by Don Easton
“Not long at all,” replied Connie. “I’ve still got it in my office. I hadn’t got around to returning it yet.”
“Check the monitor,” said Laura. “You better hurry. She’s pacing the room and looks really angry … now she’s looking at the camera … giving us the finger.”
Jack left Laura to monitor Mia and went down the hall with Connie to retrieve the file.
“You said the wheels fell off your plan?” asked Connie as she handed Jack the file box.
“After her response, I’m not sure if I should hint that I’m a dirty cop,” replied Jack. “She’s liable to try and rip my face off.”
“So how will you play it?”
“At this point I don’t know. I’ll be flying by the seat of my pants.”
Jack entered the interview room holding another file box with both hands. Mia stood squarely in front of him with her hands on her hips, before pointing a finger at his chest and saying, “I’m done. Either return me to my car or let me call a lawyer immediately!”
“I’ll drive you back to your car if you like,” said Jack, “but this box I’m holding contains all the information we have surrounding your father’s death. Corporal Crane pulled it out to review when she first started working on you. Would you like to see it?”
Mia was taken back and her mouth briefly flopped open. She saw the name Parker scrawled on the side of the box in a black felt pen, along with a file number. She felt excitement at the prospect, then hesitated and said, “Sure, I want to see it. Although more importantly, I would like to see whatever part you took out of it that you don’t want me to see.”
“Except for exhibits, which are locked in a vault, everything else is right here,” replied Jack.
Yeah, like I believe that …
“Even the actual exhibits will be described in the documentation on file,” continued Jack. “It will take a while. Sit and we’ll start reading reports from the beginning.”
Mia, with Jack sitting beside her, started reading the reports, beginning at the initial emergency call to when the police arrived at the scene. Jack took a manila envelope from the box, peeked inside it, then quietly placed it back in the box before retrieving the reports that followed.
“What’s that?” demanded Mia, suspiciously. “What aren’t you showing me?”
“Photos of the scene,” replied Jack, “similar to those ones,” he added, gesturing to the photos still on the table of Betty Donahue’s murder. “You are welcome to look at them, but they are extremely grisly. If you decide you want to see them, I would prefer you wait until you have read all the reports.”
“Why?” she snapped. “Show them to me.”
“Try and cool it with the attitude, will you? You’ve got a real chip on your shoulder.”
Mia glared in response.
“The reason I would prefer you to wait,” continued Jack, “is because I want your brain to be as focused and sharp as possible while you are reading the reports. Seeing the photos may cause your brain to lose its clarity and logic while analyzing the investigative steps that were taken.”
Mia felt surprise. Surprise that what Jack said made sense … and was to her advantage. “Oh … I see,” she replied. “Then I’ll wait.” She cast a glance at Jack. Is he being honest? Doesn’t he realize that there was a cover-up?
Two hours ticked past as Mia read countless reports from numerous people who were interviewed, including pedestrians, other drivers, and shoppers in nearby stores. Most of the actual witness statements were similar. It was a bleak winter rainy day in Richmond and her father was walking across the street after work when he was killed.
A man driving a blue car sped up the left turn lane before veering in front of the cars stopped at the red light and struck her father in the crosswalk, sending him flying head-first into the car’s windshield and up and over the back of the car. The car continued on without stopping, but was found twenty minutes later. It had been reported stolen.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was reported stolen,” said Mia, “right after he killed my dad. Who owned it?”
“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” replied Jack. “It happens all too often, but I am positive that would have been looked into. Let’s keep reading.”
The next page reported that the car had been reported stolen shortly before the hit and run. The statement from the woman who owned the car said she left it running outside a nearby daycare as she went in to get her young son. It was a habit she admitted to doing in wintertime, but said she would never do again.
Mia clenched her jaw as her frustration grew. Her excitement returned when a report noted a profile of the man driving the car had been obtained from a security camera at a nearby gas station. She looked anxiously at Jack, who nodded and pulled out another manila envelope.
They both looked at the pictures. One photo was taken farther back, showing a blue car in amongst city traffic. Other photos showed close-ups of the blue car and a profile of a man could be seen, but not enough to identify him.
“It’s the same car,” said Jack, quietly.
Mia looked at the picture closer and saw the big spider-webbed break in the front windshield and felt sickened when she imagined the impact her dad’s head would have made.
“I was told there is more about the pictures later,” said Jack, “but let’s keep reading to see what was done to solve this.”
Mia continued to read. The stolen car was located a short time later in an alley, but Forensics were unable to come up with any evidence. Potential delivery vans who frequented the alley were contacted with negative results. Numerous people were interviewed from the area of where the car was stolen, but it was raining and nobody took the time to notice anything suspicious or anyone loitering in the area. Eventually the file went dormant.
“What does S-U-I mean at the bottom of the report?” asked Mia.
“It means it is still under investigation. The file was never closed,” said Jack. “There is one more bit of information left to look at,” he said, reaching into the box again. “It was reviewed five years ago. An investigator felt with new technology that the photo could be enhanced some more … but don’t get your hopes up. I was told that the enhanced photo was run through the driver’s licence database for facial recognition without result.
“Can I see the enhanced photo?” asked Mia.
Jack nodded and hauled several photos out of an envelope and briefly looked at them. Mia could see that something in the photos caught Jack’s attention and he glanced at her, before examining the photos further.
“They are of the same picture taken twenty-five years ago, but of different ranges of close-up,” he said. “They appear to be of a man of about forty years old. Short black hair and a magnified image notes that he had three small moles on his lower left jaw.”
Mia nodded. “Can I see?”
Jack handed her the photographs and she gasped. This cannot be! She looked at Jack for clarification. “He’s Chinese!”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Once Mia got over her initial shock, she studied the enhanced photos carefully while matching them with the other photos taken twenty-five years previous. The pictures seem genuine … the same car … a far-off picture of the original car shows other vehicles … of similar vintage. Even the price of gas on the sign is really cheap. She stared at Jack in bewilderment and repeated, “He’s Chinese.”
Jack nodded. “Not unusual, though. It happened in Richmond, which has an ethnic Chinese population base of over forty-five percent.”
Mia shook her head as she stared at the picture. All my life we thought … this can’t be true …
“Are you okay?” asked Jack, sympathetically patting her on the back.
“Could I have a copy of one of these pictures to show my mom?” she blurted, then quickly added, “No, never mind.”
“All these years your mother thought the man responsible for her husband … your father’s death … was some mucky-muck the police refused
to charge. Isn’t that right?”
Mia shrugged in response.
“Helps explain the chip on your shoulder,” said Jack. “Regardless of whether or not you co-operate with me, I’ll give you a copy,” he said, putting the photo into an envelope and holding it out to her.
“Why?” replied Mia, sullenly, folding her arms across her chest in refusal.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” replied Jack. “Think how angry you’ve been all these years … for your mother, I am sure it was far worse. She has a right to know that everything was done to solve the case. Maybe when you tell her what you have seen and show her the picture, it will bring her some peace of mind.”
“It would bring more peace of mind if he was caught and charged,” said Mia, bitterly.
“I agree, but maybe this will help,” he said, holding the photo closer. When she shook her head he added, “From a police perspective, there is not a problem, any more than there would be putting out a wanted poster.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll show her later,” said Mia, accepting the envelope.
“You have no intention of showing it to her, do you?” stated Jack abruptly.
“What do you mean?” she asked defiantly.
“Let me guess,” said Jack, “you haven’t told her about your drug charge, have you?”
Mia took time to take a deep breath. She realized her anger was really at herself, more than at Jack for figuring that out. Okay … get a grip … She stared blankly at Jack for a moment, then grimaced and shook her head. “I don’t want her to worry.”
“She’s your mom. Don’t you think you owe it to her to tell the truth about the police investigation into your dad’s death?”
“That was a long time ago. My drug charge is current. Even though I’m innocent, it would still cause her to worry.”
“Does she know you were in a car accident?”
“Yes … and that I was charged with driving without due care.”
“Tell her you expressed anger when you were being charged that whoever killed your father was allowed to go free. Tell her you were brought in and shown the file. She would not need to know anything else.”
“But what if she checked or had questions of her own and called?”
“I could look after that. The file is still in the domain of Corporal Crane.” Jack stared up at the monitor and added, “I’m sure she wouldn’t deny doing something that was morally the right thing to do.”
Connie stared back at the camera monitor. Sure Jack … if it doesn’t involve someone being murdered …
Mia sighed and momentarily fiddled with the envelope holding the picture.
“Are you going to show her?” asked Jack.
“Yes … thank you.” Her thoughts were distracted when she heard her iPhone buzz in her jacket pocket.
“Go ahead and answer, if you like,” said Jack.
Mia remembered she hadn’t returned Wolfenden’s call. “No, I’ll get it later,” she said. The thought of being with him enhanced how sick she currently felt.
“So ask yourself,” said Jack, with a nod toward the file box, “you’ve spent hours reading the file. You’re a smart person. Did you see any gaps in the investigation or any reason to believe something was covered up? Would so many people have been interviewed and would the file still be looked at periodically if that were the case?”
Mia swallowed and didn’t respond.
“Who told you it was a political cover-up?” asked Jack.
Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. It was something somebody said to my mother. She believed it and told me.”
“People say stupid things,” said Jack. “However, I’m sure we could compare the photo to the politicians of the time. There are bound to be photos of them on the Internet somewhere. Can’t be too many Asians in government back then.”
“Don’t bother,” replied Mia. “I’m taking political science. I know my history and I’m familiar with their faces, both past and present. The photo doesn’t match anyone.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” replied Jack. “I do know of cases where there was political influence in the justice system, but that usually took place in court where politically appointed judges do a favour for someone. In my experience, the police file contains the truth. Between you and me, most Mounties outside of Ottawa don’t see eye to eye with too many politicians.”
Mia took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She felt conflicted and tried to refocus on the real reason she had been hauled in. My dad’s death has nothing to do with that.
“Didn’t your mother ever voice her concern to the police?” asked Jack.
Mia scowled. “She believed they were corrupt … so why bother,” she replied defensively.
“This isn’t China,” muttered Jack. By the glare he got from Mia he knew his utterance was a tactical error. “We seem to have gone off track” he said. “As far as you and Benny Wong go, I would strongly suggest you start to co-operate with me before Corporal Crane decides it’s time to charge you with complicity in Betty Donahue’s murder.”
Mia unconsciously bit her lower lip as she thought. Okay … the games are back on again. First of all, I didn’t know about the murder … the police are desperate … they can’t convict me … but what do they know about Mr. Frank? Do they think he is some peon who is working for Wong?
“I don’t see you as being a really bad person,” said Jack. “You’re a university student … tuition fees are always going up … someone offered you a chance to make some easy money and you probably never realized what you were getting yourself into. Now that you’re in this mess, help me so I can help you get out of it.”
“And how do you think I am connected to Benny Wong?” asked Mia.
It was a fair question, but one Jack had hoped he wouldn’t be asked. He had to speculate. If he was right, his knowledge might scare her into co-operating. If he was wrong, it would reinforce her belief that the police had nothing. “I should tell you that I’m not the main investigator on the Intelligence Unit who has been working on Wong,” he replied. “My facts might be a little off, but from what I understand, you have been passing on information to help Wong with his commercial and business investments.”
Mia felt uneasy. He’s close … but Wong has nothing to do with it …
“And, perhaps, hoping to give Wong an insider advantage with our federal government,” added Jack.
Oh, fuck … Mia tried to look puzzled, but had the feeling that Jack wasn’t buying it. “This all seems really preposterous,” she said. “How on earth would I get any information about those things, let alone have contacts in political office? Do you really think my profs who are teaching me political science are introducing me to politicians? That’s absurd!”
“I’m fully aware of who lives in the house with you,” said Jack. “The Rolstads both work for Maple Leaf Consulting, with offices in Vancouver and Ottawa. Let’s face it. They’re spin doctors. How much of their work do they bring home and talk about? With your majors at university, I bet you even volunteer to help them, perhaps on the pretext of being hired when you’re done university.”
Mia’s thoughts tumbled wildly in her brain.
“I haven’t approached the Rolstads yet to let them know what you’re up to,” continued Jack. “I want to give you the opportunity to co-operate first.”
Mia gave a pert grin to hide her fear. “Go ahead, but if you approach the Rolstads with false accusations about me, I’ll sue you and the RCMP for so much money that you’ll all be back riding horses.”
Jack acted like he didn’t hear her. “There is another reason you may wish to co-operate. Somehow Wong discovered we identified three of the people connected to killing Betty Donahue. His response was to have them all killed. What do you think he will do to you when he finds out what we know? He’ll look at you as another link to him. Another person who could decide to make themselves look good by testifying against him.”
Jack expected to see some alarm
on her face … but he didn’t. She’s got nerves of steel …
Mia knew she had nothing to fear from Wong. He wouldn’t dare to cross paths with the benefactor … but what should I do? I will be finished as an agent … and so will Mom if they continue to probe deeper.
Jack had used up all his cards but one. “I’ll give you a moment to think about it,” he said, getting to his feet and reaching into the file box to retrieve the manila envelope containing the photos of her father taken at the scene of the hit and run. “These are the pictures of your father after he was killed. Take your time and look at them, but realize they are only photos taken of a man who to you is barely a memory.”
“A memory? He was still my father!” said Mia, hotly.
“Yes, but try to imagine how Nancy Brighton … that ‘old bag’ as you described her … felt when she was there in person to see her sister splattered along the sidewalk. Fortunately for you and your mother, you didn’t have to go through that experience.” Jack paused, then quietly added, “Actually, me saying going through that experience is wrong. I don’t think you ever do get through it.”
Mia stared at Jack, then quietly accepted the envelope.
“I’ll give you a moment alone to think about this, but if there is any shred of decency in you, I know that you will co-operate because in your heart, you know it is the right thing to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Any thoughts on something I should have done differently?” asked Jack, as he stepped back into the monitoring room.
Connie sighed and shook her head. “Psychologically, you played it far tougher than I would ever have been allowed.” She pointed to the monitor and said, “Look … she’s looking at all her dad’s pictures, but not displaying anything more than curiosity. No trembling, no tears.”
“She was only three,” noted Jack. “I doubt she has much in the way of memories, other than equating it with how tough it was on her mom as a single parent.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Laura.