as she had during the entire process. Jack knew that her grief over Father Brown was genuine and her inability to help added to her grief.

“The men who were in my basement looked nice,” sniffled Gabriel. “They didn’t look dirty or have long hair and beards like most of the people in these pictures.”

Jack nodded that he understood.

Gabriel leaned back in her chair, extending her arms by her side, and said, “I still don’t understand. Father Brown was a beautiful person. He would read bedtime stories to Faith, help Noah with his homework. Babysit.… He went out of his way to help complete strangers. He didn’t have money … so why? Why would anyone commit such an ungodly act?”

“We’ll do our best to find out who did it and why,” replied Jack.

“Maybe it wasn’t the people downstairs. Maybe it was one of those drunken men who keep coming to my yard. Some use very bad language and —”

“Everything has been cleaned out of the basement,” said Jack. “Also the door was locked and Father Brown is inside.”

Gabriel stared blankly at Jack. When her mind accepted his reasoning, she focused on another matter. “There’s blood out on the lawn and the house. I’ll need to clean it,” she said, placing her elbows on the table and covering her face with her hands.

“Try not to think about that,” said Jack, feeling lame. How can she not think of it? “You’re going to need some emotional support. I’ll put you in touch with Victim Services. They will help you. Is there a place … relatives, somewhere you could stay for a few days?”

“I have a sister in North Van. She has a house … but she’s married … children. I don’t want to impose …”

“Under the circumstances you should stay with her. You’re still in shock. It’s difficult to think clearly. You need to do what is best for you and your children.”

Gabriel didn’t respond. The silence was broken when Noah and Faith came in and Faith tugged on Gabriel’s sleeve. “Mommy, my throat hurts,” she whined, before coughing.

Gabriel lifted her onto her lap and looked at Jack and said, “She had the mumps vaccination last week and has a bit of a lump on her neck. Likely a small reaction.”

Jack caught the look on Laura’s face. He knew her concern was the same as his. She said, “Jack, why don’t you call Natasha and ask her if that type of reaction is normal?”

“Natasha?” asked Gabriel.

“My wife is a doctor,” explained Jack, getting up from his chair. He walked into the living room and called Natasha on his BlackBerry. He knew the reaction wasn’t normal, but hoped he was wrong. Natasha confirmed that he wasn’t.

“Can I look at the pictures?” asked Noah as soon as Jack returned to the kitchen.

“Sure,” replied Jack. “Push this button each time you want to advance.”

“I know how to use a computer,” said Noah. “Are all these really bad guys?”

“Some are and some might be their friends,” replied Jack.

“But if you’re friends of a bad guy then aren’t you a bad guy, too?” asked Noah.

“You don’t always know who the bad guys are,” replied Jack, glancing at Faith curled up on Gabriel’s lap.

Gabriel stroked Faith’s hair with her hand and asked, “Were you able to talk with your wife? What did she say?”

“Um … she said that type of reaction is not normal and that you should have her checked out right away. It could be a lot of things.”

“Like what?” asked Gabriel, her face revealing her worry.

“She, uh, didn’t really elaborate. How long has she been sick?”

“Only a few days.”

“Anybody else sick in the house?” asked Jack.

“No, thank the Lord,” replied Gabriel.

“Jack,” said Laura, “I don’t think we should wait for Connie to take a statement if Natasha said —”

Jack put up his hand, signalling for Laura to stop and turned to Gabriel and said, “Does Faith have her own bedroom?”

“Yes,” replied Gabriel, sounding puzzled.

“I would like to see it,” replied Jack. “Would you mind?”

“I haven’t cleaned it,” replied Gabriel. “With her being sick … the bed isn’t made.”

“That’s okay,” replied Jack. “We’re not with Good Housekeeping.”

“Okay … I’ll show you,” replied Gabriel. She carried Faith down the hall as Jack and Laura followed. As they reached the bedroom door Gabriel asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Examining if Faith could be sick from an environmental cause,” replied Jack.

“I told you I hadn’t cleaned for a few days,” responded Gabriel nervously, “but I am sure that my housekeeping is not such as to make anyone sick. If you are thinking …”

“From what I can see, your home is impeccable,” replied Jack, entering the bedroom. “I’m more concerned with fumes coming up from the basement.”

“Oh, that,” said Gabriel, sounding relieved. “I’m used to it and don’t smell it anymore. What you’re smelling is cleaning fluids that the men downstairs sometimes mix up for different cleaning solutions. They told me that different types of floors and rugs require different types of cleaning agents.”

Jack spotted a discoloration on the wallpaper alongside Faith’s bed. He got on his knees and looked under the bed. What he saw made him want to retch. It was a cold-air return vent coming up from the basement. He was conscious of Laura getting down on her knees and looking. Their eyes met and he saw her mouth drop open in shock as their eyes met.

“I found him!” yelled Noah, from the kitchen. “This is one of them!”

The excitement of Noah’s discovery caused Jack and Laura to temporarily suspend their thoughts on the cold-air return. Seconds later, everyone huddled around Noah at the kitchen table as he proudly pointed to a picture.

“See?” said Noah, pointing at the picture with his finger. “That’s Joe.”

“Oh, no, honey,” said Gabriel, while ruffling Noah’s hair. “Joe doesn’t have a beard. This man looks —”

“No, Mom,” said Noah, sounding exasperated. “His hair is the same colour.”

“Reddish-blond,” said Gabriel. “Honey, lots of people have hair that colour.”

“No,” said Noah adamantly. “You never believe me. You’re so dense sometimes,” he muttered.

“Noah Parsons, you don’t talk that way with me,” replied Gabriel crossly.

“Mom, look closer at his eyes,” pleaded Noah. “He even has the same freckles on his nose.”

Gabriel looked again and after a few seconds she brought her face closer to the screen. “Good heavens, you’re right,” she said in amazement. “It is him!” She looked at Jack and added, “But his hair is short now and he is clean shaven.”

“Told you so,” said Noah, looking pleased with himself.

Jack knew the man in the photo. Herman Varrick. A year and a half ago Varrick ran one of seven labs on which Jack orchestrated raids after receiving information from an informant inside Satans Wrath. An informant he no longer had.

To make matters worse, Satans Wrath had an informant of their own. Someone working in Drug Section had tipped off some of the labs prior to the raid. Those who were arrested were released the following day. Some were still awaiting trial, including Varrick. So far, the dirty narc had never been identified.

Jack reflected upon the time of the raids and the time that Varrick moved into Gabriel’s home. Varrick relocated here as a result of what I did. I’m responsible for —

Faith coughed and started to cry.

Jack stared at Faith. His brain tried to protect him from what his actions may have caused. Maybe she has a cold. Could be nothing – the cold air return under her bed … still …

He continued to stare as his thoughts gave in to the more likely reason for her illness. He clenched his jaw in an effort to control his own tears of frustration and sadness.