by Glenn Muller
“Don’t worry about me,” he yelled after the chopper. “I’m okay. Really.”
CHAPTER 52
Fenn had left mere moments before Abes got a response to his transmission and the police helicopter flashed overhead. Ground support was only minutes away. Kim attended to the officer as best as she could. His wound didn’t appear to be fatal, the shot having dispersed enough to pepper him rather than create a single traumatic entry point. She gave him the bottle of water and he smiled at the irony of it.
The chopper circled once and then took up station over the gorge. The beating rotors had drowned out the sound of the ATV traversing the lower part of the trail but the radio chatter soon made it plain that the vehicle and its occupants had gone into the river. Tense moments followed as visual reports of Jenner and Fenn being swept downstream could not verify their survival. Finally, the announcement came that both men were out of the water but on opposite shores.
Voices could also be heard in the woods.
“I can hear your support team coming down the trail,” Kim said. “If you think it’s all right to leave you here, I want to make sure Fenn is okay.”
Abes shook his head. “Sorry, Ma’am. This whole operation has been to secure your safety. I can’t allow you to head off into a possibly dangerous situation, again.”
Kim used the edge of the blanket to wipe blood from her hand. “I appreciate what you’ve done. You guys are heroes. But if one of your team needed assistance, you wouldn’t wait for someone else to help. You’d get there as fast as you could.”
“Of course, but we have people already on scene.”
She got the other bottle of water from the pack and placed it beside him. “Flying around in a helicopter doesn’t count when my friend could be injured on the ground. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow your bicycle.”
== == ==
Bailey was just getting into his distance pace, breathing easily, everything in rhythm. Sutton was staying with him but his technique was poor and he was starting to labour. They’d received terse reports of a shootout in the woods and an officer down; apparently the same fellow Bailey had found tending to the injured suspect on the second floor of the house. Those undercover guys were something else.
There was still a potential hostage situation, and with two armed males to apprehend it remained an active mission. Bailey was cresting a rise near the rim of a gorge when the chopper reported action down at the river. He could hear the helicopter hovering east of their position, just beyond a break in the trees. He waited for Sutton to catch up.
“Gil, you stay with the trail. Officer Abes should be right around that bend. The medic is on his way. I just want to see if there’s a quicker way down to the river from that ridge.”
Sutton acknowledged and jogged on. Bailey left the path and headed to where open sky beyond the trees indicated a drop off. He reached the edge of it and, down below, could see the continuation of the trail. There was a small wooden hut and beyond that the river. The water was muddy and moving quickly past the strip of rocky beach. Near the middle, the flow surged around the overturned ATV and the large submerged rock it was up against.
A man on the beach was also looking at it.
Bailey brought his rifle up and looked through the telescopic site. It had to be one of the two suspects who had gone into the river. His hair and jacket were wet and, strangely, he wasn’t wearing pants. All he had on from the waist down were his sodden boots and white underwear. That water must be really turbulent.
“This is Delta 1. I have one of the swimmers in view.”
“Roger Delta 1. Stay with him.”
The man turned to walk up the beach and Bailey now saw he had a bag. Perhaps his pants were in there. The man stopped again and bent over. Bailey lowered the site to follow the man’s hand. It grasped a shotgun.
“Delta 1. The swimmer has a shotgun. Repeat. The swimmer has a shotgun.”
“Acquire target, Delta 1. Maintain contact.”
Acquire target. Maintain contact.
Bailey brought the man’s face into sharp focus behind the etched reticles of the sight. Accuracy was not in question at this range. Head or heart. He could even aim for the neck and sever the man’s spinal column. All three would be instant kills though the spinal column would take more finesse.
Have you ever shot a suspect?
No.
Would you really kill somebody?
Yes.
The man was standing upright now, almost still. He had a mole on his neck. Bailey curled his finger around the trigger. The script for those hockey night bull sessions was about to be rewritten.
== == ==
Kim skidded to a stop at the warming hut and dumped the bike. She ran inside but their sanctuary from the night before was empty. She ran down the access path to the river, spotting the marks the ATV had left and the disturbed stones where it had careened into the water. Just downriver she saw it, or rather the part of the roll cage that wasn’t submerged and one wheel.
The helicopter was hovering over the far bank just past the rapids. Then she noticed Fenn. He was bending over something on the beach.
“Chas!”
He straightened up but didn’t react to her call. The combined noise from the chopper and the river was pretty loud. She called again and waved her arms. Now he saw her. He had something in each hand so didn’t wave back but he did start walking toward her. There was something different about him.
“My kilt,” she muttered. Then, “Chas, where’s my kilt?”
Fenn looked down at his bare legs and gave a crooked grin. “Um, well. It’s like this.”
“Like what?”
“It was, um, a casualty of war.”
“Geez. I knew I should have kept it on.”
“At least you’ve got pants to wear,” protested Fenn, swinging the shotgun around to point at her jeans. A second later there was a loud crack from above and Fenn fell to the ground, the bag landing in front of him. Kim took two staggered steps before her legs gave way and she fell to her knees.
Oh, God. No.
She put her face in her hands and started to weep. She could take no more.
CHAPTER 53
Monday, November 2nd, 10:15 a.m.
Asha stood beside the coffin and dabbed the corner of her eye with a tissue. Fenn looked peaceful in repose, hands folded on his chest and his head on the little silk pillow. She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Good night, Sweet Prince,” she said, and closed the lid.
Asha turned to the funeral attendant standing patiently at her side. “Is there any way to lock these things?”
The man gave her an understanding smile and shook his head.
“Too bad.”
“I heard that,” came a muffled voice from behind her. The coffin lid opened and Fenn sat up. “We’ll take this one. Now, where do you keep the urns?” He climbed out and sat on a chair to put his boots back on.
“If this is none of my business, Chas, then say so,” Asha said, “but I don’t understand why you’re going to such expense to bury your father. I mean, he wasn’t there for most of your life, and when he did show up he dumped a world of trouble in your lap.”
Fenn thought about that while he tied his laces.
“You are absolutely right—it appears that he was a self-serving bastard who used me solely for his own agenda. However, I also think he wanted to make amends. He chose a strange way to go about it—damn near tragic for those I care about—yet, in the end, it did bring you and I together.” He stood up but wasn’t finished.
“It’s hard to know who you are until you know where you came from. I still have unanswered questions, but I also have to believe my father had some redeeming qualities. At least by taking care of his funeral I get some closure. Does that make sense?”
Both of her hands in his, Asha stood facing him, her dark eyes beginning to glisten as they studied his face.
“Yes. It does. Though I
want you in my life because you’re a good guy regardless of where you came from. I guess what I don’t understand is where you’re going to get the money to pay for all of this.”
“You don’t, but you will.” Fenn reached over and tapped on a black onyx box with his finger. “We’ll take this for his ashes.”
“Very nice choice, sir.” The attendant made a note on a small pad he kept discreetly in his hand. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
There wasn’t. Fenn arranged to come back later to sign the paperwork and settle up, then he and Asha left to attend their next meeting of the morning.
“Did that not feel odd to you, doing business with a funeral home, after what happened with Harrowport & Dynes?”
Fenn laughed. “No. H&D were crooked but I’m sure that this place is okay. Though, I have to say, today’s visit wasn’t nearly as exciting as last week’s encounter.”
“Poor dear,” said Asha, patting his hand. “Death can be so dull.”
== == ==
The meeting room at the Halton Regional Police Headquarters could seat about thirty and was half full. Side by side in wheelchairs were Officer Joe Abes with a female constable in attendance, and Tony Demmers with Kim Klaasen doting over him. Abes simply had a blanket over his hips but Demmers, with a neck brace, back brace, and casts on both his left arm and leg really did look like he’d been thrown from a car.
The other people that Fenn recognized were Elaine and Larry Tillart, the owner of Dusty’s Motel and Bar, and Dieter and Carole from DriveCheck.
Asha gave Fenn a nudge.
“Do John and Yoko seem a bit paranoid to you?”
Fenn grinned. The Lundsens, both wearing sunglasses, were uncharacteristically quiet. There was a sound of laughter at the door and two women followed by three men entered the room. They were in business attire and all took a seat except for one of the men.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Folks. I’m Detective Inspector Evan Lareault. I’ll introduce my associates as we go. First of all, thank-you for attending this meeting. You have all been through a lot and have patiently answered our questions. This session is so that we can answer some of yours.
“When illegal activity comes to our attention it can be just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Organized crime is especially complicated, interwoven as it is in several different areas. In many cases, one offence is often the catalyst for others.
“Originally, my department was investigating two murders, the emergence of a new street drug, and a funeral home suspected of stealing jewellery and charging for services not performed. All as separate cases. Thanks in part to the actions you took—some of which I would not endorse—we were able to uncover hidden links and connect the perpetrators to their crimes. In the process, we also discovered another serious felony; the harvesting of organs from corpses in the care of Harrowport & Dynes Funeral Home. I’ll let our coroner, Dr. Dennis Collier, explain that situation.”
Lareault sat down and Collier took his place.
“While we can’t be certain how many deceased persons were tampered with, and I’m sorry if this puts you off your lunch, we did retrieve several human adrenal glands from a pharmaceutical research facility. We were certain they were extracted at Harrowport & Dynes but didn’t know from whom, and to exhume every corpse they’d buried would have been a nightmare.
“Luckily, we had a good idea of when the glands appeared at the facility and only had to check H&D’s records to see who was admitted over a certain three month period. After that, it was a fairly simple matter of getting DNA samples from next of kin and looking for matches. We have a meeting scheduled with those families this afternoon. That civil suit will be a whole other ball of wax.”
Collier paused to acknowledge Fenn’s raised hand.
“So, is Simedyne—yeah I figured that out—will that company be charged?” Fenn said.
“Probably not. One of their employees, Roger Aird, allegedly brought the glands in for his own unauthorized use. He was partnered with Brittany Reis and developed the drug patches. Mr. Aird died from natural causes but two other people who got close to Ms. Reis were murdered. Your father, Stanislaw Svoljsak, and Martin Durrell died of a toxic injection from a specially designed hairclip. The same one that she attacked you with, Mr. Fenn.
“Although Ms. Reis denied owning the piece, a search of her apartment turned up a box that was custom made for it. Her fingerprints were on both items.”
Asha had a question. “What can you tell us about the formula on the disc?”
“Thanks to your cousin, who had the data analyzed by the University of British Columbia, we could quickly verify our own findings. The formula was a match for the composition of the zebra patch drug. Although the patch was mostly ineffective as an intoxicant, it did cause the death of a young man who was allergic to bee venom.
“On that note, however, there is one positive aspect. Aird’s method of bonding the chemical agents led the UBC team to a breakthrough in apitherapy. This was something they’d been working on for a long time and is good news, I’m sure, for Mrs. Tillart. I also understand that Mr. Fenn and Ms. Fabiani have been named on the patent application.”
“Say, what?” said Dieter. “Does this mean you’re going to get rich, and quit DriveCheck?”
“I don’t know,” said Fenn
“I wasn’t asking you,” Dieter said, removing his sunglasses to look at his booking clerk.
“There will be years of trials before any product hits the market,” Asha replied. “If there are any royalties it could be a long time before we see the money”.
“Oh good,” Dieter said, and then when Carole elbowed him added, “I mean, that’s very good that you’ll get royalties. What?”
Collier relinquished the floor and the woman sitting next to Lareault stood up.
“Guess it’s time to talk about the legal stuff. My name is Alison Murray. My partner is Tamara Welch. As much as we want to prosecute the bad guys, we have to be concerned about the credibility of our witnesses. Namely, that of Mr. Fenn.”
Fenn tried not to look guilty as all eyes turned to him.
“The first item is the intentional collision with the garbage truck. Since a gun was found with fingerprints belonging to the alleged assailant, Byron Evelyn Rupnick, we can indeed claim self-defense. The gun had been discharged, and gunshot residue found on Mr. Rupnick’s hand only strengthens that claim.”
“Does this mean our fleet insurance won’t be affected?” Both Dieter and Carole sat up for that one.
“Unfortunately, insurance companies play by their own rules. You might get lucky but I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
Carole turned to stare at Fenn who thought he’d probably turn to stone if she chose that moment to remove her shades.
“Mr. Demmers has a similar problem, I’m afraid. The media called him a hero for his rescue attempt, but the illegal modifications to his car still rendered his policy null and void.”
“No worries there,” said Kim. “My father will be covering all of Tony’s expenses.”
“Wonderful. The rollover was deemed mechanical failure so there will be no charges for moving violations.” The lawyer perused the paper in her hand. “Now, there is a small matter of possession with regard to an amount of cash. Ms. Reis has claimed that Mr. Fenn removed from her car a bag containing a quarter million dollars in cash.
“Before I ask Mr. Fenn’s opinion on this, I will tell you that documents and computer data found at Ms. Reis’s apartment show that she used an alias and misrepresented herself in Mr. Aird’s affairs. A lot, if not all, of that alleged amount may have been collected under false pretences. In addition, we believe that Aird also acquired the money through illegal channels so, technically, that cash is now evidence in the upcoming trials.
“Or, it would be evidence if we had it. The bag that Mr. Fenn claims he found in the river contained his own car keys and the disc that has been the root of so much trouble. Items that c
ould suggest Mr. Fenn had taken possession of the bag prior to that. However, the bag given to the police contained only two thousand dollars. So, I’m quite interested in your view of this, Mr. Fenn.”
And judging by the look on everyone else’s face, so were they. Wishing he’d worn suspenders to hook his thumbs into, Fenn stood up to make his reply.
“If I were a lawyer, I’d have Ms. Reis prove she had that much cash to begin with. Are there bank records? Did anyone actually see it in her possession, or in her car? On the other hand, three people in this room actually watched Ron Jenner put my car keys and the disc into the bag he had in the ATV. How he came to have the bag, or how much money he had in there, I can’t say. When I pulled it from the river water poured out of it. If there was more cash, it may have been lost when it got tossed around in the rapids.”
Fenn sat down. Then he stood up again.
“Which reminds me. I know that Jenner was apprehended while trying to hitch a ride along one of the side roads in Bruce County. But I also heard he made bail. How did Harrowport manage to bail out a guy that had shot a policeman?”
Frank Bloomfield, who had so far been content to listen in, chose to field that one. “Good question, eh, Joe.”
Officer Abes gave a wry smile. “Got a good answer, Frank?”
“I wish. First of all it wasn’t Harrowport who put up the fifty grand. It was his wife. Secondly, that woman must have friends in high places because it’s a rare judge who will set bail for a guy who wounded not one but two cops.
“He didn’t get a free pass, though. His Worship, Judge Bender, did set the condition that Mr. Jenner be placed under house arrest, and that he had to wear an ankle monitor, but…ahhh, it ain’t right.” Bloomfield shook his head and sat down.
And that was about it. The lawyers mentioned that the motorbike rider Fenn had hit with the hammer may lay assault charges but considering the circumstances, that action would probably backfire. However, they did recommend that ‘Dusty’ file suit against all parties involved for damages to his motel. They then requested that no one speak to the media until the cases had gone to court. Detective Inspector Lareault thanked everyone, once more, and the meeting was over.