by Don Easton
“Sir? What should I do?”
“Continue to play along. Give him some more time, or I should say rope, to hang himself. Make sure you make notes that he went in there alone and left his gun in the car.”
“Already done, sir.” Danny hung up the phone and let out a deep breath. He realized that he had a headache. He made another call.
“Hi, honey! You on your way home?” Susan held the telephone with the crook of her neck as she placed some family pictures on the dresser in her bedroom. A portrait of Danny in his red tunic looked particularly handsome.
“Sorry, babe, not yet. I’m stuck in some fleabag of a bar watching my new partner drink beer and chat with some hooker.”
“What are you doing in a place like that?”
“Good question. Everyone in here is a degenerate. My so-called partner seems to be having fun. How’s Tiffany?”
“She’s asleep. Listen, I got the bed put together, but can’t find the nuts to the bolts.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my own nuts.”
Susan snickered and then said, “But what about me? I don’t have any.”
“You can use mine whenever you want. Don’t wait up. Love ya!”
Spider didn’t take his eyes off Jack as he put the syringe down on the edge of the sink before searching him. He started at Jack’s neck and worked his way down to his feet. He took his time and wasn’t bashful. He found a hunting knife tucked in the top of Jack’s boot.
Spider pulled out the knife. “What’s this?”
“I ain’t in the business of lettin’ people rip me off!”
Spider smiled, then looked at his two companions and said, “Okay, let ’im go.”
“So what the hell was that all about?” said Jack in a voice he hoped sounded convincing.
“Just makin’ sure you’re not the heat.”
“This is fuckin’ bullshit, man! I’m no more the heat than you are!”
“Yeah, well, it pays to be careful. Don’t take it personal. Go wait by the pool tables. Should be along in about half an hour.”
“Give me my blade back!”
Spider pointed the knife at Jack’s eye and used the tip of the blade to flick his eyelashes. Jack slowly reached for the knife. Spider relinquished his grip and Jack shoved the knife back in his boot. He slammed the door as he left, then walked to the rear of the tavern.
Spider left the men’s room and went directly to Red. He whispered to her and then returned to his table. The two junkies came out a minute later and left the bar. They had just been given their fix for the night. He noticed Danny return to his seat.
Jack chalked his name on a board to play pool. His legs felt weak and he stood with his hands in his pockets, hoping nobody would notice him shaking. Red went to the lobby but returned a few minutes later.
Ten minutes later, Jack saw Danny get up and go to the men’s room. A scrawny junkie at a nearby table gave Danny a long, hard look, and then followed him. Jack hoped his frustration didn’t show. Now what? Blow my cover for some jerk I told to stay in the car? Goddamn him!
Danny stood at the urinal. He heard someone come in behind him but didn’t look up. The junkie took a buck knife out of his pocket and opened the blade. He partially hid the knife beside his leg as he crept up behind Danny.
The pain was instant. Danny briefly lost consciousness when the butt end of the knife slammed hard into the side of his skull. He crashed into the wall and his knees buckled as he slid face-first down the urinal. The junkie grabbed his hair and smashed his face into the drain.
Danny’s teeth cut his tongue and he could taste the blood as it ran down the back of his throat. The deodorizer cake in the bottom of the urinal stung his eyes and lips. His left hand was partially pinned under his face, and the junkie held his other wrist high up his back. He felt the sharp edge of the knife on his throat and froze.
“You so much as whisper or blink a fuckin’ eyeball and I’ll slash yer fuckin’ throat!”
For a strange moment, Danny didn’t feel fear or panic. A sorrowful calm seeped across his brain. There is nothing I can do. I am not in control of my life — he is. In a moment he’ll find my badge and then I’ll die. I’ll never see Susan or Tiffany again. It’s so sad….
The door to the men’s room opened and he cocked his head and saw Jack. Both Danny and the junkie stared at Jack, who sauntered up to the urinal next to them. Danny heard him unzip and then softly whistle.
The junkie kneed Danny between the shoulder blades, pinning his face harder into the bottom of the urinal. He felt the junkie’s hand slide his wallet from his pocket. Son of a bitch! He’s not going to help me! I’m going to die in here like this! Panic replaced sorrow.
Jack eyed the situation. How do I help without blowing my cover? Then he spotted Danny’s ring. If the junkie wanted it, he’d have to release Danny’s arm.
“Missed his wedding ring,” Jack said, trying to sound casual.
Danny saw the blood and water trickling across his gold wedding ring.
“Yeah. Gimme yer fuckin’ ring!”
Danny raised his left hand above his head. The junkie released his grip on his wrist and reached for the ring. It was the chance Danny needed. He uttered a panicked squeal while grabbing the knife by the blade. The sharp steel cut through his flesh while he started bashing the junkie’s wrist against the ceramic side of the urinal. He drove a sharp elbow into the junkie’s ribs and the knife clattered into the bottom of the urinal.
Both men were in a frenzied struggle for the knife. Danny’s brain didn’t register Jack yell, “Hey! You made me piss on my leg!” Nor was he aware that Jack then kicked the junkie in the head, knocking him off balance. Danny grabbed the knife as the junkie turned to scramble away. Within a heartbeat, Danny buried the knife into the junkie’s back — and then recoiled in horror.
A different panic swept over him when he realized what he had done. The junkie staggered to his feet and tried to reach the knife protruding from under his shoulder blade.
“Here, let me help you with that,” said Jack, while zipping up his pants. He pulled the knife out and added, “You better split, man, before this guy finishes you off!”
The junkie flopped against the door, opened it, and hurried out.
Danny sat on the floor, gawking at his bleeding hand while Jack rinsed the knife in the sink. Neither spoke as Jack cut off half of Danny’s shirtsleeve and tied the cloth around his hand. Jack handed him the knife.
“Stabbing someone in the back. Is that what they’re teaching at the academy these days?”
Danny’s mouth hung open as he stared at Jack in both shock and disbelief. “We’ve got to report this. That guy could die! We can’t just —”
“Forget that! You’re a cop. You’d end up in jail. Only citizens are allowed to panic.”
“But what if he dies? You can’t —”
“He won’t die. A shoulder isn’t what you would call a vital organ. If you wanted to kill him, you should have gone for his carotid artery.”
Danny looked down at the blood seeping through the cloth on his hand. “I need stitches.”
“You’ll need a few. There’s a clinic about five blocks away. But not now.”
“What do you mean, not now?” said Danny, as a combination of fear and anger crept back into his voice. “I’m bleeding.”
“I need fifteen or twenty minutes. You can hold off that long. I obviously didn’t make myself clear when I told you to wait in the car, so let me explain it to you in your language.”
“Huh?”
“The gentleman I was sitting with is lining me up with an ounce of speed. He goes by the name of Spider. A tattooed lady of questionable character is involved. She has long red hair and goes by the name of Red. I want you to watch and see if you can figure out the action.”
“Walk out like nothing happened?”
“Yes. This place is not all that genteel. An extra set of eyes might help.”
“So now you
decide to follow policy?” said Danny harshly.
“Forget about policy. You need to learn the rules … to be educated.”
“What rules? What are you talking about? Educated about what?”
“For tonight, two simple things. Lesson one, leave your attitude behind. You look like you think you’re better than everybody else.”
“I am better than anyone in this dump!”
“That attitude will get you killed. Besides, you’ve never walked in their shoes.”
“This is nothing but a den of snakes! Scum! I can see that much!”
“That’s the second lesson. If they don’t respect you, you’ll become a victim.”
“I just did!”
“I mean a dead victim. Everybody will know what happened. They’ll have a lot more respect for you if you stay and don’t act like a pansy. Wash up, then go out there and order a beer and drink it slow. Hold the beer in your cut hand. The cold will slow the bleeding. When I leave, don’t walk out with me. I’ll go out the back. Wait at least ten minutes then go out the front.”
“Anything else?” asked Danny, sullenly.
“Yes. Zip up!”
Jack returned to the pool tables. The wounded junkie was gone. A few minutes later, Danny stumbled out of the men’s room. The noise level dropped as patrons saw his bandaged hand and the open knife held forth in his other hand. His anger and paranoia was evident as his eyes darted about. Everyone waited and stared. Danny then used his good hand to press the release button and his forearm to close the blade. He dropped the knife in his pocket and then growled at the waitress to bring him a beer. The noise level returned to normal.
A few minutes later, Jack noticed a slim man with a shaved head and moustache walk casually through the bar. He was wearing a black leather vest that had silver medallions for buttons. He gave Red a subtle nod and walked back out the main entrance.
Red went to the rear of the bar and stood by the fire escape door. The door could be opened only from inside the bar. She waited until she heard a rap on the door and then opened it. She was passed something and then pulled the door shut.
Several men, all holding cues, slowly encircled Jack. Some held the cues by the wrong end, gripping them like a baseball bat. They stared into his eyes, defying him to make a move.
The circle parted slightly as Red walked up to Jack. Without saying a word, she handed him a plastic baggie of brown powder. Seconds later, the transaction was completed. Jack pushed open the fire escape door and disappeared down the darkened alley.
Danny showed up at the parking garage on schedule.
Jack held up the plastic baggie of powder. “See anything after I left?”
“Yeah. Red went to where Spider was sitting and gave him a couple of bills. Then she met a guy who just arrived. A minute later they both split for the lobby.”
“Bald? Leather vest?”
“You saw him?”
“He cruised through the bar right before the deal went down. I’m sure Baldy is her connection. Bet he stashed the dope in the alley until he checked things out, then went and handed it to her through the back door.”
“Recognize him from the photos?”
“No. A club member would never deliver it.” Jack saw Danny grimace as he adjusted the piece of shirtsleeve wrapped around his hand and said, “I’m sorry if I was a little snarky in there. I respect how you handled yourself after. You don’t listen very well, but you’ve got guts. If you don’t want to be my partner I’ll understand.”
Danny thought about Wigmore. Do I have any choice? He looked at Jack and replied, “I’ll still be your partner — for now.”
“Good. Then I’ll clue you in as to what my plans really are. This is just the beginning.”
I’m sure Wigmore will be very interested to hear your plans. Danny stared down at his hand and said, “This is just the beginning?”
Jack playfully punched him on the shoulder and said, “What a pansy. Okay, I’ll drive you to the clinic. We’ll talk after.”
chapter seven
Jack and Danny entered the medical clinic and approached the receptionist, an older, heavy-set woman with short grey hair. Behind her, a younger woman wearing a white lab coat stood bent over with her back to them as she rifled through some papers.
“What can I do for you two gentlemen?” the receptionist asked.
“My friend fell on some glass and cut his hand.”
Jack picked up a magazine and sat in the reception area. He heard the receptionist ask Danny for his provincial health card. Jack winced when Danny didn’t lower his voice to explain that as a federal police officer, he was on a different health plan. He was glad there were no other people in the office. A moment later the receptionist said, “Doctor?”
The doctor turned around. Jack noticed that she was a petite woman, with a slim figure and long black hair.
“Hello! I’m Dr. Trovinski,” she said to Danny in a cheery voice. “Come with me, officer, and we’ll take a look.”
Jack joined them as they entered a small examination room and stood beside Danny as he sat on the edge of the examination bed.
“And why did you come along?” the doctor asked.
Jack smiled and stuck out his hand as he introduced himself. She reluctantly accepted his handshake but remained silent, awaiting his reply.
“My partner suffers from a phobia about seeing doctors. On the way over he made me promise to stay with him.”
“Really?” She looked at Danny, who looked perplexed. “You suffer from iatrophobia?”
“Probably got smacked on the bum too hard by a doctor when he was born,” Jack offered.
The doctor gave Jack a furtive look and smiled. Her bright white teeth shone, as did her eyes. She turned her attention to Danny’s hand and slowly unwrapped the shirtsleeve that was being used as a dressing. Classical music softly played from a nearby office and she hummed quietly as she worked.
“Fantasy. D-Minor by Mozart,” said Jack.
“You know your music,” she replied without looking up.
“My favourite is The Marriage of Figaro.”
“Mine, too, but that CD is scratched.” She finished unwrapping Danny’s hand and started to wash off the blood.
“Would you like to eat pickled herring in chocolate sauce?” Jack asked.
“Would I what?”
“Would you like to eat pickled herring in chocolate sauce?”
“Certainly not. Sounds gross!”
“Sounds gross to me too. Looks like we have at least two things in common. Are you a vegetarian?”
“No, but I see where you’re going with this, and —”
“That makes three things we have in common.”
“I’m married.”
I’m such an idiot! He looked at the doctor and said, “Sorry.” He found the silence that followed more embarrassing, so he asked, “Do you have children?”
“Uh, yes. Three of them.”
“You’re not wearing a ring, so I thought…”
“Sanitary reasons.”
She examined Danny’s hand carefully, then looked at Jack. “You told my receptionist that he cut his hand when he fell on some glass.”
Jack nodded.
Dr. Trovinski’s face hardened. “I don’t appreciate being lied to. Do you really think I don’t know what a defensive knife wound looks like? Especially working in this neighbourhood? Give me a break! I treated a fellow not even half an hour ago with a stab wound to his shoulder. Believe me, I know knife wounds when I see them!”
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Danny.
“Who?”
“This other guy, who was stabbed in the back.”
“How did you know that it was the back of his shoulder?”
There was an uncomfortable silence, then she said, “Yes, he’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened between the two of you and I really don’t care. My job is to patch people up. Most of my customers wouldn’t come in for treatment if they thou
ght I would tell anyone.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Jack.
She nodded curtly and then turned back to Danny. “I smell alcohol on your breath. I suspect you’ve had enough to drink that I won’t need to waste time administering freezing.”
Danny sat upright. “No! I didn’t drink that much!”
The doctor pursed her lips into a slight grin as she walked over to a cabinet.
“Pansy,” whispered Jack.
It was well past midnight when Jack drove Danny away from the clinic.
“How’s your hand?”
“Sore. So’s my tongue. I bit it when he whacked me.”
“What were you prescribed?”
Danny handed him the small bottle of pills.
Jack examined the label. “T-threes.” He tossed the pill bottle into the back seat. “I have better medicine.”
At 5:15 in the morning, Danny found himself sitting cross-legged on a seawall in Stanley Park, overlooking the ocean. Jack’s medicine was a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold tequila that they passed back and forth between them.
Jack explained the real reason that he was interested in Satans Wrath and admitted that he didn’t have proper authorization or Louie’s approval to buy drugs.
Danny felt tense. Will Wigmore forgive me for stabbing that guy if I come clean with Taggart? He looked at the half-empty bottle of tequila. What the hell, at least my hand doesn’t hurt. Come to think of it, I can’t feel my legs, either. He rolled over on his side and kicked to untangle his legs. He then snickered when he thought of Jack’s awkward pass at the doctor.
“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”
“Who?” Jack asked.
“The doc.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“You noticed! No shit! I would never have guessed. Too bad she’s married.”
“She’s not married.”
“Yeah, she is. Don’t you remember? She can’t wear her ring ’cause —”
“She lied.” Jack paused, then took his first real swig on the bottle. “Not that it matters. She obviously didn’t want to go out with me.” He passed the bottle back to Danny and added, “I can’t believe I acted that way around her. I was a fool. No wonder she wasn’t interested.”