Finally, I got the door open. As soon as I stepped into the apartment, I got the feeling that someone was there, or had been. A tingle ran up and down my spine. Then the smell hit me. It was meaty, sour and raw, like hamburger had been left out on the counter and spoiled. I immediately ruled that out. I had no hamburger and wasn’t organized enough to take food out in advance.
Then I detected an undercurrent of shit. The first thought that hit me was Mr. Mo. Had he played some vile prank to get back at me for bullying him? I flicked on the living room light. Nothing looked disturbed. I walked to the fireplace and picked up a heavy poker. Although the fireplace was fake, the poker was real, with a brass handle and a long, round steel shaft.
I advanced cautiously to the kitchen, then I saw it. Ranger was hanging upside down from the three-light fixture over the island. He had been neatly gutted and his entrails hung into the sink. Blood obscured his little face. The foul, rotten stench was overwhelming.
I jumped back, weak at the knees. The poker fell to the floor, then I quickly picked it up again. Whoever had done this could still be in the apartment. I retreated to the living room, pulled my phone from my purse and called Colin.
“Come back, quick,” I said. “I need you.”
“Well!” Colin said with an enthusiasm that told me he had misunderstood my intent in a predictable way.
“Someone has been in my apartment. They’ve killed the dog and hanged it from the light fixture.”
“Get out of the apartment now, Kris,” he said, his voice forceful and urgent. Then I heard him say to the Uber driver “Turn this bloody thing around.”
“Call 911 and go down to the lobby. Better yet, get right out of the building.”
“Sure, all right. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” I hung up. I wasn’t going to bring the police into this. That would be the start of a long, complicated conversation about why someone would break into my apartment and kill my dog. Poor Ranger. Ugly as he was, I had really grown fond of him.
The kind of gutless person who thought killing a dog was the way to send me a message wouldn’t be brave enough to stick around and underline his point in person, I hoped. Brandishing the poker, I checked out the bathroom and the two remaining bedrooms, half hoping there was someone to whom I could give a stunning blow to the head, but there was nothing.
Slipping into a pair of black flats, I closed the door and locked the apartment, then took the elevator down to the lobby to meet Colin. Now that I was out of the apartment, I was shaking. Despite the fact that Mae Wang had died in front of my building, I somehow retained the idea that I was safe in my own apartment. I could now see that was naïve.
The black Camry pulled up in front of the building and Colin leaped out, running towards the building. His expression was a mix of anger and concern. Wrenching open the door, he said, “Kris, are you sure you are OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No. We don’t want them getting tangled up in this now. It’s not going to help.”
Colin considered that, then said, “All right, but at least phone Mike Reilly.”
“OK, but let’s not stand here in the lobby discussing our business. Come on up.”
“Really? It sounded a bit grisly up there.”
“It is, but we have to clean up the mess and figure out what to do next.”
This time we took the elevator. With Colin in his black suit and me in my borrowed fancy dress, we looked like a normal couple returning from a night out. It was a fleeting illusion.
At the door to the apartment, Colin said, “Let me go in first.”
“It’s quite safe. I’ve checked it out.” Then I touched his arm to stop him from entering, remembering Farrell’s caution about electronic eavesdropping. If he thought whoever was behind this was tracking my phone and computer, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if there were bugs or cameras in the apartment.
“Something I should have told you. Reilly and I met with a security consultant. He thinks there is a good chance that I am under electronic surveillance. We talked about phone and computer, but now I think my apartment could be bugged, too. If it wasn’t before, it is now, with whoever did this having been in there.”
“Jesus Kris. You should have told me. I would have arranged protection. What are we up against here?”
“Some kind of security agency, I expect. The question is, whose?”
“The Chinese surely, from what you’ve told me.”
“Maybe. Look, I think we need to watch what we say while we deal with the dog, then head to a hotel room.”
“What about my place?”
“Probably safe, but I think a hotel would be better. We can’t afford to be predictable.”
“All right. Let’s clean this up then.”
Colin entered the apartment, then said, “What an unholy smell.”
He led the way into the kitchen, took off his suit jacket and tie, then took a green plastic garbage bag from under the sink. “I’ll cut him down, bag him and clean this up,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it. You didn’t have feelings for the dog, did you?”
“I had gotten used to him, but where I grew up, when a dog got old, you got out your .22 and took him out behind the barn. I’ll be fine.” In fact, I had found Ranger’s grisly demise more disturbing than I would have expected, perhaps because it illustrated the casual cruelty of the people involved. I didn’t want to look weak to Colin, though, or to whoever might be watching or listening.
Colin pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, took a knife from the drawer, then cut the thin rope that held Ranger’s rear legs to the light fixture, letting him down into the sink. “Good to know. I couldn’t stand the animal myself. Any idea of what we can do with the body?”
“I’m afraid we are going to have to drop him down the garbage chute. Double bag him. I will tell Caroline that he broke free from his leash and was hit by a car.
“If you have got that handled, I’m going to change,” I said, then immediately wondered if there was some kind of spy camera in the bedroom.
“Yes, do that. I don’t want you to spend the night here. Let’s go back to my place.”
“Great idea,” I said, for the benefit of whomever we might be eavesdropping.
In the bedroom, I left the lights off while I changed into a pair of jeans and a lightweight red sweater. I threw a few clothes into a carry-on bag. There was no telling when I would return.
When I got back to the kitchen, Ranger was gone from view and Colin was scouring the sink and countertop with cleanser. “You seem to be an old hand at this,” I said.
“Cleaned lots of game back in Suffolk. And sheep, of course. Amazing amount of entrails there.”
“Spare me the details.”
“Right, sorry.”
We left the apartment and I locked the door, although it seemed pointless. Then we deposited poor Ranger in the garbage chute. I tried to think of it as the urban equivalent of burial at sea.
Back in front of the building, we sat on the outdoor metal chairs of the Bridgehead, now closed for the night. The evening was deceptively benign, with happy strollers on Elgin heading out for a night at the bars. Life as usual, but it was almost the exact spot where Mae had died. So much had happened in just over a week.
I called Reilly’s burner with mine, to let him know what had happened, that things had escalated. His phone rang five times before he picked up. He sounded breathless, stressed.
“Mike. It’s Kris. You OK?”
“Yes, but Suzy’s not. She was abducted and beaten. I’ve gotten her back and she’s seeing a doctor right now.”
Suddenly, Ranger’s death seemed like pretty small news. “Suzy,” I said to Colin, then, “Is she badly hurt Mike?”
“I don’t think so, but she’s a mess. A concussion for sure. Kris, she was taken by a guy driving a vehicle with diplomatic plates. He roughed her up and stripped her out in the
woods in Nepean. She only escaped because a second guy showed up and there was an argument. She took the opportunity to make a run for it.”
My first response was anger; my second, fear that I would be next. What would have happened if I had been home tonight?
“Who did it, does she know?”
“No, he was wearing a mask.”
“Police involved?”
“Just me. Suzy didn’t want that.”
I could understand her reaction. What she had been through would be humiliating and getting people she worked with involved would make it worse. Most cops were good people, but some were cruel bastards. She’d have been the butt of jokes for years to come.
“She at the hospital?”
“No, doctor friend of hers. Why were you calling?”
“It’s nothing compared to your news, but someone was in my apartment. He killed my dog, gutted it and hanged it from a light fixture.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re not still there, are you?”
“Out front, waiting for an Uber. Colin is with me.”
“All right. We need to meet, regroup. I need to take Suzy someplace. Her own house won’t be safe. Where are you headed?”
“Where are we going?” I asked Colin.
“Chateau. I know a chap there. Very discreet. He’ll keep it off the books.”
“Chateau Laurier,” I told Reilly. “Call me when you get there and I will tell you what room.”
“All right. Good. Be careful and call me if anything changes.”
After she hung up, Reilly gingerly touched the bump on the back of his head. There was no need to tell Kris how badly he had been outplayed. He was cut and bruised from going down head first onto the gravel parking lot. How the hell had that guy gotten up behind him? He knew he was getting old and out of shape, but he didn’t think he had lost it that badly. Maybe it was time to hang it up, but not now, when people’s lives depended on him.
When he had gotten groggily to his feet, he had seen Suzy, peeking out from the edge of the forest. He looked around and saw that the big SUV was gone, having smashed through some undergrowth to get around his car. Reilly had stumbled to Suzy and draped his muddy suit coat over her shoulders. They had clung to each other, survivors of something neither fully comprehended.
Reilly didn’t understand what was going on, but he knew one thing: This had become deeply personal and if these fuckers thought they were going to hurt Suzy, they’d have to go through him to do it. He would be her shadow until this was all over.
It was time to escalate. He called Farrell. “Hey bud, it’s Reilly. Remember that problem we were talking about the other day.”
“Sure.”
“It’s gotten worse. I could use your particular type of help.”
“I think I know what you mean. Happy to lend a hand.”
“Great. Meet me at the Chateau Laurier as soon as you can. Call me when you get there. Come prepared for action.”
“I always do.”
THIRTY-SIX
Colin and I made a mismatched pair when we entered the lobby of the Chateau Laurier. He was still in his dark suit and I looked like I was dressed for a picnic. I felt out of place, too. The Chateau is one of those grand railway hotels, its walls covered in rich wooden panelling, its lobby soaring, its carpet thick and its furniture tastefully understated. Men and women in suits powered through the lobby, important people with somewhere to go. It was the kind of place that my family could only have gotten into if they were serving drinks. At least my single battered suitcase made it look as if we weren’t just checking in for a quickie.
Colin strode to the reservation desk with me in tow. I was sure that his self-confident manner and posh accent would smooth over any awkwardness. Colin had a way of implying that he was upper crust, perhaps an earl, certainly nothing less than a knight.
The first reservation clerk free was an earnest-looking young guy with hair severely short on the sides but long on the top in the absurd fashion of the moment. It didn’t exactly work with his grey suit and thin black tie.
“How may we assist, sir?”
“Jean-Luc.” Colin said curtly.
“I will see if he is available.”
“He will be. Tell him it’s Wendover.”
The clerk scuttled into a back room and Colin looked impatiently at his watch. In less than a minute, Jean-Luc appeared. He was about 35, with a long, angular face, thick, dark hair and facial hair that was somewhere between unshaven and a beard. His smiled looked genuine when he said, “Ah, Colin. So good to see you again.”
The two men shook hands, then Colin leaned in close to Jean-Luc and said, “My colleague Ms. Redner and I are working on an investigative piece. Very confidential. We are meeting some sources here shortly. I will need a suite and an adjoining room. Others have taken a competitive interest in the same story, so I will need you to keep our presence out of the hotel computer system. I trust I can rely on your absolute discretion.”
“But of course,” Jean-Luc said with a shrug that meant yes. “I am in the discretion business. Have I ever failed you before?”
“Never. That’s why we are here,” Colin said.
I hadn’t really thought about it, but Colin had lived at the Chateau for two months when he was first brought to Ottawa as editor. Naturally, he would know the people who could get things done.
As we rode up on the elevator, I found it difficult not to think of the many times we had gotten together in Toronto hotel rooms, back when I thought our complex relationship was nothing more than good recreational sex. The Royal York had been our spot, and it was much like the Chateau. If my mind was going there, I could guarantee that Colin’s was.
As if sensing my thoughts, he reached out and lightly touched my hand, but then he said, “It will be fine. We’ll get them, whoever they are.”
I wasn’t quite so sure, but I said, “I know. We’re getting close. What they did today shows they’re desperate.”
The room was as expected with creamy yellow walls, creamier wood trim everywhere, parquet floors and comfortable furniture that was broken in but quietly expensive. In the main room of the suite, a couch and two chairs faced each other. I could see the bedroom through a door to our right. For just a moment, I considered proposing a brief, no-commitment tension release, but then Colin broke the mood by saying, “This thing with Suzy is really concerning. In all my years in the business, I have only had one reporter physically assaulted and that was in a bar fight. Reilly seems to think she is OK?”
“Shaken up. We’ll soon see.”
“Right,” he said. Then, putting his concern to one side, he said, “This will be our base of operations for now. I will have Jean-Luc locate a couple of laptops and send them up.”
So it was to be business, then. “Great. I’ve got all my notes and files on a memory stick.”
My burner phone rang, sooner than I had expected. “We’re in the lobby,” Reilly said. I gave him the room number and told Colin that Reilly and Suzy were on their way up.
Although my conversation with Reilly had prepared me for the idea that Suzy was in bad shape, I was still shocked by what I saw when she came through the door. Shaky on her feet, Suzy was leaning on Reilly, who looked more haggard than normal, his face scratched and bruised. Usually so carefully dressed, Suzy wore a pair of baggy black sweatpants and a too-large pink T-shirt. Both of her eyes were black and her lip had been split open. Her whole face looked as red as if she had spent a day in the sun. Her arms had cuts and bruises as well. I didn’t even want to think about what I couldn’t see.
If it had been me, I would have wanted to be treated normally, not like a victim, so I did the same for her. “Hey Suzy. Looks like I got the easy interviews.”
She slumped into one of the two beige leather chairs and attempted a smile. “I found out who she really is,” she said. “Mae Wang.”
“That’s fantastic.’
“Zhao Mei. A Chinese spy. Her father . . . ” Suzy traile
d off, then looked at Reilly. “My head isn’t working right. You tell it, Mike.”
Reilly shook Colin’s hand. I was so used to Reilly that I hadn’t thought to introduce him. As Reilly filled Colin and me in, I tried not to be pissed about not having been the one to unearth the biggest development in the story so far. Suzy had a scoop, but she’d paid a hell of a price for it.
After Reilly finished, Colin leaned in toward Suzy and took her hand. “You’ve been through a lot,” he said. “Tremendous job. Now, tell us what happened to you?”
“She hasn’t even really told me the details yet,” Reilly said. “Suzy, you OK to talk about it?”
“Yes, I think so. I had been to see Xi, the Chinese guy from the restaurant. The one who knew Mae. I drove back to my place. I had just gotten out of the car when a man came up behind me and hit me in the head with something heavy, maybe a pipe or a short bat. He put his hand over my mouth, then lifted me up and tossed me into a black SUV.
“He taped my mouth, then taped my wrist and ankles.” She paused, then said, “Mike, can you get me some water?”
When he left to get water from the washroom, she said, “This is bad, what happened to me. I am OK with Mike knowing, because we were, you know. But you two have to swear that you will never tell this story.”
“Of course,” Colin said, quickly.
“I can keep a secret,” I added.
“He took me somewhere. It took quite a bit of time to get there, it seemed like that anyway. It was a parking lot. It was in the woods. Dark. I heard crickets and frogs, lots of frogs.
“He wanted to know what I knew about Mae. He called her by her real name. He wanted to know what you knew, too, Kris.”
Reilly came back with the water. “Describe the man to us Suzy.”
“He had on a ski mask, dark clothing. He was burly. Probably six feet or taller.”
Reilly nodded, encouraging her. He and I both knew that her description wasn’t going to help us find the guy.
“Any accents?” he asked. “Was he Chinese?”
“I don’t think so. He sounded a bit different, but I can’t place it.”
“OK, no problem,” Reilly said. “What happened next?”
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