The Grey Zone

by Easton, Don

  “It’s okay. I understand,” she said softly. “I’m a registered nurse.”

  “We’d like to go to the hospital immediately,” Mason stated, “but maybe it would be best to rent a car here at the airport. Then I can drop it off when I fly back.”

  “I’m lending you mine,” Jack replied. “I can use a company car.”

  “No, you don’t need to —”

  “It’s not a problem. My wife has a car, as well. Plus a corporal on my unit lives close to me. She’ll meet us at the hospital to pick me up. No worries. Keep it for as long as you need. It’s got GPS, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting around.”

  Forty minutes later, they arrived at the Royal Columbian Hospital, where Jack introduced Laura to Mason and Sally. He left Mason with the keys, then returned with Laura to the office.

  His first call was to Hawkins to let him know that Sally had arrived.

  “I’ve got an update for you, too,” Hawkins said. “The dive team recovered a stolen .32 calibre Beretta from the river. We’ll need ballistics to confirm, but I’m betting it matches up with the slug in Leo Ratcliffe’s head.”

  “Sounds like they brought it along as backup, but preferred not to use it because they knew we’d be close by. Afterward, they tossed it and whatever they used on Greg into the river.”

  “That’s my guess. The dive team is still searching.”

  “A .32 Beretta,” Jack mused. “I bought one of those for my wife years ago. Fits nicely into her purse should the occasion arise for her to carry it.”

  “Interesting you say that. We found a witness who lives across the back alley from Leo Ratcliffe. She says she saw a woman enter Leo’s yard through the gate while a man waited by the fence. The woman was gone only a minute, then she returned and they both left.”

  “Could she identify them?”

  “Even if she could, we couldn’t use her in court. She’s senile and not sure if it happened yesterday or perhaps last week. She has no idea what they were wearing. All she remembers is that the woman was good-looking and had either black or maybe blond hair.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Wish I were.” Hawkins paused. “I’d wondered if the killer walked in through an unlocked door, or if it was someone Leo knew. Maybe neither. He might’ve simply opened the door for a pretty woman.”

  “Any thoughts on how you’ll proceed?” Jack asked.

  “We’ll keep digging and knocking on doors to look for witnesses. It’ll also take time for Forensics to do their thing.”

  “I’ll be surprised if any prints or DNA are found,” Jack replied. “These people know what they’re doing.”

  “I know. Both Derek and Peter’s cellphones have already been disconnected. It’s too bad. We never knew what was being said as the calls were encrypted, but at least we could record the numbers being called. Sometimes that gave us locations.”

  “Send me a list of every person and telephone number you can connect to these guys, and I’ll see what we can do to find the leak.”

  “Will do. As far as the encrypted calls go, they’ve been passed on to the techies, but I’m fairly certain it won’t help. I had another case recently with encrypted calls. Our people couldn’t crack the code and sent it on to some other government agency that does cryptologic work. But apparently the code can’t be deciphered.”

  “That’d be the Communications Security Establishment. The CSE is our national cryptologic agency headquartered in Ottawa.” Jack paused. “If they could even come up with a location where the calls were made from, it would help.”

  “Like your building or ours,” Hawkins said gravely. “It’ll be nice to talk to Greg when he comes out of the coma. Unfortunately, the doctors can’t say when that’ll be.”

  “My priority will be finding out how they got burned,” Jack said firmly. “Send me everything you have.”

  “Believe me, finding the leak would really make my day.”

  Finding the leak … and plugging it would make my day.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  On Sunday evening Jack received a call from Mason Stone thanking him for the use of his car and telling him Mason was flying back to Toronto late the following afternoon. Sally was staying with Greg’s mother, but she didn’t need the car.

  “Despite the coma, Sally likes to sit and talk to him.”

  “Can he hear her?” Jack asked.

  “The jury is still out on that.”

  “How’s his mom handling it?”

  “As you’d expect. A lot of tears. She lost her husband less than four months ago.” Mason then said that the doctors might be bringing Greg out of his induced coma in a few weeks. “They’ve already warned us there’ll be considerable cognitive dysfunction,” he added glumly, “but we won’t really know to what extent until then.”

  “I’m sorry. If Sally needs anything, you make sure she calls me.”

  “I’d also like a complete rundown on the file before I leave. Everyone on the section will be asking me about it when I get back. Could we meet for lunch tomorrow before I go?”

  “You got it.”

  * * *

  Late Monday morning Jack had Laura drive him to the hospital while Alicia stayed in the office trying to sort the names of people gathered through Powers’s phone tolls into business contacts and friends. Friends who might work in sensitive areas.

  “You sure you don’t want to join us for lunch?” Jack asked, as Laura stopped near the main entrance to the hospital.

  “No, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment right after lunch. Her office is almost an hour away and I don’t want to be late.”

  “You seem a little tense,” Jack noted. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Routine stuff. See you back at the office later.”

  Bullshit, routine stuff. He eyed her carefully. “That night we went for drinks with Alicia after Barry Short was attacked, you drank cranberry sodas. At the time I thought maybe you were too depressed for alcohol.”

  Laura stared at him, then shook her head. “Damn you,” she said, annoyed. “Yes, I’m way overdue and a home test indicates I am, but there’s also such a thing as a false positive. I want you to keep it to yourself. A woman should be able to tell her husband first before he hears it through the grapevine.”

  Jack couldn’t help but smile. “I know you guys have been trying for years. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

  “I’m approaching the age where it could be menopause.” She glared at Jack. “If you tell anyone that, so help me, I will shoot you!”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Jack and Mason sat down on the patio at the Paddlewheeler Pub. It had been Mason’s choice to go to the place where Greg had had lunch shortly before he’d been attacked.

  They each ordered a Kokanee, then Mason ordered the breaded calamari and Jack the hot chicken wings.

  Connie Crane called before the food arrived.

  “Where are you?” she demanded.

  “The Paddlewheeler Pub in New Westminster, having lunch with a narc from Toronto. Why?”

  “I can be there in twenty minutes. Will you wait for me? I’ll explain then.”

  Jack agreed and then told Mason that Connie was on I-HIT and the lead investigator in Leo Ratcliffe’s murder.

  “You don’t know why she wants to see you?” Mason asked. “She didn’t give you any hint as to what it’s about?”

  Jack frowned. “Connie and I have a long history together. She’s one of the sharpest homicide investigators I know.” He glanced at Mason. “I suspect she wants to be able to read my body language when she tells me whatever it is she wants to tell me.”

  Mason looked bemused. “I take it she isn’t the trusting type?”

  “Not with me, for some reason.”

  “Interesting. Why do you suppose that is?”

  Jack shrugged. “Some people’s personalities don’t always mesh. Forget it. Let me tell you about the investigation and how it st
arted.”

  Mason listened closely as Jack started with his story of having the informant who identified Derek Powers as being involved in the Chung kidnapping.

  “They cut off the kid’s fingers?” Mason interrupted.

  “Yes, we’re dealing with real animals.” He continued up to the murder of Leo Ratcliffe and the senile witness who claimed that a woman had entered Leo’s home from the alley while a man waited.

  “Sounds like the man may’ve been standing six,” Mason noted.

  “Odd that he’d be the lookout. Usually it’s the other way around.”

  “Maybe they thought Leo would be more inclined to open his door for a pretty woman,” Mason suggested.

  “Possibly. There’s one other thing, but according to Hawkins it’s a real long shot. Major Crimes had a wiretap on Derek and Peter’s cellphones, but they were encrypted. The calls were passed on to the techies, but we’re not optimistic that they’ll be deciphered.”

  “It’ll be passed on to the Communications Security Establishment,” Mason noted.

  “Yes, it already has been.”

  “I’ve got a friend who works there. I could make a call and maybe get them to prioritize it.”

  “Think they’d listen to you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Mason gave a lopsided grin. “I think they listen to everybody!”

  Jack smiled in response. He saw Connie arriving and waved to attract her attention.

  “I’ll make it short and sweet,” Connie said after introductions had been made. She paused to order a glass of water from the waitress, then focused her attention on Jack. “Guess who visited me this morning?” Before Jack could respond, she said, “Carol Ratcliffe.”

  “As in Leo Ratcliffe’s sister from Hamilton?” Jack asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Wanting to know when her brother’s body would be released, I presume?”

  “That was part of it. Two guys were with her.”

  “Leo’s brother, Ricky?” Jack asked.

  “No. Carol mentioned a brother, but said he was somewhere in Quebec and she couldn’t get hold of him yet. These were two other guys who wanted to know how my investigation was going … and if we had any suspects. I said I couldn’t comment on the investigation, let alone identify any suspects, for obvious reasons.” Connie paused, looking perturbed. “Then one of them pointed directly in my face and said, ‘It was Satans Wrath, wasn’t it? Just tell us if it was Satans Wrath!’”

  Jack and Mason looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Devils Aces.”

  “No shit. Tell me something I didn’t know,” Connie replied. “I told them I wouldn’t disclose anything about the investigation, then I took a photo of the three of them sitting across from my desk.” She held out her cellphone across the table and Jack and Mason leaned forward for a look. Both men were scowling. One of them, who had a jagged scar across his cheek, was holding up his middle finger. Carol Ratcliffe sat with her arms folded across her chest, also glaring.

  “Did you get their names?” Jack asked.

  “All they gave me was Zip-Head and Fat Boy.”

  “I take it the guy with the scar is Zipper-Head,” Jack said.

  “Abbreviated to Zip-Head, I guess. As you can see, Fat Boy isn’t actually fat. With those muscles, he’s gotta be on steroids,” she said, putting her phone away.

  “A Fat Boy is a type of Harley-Davidson,” Mason noted. “It’s probably the type of bike he rides.”

  “Maybe that explains it.” Connie leaned forward, clasping her hands together on the table as she stared at Jack. “So tell me, did you know that Leo Ratcliffe was going to get whacked? Is this part of that big picture bullshit you’re always winging at me?”

  Jack felt his anger rise. “No, I didn’t know! You’re aware of what happened to Greg Dalton right after, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, and Barry Short before him, but I’m talking about Ratcliffe. Bikers are your domain. Hawkins told me you’re worried that the Devils Aces are opening up a chapter here. I know they’re at war with Satans Wrath. I also know that it was your informant who put Hawkins on to Derek as one of the kidnappers.”

  “Yeah, so?” Jack replied. “Do you really think this big picture I speak of would include what happened to Barry and Greg?”

  “No, I honestly don’t think that about you … but shit happens. What I do know is that I’ve worked on about a dozen cases where bad guys ended up getting killed and you were somehow involved.” She studied Jack’s face. “Christ, it’s taken for granted in our office that if you’re involved, there’s never any court. Everything gets handed off to the coroner. Except not quite everything. Most of those unsolved murders end up in my office. I’ve lost count of how many you’ve been connected with.”

  “I have no idea who killed Ratcliffe,” Jack stated. “Since the Beretta was found in the river near where Greg was attacked, I think it was the same person or persons who did both crimes. Believe me, I want to find out who that is.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know,” Connie said, getting to her feet. She paused and stared at Jack. “Considering what happened to Barry and Greg, I almost wish you do find them. But it wouldn’t be right. Our motto is to defend the law … which is what I intend to do. You might want to keep that in mind.”

  Mason stared after her as she walked away, then gave Jack a curious look.

  “Like I said, Connie and I have a bit of history.”

  * * *

  Jack returned to his office after dropping Mason off at the airport. The intelligence database quickly identified Zip-Head as a prospect for the Devils Aces in the Hamilton chapter and Fat Boy as the sergeant at arms.

  He was viewing their mug shots when Laura returned from her doctor’s appointment. Her smile said it all, and he rose to meet her.

  She wrapped her arms around him as he kissed her on the cheek.

  “Congratulations,” he whispered.

  “I’m two months along,” she whispered back. “Not a word to anyone other than Natasha for at least a month.”

  “Wow, you guys are really close,” Alicia said. “Do you always greet each other like that?”

  “Sometimes,” Laura replied.

  Jack felt giddy as he returned to his desk. He knew Laura had given up hope of ever having a baby. It was a spark of good news that he desperately needed to cheer himself up. I almost feel like I’m the father, he mused, as he answered his ringing phone.

  “Jack, it’s Ned Hawkins. I’m calling to let you know I’ve called off the dive team. Forensics found a chip of wood stuck to one of Greg’s teeth, which they’d collected from the parking lot. The wood was identified as ash, so most likely they used a baseball bat on him.”

  Jack’s giddiness turned to nausea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The following week, Jack was roused from his sleep one morning by his cellphone vibrating on the bedside table.

  “Jack, it’s Mason from Toronto.”

  Jack glanced at the clock — 6:00 a.m. He immediately sat up. “What’s up? Is it Greg?”

  “No … not directly. Did I wake you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, I thought guys your age got up early.”

  My age? Is he joking?

  “I’m joking.”

  You asshole.

  “I thought if I called when you weren’t in an office environment, we could talk freely.” Mason paused. “Although talking freely on the phone is not one of my strong suits.”

  He sounds a lot like me.

  “In this case I’m going to chance it, but I need you to promise that what I tell you stays between the two of us … unless I say otherwise.”

  “Not a problem. I’ve demanded the same of people myself.”

  “Yeah, I sort of figured you had.” Mason paused. “How would you feel about saying you had an informant who identified the person responsible for burning Greg and Barry Short?”

  “Are you serious? I’d feel great — if it were
true.”

  “The information is true beyond any doubt.”

  How the hell did he find out? “If it’s your informant, why don’t you step forward and say so?”

  “It’s not actually an informant, but I do need to protect the source’s identity. Coming from you out in B.C., and seeing as you’re involved in the case, it’d throw people off as to the real origin of the information.”

  “Okay …”

  “The trouble is, the information is so secret that nobody can know it, not even the judiciary, which means it can’t be used to get a wiretap or even a search warrant.”

  His friend in CSE — son of a bitch, they’ve deciphered the calls! “I suspect I know where your information came from.”

  “Yup. They broke the encryption code several months ago, but don’t want anyone to know because it’d tip off the bad guys around the world. They talked about that as the big picture … which made me think of you, because of what Connie said.”

  “Sounds like your friend trusts you quite a lot,” Jack noted.

  “A trust I never want to destroy. I told my friend about the little kid whose fingers were cut off, and also about what had happened to Barry and Greg. I was told that there are even worse things going on and that major investigations into terrorism around the world could be jeopardized if the bad guys find out their phones aren’t safe. Globally they could be looking to stop thousands of murders.”

  “Sooner or later the bad guys will clue in,” Jack noted. “You’re right. Then the world will become more dangerous. Regarding the kidnapping case you’re involved with, at least it’s covered with a legal wiretap order, which I suspect is the only reason I was given the information. However, let me tell you another concern my friend passed on. Once word gets out that government agencies or police forces have access to the technology to decode calls, it’ll raise a red flag for civil liberties groups and probably get the service providers in trouble, simply on speculation of what police in different countries and jurisdictions might be up to.”

  “Undoubtedly.”