The Grey Zone

by Easton, Don

  “Nope,” Fat Boy replied, scrutinizing the photos carefully.

  “He lives in North Vancouver at the moment and works for the Sheriff ’s Services in the courthouse.”

  “He’s a sheriff?” Fat Boy asked in surprise.

  “I think he spends more time smuggling dope in for whoever Satans Wrath wants him to. You sure you don’t recognize him? He might’ve had a beard before. Originally he’s from Mississauga.”

  “That’s only about thirty minutes away,” Fat Boy noted.

  “Look carefully. It’s been ten years, so he might’ve changed a lot.”

  “What makes you think he shot Leo?”

  “Can’t, uh, give you any more information than I already have,” he said, patting the file folder. “That’s confidential. We just wondered if you knew him or if any other Devils Aces were out in B.C.”

  “I don’t recognize him and nobody else from the chapter is out there.”

  The cop started to rock again. “Looks like we’re done. I’ll drive you — shit, wait here, I gotta use the can.”

  The cop was barely out of sight when Fat Boy opened the file and read the report. It said how Miguel Hernández had been smuggling dope for Satans Wrath for years, and that he knew they were at war with the Devils Aces. The report went on to say that Hernández had recognized Leo in a strip club called the Hedonic Palace and followed him home one night.

  A confidential informant identified only as a stripper told the cops that Hernández had bragged to her about doing something really big for Satans Wrath and that he expected to get a lot of money. Later another informant inside Satans Wrath told the cops that Hernández killed Leo, hoping they’d reward him for it. Apparently Satans Wrath refused to pay because they hadn’t sanctioned the hit.

  The last paragraph in the report caught Fat Boy’s attention. It concluded that there was insufficient evidence to arrest Hernández and said there was a rumour that he planned to quit the Sheriff ’s Services and move away. It also listed Hernández’s current address.

  Fat Boy glanced up to ensure the cop wasn’t in sight, then helped himself to the notepad and pen.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Jack was at home Friday at noon when he received a call on his undercover cellphone.

  “Bruce, it’s David Chung.”

  Oh, good, he still thinks I’m Bruce.

  “You’ll never believe what’s happened! I just had a visit from a Sergeant Hawkins of the RCMP.”

  “Oh?”

  Jack listened as David told him that the RCMP had done an undercover operation and caught all the kidnappers. Also that one of the kidnappers had confessed and was co-operating with the police.

  “There were five of them,” David went on to say, “and two were killed, including the one who cut Tommy’s fingers off. Two others who were involved have been arrested and one of them has confessed and is co-operating with the police. The third one won’t be charged because he’s now severely brain damaged.”

  “That’s great news,” Jack said, after David had provided more details about how some of the kidnappers had been poisoned. “Does the RCMP know about me?”

  “No … and I didn’t tell them.”

  “Thanks. My wife is extremely distressed and wants to put it all behind us. I don’t think she could handle going to court.”

  “I understand. It’s strange though, they knew about Andy Zhao and the other Chinese family I told you about, but they never mentioned you.”

  “Maybe the guy who’s confessing now got out of it before they took my son,” Jack suggested.

  “That might explain it.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come out. I’m really worried about my wife. We’ve even sold our place and are moving back east at the end of the month.”

  David expressed his condolences and well wishes, then said, “There’s something I feel awful about. There was a young policewoman involved in the investigation from the beginning. Jia and I sort of blamed her for what happened to Tommy. Turns out that she was involved in the undercover operation and was actually kidnapped by them and held for almost two days.”

  “They didn’t realize she was a police officer?”

  “No, she was undercover. Jia and I want to meet with her to apologize for how we treated her, but Sergeant Hawkins said she probably was suffering from extreme stress and wouldn’t be available to see us. He also said she’s been transferred to some special undercover unit where the officers like to have anonymity.”

  “He told you she is suffering from extreme stress?”

  “Yes.”

  Hawkins knows what happened to her.

  “Jia and I are thinking we’ll write her a letter instead.”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea. A letter is something she could hang on to, and it’d mean more than a quick verbal apology.”

  * * *

  Late Friday afternoon, Lexton nodded cordially to Dyck as he and Connie entered her office.

  “You said you have something to show me?” Lexton said, eyeing the laptop that Connie had brought with her. She gestured to an area in her office where a cluster of upholstered chairs were gathered around a coffee table.

  “I’d requested Staff Sergeant Wood to attend,” Dyck said. “I told her we had some evidence from the trailer that concerns her people.”

  “Yes, I’m here,” Rose announced, striding in. “Sorry if I’m late.”

  “You’re on time,” Lexton said. “Take a seat.” She saw Rose glance furtively at Dyck. Probably worried about what they’ve discovered about Taggart.

  “To start with,” Dyck said, “one of the suspects, Horace Romano, has confessed and given a statement in the presence of his lawyer, and he’s willing to testify against Derek Powers. He told us he acted as a lookout when Skye Cunningham, accompanied by Celeste O’Brien, beat Constable Dalton with a bat.”

  “Does he know how Constable Dalton was identified as an undercover operative?” Lexton asked.

  “No, he said someone tipped off Derek Powers, but Horace has no idea who that was. He also identified three children who’ve been kidnapped in the past two years and said he was present when Celeste O’Brien chopped off Tommy Chung’s fingers using a meat cleaver. He said it was also O’Brien’s plan to murder Sergeant Taggart and Constable Munday immediately upon receipt of the latest ransom.”

  “So Sergeant Taggart was correct in his belief,” Rose noted. Point taken. No need to throw it in my face. “How did they select their targets?” Lexton asked.

  “Both Celeste O’Brien and Skye Cunningham sold real estate,” Connie said, “which is how they met. Apparently they selected their targets by the price of the home they owned, with a preference for Chinese immigrants based on a belief they’d be less likely to call the police. It wasn’t an accurate assumption, but after they’d made the Chungs an example to scare the other victims with, that didn’t matter.”

  “Do we know how the rest of the group met each other?”

  “Celeste and Derek Powers were friends since high school,” Connie replied. “Horace Romano was simply a friend of Peter Powers and was involved in the drug trade with him. Apparently when Derek was studying criminology, he and Celeste used to joke about how to get away with criminal acts and discussed different strategies.”

  “And then the joke became not a joke,” Lexton observed.

  “Exactly,” Connie replied. “Besides kidnapping, Romano said they were planning to rob an armoured car this coming Christmas at one of the malls.”

  “I presume Romano, through his lawyer, has already cut a deal for a reduced sentence?” Lexton asked.

  “His lawyer was smart enough to know that cutting a deal would taint his client’s evidence,” Connie said. “At this point no deals have been made, but no doubt the lawyer hopes Romano’s co-operation will be taken into consideration when he is sentenced. Crown is expecting him to receive a ten-year sentence, while Derek Powers is looking at fifteen if he pleads guilty. My understanding is th
at his lawyer will go for that.”

  “I take it you have something else?” Lexton asked, gesturing to the laptop.

  “Yes, we recovered this footage from the trailer,” Connie stated, opening a video on her laptop.

  Lexton felt confused. “Pornography?”

  “Taken surreptitiously,” Connie replied. “Give me a minute to fast forward to, uh, what you may find relevant.”

  “Forensics found hidden cameras monitoring the master bedroom in the trailer,” Dyck stated. “It’s believed that, with the exception of Celeste O’Brien and Skye Cunningham, the other participants didn’t know they were being filmed. It was all hooked into a computer in the next room.”

  “This is it,” Connie said sombrely. “Alicia … I mean, Constable Munday, was sexually assaulted by O’Brien and Cunningham.”

  Lexton viewed the footage in silence, pursing her lips in an effort to control her emotions as her eyes welled.

  “She never told me,” Rose lamented, looking visibly shaken.

  “There’s more footage from the next day,” Connie said. “You can see Alicia after being dragged back into the room by Sergeant Taggart. A moment later O’Brien is seen pointing a gun at him … I’ll let you watch.”

  “Everything ties in completely with their statements,” Dyck said, “with the exception of the sexual assault on Constable Munday. She never mentioned that in her statement.”

  In the video, Lexton watched Jack gain control of the gun, then tie the two suspects to the end of the bed. “Okay, then they were rescued later,” she noted, expecting Crane to stop the video.

  “Skip ahead to the end,” Dyck said to Crane. “I think the assistant commissioner might find that part of interest.”

  When Lexton saw Taggart ordering Munday to perform CPR, she realized that her mouth was hanging open.

  “Ultimately, they weren’t successful,” Dyck noted, “but under the circumstances, I think it quite extraordinary that they displayed such strong principles after what had taken place.”

  Lexton found herself at a loss for words. She glanced toward her safe and felt ill about what it contained.

  “What should we do about Constable Munday?” Dyck asked. “Obviously she left something very serious out of her statement, but under the circumstances …”

  “Her brain may have blocked it out,” Connie suggested. “The omission may not have been intentional.”

  Still distracted by what she’d viewed, Lexton paused to collect her thoughts. “She’ll need professional help,” she noted. “Perhaps stress leave, as well.”

  “I’ll take her aside and talk to her about it,” Rose said. “I got my masters in psychology. I think I could help guide her to whatever she needs.”

  “Good.” Lexton eyed each of their faces. “I don’t know who else knows about this, but I believe it would be in Constable Munday’s best interests if anyone who does keeps their mouth shut.”

  “Only one person in Forensics knows what we found on the computer,” Connie said. “She’s already promised me that she’ll keep it to herself.”

  Lexton sighed. God, this has been a long week. She dismissed everyone from her office, then retrieved the JT file from her safe. On her way out, she handed it to the secretary.

  “Tracey, toss this in the shredding bin before you lock up.”

  * * *

  It was 11:00 a.m. the following Monday when Inspector Dyck called Lexton to inform her that someone had shot Miguel Hernández in the face earlier that morning when he answered his door. He also said there were no suspects for the murder yet.

  “Goddamn it!” Lexton blurted. She lowered the phone from her mouth and yelled, “Tracey! Did you shred that file I gave you on Friday?”

  “Sorry, not yet,” her secretary replied.

  “Good. Don’t!”