by Easton, Don
“Oh man, a bear …” said Laura.
“Isn’t a bear,” said Jack, lowering the binoculars. “It’s a man and he’s hotfooting it down the road away from us. Come on, let’s get ’em!”
Jack and Laura scrambled out onto the road and chased after the man, who had about a thirty-second lead on them. The distance was narrowing until the man looked back and realized he was being pursued.
Jack and Laura turned on their flashlights and continued the chase. Jack’s phone vibrated as he ran and he took the call. It was from the DEA who told him Peltier, along with an American, were both in custody. The American had reached for a handgun in his belt, but changed his mind when one of the agents fired a warning shot.
“Great, no time to talk further,” panted Jack. “Got a runner we’re chasing on foot.”
“Coming our way?” asked the DEA agent.
“Not yet. He’s on the road parallel to the border … no, he just veered off northbound into the trees. Gotta go!”
Jack and Laura were only about fifteen seconds behind the man from where he took off into the forest, but fifteen seconds can be a long time when it’s dark and you’re amongst a mixture of heavy bush and trees.
They followed the noise the man was making for a few seconds, but then it got quiet.
“He’s laid down someplace,” whispered Jack.
“What about back-up or canine?” suggested Laura.
“Will take too long. He has to be close. I have an idea.”
The man crouched behind a tree, desperately trying to control his panting. He watched as the two flashlight beams cut through the darkness and could hear a woman’s voice talking to her partner. He waited until they were a good thirty seconds past him before standing up and quietly making his way back toward the road. He had only taken a few steps when a man loomed up in front of him and stuck a Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic pistol in his face.
Chapter Five
Laura, who was simulating two people walking by holding her arms outstretched from her sides with a flashlight in each hand, heard Jack yell for her to return. She stopped the one-sided conversation she had been having and headed back. When she arrived, she saw Jack standing over a man who was lying on the ground with his hands cuffed behind his back.
Laura watched as Jack got the man to his feet. He had a shaved head with a large diamond stud in one ear. She guessed him to be in his early thirties. They marched him back out to the road and Jack then took the man’s wallet and checked his driver’s licence.
“Virgil Cruickshank,” said Jack, smiling at Laura.
Laura smiled back. Virgil was in all probability the Big V who was Peltier’s boss.
“What’s more,” said Jack, hauling a set of car keys out of Virgil’s pocket, “is we have keys to a BMW. A silver BMW I bet,” he added, while staring at Virgil.
“Big deal, I like to go for a walk at night in the forest,” said Virgil. “Brings me back to nature. You don’t have any grounds to arrest me for anything.”
“Where’s your car, Virgil?” asked Jack.
“Hidden in some bushes about a ten-minute walk down the road.”
“Hidden?” replied Laura.
“Can’t be too careful when you go for a walk,” sneered Virgil. “Could be criminals out this time of night. Which is why I ran from you guys.”
Twenty minutes later, Virgil sat handcuffed in the back of the SUV. He was being guarded by Laura while Jack searched the BMW.
Jack found a booklet in the glove box that contained maps of the lower mainland. He checked it to see if there were any marks to indicate areas of interest along the border. There weren’t, including the area they were in. He did notice one oddity: five of the pages in the booklet had the page number crossed off, not in sequence, but between four and five pages apart. He made a notation in his notebook of the general locations on the map of each page that had been crossed off. He then put the booklet back and searched the trunk. Under the spare tire he found a scabbard that held a large jungle knife with a serrated back.
Jack returned to the SUV. “Hey, Virgil, mind telling me what you use this for?” he asked, sliding the knife out of the scabbard.
“Yeah, no problem. I like to go camping. Like I said, I enjoy nature. Now, if you are going to arrest me, then do so and let me call my lawyer. Otherwise, let me go.”
“Laura, step out for a minute, there’s something we need to discuss,” said Jack, shoving the knife back into its sheath and sticking it into his belt.
“What now?” asked Laura quietly, when she got out of the SUV and closed the door. “Is the knife all you found?”
“He did have a map booklet with a few page numbers crossed off, but nothing to do with the border areas.”
“We’ll never get a conviction without something more than him being in the area. Even if we get phone records … it won’t be enough.”
“I know,” replied Jack.
“Peltier was careful enough not to store any dope at his house,” noted Laura. She gestured with her thumb toward Virgil. “He’s even farther up the chain than Peltier. You can bet we won’t get much from searching his place, either.”
“I agree, but he doesn’t know how much we know.” Jack eyed Virgil, who was sneering at them from the SUV. “He’s putting on a tough act, but you can bet his ass is puckered. Let’s try and turn him.”
“Pull a bluff?” asked Laura
“You got it.”
Jack opened the door to the back of the SUV and grabbed Virgil by the arm and hauled him out.
“You letting me go?” said Virgil, optimistically.
“No, you’re going down for drug trafficking,” said Jack.
“Drug trafficking? That’s bullshit!” said Virgil, giving a fake laugh. “You got nothing on me. Go ahead, throw me in the slammer for the night. I’ll be out by morning.”
“Boy, do you have that wrong,” said Jack. “Any idea how much time you’re going to get for masterminding shipments of meth into the U.S.? Your buddy Peltier is looking at a minimum of ten years if he cooperates, which of course he will. But he was only a courier. You’re looking at double what he will get.”
“There’s no way,” replied Virgil, not sounding as confident as he did earlier. “Am I supposed to know Peltier?”
“You would be surprised at what we have,” said Jack. “And the judges in the U.S. aren’t quite as gullible or lenient as the ones up here.”
“The U.S.?” Virgil asked.
“Guess you’re not familiar with how much time you serve in the U.S. when you co-operate versus when you don’t. Your contacts down there will be fighting with each other to be the first to rat. You being caught watching the deal go down is icing on the cake.”
“Watching what?” Virgil protested. “Like I said, I was out for a walk. I like owls and try to see them at night. If you’re saying some criminals got caught in the States, well, they’re criminals. Who would believe what they say? Like I said, you don’t have the grounds to arrest me, let alone get me deported.”
“Yeah, yeah,” replied Jack. “Come on, we need to walk down the road.”
“Where ya taking me?”
“Someone else will be taking you to jail,” replied Jack.
Minutes later, Virgil looked more apprehensive when they turned off the road and crossed the ditch toward the U.S. border.
“Now what are you doing?” Virgil demanded.
“Just a sec,” said Jack. “I was talking to the DEA when I was chasing you. They don’t know I’ve caught you yet.”
Jack walked a short distance away and pretended to use his phone. “Yeah, listen, the guy I’m chasing just entered the U.S. He’s right in front of me. I could have him within ten seconds if I jump the border. Want me to grab him and hold him for you? … Got it.” Jack looked at Laura as he put his phone away and said, “Permission granted!”
“What the fuck! You can’t do that! I’m a Canadian on Canadian soil. This is Canada,” Virgil said, sto
mping his foot on the ground for emphasis.
“You’re confused,” said Jack. “You obviously got turned around in the dark when you tried to elude us. Isn’t that right, Laura?”
“Oh, for sure. If you listen close, the wind in the trees even sounds like it is saying, y’all.”
“You might want to brush up on your American jailhouse slang,” said Jack. “Things like, ‘Yo’ bitch, I drop da soap. Y’all bend over and pick it up for Papa.’”
“You … you can’t do this,” pleaded Virgil taking a step backwards.
“Can and we will,” said Jack, while placing a simple wrist-lock on Virgil’s wrist with which even a slight amount of pressure brought him enough pain to rise to his tip-toes. “Now, be a good boy and keep walking south.”
“No, please …” said Virgil, trying to push backwards. After emitting a yelp of pain he stopped resisting.
“I guess there is one thing that could save your sorry ass,” said Jack gruffly. “I do hate giving the Yanks all the glory. Do you know someone more worthy than you that we could bust in Canada?”
“What do you mean?” asked Virgil. “Are you saying you won’t bust me if I give you someone?”
“That’s what I’m saying. But you would have to come clean with us on everything. Whoever you give us has to be a lot bigger than you. Not some peon you have running a lab somewhere. I’m talking big.”
“Oh fuck,” mumbled Virgil as his brain reeled over what he should do.
“Don’t have all night,” said Jack.
“I know some guys … but if they ever found out …”
“I promise, if you are completely straight with us, we will never burn you and your identity will be kept secret.”
“So you’re not asking me to testify or something?”
“No, not if you don’t want to,” said Jack. “As long as we catch who we’re after.”
“We would need to know everything about what you have been doing,” said Laura.
“Everything?” replied Virgil.
“As long as you’re being straight with us, we don’t care what you are up to, as long as the end result is putting a bigger fish in jail,” said Jack.
“But then you would bust me,” replied Virgil.
Jack shook his head. “Any criminal acts you have done up to now, you can tell us about and we won’t bust you for them or turn you in, but at the same time, you won’t have immunity if you are caught by some other cop. We both work for an Intelligence Unit. Knowing how things work … different trends, is important to us. It is also crucial to coming up with a plan.”
“A plan for what?”
“A plan to prevent you from being identified if we bust someone you give us.”
Virgil’s expression said he liked that idea.
“Any future criminal activity some organization might expect you to do would have to be cleared through us first,” continued Jack. “This is strictly between the three of us. What can you give us?”
“I … I’m not sure where to start. How to get you the proof.”
“Let us worry about that,” said Jack. “Right now any conversation is off the record. Start by telling us how many kilos of meth were delivered tonight.”
Virgil swallowed and said, “Twenty-eight.”
“And how many altogether so far this year?” prodded Jack.
“Ah … I’m not sure. About twenty or thirty keys a month so … this is May … so maybe about a hundred and twenty-five counting tonight.”
“Simple math,” said Jack. “Who can you give us that deals in, say two-hundred and fifty kilos in about the same amount of time?”
“It isn’t that simple,” said Virgil.
“You must know other dealers who are bigger than you,” said Laura.
“Not really,” whined Virgil. “I stay independent from the gangs. Figure it’s safer. From them and from you guys.”
“Too bad,” said Jack. “Guess we may as well keep walking south.”
“But I know about something else,” said Virgil quickly.
“I’m listening,” replied Jack.
Virgil paused, hesitant to talk until Jack grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a shove to start walking again. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I know about some murders. Isn’t that more important than running meth?”
“Maybe … maybe not,” replied Jack. “Thought you said you weren’t into the gangs. What are we talking? Is it related to all these gang shootings we’ve been having?”
“No, no. Nothing to do with that. I’m talking straight dudes being killed for money by some guys.”
“Straight dudes?” questioned Laura.
“Yeah, yeah. Citizens.”
“Exactly how many murders are we talking about?” asked Jack.
“Five so far and three more are planned.”
“Over how long of a time frame?” asked Jack.
“Uh … gotta think. I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I think it started about eight years ago. It was Christmastime, I remember that.”
“And you’re saying the victims had nothing to do with criminal matters?” said Laura.
“No, I told you. These are straight dudes. Some were married and had kids. They were chumps.” Virgil looked at Jack and said, “If I tell you who is doing it, is that enough?”
“Not if I don’t get the evidence to charge them,” said Jack. “I need to hear more. I want details so I can get proof and know you’re being straight with me. Give me the names of the victims so I can at least check out the murders to know what you’re telling me isn’t complete bullshit.”
Virgil sighed and said, “I don’t know their names. I only met the first guy … and that was eight years ago at a hotel in Los Angeles. I don’t even remember his name, but what I am telling you is the truth.”
“These are American murders?” asked Jack.
“I was told three of the chumps were American, one was British, and one Canadian.”
“One Canadian?” queried Jack.
Virgil nodded. “A guy from Vancouver. Out of the next three planned, at least two of them will be Canadian, as well. The murders were all made to look accidental so there wouldn’t be much of an investigation.”
“This sounds like a load of crap,” said Laura. “Come on, Jack. Make him move faster for wasting our time.”
“It is true! I swear,” pleaded Virgil. His eyes filled with tears. “It is true, it’s just … I don’t know how you could prove it. I am only going by what I was told, but I know the guy who told me was telling the truth.”
“Maybe you think it is true,” said Jack, “but what if it was some goof trying to impress you? The whole story might be bullshit.”
“No way. I know him really well. In fact, I could maybe find out who their next victim is going to be. If you watch the guy, you will see he dies of something within a month or two after I point him out to you.”
“You’ll probably kill him yourself,” said Jack.
“No way! If you’re watching the guy, you would catch who kills him.”
Jack stared at Laura for a moment and shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t necessarily believe Virgil, it was because Virgil actually thought they would let someone be murdered.
Laura looked at Jack and gestured with her hands. What do we do?
“We need some form of credibility from you,” said Jack, stabbing a finger into Virgil’s chest. “What drug stash can you give us immediately? Something as a gesture of good faith.”
“I don’t have any,” blubbered Virgil. “Everything I had went across the border tonight. I need, like two or three weeks, then you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. I could find out who the next victim is. Then when he dies you would have your proof. Just hold off a bit from, uh, deporting me tonight.”
“If what you are saying is true, a murder investigation could take months or longer. How do we know you won’t use the time to run off to Venezuela or something?” said Jack.
“I won’
t.”
“You need to give us something,” said Jack. “We need credibility to know you are not lying to us before we let you go. I don’t even care if … I don’t know, maybe one night you killed someone who was your competition. Anything. Something we can verify to know you’re being straight with us and then we’ll let you go.”
Virgil swallowed and looked closely at Jack and said, “You said you wouldn’t bust me for something I did, or tell any other cops … as long as I was giving you something more important … right?”
“That’s what I said! Quit screwin’ around. Out with it.”
“So, like some guys who have murdered five people and plan on doing three more is pretty important, right?”
“Yes, it would be important if it was true,” said Jack in exasperation.
“Okay then … so those murders would trump … say, a rape, right?”
Jack felt the bile erupt into the back of his throat as his stomach tensed in anticipation of what he knew he was about to hear.
Chapter Six
Amanda awoke and saw a figure moving toward her in the darkened bedroom. She screamed while hysterically pushing herself backward on the cot.
“Amanda!” yelled Wendy. “It’s me!” she added, while frantically clawing at the wall to turn on the light switch.
“Oh, God,” sobbed Amanda, covering her eyes with her hands. “I was asleep and woke up. I thought —”
“I’m sorry,” cried Wendy. “I heard one of the kids and went to check. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Mommy!” cried out Megan, running into the room and leaping on the cot to hug her mother. “Is the bad man back?” she asked, looking around in panic.
“No, sweetie,” replied Amanda, holding Megan tight while trying to get her own body to stop shaking.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Amanda kissed Megan on the cheeks several times before using the corner of a sheet to wipe the tears from Megan’s eyes. “I was having a bad dream. Everything is okay.”
“Were you dreaming about the bad man?”
“No, honey. Forget about the bad man. Everything is okay.”