The Grey Zone

by Easton, Don

  “Yes, she told me Connie is a friend of hers and she asked her about us.”

  “Can’t blame her, although I’m surprised Connie didn’t talk her out of it.”

  “I get the feeling that Munday is going places. I don’t think she’d let Connie slow her down.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Now if our second constable has undercover experience, too, we’ll be a force to be reckoned with,” Laura said lightheartedly.

  Jack grinned back. “If the new people are anything like us, what could possibly go wrong?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Over the next few weeks Jack and Laura did a great deal of surveillance on the local Satans Wrath prospects.

  Late afternoon on the third Monday in June, they discovered exactly how eager Alicia was to start work. When she found out over the phone that Laura and Jack were working afternoon shifts, she asked if she could work with them in the evenings, as her last seven shifts in MCU were all day shifts. Laura agreed, explaining that they’d likely be doing surveillance on some bikers.

  At 6:00 p.m. Jack and Laura welcomed Alicia to their office. Jack was glad to see that she’d changed out of dress clothes into jeans and a T-shirt.

  There was little room in the office to start with, but there was even less now that they’d brought in an additional desk and chair. They placed Alicia’s desk along the sides of Jack and Laura’s butted-up desks so that the three of them could easily talk and pass correspondence back and forth.

  “Kind of cramped,” Alicia noted, squeezing past a filing cabinet to sit down.

  “We like to think of it as cozy,” Laura said.

  Alicia checked out her desk drawers before looking up. “So, what are we up to?”

  “Tonight we’re working on him,” Jack said, sliding a surveillance photograph across his desk onto hers. “His name is Buster Linquist, and he’s a prospect for Satans Wrath. His address is on the back of the photo.”

  Alicia flipped it over. “Out in Surrey,” she noted. “Not all that far from MCU.”

  “Are you familiar with biker terminology?” Laura asked.

  “A little. A prospect is like a probationary member, sometimes called a striker. Usually stuck doing the dirty work.”

  “You’ve got it,” Jack replied. “You can identify them by the fact that they wear only the bottom portion of the club insignia on their backs. I’d like to see what Buster’s up to. The guy I’m really after, though, is him.”

  Alicia accepted the next photograph Jack handed her.

  “His name is Buck Zabat. He received his full patch in the club a year and a half ago and was promptly made a member of their hit squad. I don’t think the hit squad is active at the moment, but he’s someone I want to nail real bad.”

  “Because he’s a member of their hit squad?”

  “No, because he murdered an informant of mine — his father.”

  “His father!” Alicia’s jaw slackened as she stared at the photo again.

  “His father, Damien Zabat, was the national president of the club. He retired the same day Buck was made a full member,” Jack said gravely. “Five days later Buck found out that Damien was my informant and put a bullet through his brain.”

  “How’d Buck find out?” Alicia asked.

  Jack glanced at Laura. “Okay, before I tell you that, let me explain that coming into our unit means you’re receiving a higher security clearance. Whether you know it or not, your background has recently been rescreened.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Alicia responded. “I thought I was already top secret.”

  “You were TS,” Jack said. “But there’s a level above that: SA.”

  “Special access,” Laura explained.

  “That’s what allows you to access that bigger picture you’ve heard about,” Jack said. “It also means that whatever you learn cannot leave this office without my consent. You’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

  “Like your friend Connie, for example,” Laura said.

  “Or any of the inspectors over there,” added Jack.

  “Even an inspector won’t have my clearance?” Alicia looked amused.

  “Most commissioned officers aren’t cleared for what you’re about to see. Certain things are strictly on a need-to-know basis, and for most people, there’s no reason for them to know.”

  Alicia looked at them in turn. “Holy shit, what do you do in here?”

  “Part of our goal is to turn high-level criminals into informants,” Jack replied. “One good informant in an organization is worth more than fifty cops on the outside peering in, not knowing what’s going on.”

  “So how do you go about it? Offer them money?”

  “We would if that worked, but a lot of the time they make more money from criminal enterprise than we could hope to offer.”

  “So you need to catch them doing something and then turn them,” Alicia said.

  “Generally that’s how it works,” Jack replied.

  “Sounds relatively simple.”

  “Not as simple as you’d think,” said Laura. “Jack has an expression: you don’t catch sewer rats with church mice. Sometimes we have informants actively committing serious crimes, such as murder, yet we let them go because we have a greater objective.”

  “A criminal informant who belongs to an organization can’t suddenly go straight, because everyone would clue in that they’re working for the police,” Jack added. “They have to continue their criminal activities.”

  Alicia was wide-eyed. “You really let them get away with murder?”

  “Sometimes,” Laura replied. “We make it clear to them that we won’t bust them or burn them on things they tell us about, but at the same time, they know they’re not immune from being caught by someone else.”

  “It’s hard to grasp what could be more serious than murder,” Alicia said.

  “How about letting someone off for one murder in order to arrest someone who has committed multiple murders? Or allowing someone who murdered a drug trafficker to walk in exchange for someone who murdered an innocent person during a robbery?” Jack asked. “To me, not all murders are the same.”

  Alicia seemed to be thinking about it.

  “So you see, it may not be as simple as you imagine,” Laura said. “You have to consider the consequences of your actions carefully along with whatever guidance you provide your informants. Sometimes we’re making life-and-death decisions.”

  “Which brings me back to your question about Buck Zabat and how he found out his father was our informant,” Jack said.

  “Yes, how? I’d also like to know what you used to turn the national president of Satans Wrath to be your informant.”

  “I’ll show you,” Jack said, unlocking a filing cabinet. He retrieved a USB flash drive, stuck it in his laptop, and opened the video that was stored on it. The shock on Alicia’s face was obvious as she watched. The video showed Buck Zabat beating a man to death.

  “Who gave you this?” she asked.

  “We were outside the victim’s window,” Laura said. “Jack recorded the video.”

  “You took it yourselves? You didn’t stop it?” Alicia looked appalled.

  “The victim was the leader of a gang of street thugs,” Jack replied. “We thought he was only going to get a beating, which I think is what Buck intended. The death was unexpected.”

  “Meaning that if he was convicted, he’d receive a lighter sentence,” Laura said.

  “If he was convicted,” Alicia repeated slowly, thinking it. “Defence would go over your grounds for being there. Maybe have the video ruled inadmissible.”

  “Possibly. We believed that Satans Wrath was opening up a new cocaine distribution network into Europe. That was what we were after.”

  “Why didn’t you turn Buck into the informant?”

  “I knew he was too brainwashed to turn,” Jack explained. “And he may not even have known about the European venture, as it would have been need-to-know at th
at point. So instead, we took the video to his father and mother.”

  “Damien and Vicki,” Laura said.

  “To make a long story short, Damien refused to help and said his son could go to jail. That riled up Vicki. She came to us later and gave up Damien’s bank accounts, where he’d been laundering money. We busted him, but also made it look like Vicki was going to jail so that Damien wouldn’t suspect her. That’s when he agreed to help us in exchange for Vicki and Buck’s freedom.”

  “We managed to arrange for the French authorities to seize a metric tonne of cocaine and arrest several fullpatch members,” Laura stated.

  “The thing is, Vicki was still furious with Damien,” Jack continued. “She blamed him for Buck getting into the club and wanted him out, so she tipped off the other bikers that Damien was responsible for our seizing the dope in France.”

  “Holy smokes,” Alicia blurted. “She burned her own husband, who only informed to save her and their son.”

  “Yes,” Jack said, making a concerted effort to keep his anger from showing. “Buck was enraged that his father had talked, and under the direction of the new national president, shot Damien in the head. Then Buck and his mother had a blowout because he wouldn’t leave the club. The bikers feared Vicki would tell all to the police, so they had Buck lure her out to a prospect’s house. Once there, she was murdered by two guys from their hit squad. They used plastic wrap to suffocate her.”

  Alicia stared at the two of them for a moment, apparently trying to collect her thoughts. “Did you tell I-HIT about all this?” she asked.

  “I showed Connie the video,” Jack said, “but she was told by the brass that she couldn’t use it or tell anyone. We’d made a promise to Damien that his son and his wife would go free in exchange for the cocaine. Knowing Damien, I think that — despite the fact that his own son murdered him — he’d still have wanted us to honour that agreement.”

  “Wow,” Alicia said quietly.

  “So, how do you feel about working with us?” Laura asked.

  Alicia gave what looked like a forced smile. “I feel like I need to catch my breath.”

  “I understand,” Laura said. “I felt the same way when I first came in.”

  “Let’s save Buster Linquist for tomorrow night,” Jack said. “Laura and I have some administrative work to catch up on. If you feel up to it, I’d suggest you start by reading through past reports to get a feel for what goes on.”

  “I think I will need a history lesson,” Alicia agreed.

  Two hours drifted by before Alicia looked up from a pile of reports. “Do these guys do any kidnappings?”

  “Which guys?” Jack asked. “The bikers, Vietnamese, Russians, Chinese, Eastern Europeans, Irish —?”

  “I’m still reading about the bikers. I haven’t gotten to any of those other groups yet.”

  “As far as bikers go, Satans Wrath is game for any criminal activity where money is concerned, but to my knowledge, any kidnappings they’ve done thus far relate to the dope trade and usually involve the wife or girlfriend of a dealer who’s delinquent.”

  “Either pay up or the woman is forced into prostitution,” Laura stated.

  “Sometimes they’ll grab other dealers and take them for a ride to convince them to buy their supply through Satans Wrath. Technically it’s kidnapping, but I view it more as having a conversation.”

  “But they haven’t ever taken a kid from an innocent family for ransom?” Alicia asked.

  “Not that we know of,” said Jack. “Why?”

  “We had a kidnapping of a kid two years ago. I’m sure the parents were straight and were targeted because they’re wealthy.” Alicia grimaced. “Still unsolved.”

  “Too bad,” Jack replied. “Sorry, I don’t know of anyone specific that I could suggest to you. Biker or otherwise.”

  Alicia nodded and gestured to the reports. “There’re lots of names in these files.”

  “On the first page we list all the names contained within the report, along with date of birth and indication of criminal record, if they have one,” Laura said. “Sometimes the information is passed on to units such as Drug Section for whatever action they deem appropriate.”

  “I see that. But a lot of information, especially involving informants, isn’t passed on.”

  “We have our own Intelligence database, but you’re right,” Jack said. “The protection of informants is crucial to what we do. There are a lot of cases we can’t risk telling others about because it would jeopardize the informant.”

  “And a lot of the names don’t have criminal records … meaning, they aren’t known to regular police officers,” Alicia observed. “They’re simply noted as associates.”

  “Not having a criminal record makes them better suited to run under the radar when running drugs or doing something else to benefit the club,” Jack said.

  “Such as getting a job that gives them access to classified information,” Laura added. “Motor vehicle branch, police station, city hall, or a company that keeps people’s addresses on file, like a cable, phone, or power company. Knowing these associates’ connections to certain criminals makes it easier for us to identify leaks.”

  “Which makes it particularly irritating if we learn about someone working in one of those areas, but can’t do anything about it because it’d burn the informant,” Jack said.

  Alicia opened her mouth as if to say something, then changed her mind and went back to reading.

  When their shift was coming to a close, Jack said, “Tomorrow night we’ll do surveillance on Buster Linquist. If you’d like to join us, you could take one of our cars now and save having to drive back here tomorrow to get it. We could meet you around Linquist’s place say, six p.m.?”

  “That’d be great. Thank you.”

  “Good, put the reports back, but take Linquist’s photo with you. I’ll give you the keys to a blue Chevy Cruze hatchback. Tomorrow night Laura will be in a silver Dodge Ram pickup and I’ll be in a black SUV Nissan Pathfinder.”

  “So what do you think?” Laura asked on the way out. “Still looking forward to coming here?”

  “I am,” Alicia said confidently. “You’ve opened up a whole new world for me. I think it’s all fascinating … and exciting.”

  “Yeah, it gets real exciting when someone’s shooting at you,” Laura said flatly. Alicia grinned. “I’m serious,” Laura continued, seemingly irritated by Alicia’s response. “Ask Jack why he’s limping.”

  “I hurt myself zip-lining,” Jack said. “Ignore Laura. She needs to work on her sense of humour.”

  “He crash-landed after using his belt to zip-line down a guy wire from a lookout tower because some guy opened up on him with an AR-15,” Laura retorted. “Gee, I didn’t realize that was supposed to be funny.”

  Jack saw the blood drain from Alicia’s face. It’s okay, kid. I’ll look after you.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was 6:00 p.m. Tuesday night when Jack, followed by Laura, drove past Linquist’s house. Halfway down the block, Jack saw Alicia sitting in the blue Chevy hatchback and groaned as he grabbed his phone and dialed. “Get the hell out of there!” He caught her startled look through the window as he drove past. “Follow me, we need to talk.”

  Moments later, they were all parking at a convenience store. Laura got in the back of Jack’s SUV, gesturing for Alicia to get in the front.

  “What’s going on?” Alicia looked at Jack. “You’re angry. What did I do?”

  Jack sighed. “I’m not angry at you. I’m ticked off at myself. I should’ve known you wouldn’t know how to do surveillance.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Alicia glanced down at her clothes. “I know how to fit in. I’m a trained undercover operator. I completed the course last month.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t teach you how to do surveillance. You were far too obvious back there.”

  “No way I look like a cop! On the course in Halifax I made more dope buys than anyone —
”

  Jack put up his hand for her to stop. “No, you don’t look like a cop. Far from it — but that doesn’t matter to these guys. They’ve been around long enough not to go by anyone’s appearance. Telling me you know surveillance because you completed the undercover course is like saying you took a first-aid course so you’re qualified to do surgery. There’s a lot to learn, especially when it comes to the professional criminals we work on. Sitting in a car halfway down the block makes you stand out like a sore thumb. The least you could’ve done was slide over to the passenger seat to make it look like you were waiting for someone.”

  Alicia looked crestfallen. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “How long were you there before we arrived?”

  “Uh, about an hour. Maybe a bit more.”

  “Sitting that long in the passenger seat wouldn’t have worked, regardless.” He caught Laura’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Linquist will be heated up. We better leave him alone for a couple of weeks.”

  “For sure,” Laura agreed.

  Alicia frowned.

  “It’s okay,” Jack assured her. “Linquist isn’t an important target. He may even be clean at the moment. There’s lots of others I’d like to take a look at before deciding who to really go after.”

  “You seem pretty certain that I was seen.”

  “Not a hundred percent, but he’s been well schooled to watch for police surveillance. Everyone in Satans Wrath is heat conscious. If he did see you, he’ll be extra paranoid. It’s not worth the chance he’ll burn Laura’s or my vehicle, too. It’s better for us to select another target. Don’t worry, we have lots to choose from.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alicia said, upset.

  “You’ll learn,” Jack said, trying to sound upbeat.

  “We all had to,” Laura added.

  “To start with, you’re going to have to change your way of thinking,” Jack said. “You’re coming from a reactive section, where the crime has already happened. I don’t imagine you did much surveillance.”

  “I’ve done some.”

  “Laura and I do a lot. You need to look at things from a criminal’s point of view. Imagine you’re a criminal and you’re worried about being busted. Someone sitting in a car where they can see your house will make you suspicious. Same thing if a van starts parking on the street. Imagine that you take a walk around the neighbourhood or send out one of your kids to do it. You see someone in a car and glance in and see ballpoint pens stuck in the sun visor or takeout food containers on the back seat. What would you think?”