Subverting Justice

by Don Easton

“Okay, I love you.”

  “Love you, too, babe.”

  Floyd Hackman slowly drove past Taggart’s house. The white van he and Vic Trapp were in was in need of a wash, and the magnetic signs stuck to the doors read Abe’s Furnace Repair, along with a phone number. They saw a woman who fit Taggart’s wife’s description crouched with her back to the street working in a flower bed.

  “Fuckin’ perfect,” Trapp said. He glanced at his watch. “Bet their kids’ll be home from school soon. Park up ahead. It’ll be easy to shoot out the back,” he added, gesturing with his thumb toward the curtained-off portion of the van.

  Chapter Four

  “Assistant Commissioners Isaac and Mortimer are expecting you.”

  Jack nodded cordially to the secretary, then followed Rose in. Isaac and Mortimer sat in upholstered chairs, part of a cluster around a coffee table. Jack took in Mortimer’s appearance. Double chins coupled with an egg-shaped bald head. His skin was a pasty white and his hands, wrists, and fingers were pudgy. Looks like somebody put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

  Isaac looked up and his face became grim.

  Yes, sir, I feel sickened by what happened, too. Then Jack’s eyes met Mortimer’s and he saw the look of disapproval. Okay, so my beard is down to my chest and the bags under my eyes make me look like a raccoon. You try doing what I do.

  Isaac’s voice was grave. “Assistant Commissioner Mortimer, this is Staff Sergeant Rose Wood. She heads our intelligence unit. Corporal Jack Taggart is one of her investigators.”

  Mortimer acknowledged the introduction with a grunt.

  Isaac gestured for them to sit and then focused on Jack. “We’ll talk about the main reason you’re here in a moment, but first, I received a call from Inspector Dyck about your undercover operation in Victoria. Please explain the circumstances to my colleague here. I was told the suspect pulled a gun and that a weapon was discharged during the arrest.”

  At the mention of a gun, Mortimer stared bug-eyed at Jack.

  “Yes, sir. Basically, I was involved in an undercover operation to gather evidence on a murder. The suspect lived on a boat and I wanted to have a look at the tender —”

  “Tender?” Mortimer questioned.

  “The small boat, often a dingy, that larger boats use to get to shore.” Jack saw Mortimer nod, so he continued. “The motor on the tender may have been damaged by the victim seconds before he was murdered. The suspect invited me on board, but caught me looking at the tender and pulled a gun.”

  Mortimer glowered at Jack. “What were you doing working on cases where guns were involved?”

  Jack was aghast. “Sir?”

  “That sort of thing should’ve been turned over to the police! You shouldn’t have been involved in something like that!”

  Turned over to the police? What the hell? Jack’s tone displayed his contempt. “Sir, I don’t know about you, but I am a police officer. I’ve got a badge and everything, including a gun. Many of the people I investigate carry guns or have access to them.”

  Mortimer opened and closed his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words.

  Jack glanced at Rose. Come on Rose! Don’t be giving me the hairy eyeball! This guy’s so far removed from reality he doesn’t even think of us as police officers! What the hell?

  “It’s okay,” Isaac assured Mortimer. “Nobody was hurt and the suspect was apprehended. I’d like to hear about the weapon being discharged, though.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jack replied. “Corporal Connie Crane —”

  “A member from the Integrated Homicide Investigation team I assigned to be part of the cover team,” Isaac noted for Mortimer’s benefit.

  “Yes,” Jack said. “I-HIT had a cover team hidden in a nearby boat. When the suspect pulled the gun, Corporal Crane ordered him to drop it. He didn’t. She fired a shot, which distracted him, and I was then able to disarm him. I believe Corporal Crane saved my life.”

  “Similar to how Inspector Dyck reported the incident,” Isaac added. He faced Jack but his eyes momentarily shifted toward Mortimer. “Except I was told how your jacket was damaged.”

  Right. Connie tried to shoot the asshole as I tackled him. The bullet went through my collar. He glanced at Mortimer. You’d probably want her fired. Jack tried for nonchalance as he said, “It was an old jacket. I threw it out and won’t be claiming any expenses for it.”

  Isaac nodded. “Enough said. Congratulations on a job well done.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s move on to why I called you in. That delicate matter you brought to my attention ten days ago became an indelicate matter. By your odour, I presume you were at the farmhouse?”

  “Yes, sir. When we got off the ferry from Victoria, Corporal Crane was with me. She received a call and we went to the scene. After that I spoke to my informant.”

  Isaac looked at Mortimer. “Corporal Taggart was investigating Satans Wrath Motorcycle Club. They were exporting shipments of marijuana to Dallas, Texas, in a semi being driven by a Robert and Roxanne Barlow. After the marijuana was unloaded and the Barlows left, we had the DEA seize the shipment.”

  “How much marijuana was seized?” Mortimer asked.

  “About 250 kilos,” Isaac replied, “but that’s incidental to what took place later. Neal Barlow, who’s Robert’s brother, is a member of the Gypsy Devils motorcycle gang. They’re a puppet club controlled by Satans Wrath and were responsible for looking after the delivery. During the investigation, seventy-five kilos of marijuana were surreptitiously taken from Neal.”

  “So 325 kilos were actually seized,” Mortimer said.

  What part of “incidental” don’t you understand?

  “It caused the bikers to suspect that Neal had cut a deal with the police in exchange for Robert and Roxanne’s freedom. We expected that Neal would be murdered, but we didn’t expect Robert and Roxanne to also be murdered, let alone in the heinous fashion that they were.”

  Mortimer just gaped.

  “We could’ve had Robert and Roxanne arrested in the States,” Isaac went on, “but Satans Wrath believed the Gypsy Devils were responsible for the shipment being seized and had given them two weeks to plug the leak. If they didn’t, the clubs would be at war and most of the Gypsy Devils would’ve been murdered.”

  “Good God,” Mortimer spluttered, then glared at Jack. “Your actions are reprehensible!”

  “It was my decision,” Isaac said forcefully. “The ones who are reprehensible are the criminals he’s working on.”

  Mortimer frowned, then sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

  Isaac cleared his throat. “So, to continue … I was left with the choice of either agreeing with Corporal Taggart’s plan to set Neal up as a sacrificial lamb, or have Robert and Roxanne arrested — which may or may not have prevented Neal’s murder in the resulting gang war. That war would’ve also jeopardized the lives of innocent people.”

  “This is unbelievable.” Mortimer’s jaw quivered. “What a thing to ask Ottawa.”

  “There wasn’t time to sit around while Ottawa procrastinated,” Isaac declared. He looked at Jack. “Did your informant have any information about what happened?”

  “Yes, sir. My informant was present when the murders took place and he —”

  Mortimer interjected. “You’re telling me that you allowed an informant to take part in a triple murder?” He leaned forward and gripped the arms of the chair as if prepared to run away.

  “Yes, sir, I did,” Jack replied. “As it turns out he was basic-ally a spectator.”

  “You don’t catch sewer rats with church mice,” Isaac stated. “The murders would have taken place regardless.” He glanced at Jack. “Please proceed, Corporal.”

  “Yes, sir. Two members of Satans Wrath and eight of the Gypsy Devils took part in the murders. Under orders from Satans Wrath, the Gypsy Devils bound, gagged, and tied t
heir three victims to kitchen chairs. Cans of lighter fluid were given to the Gypsy Devils.” Jack had to steel himself to continue without emotion. “They burned Roxanne first, then Robert. After that, Neal was disembowelled and a Satans Wrath member dipped a broom into his blood and painted a message on the wall. It read the number four, the letter U, and the initials JT.”

  “For you, JT,” Isaac said, looking at Jack.

  “Yes, sir. I was told that Purvis Evans ordered the message be left for me.”

  Isaac glanced at Mortimer’s stunned face. “Purvis Evans is the new national president of Satans Wrath,” he explained.

  “He also goes by the nickname of Pure E, which is short for Pure Evil,” Rose added.

  “A title that he obviously deserves,” Isaac said.

  Jack nodded. “Sir, I’m sickened by what transpired. When I approached you with the question of whether or not to arrest Robert and Roxanne, Damien Zabat was still national president. He never would’ve done what Pure E, I mean, Purvis Evans, did.”

  “Pure E seems more appropriate than Purvis,” Isaac said dryly. He paused, then added, “They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but given the situation, were it to occur again, I’m not certain I’d do anything different.”

  “Your informant witnessed these murders,” Mortimer stated.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then he can testify!” Mortimer sat forward again, looking pleased with himself.

  Gee, why didn’t we think of that? “No, sir. I promised the informant I’d never put him in that position. He’s not a paid agent, but was caught doing a crime and agreed to supply information in lieu of being charged.”

  “What kind of crime?” Mortimer asked.

  “He’s a weenie wagger.”

  “A what?”

  “He was caught exposing himself in public. Satans Wrath would likely murder him if they found out because of the embarrassment it’d cause if it became public. Initially he provided me with information about a marijuana grow-op.”

  Isaac turned to Mortimer. “Corporal Taggart then worked his way up the ladder. His work was instrumental in discovering how Damien Zabat, the previous national president of Satans Wrath, had been laundering money. Last week we raided Damien’s home and also conducted searches of lawyers’ offices in Vancouver, the British Virgin Islands, and Chihuahua, Mexico. We seized somewhere in the neighbourhood of twenty million dollars, along with another five or six million in assets. Further to that, to prevent his son from going to jail, Damien provided Corporal Taggart with information about a boatload of cocaine being delivered to France. That shipment was seized last night.”

  “I heard about it on the news,” Mortimer said. “Four Satans Wrath members were arrested, along with several Europeans. A tonne of cocaine was seized.” He paused. “There was no mention of involvement from us. The news made it sound like the investigation originated in Europe.”

  “That was to protect the informant,” Jack explained.

  Mortimer frowned. “That was dumb. The press coverage would have benefited us all.”

  “Not the informant,” Jack said sharply.

  Isaac glanced at Mortimer. “I think it best to let Corporal Taggart call the shots on informant safety.”

  Mortimer stared silently at Jack.

  Isaac said, “I won’t keep you any longer, Corporal. I’m sure you’d like to go home and get some much needed rest.”

  Rose cleared her throat. “Sir, there’s been a further development you need to know about. I think it best to let Corporal Taggart explain.”

  Jack felt the dryness in his throat and swallowed. Talk about a bad day at the office. “It was Damien’s wife, Vicki, who provided me with the financial information allowing us to seize his money and assets.”

  “His own wife was your informant?” Mortimer asked in astonishment.

  “Yes, sir. Her son, Buck, is a member of Satans Wrath. I recently videoed him beating a drug dealer to death.”

  “You what?” Mortimer’s gaze swung from Jack to Isaac.

  “I was aware of it,” Isaac said.

  “In exchange for keeping her son out of jail, Vicki gave me the information on her husband. When we seized Damien’s assets, I staged a phony situation where it looked like Vicki tried to attack me as we were searching his house.” Jack paused. Firing a bullet into my Kevlar vest … I think that qualifies as an attack. “Damien then told me about the cocaine shipment, believing he was saving his wife and son from going to jail.”

  Isaac stared at Jack. “What you described as an attack — it’s the first I’ve heard about it. Was it something you’d planned all along?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jack admitted.

  “You arranged this so Damien wouldn’t suspect his wife had informed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The attack must have appeared realistic, perhaps even deadly, for Damien to think she’d receive a serious jail sentence,” Isaac noted. “So serious that he gave us a tonne of cocaine.”

  Please don’t go there. Rose already gave me shit. Mortimer would probably have me committed. “I’d already shown Damien the video of his son beating the drug dealer to death. I believe his reason to co-operate was a combination of factors.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Isaac said. “Continue.”

  Good. You see through the layers. You know there was more to it. Jack cleared his throat. “Unfortunately Damien didn’t tell me about the cocaine until after he’d obtained a lawyer for Vicki.”

  “Basil Westmount?” Isaac asked. Before Jack could reply, Isaac glanced at Mortimer and said, “He’s the lawyer Satans Wrath keeps on retainer.”

  “No, sir, it wasn’t Westmount, although he was representing Buck. For Vicki, Damien picked a respected lawyer by the name of Edward Gosling. Gosling met with her first and it was subsequent to that that Damien decided to bargain with me.”

  “A worthwhile bargain for us, considering what was seized last night in France.” Isaac stared at Mortimer until he eventually gave a nod of agreement.

  “The problem is, sir, at noon today I received a phone call from Basil Westmount. He said he’d received a call from Gosling’s office telling him they were representing Vicki and said they wanted to confirm if the charges against Buck had been dropped now that Damien had given us the boatload of cocaine.”

  “Oh, Lord, no,” Isaac muttered. He glanced at Mortimer. “Westmount is as crooked as they come and no doubt will tell Satans Wrath.” He turned to Jack. “I take it you’ve warned Damien?”

  “I called Damien’s number immediately, but …” Jack swallowed.

  “But?” Isaac prodded.

  “Pure E answered. He said he was expecting my call and told me that Damien wasn’t available … but he’d let Damien know I called.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Isaac repeated.

  “There’s no doubt Damien’s dead,” Jack said. “I then called the number I had for Vicki, but it wasn’t in service. Following that I called Edward Gosling’s office and discovered no one in his office made any calls to Basil Westmount.”

  Isaac’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I couldn’t prove it in court, but it had to be Vicki who called Westmount. She was furious with Damien for not informing when I first showed them the video of Buck beating up the dealer. Damien wouldn’t have told anyone that Vicki attacked me or have made any mention of Gosling.”

  “A modern-day Judas,” Isaac said. “Have you called I-HIT?”

  “Yes, they’re trying to trace Damien’s cellphone — but Pure E wouldn’t have risked talking to me if there was any chance of us finding evidence.”

  “Any idea at all what they might’ve done with his body?”

  “No, sir. The three-three squad turn their phones off when they’re doing a hit … so their movements can’t be traced
.”

  “Three-three squad?” Mortimer questioned.

  “Satans Wrath’s professional hit team,” Jack replied. “Individual members belong to various chapters, as do those assigned to the three-three. The area they are from, such as Vancouver, Calgary, Montreal, and so on, is written across the bottom of their jackets. In their lingo it is referred to as the bottom rocker. The difference is the three-three are utilized by various chapter presidents across the country. Although their bottom rockers don’t say Canada, unofficially they’re thought of as the Canada Chapter. The third letter of the alphabet is ‘C,’ which is where the term three-three originated from.”

  “And you think Damien’s been murdered?” Mortimer again.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mortimer gave Jack a look of disgust. “Didn’t it occur to you, Corporal, that last week you obtained evidence to charge him with money laundering? Not only weren’t you thinking clearly when you tried to warn him, I suspect it highly probable that he fled the country and is hoping you’ll think he’s dead.”

  “Sir, he’s definitely dead. Pure E wouldn’t have allowed Damien to get away with giving us the cocaine pipeline to Europe. Particularly with a seizure that large.”

  “You’re only guessing.” Mortimer scoffed. “I find it difficult to accept that they would kill their top man. In my opinion, you’ve been led down the garden path.”

  Jack’s face darkened. “I’m not a medical doctor, so I’m only guessing that Neal, Robert, and Roxanne Barlow are dead. I’d be pleased to take you to them so you could form your own opinion. That being said, I’m positive that Damien is dead.”

  Mortimer looked first at Jack, then Isaac. His jowls quivered and he spluttered in an apparent attempt to form a reply.

  Crap. That was a dumb thing to say to my future boss.

  Isaac’s face revealed his ire. “Corporal Taggart, your emotions have obviously affected your professionalism and the respect you normally hold for your superiors.”

  “Sir, he’s only had six hours sleep in the last two days,” Rose said. “With what he witnessed this morning and —”