Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 91 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

At nine o’clock Friday morning, Jack and Laura, driving an SUV, arrived at Sy’s apartment complex followed by a local moving truck. Sy gave them the keys to their apartment and the underground parking garage. By three o’clock that afternoon they were completely moved in and unpacked. Their furniture was rented and their dishes and cutlery had been purchased from Walmart.

The two men who drove and unloaded the moving truck had another purpose. They were with a specialized unit of the RCMP. All rooms in the apartment would be bugged for safety.

At midnight Jack and Laura left the apartment and returned an hour later. They used a two-wheeled moving dolly to haul two new television sets up to their apartment. Jack left one television on the dolly outside in the hall and the other one on the floor inside the front entrance.

“Good as time as any,” said Jack, walking in to the bedroom which he knew was above Sy’s apartment.

Jack checked his watch and then jumped high in the air and landed with a loud thud. Fifteen minutes later he jumped again. A repetition of four more followed before they heard Sy bang on the ceiling with a broom handle.

“He’s really getting mad now,” commented Laura.

Two jumps later, an enraged Sy appeared in the hallway outside their apartment. Jack pretended not to see him as he struggled with the dolly and said, “This is the last one, Princess.”

Sy appeared behind his shoulder and saw Laura dragging a large cardboard box that she had lifted by one end. She spotted Sy and let the box drop, making a loud thud.

“What the hell are you two doing?” seethed Sy. “It’s after two o’clock in the fucking morning!”

“Damn it, Princess!” said Jack. “Were you dropping them all like that? This is an apartment. You have to remember to keep the noise down.”

“They’re heavy,” she said. “I’m not a weightlifter.”

Jack turned to Sy and said, “I’m really sorry. A friend of mine was supposed to move this stuff tonight and his truck broke down. He called me at midnight in a big panic to help take a few sets off his hands.”

“Consider this your first and last warning,” replied Sy. “I live right below ya. No more fuckin’ noise or you’re out!”

“I understand completely,” replied Jack. “As an apology, I’ll give you this last set.”

Sy looked at the box and said, “It’s a fifty-inch plasma television set … the box hasn’t even been opened. You’re giving it to me?”

“Yes, I think it should be a good set,” replied Jack. “My friend is … uh, in the electronic business. These are … uh, extra sets that nobody wants. Out of date or something. Give me a hand and we’ll haul it down to your place. The only thing is there is no warranty. If something ever goes wrong with it, don’t try to get it fixed on warranty.”

Sy smiled. Rodine had told him that Jack was connected to the Irish mafia and into moving stolen property. He had a feeling that he and his new tenants would become good friends. At least, he hoped they would.

The following Monday night, Sy awoke to one loud thud coming from above. After that, everything was quiet. At noon the next day he answered a knock on his door.

Jack stood there with a sealed case of Russian vodka.

“Hi, Jay. What’s this?” asked Sy.

“I dropped one of these last night,” said Jack. “Sorry about that. I bet it woke you.” He handed the case to Sy and said, “A gift for you.”

“You’re giving me a dozen bottles of vodka?”

“Yeah. I … uh, have a friend in the liquor business. It didn’t cost me anything.”

“No warranty?” said Sy with a smile.

Jack chuckled and said, “Yeah. No warranty against headaches.”

“If you’re not up to anything, how about having a drink with me?” suggested Sy. “We could watch a movie on my new television. It works great, by the way.”

“That’s good. A drink sounds good, too. Mind if I go get Princess?”

“Not at all. I think we have enough,” replied Sy, hoisting the case of vodka for emphasis.

“Well, if we run out, I’ve got more,” said Jack.

By mid-afternoon, Sy had guzzled enough vodka mixed with Red Bull that he had loosened up a little. He looked down at his dirty jeans and rumpled shirt and cast a glance at Jack and Laura, who were dressed in trendy clothes.

“You guys do alright, doncha?” Sy said.

“We do all right,” admitted Jack.

“Yeah, I can tell. Come with me a sec, will ya? Want to take a little walk. You don’t mind, do ya, Princess? I’ll bring your man right back.”

“I don’t mind,” replied Laura. “It will give me time to pour another drink.” One without vodka.

Outside in the hallway, Sy said, “I make a rule of never talkin’ business inside my place. You never know who is listenin’.”

“Good rule,” said Jack. “Back east I used to have my places swept once a month. Then I figured it was smarter not to say anything inside.”

“You had your places swept … man … your cousin told me that … you know, you were connected. I didn’t realize how big. Plus I thought that was back east.”

“The world is getting smaller,” replied Jack. “We have a lot of friends. Some are out west.”

“Shit, I can see why ya got friends. You are one generous guy.”

“Ah, hell,” said Jack, brushing off his comment. “That’s nothing. Chump change. My friend did get his truck fixed, so most times we’ll use a proper storage place. The other night with the truck breaking down and the storage locker closing, we were in a bind.”

“Chump change? That television ain’t no chicken feed to me.” Sy looked at Jack suspiciously and said, “The way you’re dressed and everything … your watch … necklace … you got money.”

“I get by.”

“So why move into a dump like this?”

“This isn’t our only place,” replied Jack. “I don’t believe in putting all my eggs in one basket. Along with my friends, I’ve also made a few enemies along the way. I like having more than one place to hang my hat. Rodent said you were a solid guy. Someone who could keep his mouth shut. Figured it would be a safe place if we needed one.”

“Your, uh, other place is a little nicer, I bet,” said Sy.

“One is. I’m not exactly the trusting sort. Only Princess knows the location of my other places.”

“One is?” repeated Sy. “Man, that’s smart. Maybe somethin’ I should think of.”

“You have enemies?” asked Jack.

“Did your cousin tell ya much about me?” countered Sy.

Jack shrugged and said, “I know my cousin is a chef.”

“A chef? Oh, yeah,” chuckled Sy.

“I presumed you were in business with him.”

“We do some stuff together,” admitted Sy. “But do I have enemies? Fuckin’ right. Things are gettin’ hot. A guy has to be careful.”

“Hot! If you have heat then I’m not staying here,” said Jack, sounding angry. “Rodent didn’t say anything about the police sniffing around.”

“No, no. Not that kind of heat,” Sy assured him. “It’s the competition. People encroachin’ into places they shouldn’t.”

“Ah, I see,” replied Jack.

“We’ve been tradin’ messages back and forth.”

“Good to communicate,” said Jack.

Sy smiled and said, “Not the type you’re thinkin’ of. The kind where you drive fast …” As he spoke, Sy used his hand to simulate firing a gun. “You ever do that?”

Jack shook his head and said, “Nope. That attracts the police and usually doesn’t accomplish anything. I prefer the magician’s act.”

“The magician’s act?”

“Make the bunny disappear.”

Sy smirked and said, “You are one cool dude. You into the powder?”

“I don’t use. I like to keep my brain intact.”

“No, I don’t mean usin’. I mean making money off it.”

“Dope is something I’ve kept away from. Too risky for me. I have an aversion to going to jail.”

“Fuck, man. You’re not back east now. We’re in B.C. Things are different out here.”

“So I heard.”

“Besides, if a guy is smart, he don’t take risks himself. You get the YDUs to do that.”

“YDUs?” asked Jack.

“The young, dumb, and uglies,” laughed Sy. “Come on, let’s go back inside. Maybe I’ll invite a couple people I know.”

The drinking in Sy’s apartment lasted several hours. During that time, a few young people came and went. They were of mixed ethnic background, including Asian and East Indian. Jack doubted that few of them were older than their early twenties.

One exception was Brewski, who lived next door to Sy. He showed up with a teenaged girl hugging him around his waist. The girl had a good figure and wore a low-cut sweater to show off her ample breasts. Her light brown hair was curly and cropped short. She could be attractive, thought Jack, if she didn’t look like a hardened slut.

“Brewski is my right-hand man,” slurred Sy in a drunken whisper to Jack. “Not like all these other fuckin’ YDUs.”

Brewski heard the comment and stood a little straighter. He was proud to be identified as being important to Sy. Jack smiled to himself. Sy isn’t overly bright, but Brewski is even slower.

“Meet my girl,” said Brewski. “Lorraine, say hi to Sy’s new buddy.”

“Well helloooo,” Lorraine crooned, unwrapping herself from Brewski and running her hand down Jack’s chest.

Jack remembered Lorraine Calder from the investigation into Julie Goodwin’s suicide. It was difficult to feign friendship. “Time for me to check with my own girl,” he said, and walked over to join Laura.

“Time to slip away?” Laura asked. She had witnessed Lorraine’s arrival and knew that it would not be good to make an enemy out of Brewski.

“Yes, I’ve had about all I can stand.”

“You’re telling me,” whispered Laura. “I’m old enough to be most of these kids’ mother. If I hear one more sentence start with, so like, this is cool dude or so like, this is rockin’, I think I’m, so like, going to slap someone.”

Over the next week, Jack and Laura became better acquainted with Sy, who was beginning to open up more and more. One afternoon, Jack walked down the one flight to visit with Sy and saw him talking to a man in the hallway. The man, in his early thirties, was obese with a shaved head that showed the rolls of fat on the back of his neck. He quit talking and nudged Sy as Jack approached.

“Hey, Sy,” said Jack. “Princess is out shopping. I hate sitting alone, so wondered if you were up to having a beer?”

“Hell of a good idea,” smiled Sy. “We’re done business here, anyway.” Sy introduced his acquaintance as “Munch.”

“You want to join us?” Sy asked Munch.

Munch shook his head and said, “Gotta take care of business.”

“What, you headin’ to a buffet someplace?” asked Sy with a smile.

“Fuck you,” said Munch, chuckling. “I did that at noon.”

As Munch walked away, Sy looked at Jack and said, “He’s a good guy. Someone solid who is on my side of The Brotherhood.”

“The Brotherhood?”

“We used to be independent gangs, but there were problems. We thought if we met and talked, maybe we could resolve our problems. Like in the movies with those New York families.”

“Sounds professional.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. It was my idea. So the seven biggest gangs formed a coalition and we called ourselves The Brotherhood. For a little while, things were great. We even did business with each other.”

“What happened?”

“Ah, next thing ya know, squabbles started breaking out over new territory. Then we started fighting over what had long been our own turf. It’s gotten that you never know when some fucker will drive by and take a shot at ya. Two of the other gangs are on my side. Munch is the boss of one of ’em. The boss of the other gang is a guy called Mongo.”

“You mentioned last week that you were involved with drive-bys,” said Jack. “It’s good that you have some allies. Are you at war with all of the other gangs?”

“Three for sure. The fourth one is riding the fence.”

“Sounds like you should convince the fence-rider to go your way. Make it four against three.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Maybe he’s trying to play you against each other and is hoping to come out on top when the smoke clears,” suggested Jack.

Sy’s face darkened and he said, “The fuckin’ dirty Indo’! You think so? That would be Rashard’s style.”

“I don’t know the guy, but I’ve encountered similar problems back east.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Start making friends. People you can trust. The more the merrier. The bigger your group, the less chance someone will want to mess with you. It isn’t any fun if you’re worrying about dodging bullets all the time. The idea is to make money and enjoy life. If you have to share a little of the profits … well who really cares as long as you’re still making lots.”

Sy stared at Jack momentarily and said, “I like how you think. Some day I’d like to be top boss of all these fuckers. The thing is, I know of six other guys who want the same thing.”

“Mongo, Munch, Rashard, and three others?”

“Yeah, three others,” replied Sy, looking irked that Jack had paid such close attention.

“Well, glad I’m not involved,” said Jack. “I’d never want to be the boss. Too much pressure. It was one of the reasons I moved out west. People wanted me to step up and be boss. For a while I made all the right moves, but after meeting Princess, I decided I didn’t want it. I like feeling safe and comfortable. Speaking of which, it makes me nervous hearing about stuff that’s none of my business. How about a beer and watch a movie or something?”

Sy studied Jack briefly. Good, he doesn’t really want to talk about it. Can’t be all that interested.… Maybe I didn’t fuck up by sayin’ too much. “Yeah, sounds like a perfect plan,” replied Sy. “Come in to my place. I got a two-four of Lucky.”

Over the next three cans of Lucky beer, Sy brooded more and more about what Jack had told him. Curious background, he thought, glancing at Jack. He is one smart fucker. If I can get him to trust me more, I bet he could help me with some of the right moves. Like in The Godfather movie … I’d be the top boss and maybe Jay could be my fuckin’ consigliere or whatever the fuck it is called.

Sy looked at Jack and said, “You up to anything Saturday night?”

“That’s two days from now. I don’t think I am, but I’m not sure, I’d have to check with Princess. Why?”

“My YDUs are havin’ a party at a house that a couple of my guys are rentin’. I gotta make an appearance. I tell ya, it would really be doing me a favour.”

“I’m not much for hanging out with kids,” replied Jack.

“Me, either. That’s the point. I feel like a loser at my age showing up alone at a party with a bunch of bubble-gummers. With you there, I can make an excuse. Say we’re goin’ someplace else after.”

“Why not go with Brewski?”

“He’s got some business to take care of.”

Jack nodded and said, “Okay, as long as I drive. If you decide to stay, then Princess and I can leave.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that. I don’t want to stay long, either. Drop by and throw a few goodies around, have a couple of beer, give a few dumb fucks a pat on the back and then split.”

Later that night, Jack and Laura had a meeting with Connie, Sammy, and Dan Mylo from the Integrated Task Force. Everyone was pleased with how much progress had been made. With the information Jack provided, Dan and Sammy agreed to apply for wiretap authorizations on all the main people.

“The bug monitors are going to be swamped,” said Sammy.

“At least now we know who some of the guys are who are calling the shots,” said Dan. But you’re right, they are going to be busy.”

“Make sure you keep Laura and me out of court,” said Jack.

“I’ll check with the prosecution,” said Sammy. “If it goes to court we will try to keep it on a case-by-case basis. Worse comes to worse, we withdraw a charge.”

“Speaking of which,” said Connie, “Don’t you have a court case tomorrow?”

“In Victoria,” replied Jack. “Not to worry, I’ll be on the seven o’clock ferry in the morning and should catch an afternoon ferry back. I checked with Victoria. None of McCall’s current associates know me, so even if they do show up, I should be okay.”

“Good,” replied Connie.

“It’s going to be good when they slam the door on McCall,” said Jack. “Victoria PD is concerned. They want me to wear Kevlar and are assigning a four-man bodyguard team to accompany me to court.”

“What do you figure he will get?” asked Connie.

“His record includes three convictions for dealing cocaine and he was only out of jail two weeks when he sold to me. In any other province I would expect him to be sent away for six or seven years, but knowing our justice system here, I’m guessing more like three or four years.”

“Good luck,” said Sammy.

“I’ve also called Amanda,” said Jack. “I’m going to meet her for a coffee after court. I’ve got a bunch of her effects that I gathered up from Gabriel’s.”

“I’ve been wondering how she is doing,” said Connie. “Hope she is well enough to give a strong testimony when the time comes.”

“I hope so, too. I’ll let you know. Tomorrow is also when Ngoc Bích testifies against the two Vietnamese brothers for the rape, beatings, and imprisonment in one of their brothels. I’d appreciate it if you stayed close to her tomorrow.”

“I know about her trial,” said Connie. “I’ve been assured that there is extra security already.”

Jack stared at Connie without speaking.

“Okay, I’ll be there, too,” said Connie.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief and smile. The system is working as it should …

Tomorrow would drastically change Jack’s opinion regarding that.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jack walked into the Victoria courtroom and immediately saw a look of disappointment cross McCall’s face, followed by anger as he whispered to his lawyer, who glanced at Jack, before turning back to McCall.

Jack quickly surveyed the courtroom. His four bodyguards moved past him and took up strategic positions. Jack smiled to himself. He was pleased for two reasons. The first was that McCall actually showed up. The second was the sight of the young lawyer with McCall.

Jack guessed it was the lawyer’s first year of practice. Jack was a seasoned veteran in the courtroom and knew he would come out on top with any comments the young lawyer would throw at him while testifying. The truth will prevail!

Perhaps the lawyer sensed so, as well. He changed the plea to guilty. Jack listened as the prosecutor read in the circumstances of the drug sale, McCall’s lengthy record, his only being out of jail two weeks before the crime and – what Jack thought was a nice touch – the fact that McCall had remained legally unemployed ever since his arrest. Someone did their homework ... Jack glanced at Dave Valentine who grinned and gave him the thumbs-up.

Jack listened as the fresh-faced lawyer stood to address the judge. He explained that the reason his client had not been able to obtain employment was because of the severe psychological stress that his client had been subjected to by the RCMP.

Jack glanced at the members of the Victoria PD who were in the courtroom. He could tell by the puzzled look on their faces that they were also confused.

“You see, your Honour,” said the lawyer, “Corporal Taggart, the RCMP officer who purchased the drug from my client —” The lawyer paused to point at Jack who returned the judge’s gaze. The lawyer continued, “– did not tell my client that he was an undercover operative prior to the sale. As a result, my client has been left emotionally scarred and has a strong distrust for people, leaving him unable to obtain employment.”

Jack did his best to suppress a chuckle. Being a new lawyer is one thing, but to say something as ridiculous as this … the judge is going to eat him alive.

The judge reflected on what he had been told. His brow furrowed and he glowered at Jack.

Jack’s mouth dropped open in shock. Something is terribly wrong! The judge is looking at me with utter disdain; like I’m a piece of dog shit stuck to his shoe … he can’t be going along with this!

Jack stood in a trance as the judge handed down his sentence. McCall was given four months of house arrest.*

“What does this mean?” a bewildered Jack asked the prosecutor.

“It means McCall will have to be home by nine o’clock at night if he isn’t out working or seeking employment.”

“You’ll appeal?”

The prosecutor shook his head and said, “It wouldn’t do any good.”

Jack stumbled out of the courtroom like a blind man with a lobotomy. He felt like he was in another world. A place without any logic or common sense.

*[As outrageous as it would appear, the circumstances concerning this court case are factual and were personally experienced by the author. Only the names have been changed. Circumstances of a court case involving “Ngoc Bích,” which follow later in the chapter are also based on fact.]

Amanda answered the door at her parents’ place and gratefully accepted several boxes of her personal effects that Jack had brought with him. Her parents were out shopping and after Jack had unloaded the car, she invited him inside for a coffee.

Amanda was wearing bangs down to her eyebrows. She was much thinner than before and her face was pale. It was obvious she wasn’t going outside much.

“How did your court case go today?” she asked.

“He plead guilty,” replied Jack, hoping she would drop the subject. “How are you really doing?”

“Not well. Guess it takes time.” She looked inquisitively at Jack and said, “You once told me that you were in an Intelligence Unit and didn’t go to court.”

“This was an exception. I had originally hoped to gain some information to help solve Father Brown’s murder. My target had connections to The Brotherhood. I’d hoped to turn him into an informant, but after meeting him, decided he was too dangerous to let off. Anyway, I’m sorry that you’re not doing well. Do you want to talk about it?”

“What did he get?”

“Who?”

“The cocaine dealer you were in court for.”

“Nothing, really,” said Jack, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Nothing?”

“Four months’ house arrest. If he’s not seeking employment he is suppose to be home by nine o’clock at night.”

Amanda stared hard at Jack for a moment and asked, “Why do you bother?”

“I don’t know,” replied Jack, hearing his voice crack. “I feel ridiculous. Risked my life for nothing.”

“The Brotherhood were also responsible for having me attacked,” said Amanda. “So you were here working undercover on something that might have helped me.”

“Guess you could put it that way, but at the time, it was to help Homicide find someone they are looking for.”

“You shouldn’t say you risked your life for nothing,” said Amanda. “You risked it for me and people like me.”

“Still doesn’t change the result,” said Jack.

“You said Homicide are looking for someone. Can you tell me anything about it? It sounds like you know who you are looking for?”

“How are you at keeping secrets?”

“You have to ask?” replied Amanda, as small grin flashed across her face. “I’m the one who went behind Mister Bloomquist’s back to try and see justice served.”

“Have you ever heard the nickname ‘Cocktail’?”

“No.”

“We’re trying to identify him. We’ve heard a rumour that he has control over some of The Brotherhood. He is the same person who ordered your assault. If anyone finds out that we are looking for him, he may disappear forever. It is also imperative that my real identity be kept secret from The Brotherhood.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” She stopped talking and stared off into space as her body started rocking back and forth in her chair.

“Tell me about your therapist,” said Jack, gently. “Do you get along well? Sometimes you need to meet a couple of therapists before you find someone you click with.”

“Maybe. She seems nice, but it’s not really helping yet.”

“It’s going to take time.”

“I know. My therapist told me. Years. She warned that going to trial could upset things further. Reliving the memories could cause any progress to backslide completely.”

“Sometimes you have to take one day at a time. If you need someone to talk to, I’m only a phone call away. The trial could be a long way off. Time will make you stronger. Another friend of mine was beaten and sexually assaulted. She is testifying today. A couple of years ago she felt like you, but today is looking forward to seeing her attackers held accountable.”

Tears came to Amanda’s eyes and she blurted out, “I’m not that strong.” She paused to take a couple of breaths and to regain her composure before continuing. “Even if Cocktail is identified, I’ve decided I’m not going to testify. Against him, or the three who did this to me,” she added, brushing her bangs to one side to reveal the ugly red scars across her forehead.

“Are you afraid they’ll come after you again?” asked Jack.

“No. I’m too angry and depressed to worry about that. I just don’t see testifying as doing any good. It would just depress me further. I know you think I’m a terrible person. I should worry about who they’ll attack next … but I’m not up to it.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” replied Jack, “but knowing the judges, if you refuse to testify, there is a good chance they would put you in jail for contempt of court.”

“They would put me in jail?” Amanda gave a shrill-sounding laugh.

“They take it as a personal affront if you disobey a subpoena.”

“A personal affront?” Amanda started crying and Jack sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Then I don’t want you to find him,” sobbed Amanda. “Same for the three who attacked me … promise you’ll find some way to drop their charges if they don’t plead guilty.”

Jack briefly closed his own eyes to block the tears. “Charges have already been laid against the three,” he said. “I’m sorry, it is out of my hands, but under the circumstances, I doubt that any defence lawyer would want to chance you taking the stand. They will likely plead guilty on the pretext of feeling bad for what they have done. I imagine that they will be sentenced to a couple of years in juvenile detention.”

“And Cocktail? He won’t plead guilty. No way. He may have ordered it, but you know damn well he’ll never admit it.”

Jack didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say.

“I bet you wouldn’t convict him regardless,” added Amanda. “Or if you did, maybe he would end up with four months’ house arrest like your cocaine dealer.”

Briefly, Jack wondered about telling Amanda that if Cocktail was convicted of bludgeoning a retired priest to death with a rock, he would likely plead guilty to Amanda’s case and serve a concurrent sentence. What am I thinking? We don’t have any evidence that he committed the murder, either. He’ll likely walk on both charges.

Jack glanced at Amanda’s face. He felt sickened and angry. How can I go on, pretending to represent justice? I really should quit. Why waste the taxpayers’ dollars with this charade?

“You never answered,” noted Amanda. “I’m right, aren’t I? Cocktail will never face justice for what he did to me.”

Jack remained silent for a moment, before gripping Amanda by both shoulders and staring intently into her face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep … so believe me when I say I will find Cocktail and that … justice will be served.”

Jack caught the three o’clock ferry home. It was cold and windy, but he didn’t notice as he stood outside on the upper deck and stared into the waves. His BlackBerry rang and the call display told him that it was Ngoc Bích. He quickly answered and stepped inside where it was quieter.

Ngoc Bích was crying, but managed to blubber out that the court case had gone ahead. The judge, in his summation, said that he could not accept the credibility of Ngoc Bích and the other witness over two respected businessmen. After all, said the judge, both witnesses had been prostitutes. The case was dismissed.

Jack tried unsuccessfully to console her. When he eventually hung up, he went down to his car and wept.