Diamond Run

by Michael Croucher

  “Roy, nice work. How did you get a bead on the car?”

  “We reviewed any parking tags for that night in the village of Stoney Creek. Found this one, among others, parked for more than three hours, you know, the old tires chalked and tagged routine. Ran the registrations, got a hit. We got lucky. This car was registered to Jiffy. No brainer. We threw out the BOLO call. Figured Marco had left it parked a few blocks from a mountain access road that came out near Sue’s place.”

  I got back to the car and gave Ernie the rundown.

  “Roy and Duggan will have every cop in Hamilton on the hunt, and probably bring in some from other departments to help out,” I said.

  “Yeah, be great if they find it. Marco won’t be anywhere near it, but we should have that car pulled apart.”

  We both needed more sleep, and I wanted to check in on Sue. I dropped Ernie at the motel and drove to her place. The coverage on the house was tight as a drum, so I was feeling pretty good about her situation.

  After a couple of hours sleep, I took a quick shower and put on some fresh clothes, then joined Sue for a coffee. I knew she wanted me to stay for a while, and I would have loved that, but I needed to get moving. Ernie and I were going to the Port Authority to grab that guy as soon as he came in for his shift. I was standing to leave when Sue’s phone rang. Danielle Garvey picked it up.

  “Phil, it’s Roy, for you.”

  “Hey, Roy, what’s up?”

  “Ernie asked me to give you a heads-up. We found that car. An underground lot on Park Street in Hamilton. He’s heading over there now to organize the search. I’ll make sure the guy at the Port Administration building is covered until you get there. Ernie shouldn’t be long, said he just wants to brief the troops on what to look for. You have another coffee with Sue and then go to Park Street, pick up Ernie and head over to the Port Administration building. If we haven’t picked that guy up already, you two can take over.”

  “Good stuff, Roy. I’ll leave in about fifteen.”

  Chapter 49

  Ernie Smyth had never spent much time in Hamilton, but over the last week or two, he’d learned a bit about the layout of the downtown area. He had no trouble finding Park Street. It was well-treed, with rows of apartment buildings along both sides.

  As soon as he turned onto Park Street, he saw two patrol cars and a police motorcycle in front of the entrance to an underground garage. He parked in front of a well-kept high rise, one of the nicer buildings on the street. Tony Gratton and his partner stood at the top of the entrance ramp. talking to the Hamilton motorcycle cop who’d located the car, getting an update and making sure the area was secured. Ernie was told that several uniforms from Hamilton were in the underground parking lot, preserving the vehicle and the immediate area as a crime scene.

  As part of the search team, the motorcycle cop had been detailed to check parking lots, above and below ground in the city centre. With just an hour left in his shift, he’d received a radio call to check out this garage. The radio call was the result of a phoned-in tip. He found the wanted car.

  Tony’s partner stayed with the motorcycle cop, getting more details and arranging for the cop to prepare his statement for the file.

  Tony and Ernie walked into the underground garage.

  The car was parked askew, nose in, near a wall on the second level below the street. There were only three other cars in the same row, those three looked like they hadn’t been moved recently.

  The youngest of the uniforms was standing near the car. He approached Ernie.

  “Do you guys need me to stick around and help with the search, Sergeant?”

  “Actually, that would help, lad, providing you don’t mind a few court appearances if it goes that way.”

  “I’ll take all the court time I can get. Hopefully some of it would be when I’m off shift or on a day off. You know the deal, two kids and a mortgage.” He nodded towards another cop who was walking towards them. “I talked to my partner, he’s in as well. The dispatcher knows this is a high-profile case. He won’t be busting our asses to take calls.”

  Ernie addressed both of them. “Good, so listen up. We normally would leave the entire search for Forensics, but we’re looking for anything that will give us a hint about where this asshole is heading. Might not be much there to help us, but you never know.”

  Ernie gave them each a pair of search gloves. “We want the glove box, the floor, door compartments, and seats visually searched for papers or notes, and anything that you think is relevant. Have a look in the trunk as well. Do not sit in the car or put your feet in, this is a lean-in search only. Forensics will be giving this vehicle the full treatment after it’s towed in. If you see something important. Let Tony here, or his partner know asap. They’ll be hanging around for a bit. Whatever you see make notes, and for whatever you touch make detailed notes. Got it?”

  “No problem, Sergeant. We’re on it.” The two cops approached the car.

  Ernie and Gratton began checking the nearby pavement, and under other vehicles.

  Later, Ernie wouldn’t remember which cop went to the driver’s door and which one went to the passenger side. He wouldn’t remember what happened to Tony Gratton, and he wouldn’t remember the wail of incoming sirens, or the sound of heavy boots running to their aid. In fact, he wouldn’t remember anything after he was flung in a massive blast of flames and debris against another car.

  The two uniform cops were blown apart in the explosion. Ernie and Gratton lay motionless on the garage floor.

  Chapter 50

  I was parked next to a Hamilton patrol car. The Hamilton police band transmission level jumped to frantic as I started to pull away from Sue’s house. I stopped and listened. There were calls of officers down, an explosion on Park Street, and demands for ambulances.

  In every police department when officers are in trouble, there is an underlying sense of gravity that is palpable. It’s business as always, but with a keener awareness, and a focused need to respond to the situation. Above all, there is a hunger for information: what’s going on? Who’s involved? What are we up against? What is needed at the scene? Which units are attending? Sometimes the information is sketchy, and those details slow to emerge.

  The cop who had been standing next to the cruiser looked like he was about to jump in and respond. I told him to stay on point at Sue’s, and to tell everybody else on the detail to stay, and be on their toes. Marco was making another move. I listened to the cop’s radio for a few more minutes.

  It quickly became apparent that something had gone terribly wrong on Park Street, and that there were a number of casualties. Few details were being made available. After the initial flurry of calls, there was a reduction in transmissions over the police band, priority being given to the Park Street occurrence. I called Danielle Garvey on my handset and told her put everyone on high alert. I drove like a maniac until I knew I was in range of Park Street, then started calling for Ernie on the handset.

  I got an immediate response. Not from Ernie. From Jack Duggan. “Phil, what’s your 10-20?”

  I gave it to him and he responded in code. “Stay on the gki. Park at the intersection of nhu. There’s a hut about four doors down, on the rabbit side of gki. Go in, get yourself something to eat and a coffee. Wait there for me.”

  On this project, gki was code for King Street, nhu, for Hughson, and hut for restaurant. “Jack, are you nuts? I want to know the status, never mind a damned meal.”

  “I’m on scene now, getting an update, Phil. I don’t want you here, you’ll get bogged down. We’ve got information we need to move on. You and I will be jumping all day, but I’ve got to see you first.”

  Duggan was being vague. If he had hot information, he wouldn’t share it over the handset. That’s fine, but I knew from his tone there was something heavy he had to tell me.

  I found the restaurant. It was a few doors from Hughson on King. I sat at the counter and ordered a coffee. I was too wound up to eat but asked for a
Spanish Omelet. I downed the coffee, ordered another, and picked at the omelet.

  Jack walked in twenty minutes later. One look at his face, and I knew it was bad. He sat next to me and got right to the point.

  “Ernie and Tony Gratton were hurt in that explosion. Two Hamilton coppers were killed. That car was fucking booby trapped.”

  “You could have given me a damned clue on the handset. I’ve been sitting here on my butt while that bastard, Ranez, is laughing his ass off.”

  “The good news is that Ernie and Gratton are going to make it. Gratton has some nasty burns and a concussion. Ernie’s injuries are more severe. He was concussed as well, but he’s also got a busted leg and a spinal injury. The doctors have ordered more x-rays and a bunch of tests. He might be laid up for a month or two. I hope it’s no more. They’re both conscious now and talking.”

  I was going to lose it. Not at Duggan, at Marco. My eardrums pounded. My eyes burned, and started to fill up. Christ this was becoming a habit.

  Get it off your chest, I thought. Then suck it up, and get to work.

  Jack saw what was coming. I slammed my fist down on the counter so hard that most of my coffee splashed out of the cup.

  “Shit, Jack,” I yelled. “I want that son of a bitch... I want him dead.”

  The counter waitress who was about ten feet away jumped and let out a little screech. She ran into the kitchen. The proprietor came out carrying a towel to wipe up the slop. He had the look of a guy who’d seen this type of display a thousand times before.

  “What’s the problem here, boys?”

  Duggan flashed his badge. “I was just bringing my friend up to date about what happened on Park Street. His partner was hurt.”

  The man continued wiping up the coffee. “I figured you guys were cops.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I heard about that explosion on the radio. An awful thing. Sorry boys.” He refilled my cup and poured one for Duggan. He looked at Jack. “Can I make you up a sandwich? It’s on the house. So is his.”

  “Not for me, but thanks very much. We’ll finish our coffees and be on our way,” said Jack. I felt his hand on my shoulder. A light squeeze.

  “Christ, Jack, this is awful. Ernie and Gratton badly hurt, and those poor guys from Hamilton.”

  Duggan nodded. I noticed his hand move towards his chest. I wasn’t watching that closely, but I think he crossed himself. I drained my cup and stood up. I needed to move. “What was the other information you mentioned?”

  “Like I said, you and I will be moving all day. But I really wanted to break this to you myself.”

  “Thanks, Jack.”

  “Okay, here’s what’s happening. Before all this went down, Ernie had asked for a team to fill in and pick up the guy at the Port Administration Building. Roy Jacobs went up there with one of his guys. They saw the guy on his way into the building and grabbed him before he got to the elevator. Got him right out of the building before anyone knew he’d arrived. Cuts the odds of a quick lawyering up. A great decision, and then he made another one. This guy Jacobs is solid, Phil.”

  “What was the other decision?”

  “He didn’t tell anyone but me, and he didn’t take the asshole anywhere near a police station. He figured we might want to do this a little outside the box. Nice call, right?”

  “Couldn’t have made a better one. What next?”

  “You know Stan Logan, the guy on loan from Metro Homicide?”

  “Know him well. What about him?”

  “Well you know he spent three years at Hold-Up before he went to Homicide. Just about every collar those guys make involves some creative interviewing. We might need some of that on this case. Fast”

  “Ah-men,” I said.

  “If the guys a lightweight and does a quick turn, we’ll do the interview. But if he needs some shoving, it won’t be us. Logan and Jacobs will do the interview. Roy has worked with our Hold-up guys before, and with the Hamilton squad. He knows the drill.

  “Logan has already hooked up with Jacobs. They have the guy in their custody. They’ll see how he responds. Hamilton PD has a huge stake in this now, and Roy said he’d like to be involved in the initial chat. If the guy needs some shaking up before we see him, you and I’ll just leave for a while.”

  “Hopefully it’s a quick turn,” I said. “Where are they?”

  “An old factory up in the east end. It closed down about seven months ago. They’re parked behind the building.”

  Chapter 51

  Stan Logan had taken a Ford Fairlane from the CFSEU car pool. It had family sedan written all over it. Roy Jacobs was in the passenger side at the front. The guy from the Port Administration Building sat bug-eyed in the backseat. They were parked alongside an overgrown hedge that bordered the factory driveway. Logan got out and approached us.

  I was riding shotgun in Jack’s car. Logan climbed into our backseat. “You may not need us to get him blabbing. He’s practically crapping his pants.”

  Duggan turned in the driver’s seat. “What’s the scoop on him, Stan?”

  “Name is Miguel DeSousa, he’s the local booking agent for a shipping company based in Genoa, Italy. Looks after Great Lakes and some international crew placements, occasional passenger bookings, and any shipping inquiries. He’s a one-man office at the Port Admin place.”

  “Does he know what we’re after?” I asked.

  “Not officially, but from the way he’s squirming... he could have an idea. Keeps asking if he needs to call his lawyer.”

  “Okay, bring him over to our car. Watch for anyone coming onto the lot.”

  Logan and Jacobs walked DeSousa over to us. He looked like a jockey between two linebackers. They deposited him in the backseat, slammed the door, and went back to the Fairlane.

  Duggan left the driver’s seat and got in beside DeSousa, looking at him, sizing him up. I could see beads of sweat forming on DeSousa’s forehead.

  “All right, Miguel,” said Duggan. “Have you figured out who we need to know about?”

  “No. I can’t figure anything out. What do you men want from me?”

  My arm was along the backrest. I turned to him. “Have you been listening to the radio today, DeSousa?”

  “Yeah, I listen a bit.”

  “You hear about the cops who got blown up on Park Street?”

  He nodded and swallowed, but said nothing.

  “Well, here it is, man. We know that a few days ago, a guy met you outside your office. He gave you something, then you got something out of your car and gave it to him. We need to know all about that deal.”

  His eyes shifted from my face to the floor.

  “That guy is the same son of a bitch who set the bomb that killed two policemen and seriously injured others. That’s pretty heavy shit, Miguel.”

  “I know nothing about any bombs.”

  Duggan leaned into his face. “Are you wondering why you weren’t taken straight to a police station, DeSousa?”

  We knew that this had freaked him out, and we were going to use it to our advantage. Duggan lowered his voice. “We wanted to give you a chance to be a concerned citizen, Miguel; a citizen who had a business contact that made him suspicious and worried. A citizen who’d called the police because he thought he may have a lead for them about this horrible bombing.”

  We let him think on that for a minute.

  “Here’s the other side of the coin,” said Duggan. “That meeting you had at the Port Administration parking lot with that guy had something to do with what he had planned for after the bombing. We need to know what that is. Fast.

  “If we have to drag it out of you, those two guys that picked you up, well...they’re good at getting to the truth when we need it in a hurry. We need the truth. Now.”

  DeSousa wrung his hands, kept looking out the window.

  After a minute or so, I turned back to him, my fingernails biting into the seat back. “You’d better chose which way you want this to go. The hard way is with those two guys, and you
being charged with accessory after the fact on two counts of murder. Who knows what other charges will be added? We could send you away for twenty years

  “Or, the easy way. You act like that concerned citizen. Help us get this man put away. If that’s your choice, you deal with us, and tell us what you know. If it’s the other way, you deal with the guys in the other car. You choose, Miguel.

  “Either way we get the truth. One way you’re a hero, the other way, you share stinky cells for twenty years with guys who think you look pretty.”

  He sobbed. His hands went to his forehead, shaking.

  “I’ll tell you what I know...but I’m scared. I did some other things that could get me in a lot of trouble.”

  “We know that, Miguel. You be honest with us and tell us what your part was That way you won’t go to jail, or lose your job.”

  DeSousa looked at Duggan for confirmation.

  Duggan nodded. “That’s the deal, Miguel”

  “Okay...I’ll talk to you. Not the other policemen.”

  Chapter 52

  We didn’t complete the interview at a police station; that might have clammed DeSousa up. We decided on a less intimidating environment. Logan and Jacobs would be present though, and in-view, as a reminder to DeSousa that if his cooperation wavered, they would take over the interview. We knew an old family restaurant that was quiet, it was a short drive away. During the ride, I reminded him that he wasn’t under arrest, but detained for questioning. He’d received the standard caution earlier.

  We got our coffees first. If things progressed well, we might order something light to eat. We took a booth in the back corner. I sat on one side of the booth next to DeSousa, blocking his way out. Duggan sat directly across from him. Logan and Jacobs had followed us to the restaurant. They sat in a booth near the front, in a spot where DeSousa couldn’t miss seeing them.