Penny was really scared. Given what Jim had told her about the man he was dealing with in Toronto, she was certain this man was Mafia. Although he wore what looked like an expensive tailored suit, his face looked as though it was roughly hewn from granite. And he just looked mean. She did not like looking at him but she looked at him one more time. He was talking into a cell phone. She also saw that now another, similar, man was sitting next to him. When the first man returned the cell phone to his jacket pocket he whispered something in the other man’s ear and the man nodded. Christ, she thought, now there were two of them.
Penny knew she had to leave the hospital. Thank God she knew which door they were watching. She quickly called her supervisor, saying that she was not feeling well and would be heading home. That taken care of, Penny left the office for the back stairway. Once she was on the main floor, she exited the hospital by a rear entrance door, one that could not be opened from outside. Now outside, she decided to walk along the back of the main hospital building until she could get back out to the street and catch a bus. She was determined to walk to the third bus stop down the street, somewhere where the men would not see her waiting.
Seconds after she had heard the door from the stairway slam shut, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned quickly and saw that two men, different men, men she had never seen before, were walking behind her. And they also did not look friendly. Penny started running away from them while looking behind her. Funny, she thought, the men were not running to catch her. She turned to look in front of her so she could start running faster but she hit something. She looked ahead and saw that two more strange men were blocking her path and she had run into one of them. How many of these thugs were watching her?
“Penny Stein?” asked the man she had run into. He was dark, rugged, but not at all attractive. He had a large scar that started at one ear and ran down to his chin.
Penny did not answer but tried to move around the man. Unfortunately, he was holding her too tight. Soon, all four men had her. When she saw another two men come around the corner of the building she knew she was really in trouble. They were the men who, just minutes ago, had been sitting on the bench outside her office. She started screaming.
“Let me go!” she yelled. “Help me! Someone! Please help!” The men did not try to calm her down. Instead, one of the men calmly put a cloth over her face and everything went black.
***
After Jim finished with Verde, he sat back in the chair and thought carefully. Something was gnawing at him. He knew he had forgotten something but what was it?
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Gary.
“What?” asked Jim, turning around and staring wildly at Gary.
“Penny for your thoughts,” repeated Gary. “You know, it’s an expression. What are you thinking?”
“That’s it!” cried Jim, angry with himself for forgetting. He reached for the phone.
“What?” asked Gary.
“I forgot to call Penny back,” said Jim, dialling her home number. “Shit! I hope she’s okay.” But there was no answer at Penny’s home. He then called the hospital.
“Ultrasound,” said the voice.
“Penny Stein please,” said Jim.
“Sorry,” said the voice. “Penny went home sick about a half hour ago.”
Jim called Desjardins and filled him in. “You can’t go home Jim,” said Desjardins. “Have Gary arrange for a room for you in the building. We have lots of rooms for visitors. You can sleep there.”
“Okay,” said Jim. “But what about Penny?”
“I’ll have someone check into it,” he said. “She’s probably just on her way home.”
“God,” said Jim, exasperated. “I hope so.”
Chapter 25 - The Operation
Thu May 20th
Jim was asleep when the phone rang. He woke up disoriented and looked around the room trying to remember where he was. He turned on the bedside light and looked around. Then he remembered that he was at RCMP headquarters in an overnight room.
“Hello?” asked Jim sleepily when he answered the telephone.
“It’s Desjardins.”
“Yes?”
“We can’t find Penny Stein.”
“Shit!” exclaimed Jim, sitting up straight in his bed. “What time is it?”
“It’s one am,” said Desjardins. “We’ll keep looking but we found some evidence of chloroform behind the hospital. It looks like she may have been abducted.”
Jim was now up. “What can I do?”
“Nothing right now,” said Desjardins. “But it looks like everything’s going to happen today.”
“I’m going back to the systems room to see what I can find.”
“Okay,” said Desjardins. “You know how to reach me.”
After dressing quickly, Jim walked down to the lobby where he had seen several newspaper boxes. He put some coins in the Ottawa Citizen box and pulled out the late night edition. The front page made Jim smile when he saw the banner: “MI-5 Go Home!” Because the British had also made no progress there was now a feeling that the media had been too hard on the RCMP. The newspaper concluded it was time for Canadians to solve a Canadian problem.
They have no idea how close we are, thought Jim. Once back in the systems room, Jim returned to monitoring the traffic between Verde and Transports Québec. Nothing was happening and, moreover, he had heard nothing more from Desjardins. Jim picked up the phone.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked Desjardins.
“I’m in Québec City right now,” said Desjardins. “The Sûreté have surrounded the Transports Québec offices and the home of Marcel Godin. Gordon is arranging for the OPP to surround Verde’s house in Toronto. Once everyone is in place we will storm both locations simultaneously.”
Jim sighed. “And Penny?”
“No news yet,” said Desjardins. “But we still have people looking all over Ottawa. The RCMP, the OPP, and the Ottawa Police are all looking. It’s a top priority.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Just keep watching the traffic and let me know if anything changes.”
Jim, sitting all alone in the server room, continued to watch the traffic on the monitor. His lack of sleep over the past few weeks was beginning to catch up with him and his eyes kept closing involuntarily. He had just reached the point where he was about to fall asleep when the phone rang. He snatched the receiver.
“Kincaid.”
“Jim? Desjardins. We had a telephone call from Verde to Godin. Verde has confirmed the meeting later today and has also explicitly referred to Godin’s drug business.”
“You have that on tape?” asked Jim.
“Yes. This is better than we had hoped for.”
“Maybe it’s too good,” said Jim.
“What do you mean?”
“Why would a smart Mafioso like Verde say something incriminating over the telephone?”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” said Desjardins. “We see it all the time. Anyway, once we have Godin we should be able to find out where the Minister is. We’re about ready to go. I need to know if you have seen anything on your monitor?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay then. Keep monitoring the traffic and let me know if you see anything. Otherwise, I’ll call you when it’s over.”
Jim was feeling very bad. Awful, in fact. The sting operation on Verde and Godin had been his idea. Watching out for his Mom and Ben had been his idea. But he had forgotten all about Penny. He hoped she was alright but there was nothing he could do right now to help her.
For the next several hours Jim did not leave the systems room. Gary appeared at 10:30am but nothing appeared on Jim’s traffic monitor for the rest of the morning. Gary arranged for lunch and the two of them continued to watch the monitor into the afternoon. After lunch other members of Gary’s team began to arrive. Then, at 2:45pm, the red telephone rang.
Jim had been pacing around the room. He walked over to the p
hone to pick it up. “Hello?”
“Mr. Kincaid,” said the voice. “This is Giuseppe Verde.”
Jim’s heart seemed to stop and he felt a sudden pressure at his temples. Verde should have been in custody by now. Jim had to think quickly. He was to have investigated Verde’s list by now so he had to diffuse Verde’s inquiry.
“I now have your summary, Mr. Verde,” lied Jim, trying his best to sound upbeat. “Would you like me to send it to you by e-mail?”
“I think not, Mr. Kincaid,” said Verde. His voice was different. He sounded cross. No, it was worse than that. He was fuming. “You have double crossed me Mr. Kincaid,” continued Verde. “I gave you a loan,” he said. “I gave you a job,” he said, louder. “I gave you a great opportunity and this is how you repay me?” Verde was now shouting into the phone. “This is not a smart way to do business with the Cosa Nostra,” said Verde. Jim had to hold the receiver away from his ear because Verde was yelling so loudly. “This makes you an idioto!” continued Verde. “This makes you a dead man!”
Jim’s eyes had opened wide. His right hand clenched the phone tightly. His whole body was shaking. This was not what he had expected. At least, he thought, he was safe at the headquarters of the RCMP. But Penny was not safe and Jim would not be safe once he left the security of the RCMP headquarters. He had counted on Verde being caught. He had counted on Verde going to prison for a very long time. Without that, Jim would never be safe. His life would never be his own.
“What do you want me to do?” asked Jim.
“In my line of work,” said Verde. “It is very important to have leverage. You understand leverage?”
“I do,” said Jim.
“Leverage is a wonderful thing.” Verde was no longer yelling. He was now talking in his usual way, a little flowery, as if he were reading a poem. “Leverage is about balance. For each thing I need, I have to have something, some leverage, to make it happen. Do you know what I need from you?”
“The summary?”
Verde laughed. “Oh no, Mr. Kincaid,” he chuckled. “The list would be nice and, perhaps, when this is all done I will get that too. No, Mr. Kincaid, I need you to destroy any evidence you and the police have accumulated against me.”
“Evidence?” asked Jim, trying his best to sound surprised. But he knew he was not a good actor and that Verde would see through the charade.
“I am not a stupid man,” said Verde sharply. “Don’t waste my time. I know that you and the police have been watching me. You think I didn’t see the police surrounding my home? You think in my business I do not take precautions? Who are you working with? The OPP?”
Jim decided there was no point in hiding what Verde already knew about. “The RCMP,” he said.
“Of course,” said Verde. The way he said it, Jim could almost visualize him nodding to himself. “Well,” said Verde. “I need all of the evidence destroyed and proof of its destruction. And since you are already dealing with the RCMP, I will need a federal pardon or equivalent guarantee of immunity. I need to know I am in the clear.”
“I don’t know,” said Jim. “I’ll have to ask.”
“You do that,” said Verde. “But do you remember what I was telling you about leverage?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have a little leverage with you, Mr. Kincaid.” Verde paused, waiting for Jim to say something. After several seconds Jim asked.
“What is that?” asked Jim.
“I have Penny Stein,” said Verde.
Jim had known all along that it had to have been Verde who kidnapped Penny but, hearing it now, was too almost too much to accept. Jim could not see his own face as it turned white, all blood draining out from it. His chest constricted and he found breathing difficult. He felt weak in his knees and his legs began to wobble. He sat down in a nearby chair and put his free hand to his forehead. He was sweating. “Penny?”
“Yes,” said Verde. “Pretty good leverage, don’t you think?”
Though initially light-headed, Jim quickly became angry. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” he screamed into the phone. Everyone in the systems room looked over at him. Now he had a local audience too.
“Oh, she’s just fine Jim,” said Verde. This was the first time that Verde had ever used Jim’s first name and he took that as an omen. “Perhaps you don’t believe that I have her. Would you like to speak to her?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on.” There was silence on the line for about ten seconds.
“Jim?” It was definitely Penny.
“Oh Penny,” said Jim. “I’m so sorry I got you into this. Are you okay?”
“I am,” said Penny. “They kidnapped me from behind the hospital.”
“I know,” said Jim. “Penny,” he continued. “I’m going to do everything possible to get you out of there. I …”
“Oh!” cried Penny.
“You will get her back,” interrupted Verde. “When I get my pardon. You have until six o’clock tonight to make it happen.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough time.”
“Well, it better be” said Verde. “Because that is all the time I am giving you.”
“How do I contact you?” asked Jim.
“You don’t. I will contact you at six o’clock.” Verde paused so that the time could sink in. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Jim. “Can I talk to Penny again?”
“No,” said Verde curtly. “But I believe I need to motivate you further. With me here is a colleague of mine. His name is Angelo Marconi but we call him Il Macellaio.” Verde paused, knowing what Jim would ask.
“What does that mean?”
“It means The Butcher,” said Verde. “Do we now understand one another?”
“Yes.”
“And let me also warn you,” said Verde. “That you have other relatives and friends who are … vulnerable.”
“I understand,” said Jim.
“Good,” said Verde. Click.
***
Ben Gould was sitting in the basement coffee shop with Cindy Lyndon having lunch when he noticed a man staring at them from the concourse.
“Who do you think it is?” asked Cindy.
“I think I know,” said Ben. “And it’s not good.”
“Should we call the police?”
“Yeah,” said Ben. “I think we should. There’s a phone booth outside the men’s washroom in the back. You stay here.”
Ben slowly stood up and walked casually to the back of the coffee shop where the phone booth was hidden out of sight of the concourse. In seconds he was at the public telephone. Unfortunately there was a man standing in front of the phone booth talking into the phone. Ben waited as patiently as he could but he could not hide his anxiety. The man took one look at Ben, said something into the phone, hung up and left. Ben picked up the receiver and began to dial. 9 – 1 – But he did not get a chance to dial the last digit. From behind him a voice told him to stop.
“Put down the receiver,” said the slow, deep voice. Ben complied.
“Now,” said the voice. “Come with me.”
***
Jim’s mother spent much of the morning looking out the window at the two cars parked in front of her house. One car sat directly in front of the house while the other one was less obvious, located four houses down the block. One man sat in each car but neither seemed to be doing much of anything.
At noon Mrs. Kincaid retreated to the kitchen to make a sandwich and a cup of tea for lunch. Because the front window was not visible from the kitchen table, she decided to eat her lunch in the living room. Setting the tea and sandwich on the living room coffee table, she took a quick peek out the window before sitting down. She was horrified to see that the car in front of the house was empty. The car was there but the man was gone.
Mrs. Kincaid did not know what to do. She had started breathing much too quickly and was slowly becoming dizzy. She started to walk back to the kitchen to call the police when the front d
oorbell rang. She stopped in her tracks and gave the situation some thought. Perhaps she had overreacted? Maybe this was the policeman checking up on her. She decided she could answer the door if she kept the security chain on. The doorbell rang again.
She walked up to the front door and put on the security chain. She slowly unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. She peeked through the gap between the door and the door frame. A swarthy man in his late twenties stared back at her.
“Yes?” she asked cautiously.
“Hello,” said the man kindly. “I have come to check up on you Mrs. Kincaid. Your son, Jim, sent me.”
She was so relieved she almost collapsed. Of course Jim was looking out for her. She grabbed the handle of the door to steady herself and then slowly turned the knob. She went to open the door but it caught on the chain.
“Just one second,” she told the man. She unlatched the chain and slowly opened the door. Her eyes opened wide when she saw that the nice man Jim had sent was pointing a gun at her.
“Inside Mrs. Kincaid,” he said coldly.
Shocked, Ellen Kincaid turned around and began to walk back into the living room. She had thought she might be scared should something like this happen but she found herself oddly calm. She liked her life and she loved seeing her son but she had already lived a long, full life and she decided that she did not fear her own death. Stoically she decided that it was better her life be lost than someone younger with more life ahead of them. She just prayed that her son Jimmy would be okay and that the good Lord would look over him.
Her favourite living room location was a burgundy armchair set with its back to the entrance. She walked toward the chair and sat down in it with her back to the man with the gun. Her mood was melancholy as she listened to the man talking to her from behind the chair. “Say good night old lady,” the man was saying, so very coldly she thought. Then, as though in slow motion, the room and its furniture developed red dots, as though everything around her had contracted measles. Odd, she thought, and then, when she finally registered the two gunshots, she realized it was her own blood that had made the red dots. Before she lost consciousness she remembered what Jim had said to her. The policeman would not be the one not shooting at her. She wondered how she could have made such a mistake. Then everything went black.
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