by Don Easton
“What’s that?”
“You were just murdered!”
“What are you talking about?” Jack let out a chuckle and added, “I might have one foot on a grave right now, but I assure you, any rumours of my death are premature.”
“I’m at a homicide in Surrey. Looks like two professional hitters. Silencers used along with motorcycles for their escape. Shot a guy through the heart and then through the head. Also wounded his infant son, who is in critical condition at B.C. Children’s right now.”
“What’s it got to do with me?”
“The victim’s name was Jack Taggart.”
Jack gave Lance a hard stare as he continued to talk. “Maybe it’s a coincidence. Surrey, the guy is probably a —”
“He looks as pure as bottled water. No record. Not even a speeding ticket. Was about to graduate from UBC. Left a wife and two kids. If the little one survives, that is.”
“He was just a student?”
“Older than most. He held a management position with a company five years ago but it dissolved with the economic times. He then went to university to better himself. They were struggling but they both held down part-time jobs and saw it through.”
“What are the mom’s and kids’ names?”
“Holly is the mom. She has a toddler by the name of Jennifer and the baby is named Charlie.”
“Not related to me.”
“Holly said she hadn’t intended to get pregnant with Charlie, as it added to their money worries, but from what I can tell they were still thrilled with Charlie’s arrival.”
Jack didn’t respond as he stared at Lance’s face, waiting for any sign that he knew about the hit.
“Jack? You still there?”
“I’m here, CC.”
“Taking down five labs today — can’t see that being a coincidence. Your name was on all the search warrants.”
Jack watched Lance closely as he spoke into the phone and said, “If Satans Wrath tried to kill me today...” He saw the surprised look on Lance’s face and added, “Hold on.” He walked away so that he could talk in private. “I can’t see Satans Wrath screwing up like this,” he continued. “They know what I look like! It’s either amateurs or just a coincidence.”
“These weren’t amateurs. They were too calm. They’ve done this before. Two guys, each with small-calibre pistols equipped with silencers. Both wearing motorcycle helmets with face visors. Two accomplices were waiting on motorcycles out front. The dad was holding his toddler. They shot through him to get the dad, then took their time and put one in his skull right in front of his wife and four-year-old daughter.”
“But the bikers know me,” was all Jack could think to say, as he looked over at Lance, our supposed inside man at Satans Wrath!
“If it’s not Satans Wrath, it has to be somebody you know! Who is it, Jack?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit! I know you. What have you done?”
chapter two
What have I done! The words echoed in Jack’s head as he walked back to where Danny and Lance were standing. He told Danny what CC had told him, while staring at Lance for his reaction. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Jesus Christ! It wasn’t us! I’d have known!”
Neither Jack nor Danny replied.
“Maybe some stupid fuckers connected to the lower end of the labs. We’ll whack ’em ourselves if it was.”
“I believe you,” said Jack. “Do some digging. If it was meant for me, find out who is behind it!”
“Maybe Bishop is behind it,” offered Lance. “I know he left the country, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t come back or isn’t pulling the strings from someplace else.”
“It’s not Bishop,” said Jack.
“You can’t be sure. Just because —”
“I’m sure,” said Jack firmly. He gave Lance a look that meant there was no doubt about the words he spoke.
Lance had seen that look a few times before. It had been given by men he knew in Satans Wrath. It conveyed a message that could not be said aloud.
Jack and Danny watched Lance leave before heading back to their car. “What do you think?” asked Danny. “You sure it’s not Bishop?”
“Satans Wrath wouldn’t make a mistake like that. I bet when CC digs a little deeper she’ll find out the guy owed money for drugs or gambling or something.”
“We going to call it a night?”
“I was going to drop in on Lucy at the lab. Tell her I appreciate all the extra hours she’s putting in. I heard she already found speed residue on the money that was seized from Silent Sam’s pockets.”
“Let me do that. With what just happened, maybe you should get home to Natasha.”
Jack hurried inside the office as soon as Danny dropped him off and placed a quick call to Natasha. She was concerned but accepted his explanation that he thought it was a coincidence.
“I’ve only been married to you for five months,” she said. “You better not be coming home with any bullet holes in you!”
“Hey, you’re a doctor. You could patch me up.” Her silence told Jack that levity was not an option. “If, by some remote chance, it wasn’t a coincidence, it had to be a moron to make a mistake like this. We’ll find out who did it. In the meantime, make sure nobody pulls into the underground parking behind you. Check the camera before buzzing anybody in.”
“You on your way home?”
“I’m going to drop by B.C. Children’s. Meet the victim’s wife. See if I can get a feel for all this. If her husband is dirty, she’ll know.”
“Jack...”
“What is it?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Jack made his inquiries at the hospital. Charlie Taggart, barely a year old, was in critical condition in the operating room. His mom and sister were both in a private room talking with a hospital counsellor.
The room was not difficult to locate. Jack could hear the crying and sobbing from within. He stood outside and waited. Even if the guy was dirty, listening to this is bloody awful. He decided to stroll down the hallway.
Eventually, Holly, with Jenny wrapped under one arm, left the room. She anxiously glanced at a doctor who approached, but he continued past. She could have stayed in the room with the counsellor but thought it would delay news of her son. Jack watched as she nervously stood in the corridor. When she noticed Jack approaching, she pulled Jenny closer.
Her face ... she hasn’t a clue what is going on. Her eyes are as innocent as her little girl’s. This is somehow a terrible mistake. Her husband shouldn’t be in the morgue ... or Charlie on the operating table.
Jack’s brain screamed at him like two separate entities. They were ripped apart because of me! It’s me who should be in the morgue!
No! It can’t be. This is all a coincidence ... nothing to do with me.
Jack didn’t give his name to Holly but showed her his badge while introducing himself as a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He ushered Holly and Jenny to a waiting area and gently asked for the details of what happened.
Holly’s response was in a monotone as she stared past Jack down the hall. She had told the other officer everything, she said. She opened her purse and handed Jack a business card. Integrated Homicide Investigation Team — Cpl. Connie Crane. Jack gave her the card back.
“I’ll talk with Connie,” said Jack.
“Are you a policeman?” asked Jenny.
“Yes,” replied Jack. He tried to smile at the child but felt awkward to be smiling in front of Holly.
“My name’s Jenny. What’s your name?”
“I should be going,” said Jack, looking at Holly. He stood up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” said Holly.
Jack took a deep breath and then let it out as he sat down again. “My name is Jack Taggart.”
Holly shook her head and said, “No, I asked you what your name is.”
Jack
swallowed, and then explained that Jack Taggart was his name, too.
“That’s my daddy’s name,” said Jenny. “That’s funny!” She laughed and then said, “Isn’t that funny, Mommy?”
Jack looked at Holly and said, “I don’t work on Homicide. I work on an intelligence section dealing with organized crime. Corporal Crane called me to tell me about your husband. She thinks he may have been murdered as a result of mistaken identity.”
“Oh,” Holly said, and then stared past him down the hall. Jack wrote his own phone numbers down for her, including his cell, his office, and his home phones.
“If there is anything, anything at all, that I can do for you. Please ... please call me.”
Holly nodded and gave a perfunctory smile before slipping the information into her purse.
Jack saw the counsellor watching from across the hall and spoke with her as he was leaving.
“I’m a policeman,” he said. “Where’s her family? Why isn’t someone here?”
“Jenny and Charlie are her only family now. Neither she nor her husband had siblings. Her husband’s parents are in a nursing home and her own parents died several years ago.”
“Neighbours? Someone?”
“I asked. She said she didn’t live in the sort of neighbourhood that was conducive to making friends. Sounds like she didn’t have the time or the money to go out. She was either waitressing in a coffee shop or looking after her children while her husband went to school.”
“There has to be somebody!”
“Apparently not. I’ll watch her. She won’t be going anywhere as long as her son is in OR.”
“And if he doesn’t make it?”
The counsellor bit her bottom lip and didn’t reply.
Jack reached for his wallet and said, “If that happens, please call me. I’ll help.” He gave her his business card and included all his numbers.
Jack was just leaving the hospital when he met Connie Crane coming in.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Jack looked at her and said, “That sounds familiar. Think you’ve asked me that before.”
“I did on another investigation, and you didn’t mind your own business then, either.”
“I just wanted to see her. See what she looked like.” “Did you?”
Jack nodded.
“No tattoos,” said Connie. “No weathered face. If her makeup wasn’t smeared all over she would look like what I think she is.”
“How’s that?”
“Innocent!”
Jack sighed. “That’s my read too.”
“So I’m just having a hard time believing your crap that it’s all a coincidence. I want names. Who do you suspect?”
“That’s just it, I don’t suspect anyone.”
“You take down a bunch of Satans Wrath labs today and think it’s all a coincidence?”
“They know me. They also know Natasha and they know we don’t have any children. It’s not them. I have a good source. If it turns out to be some low-level punks working the bottom end of the labs, I’ll find out.”
“These guys were professional. Cold and calculating. They shot him in the heart first. Didn’t care that he was holding his baby. That’s when his wife and daughter showed up. Then they stepped forward and shot him in the back of the head. After that, they just turned and walked away. These were no punks. These bastards have killed before.”
“It still could be a coincidence. Completely unrelated to me.”
“Could be, but I want you to think about it. Tomorrow morning I want a list of possibilities. After that, keep your head low and butt out this time!”
“If this isn’t personal, that is exactly what I intend to do.”
“And if it is?”
Jack turned on his heel and walked away.
chapter three
It was nine o’clock in the morning when Staff Sergeant Luigi “Louie” Grazia strode across the carpeted floor in Assistant Commissioner Isaac’s office and then stopped in front of his desk, waiting for him to look up.
For management purposes, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police was broken down into four regions Canada-wide: Atlantic, Central, North West, and Pacific. Assistant Commissioner Isaac was the criminal operations officer who oversaw all the operational investigations in the Pacific Region.
Louie knew that Isaac deserved the respect that went with his position. He was a shrewd and tireless worker. He could quote policy and legal matters to the point that Louie wondered if it was true that he had a photographic memory. Isaac was also unbending when it came to policy — something that made Louie uncomfortable. His section tended to have many grey areas when it came to what was right or wrong. Well, actually some things are clearly wrong...
Eventually Isaac glanced up and said, “How long have you been in charge of Intelligence, Louie?”
There were three leather upholstered chairs facing Isaac’s desk, but he did not gesture for Louie to sit so he remained standing. “Coming up ten years, sir,” replied Louie casually, trying to get a read on Isaac’s disposition. As usual, Isaac’s face revealed nothing.
“Still plan on retiring this coming summer?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have my thirty-five years in this July.”
Isaac nodded before continuing. “What can you tell me about this Taggart matter? Is the Jack Taggart who works for you the target of someone who wants to kill him?”
“Not that I know of, sir. I-HIT is investigating. I spoke with Jack and he thinks it might all be a coincidence.”
“I want I-HIT, you, and Taggart in my office in one hour for a meeting.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll arrange it.”
Damien, at fifty-three years of age, had done well for someone who had started out with nothing. His home, protected from view by a stone wall, was situated on an estate in one of the most prestigious areas of Vancouver. From the street, one could see only the roof, which was peppered with satellite dishes and antennas. Closed-circuit television cameras mounted in strategic locations outside led to a fortified panic room inside the mansion. A large cast iron gate, electronically controlled, blocked the entrance to the driveway. Damien did not become national president of Satans Wrath Motorcycle Club by being careless ... or weak.
Damien sat at his kitchen table and read the newspaper. It was a quiet time of the day that he enjoyed. His wife, Vicki, who was thirty-five, had borne him three children. Buck was thirteen, and his two sisters, Sarah and Kate, were eleven and eight years old. Damien enjoyed bantering with his children at the breakfast table, but now that they were heading out the door to school, he also enjoyed sitting quietly and catching up on the news.
Vicki had already skimmed the paper today and she watched with interest as her husband flipped to the local news.
Damien let out a snort when he read about the speed labs being connected with Satans Wrath and how the arrests and seizures would have a big impact on the crystal meth supply in the city. Good excuse to raise the price.
Vicki gestured to the article and asked, “Is it a problem?”
Damien shook his head. “They’re always trying to pin crap on us. Actually it’s funny. They think it’s a big deal ... shows how small their cerebral cavities are. I might have to do the usual PR routine to the media. No big deal.”
“The paper said that two members were taken down. Silent Sam and Petro.”
“Silent Sam doesn’t even have his full patch yet. No worries. Leisure Suit Larry will have them out today.”
Vicki suppressed a smile. Leisure Suit Larry was Damien’s pet name for Lawrence Leitch, a lawyer that Satans Wrath kept on retainer.
Vicki noticed Damien turn another page and scan the paper for something else to read. His eyes settled on an article. Seconds later, he slammed the paper down on the table. She saw the pulse beat on the side of his temple and his fist close momentarily. He abruptly stood up and headed for his communications centre in the den. She knew from experience that this was not the
time to ask why.
Vicki reached for the paper. The article was about the murder of a man called Jack Taggart. He was gunned down, leaving behind a wife and two children. One child, an infant, was wounded and still undergoing surgery. His condition was listed as critical. Jack Taggart ... I’ve heard that name before. Isn’t he one of the cops who was in a shootout with the club last year?
In his control centre, Damien rapidly sent a BlackBerry message. Pussy Paul received the message immediately and understood its importance. Pussy Paul controlled the strip clubs for Satans Wrath, but more importantly, he was also responsible for recruiting people who worked in a variety of positions that could benefit Satans Wrath.
Damien’s anger was evident. The message noted that an RCMP Intelligence officer was named Jack Taggart. Not just any officer, but one that had considerable past conflict with the club. Damien capitalized his point: SOMEONE DOES THIS THE SAME DAY AS THE LABS ARE TAKEN DOWN! We don’t need the attention — not now of all times! Contact the mole and find out what Taggart thinks. Are they blaming us? I want the info included with the other delivery. Arrange for me to meet LSL personally.
Pussy Paul knew that the “other delivery” was a copy of an RCMP intelligence report that they were expecting to receive by Thursday. That only gave him two days to find out about this other matter.
Lawrence Leitch checked his watch as the judge released two of his more important clients. They were to return in a week to enter a plea. Leitch was pleased. They had been in jail less than a day. Silent Sam and Petro smirked at each other before giving a curt nod to Leitch. In a week they would enter a not guilty plea and a trial date would be set. With delay tactics, such as having his clients fire him just before the trial, Leitch was confident that he could drag the situation on for at least two years. They would then hire another lawyer from his firm and the games would continue. Who knew what could happen to witnesses during that time?
The court recessed for morning coffee. Leitch used the break to browse through the information he had on the other eleven clients arrested in connection with the speed labs.