“No sir,” said Jim. “I’m just dealing with the facts.”
“I will give you two more days,” said Verde. “But that’s it. I need everything summarized in two days. At the latest, Wednesday.”
“Alright,” said Jim grudgingly. “Wednesday.”
Jim replaced the phone and then picked it up again, keeping his finger on the cradle. He thought about calling Penny. He wanted to call Penny. But he decided he should keep her out of this until everything was over. If Verde ever found out he had a girlfriend what would he do to her? Just then the telephone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Jimmy? It’s Mom.”
“Hi Mom. How are you?”
“I’m okay Jimmy,” said his mother, but she did not sound okay. She sounded worried, on edge.
“What’s wrong Mom?” asked Jim.
“Well, there is a strange car parked in front of the house,” said his mother. “And there’s a man sitting in the car. Now, he’s not looking at me but, you know, ever since the robbery, I guess I’m a little paranoid.”
“Call the police Mom,” said Jim. “Call the police right now!” Jim was very worried now that Verde was sending him the message that his mother was an easy victim.
“Jimmy! What are you talking about? I thought you would just tell me to calm down. The police? You think this is real?”
“I don’t know. But please call the police. It may be nothing but let’s be cautious,” said Jim. Jim realized he had clearly rattled his mother but he did not think he had a choice. This had to be related to Verde’s threat.
“Okay Jimmy,” said his mother. “I’ll call them right now.”
“Good. Is the car there now?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m calling.”
“Okay. I’m going to hang up now. You call the police and then let me know what happens.”
“Okay,” said his mother. She then hung up the phone.
Jim hung up his phone and two seconds later it rang for the third time.
“Hello?”
“Jim? It’s Penny.”
“Oh, Penny,” said Jim. He was really worried about having any contact with Penny. Verde had threatened everyone. It was better if they were not in contact. But he did not want to frighten her either. “Hi,” said Jim.
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t heard from you. I’ve tried calling you at the office but there was no answer. I left messages but you didn’t return them. I tried calling you at home several times tonight but your phone was always busy.”
“Sorry,” said Jim. “My Mom just called.”
“How is she?” asked Penny.
“There was a car sitting in front of her house and she’s, well, a little paranoid after the robbery.”
“I bet. What did you tell her?”
“I suggested she call the police just to be safe.”
“Good.”
“As a matter of fact, she will be calling me back here any minute so I should keep the line clear.”
“Okay,” said Penny. “But I do want to know what is going on. You’re not avoiding me, are you?”
Jim gave a funny, awkward laugh. “Avoiding you? Of course not,” he said.
“Well then, what happened with the RCMP?”
“I can’t talk right now,” said Jim. “I don’t want Mom to get a busy signal.” He really did not want to talk to her right now but he knew he would have to call her back. But by delaying the conversation he could have a plan. “I’ll call you back after I hear from her,” he said. “Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
He hung up and thought for a minute. His mother would take a little longer to get back to him so he picked up the phone and called Ben.
“Ben, now that I’m kicked out of CCRA I’m working with the RCMP. I hope you’re happy.”
“I don’t know about happy,” said Ben. “But I’m glad the RCMP knows what’s going on. How are you doing with ‘Don Corleone’?”
“He just called and don’t ask,” said Jim.
But Ben did ask and Jim filled him in. After he hung up the phone, Jim had to wait another half hour before his mother called.
“When the police got here the car was gone,” said his mother.
“Did you get the license plate?”
“I couldn’t see the plate from the window and I wasn’t going out there,” said his mother.
“Okay Mom. What are the police going to do?”
“They said they will try to come by here every few hours to check.”
“Good.”
After he finished talking to his mother and ensuring she felt sufficiently safe, he called Penny. He had thought through what he was going to tell her. Although he was originally going to keep her out of the loop, he found he just could not keep a secret from her. He was going to suggest that they not call each other until the Verde saga was over.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” asked Penny.
“For your own good,” said Jim.
“I think I can judge my own good for myself,” said Penny. Then her tone changed. “But that was sweet,” she conceded.
“Great,” said Jim, making it sound as if sweet was the something absolutely abhorrent. But he was really thinking that having Penny think he was sweet was not really bad at all.
When he finished talking with Penny Jim decided he needed a break. He grabbed a six pack of beer, ordered some pizza and sat watching television. As he sat there on the living room couch he thought about his day. Things were now moving fast, much too fast. He had been informally recruited by the RCMP, literally thrown out of his boss’s office and threatened by a mobster. He had also asked his mother to call the police because she was being staked out by the Mafia and forced to tell his girlfriend about an arrangement that threatened her life. All in all, quite a day! But when would it stop and how would it all end? Well, he thought, he knew something was going to happen on Thursday when he did not give Verde his summaries. So he knew Thursday would be an important day. But how would it all end?
Chapter 23 - Working at the RCMP
Tue May 18th
As Madeleine left the office, closing the door behind her, Mintz picked up the courier package that she had just placed on his desk. Under the envelope was a copy of today’s National Post with the headline “No Progress with MI-5”. Mintz pulled an inner manila envelope out of the courier package and opened it with a gold letter opener. Inside the envelope was a short bound report which Mintz read through with rapt interest. When he was done he threw the report back onto his desk, picked up the phone and dialled a number.
“Yes?” said the voice
“It’s me,” said Mintz. “I’ve read the report. Is this all true?”
“Of course,” said the voice.
“Can you still protect him?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think he’s up to?”
“We don’t know that yet,” said the man. “But we will,” he added.
“Just make sure he’s protected,” said Mintz. “I don’t know what he’s up to either but you have to look out for him.”
“No problem. Any other instructions?”
“No,” said Mintz. “Just keep sending me daily reports.”
“Yes sir,” said the voice. Click.
***
Jim woke up late, got dressed, and was ready to go to work when he remembered that he did not have a job to go to. Desjardins and Gordon had never told him where he was supposed to go. Come to think of it, they did not even know Jim no longer had a job.
It was 9:30am when Jim picked up his telephone book and flipped through the government blue pages while sitting at his kitchen table. He found the number for the main RCMP switchboard and was about to dial when something caught his eye. His personal belongings from the office were sitting in a box on the floor and a courier envelope was sticking up at the edge of the box.
Jim we
nt over to retrieve the courier envelope. It was the one Verde had sent him. He opened the manila envelope inside to find Verde’s letter but no cheques. What had he done with them? He left the telephone book on the kitchen table and went to the bathroom where there was a hamper full of dirty clothes. He went through his pants but found nothing. Then he went through his shirts and found the three bank drafts in one of the shirt pockets.
“Whoa!” he said to himself. He took the drafts and placed them on his bedside table. He then returned to the kitchen table and placed his phone call.
“GRC,” said the voice in French.
“Inspector Desjardins please,” said Jim.
“One moment please,” said the same voice, now in English.
Within seconds another voice came on the line. “Desjardins.”
“Inspector, this is Jim Kincaid. What do you want me to do today? I no longer have a job.”
“Ah, Jim,” said Desjardins. “You got your leave of absence?”
“Permanently,” said Jim.
Desjardins ignored the sarcasm. “Come down here, to headquarters,” he said.
“Where is it?” asked Jim.
“1200 Vanier Parkway. Do you know where that is?”
“No.”
Do you have a car?”
“No.”
Desjardins sighed. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll send someone to pick you up. We really have to get started quickly.” Desjardins sounded distracted. “I have to go now. These MI-5 people are creating a real fuss. Someone will pick you up in front of your building within the hour.”
“Okay,” said Jim.
“And Jim?” said Desjardins.
“Yes?”
“Whatever you do today, you’ll have to do it fast.”
“I understand,” said Jim, and he then he heard Desjardin’s phone hang up.
As Jim stood in the lobby of his apartment building waiting for his ride to RCMP headquarters, he stared blankly at the traffic moving on the street outside. Then something caught his eye. He noticed something moving in the shadows across the street to his right. The movement occurred within a small alcove near a service door. Jim looked again. Nothing. Then, suddenly, he saw something move and he knew what it was. It was the man in the overcoat that he had seen time and time again over the last week.
Jim decided to confront the man. He opened the door, stepped out of the lobby, and moved toward the man standing in the alcove. Just as he was about to cross the front driveway, a car pulled up to the lobby steps. The passenger window rolled down and the driver called out to him from across the front seats.
“Jim Kincaid?”
“Yes?”
“Inspector Desjardins sent me,” said the man. “Get in.”
Jim settled into the passenger seat and then looked across the street to see if he could see the overcoat. Nothing. As the car started to pull out onto the street, the driver started talking to Jim but Jim was now looking behind the car through the rear window. As they drove down the street he saw the overcoat flag down a taxi, get into it, and start following him. Jim frowned. It had to be Verde’s man.
“Is something wrong?” Jim heard the driver ask him.
Jim looked over at the driver, a young heavyset man, a boy really, but a big boy. The driver might even be younger than he was. Although the constable wore a short sleeved white shirt with the RCMP patches emblazoned on each epaulet, Jim was thankful that the car was unmarked and that, from a distance in the car, the driver did not look like a policeman. Imagine what Verde would do if he found Jim talking to the police!
“I think someone’s following me,” said Jim.
“Really?” asked the driver.
“Really!” exclaimed Jim. “And I think he has been following me all week.”
“This is great!” said the driver, excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to lose a tail.”
“Then do it!” yelled Jim, having turned around and noticed that the taxi was about four car lengths behind them. There was not a lot of traffic at this time of the morning but there was one car between the police car and the taxi and half a dozen cars between the police car and the next intersection.
“Okay!” yelled the driver at the top of his lungs. “Hold on!”
Jim was pushed back into the seat as the car accelerated forward at a ferocious rate. The wheels squealed and the taxi started to disappear behind them in Jim’s side view mirror. The driver started to zigzag between the cars in front of them, swiftly changing lanes as required. Then Jim looked up and noticed a red traffic light in the distance.
“Put this out on the roof!” yelled the driver, pointing out a red globe light under Jim’s seat. The driver had already rolled down Jim’s electric window and the air was rushing into the car. With the police car zigzagging around the traffic and at their current speed well above the speed limit, Jim found it very difficult to reach out to place the globe on the roof. When Jim hit his head on the window frame he pulled the globe light back into the car.
“The light fits onto a bracket sticking out of the roof,” explained the driver. Jim put his hand out to touch the roof of the car but he couldn’t find the bracket.
“Take off your seat belt,” said the driver. “You might have to climb out the window a bit to find the bracket.” The car continued to bomb down the street and the driver continued to move in and out of lanes. We must be travelling at double the speed limit, thought Jim.
Then, without warning, the driver started making turns. After several quick turns they were racing down Wellington Street right in front of the Parliament Buildings. Then, after another series of turns the Parliament Buildings were out of sight and they were travelling fast down a three lane one way street.
Jim took off his seat belt, more worried about the man following him than falling out the window. He was almost sitting on the passenger door, feeling for the bracket on the roof, the wind pushing at his face and arms, when the car turned suddenly to the left. The car was turning fast and Jim felt himself start to fall out of the window. It all happened in slow motion as Jim felt himself start to slide further out of the car. Finally, in one quick motion, his body fell but he latched himself onto the door with his legs bent at the knees. Jim provided the other drivers with a preposterous sight as he dangled upside down out of the window.
He dropped the globe light as he concentrated on staying latched to the car door with his legs. The road was whizzing by his head as Jim tried to look behind the car. Then something hit him in the head. The red globe light, swinging by its wires along the side of the car, had hit him. Jim grabbed the light and held on to it as he tried to look around the car while still upside down, but he could not tell if the taxi was still following them.
Then Jim had a horrible thought. He could not let the man in the taxi see the red globe light. If Verde found out that he was working with the police, he was as good as dead. Jim called up into the window of the car but he could not tell if the driver heard him. The sound of the wind alone was probably enough to muffle his cries. The car continued to race through the downtown area, still zigzagging in and out of traffic. Then the driver made another sudden turn onto a much different, much narrower street. Jim’s face had turned to ash and he did not know if he could hold on much longer. The last turn at forced his legs up so that his legs were no longer fully bent at his knees. He was only holding on by his heels. As he felt himself start to slip he looked down at the road. They were moving so fast he could not see the grains in the asphalt.
Finally, the car started to slow. Jim was still holding on to the car door with his heels, but barely. The driver got out, walked around the car and helped Jim onto the road. Jim stood up shakily with help from the driver.
“Hi,” said the driver, cheerily. “I’m Pat Ball, Constable Pat Ball, RCMP.” He put his hand out in front of him to shake Jim’s. He had a wide smile.
“That was close,” said Jim, still trying to compose himself. Instead of shaking Ball’s hand, Jim handed the gl
obe light back to him. “We can’t use this until we’re sure we’ve lost that guy,” said Jim.
Ball ignored him, took the globe light and placed it on the roof. “Why?” he asked.
“I think he works for the Mafia,” said Jim.
“Great!” said Ball, enthusiastically. “Another first for me.”
Jim just looked at Ball. How old could he be? 22? 23? “How long have you been a policeman?”
Ball looked at his watch. “Just over a week,” he said proudly. Then, looking around the street they had parked on, a street devoid of vehicles, he added, “We’d better get going.”
Jim pointed to the globe light that Ball had put on the roof. “I think you better take that off,” said Jim.
Ball dismissed Jim’s concerns. “No one will notice it if it isn’t on, especially if they are behind us,” said Ball. “But this way I can use it later.”
Once they were back in the car, Ball did a U-turn that took them onto the sidewalk. He was just about to turn onto a major downtown street, when he stopped the car and backed up quickly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jim.
“Your man’s out there,” said Ball. He turned the car around, accelerated quickly, and drove at highway speeds down the tiny road until he could turn left, the opposite direction to the way the taxi had been moving. “I think we’ve lost him,” said Ball. “Can we use the light now?”
Jim looked around and then slouched in the passenger seat. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
Jim could not see the red globe light but he assumed it was on when the siren started blaring. Ball hardly stopped at intersections notwithstanding red lights, stop signs, or traffic, slowing down just enough to make sure each intersection was clear. After a few minutes watching behind them as they raced from the downtown core, Jim sat up, turning around in his seat. There was no sign of the taxi. He just hoped the man had not seen Jim in the police car.
It took another fifteen minutes to reach RCMP headquarters where Ball dropped Jim off at the front door. Desjardins and Gordon were in the lobby within minutes of Jim reporting to the reception desk. When they arrived at reception they gawked at the dishevelled person that stood in front of them. Jim was a mess, his shirt was filthy and torn in several places, and his hair was plastered to his forehead.
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