Race

by Mobashar Qureshi

  “First time.”

  “Wow, you don’t get out much.”

  “Working.”

  “You still in the police force?”

  “Yep, they couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”

  “In parking?”

  “Nope. Got transferred.” I took a sip. “What do you do?”

  “I just graduated.”

  “In what?”

  “Pharmaceutical Chemistry.”

  ***

  “We’ll return with the drug,” said Ms. Zee. She turned to Kong. “Get Suraj and Joey. We’re leaving.”

  Kong went through the narrow hall and into the club. The music was loud and it hit him hard. He winced. There were too many people—moving, talking, laughing, yelling—it was all too much for him. He grunted.

  Kong pushed through the throng of people—actually, they moved away as he passed them. He was too big and no one wanted to mess with him. He bumped into a guy holding two full glasses filled with coloured liquid that spilled onto the guy’s nice shirt. The guy apologized and quietly walked away.

  Kong found Suraj standing at the bottom of the left staircase. Suraj looked bored and annoyed. He would rather be anywhere but here.

  Suraj looked up and they both made eye contact. Suraj understood.

  ***

  Barnes was chatting up a couple of girls in the mezzanine lounge when he squinted and moved his head to get a better view. Through the group of pool players he saw someone he recognized. Or thought he recognized. This guy had just come out of the narrow hall. His bald head was clearly visible, but from this angle Barnes could not see his face.

  Barnes dialed a number and waited. “Come on,” Barnes said. “Come on.” A few more rings later Rupret answered.

  “Come upstairs. I think I see someone,” Barnes yelled into the phone.

  “What?” Barnes heard Rupret say.

  “Come upstairs, now,” Barnes repeated.

  “You have to speak louder. I can’t make you out,” Rupret said. “Why don’t I come upstairs?”

  Barnes looked and the bald-headed man had disappeared. Barnes hung up and went in the direction where he had last seen the man.

  ***

  “Wow, pharmaceutical chemistry,” I repeated. “What do you learn to do? Make drugs?” I laughed.

  He laughed too. “Yeah, drugs.”

  My cell phone vibrated.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Hello.”

  It was Barnes.

  “Come…(inaudible)…I think…(inaudible)…someone…” I couldn’t clearly make out what he was saying. I even had one finger shoved in my other ear. I guess I was too close to the stage.

  “What?” I said.

  “Come…(inaudible)…now.”

  “You have to speak louder. I can’t make you out,” I said. I was not going to understand him through the cell phone. “Why don’t I come upstairs?” He hung up.

  I turned to Jeff, “I gotta go, man.”

  “Me, too,” he said, looking at his pager.

  “Nice talking to you,” I said.

  “See you around,” I heard him say as I hurried up the flight of stairs.

  ***

  Barnes moved past the bar and was standing in the middle of the floor. Where did he go? He looked around. Was he dreaming? He wasn’t sure what, but there was something familiar about this man. He just couldn’t put a finger on what.

  He spotted the bald-headed man looking down at the corner of the left staircase. Still he couldn’t see his face. Barnes pushed and shoved past several patrons and made his way to the stairs. The man was not there. He looked down. He was not on the ground floor either. Barnes knew the bald-headed man could not be on the mezzanine level. He could only have gone down.

  Barnes rushed down, skipping several steps. There were too many people. The lights were low and only when the strobes of beams dropped down onto the dancers could Barnes make out faces.

  He decided to push forward. Go to the front of the club, near the stage.

  ***

  On the mezzanine level I searched around. Barnes was not at the lounge. I moved further scanning each face. No Barnes. There was no way I could ask someone if they’d seen Barnes. How would I describe him? He’s tall, young and white. Right. That would narrow it.

  I passed the soda bar and went to the left side of the floor. No sign of him. The Find-a-Friend machine was vacant. I hurried and grabbed the joystick.

  My excitement fell as I realized this machine was just for the mezzanine level. I had already searched that level.

  I pulled out my cell and dialed his number again.

  ***

  Barnes passed a line of people who were eagerly waiting to dance on the mini stage. It was one of those interactive zones that he’d seen on TV. This one had the dancer’s body heat projected onto the screen.

  Barnes went forward and something caught his eye. A door to the left was a little ajar. A stream of light appeared from the opening. Something inside him said to check it out. It would be impossible to search through the entire dance floor. So there was no harm in this.

  Barnes didn’t have a gun. He didn’t need a gun. He was only there to check the place out.

  He pushed the heavy door slightly and peered inside. There was a dark hallway with a door to the right. There was another door at the end of the hall. Barnes entered and, feeling along the wall for guidance, moved down the hall toward that door. He stopped when he realized there was a figure standing in front of that door.

  The hallway was very dark and Barnes tried hard, with no success, to make out this figure. When his eyes adjusted he immediately recognized it was the bald-headed man, holding the door open.

  Something hit Barnes hard on the back of the head. There was a subdued clung, like metal hitting flesh. Barnes fell forward and saw darkness.

  ***

  Suraj stood above Barnes, holding a metal pipe. He had been hiding behind the door. There was a noise. The noise was coming from Barnes. Suraj looked at Kong. The noise sounded like the ringing of a cell phone. Suraj dropped the pipe and both he and Kong ran out of the House of Jam.

  ***

  No answer. I hung up. This was not good. I decided to go down. I knew the place well now.

  Downstairs was even worse. There were way too many people.

  My heart started beating faster. The longer it took to find Barnes the more nervous I became. Barnes would never have called me unless it was an emergency.

  I took a deep breath. I would find him.

  My eyes caught the door on the left of the stage.

  I remembered Cal saying, We never keep this entrance open.

  I rushed to the door and pulled it open. The hallway was dark but I could make out something on the floor. I slowly advanced into the hall.

  There was a body flat on the ground and I instantly knew it was Constable Michael Barnes.

  My knees became weak and I was ready to fall.

  FIFTEEN

  “What the hell were you doing there?” Aldrich yelled.

  It was the next morning and Beadsworth and I were in Aldrich’s temporary office. The police department had given him this office for the duration of the investigation. It had your standard: desk, chairs, lamp, cabinet, bookcase, and a few other items.

  Aldrich was pacing back and forth.

  “Will someone tell me what the hell you were doing at a club?”

  He was talking to me.

  “Scoping the place out,” I said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Checking the place out, sir,” I said.

  “Who authorized you to check this place out?” he demanded. He was now leaning across the desk.

  I glanced at Beadsworth.

  “I did, sir,” Beadworth said.

  Aldrich looked disappointed. “I expected more from you, Detective.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said Beadsworth.

  “It was my fault,” I said.

  “Of course it was your f
ault,” Aldrich shot back. “Who else’s fault would it be?”

  I’d been hoping Aldrich would say it was no one’s fault.

  “I have an injured officer.” He shook his head. “The drug squad is already going through so much. We don’t need this. You know how hard it was to keep it out of the papers. If anyone questions us we have to say the officer was off duty. We would have to lie. You know why?”

  Beadsworth and I didn’t answer.

  “It would have jeopardized our mission.” He stood up. Adjusted his coat. “You were only supposed to observe and not get involved. What were you hoping to find?”

  “RACE,” I said but then realized I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “RACE?” he blasted. “What if you had seen RACE, what would you have done? Do you remember our mission?”

  I did not open my mouth.

  “Our mission is to find where Nex is being produced and distributed. If you had intercepted they would have realized how close we were. They would have become cautious. We DO NOT want them to be cautious.”

  ***

  “How is Barnes?” Beadsworth finally asked.

  “He’s at Toronto East General, recovering. He took a hard hit on the head and his memory is questionable,” Aldrich answered. “We were lucky to get him out of that place without anyone knowing.”

  “Can we—” I started.

  “No. You will continue with the investigation.” He paused. “We are fortunate Constable Barnes’ injuries weren’t more severe. Detective Herrera is with him; he will rejoin the operation in due time.”

  Aldrich blew air through his nose. He was staring out the window. “We need a break. We need a lead. We need anything.” He turned to Beadsworth. “What about this import and export company?”

  “We’re monitoring it,” Beadsworth said.

  “If you feel there is a cause for intervention I will authorize it,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the surveillance cameras at the club? Did they catch anything?”

  “We have not viewed the tapes yet…but…”

  “But what?”

  “One tape is missing.”

  Aldrich looked like he was going to lose his head. “A tape missing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you question the owner of the dance club?”

  “Yes. He said he left his office for a minute and perhaps at that time someone took the tape.”

  “Where are the other tapes?”

  “At the Video Services Unit.”

  Aldrich nodded as if he was thinking. “Dismissed,” he said.

  ***

  We got up, but before we could leave, Aldrich said, “Not you, Officer Rupret. I’ll like to have a word with you.”

  I looked at Beadsworth who refused to make eye contact.

  “Officer Rupret,” started Aldrich when we were alone. He was looking straight at me. “You were with Constable Barnes when this unfortunate event happened. Is there anything you would like to tell me that you—didn’t or forgot to tell—Detective Garnett last night?”

  Last night Garnett had driven me home. The ride was not pleasant. Garnett was not pleasant. But it wasn’t just him. It was the fact that Barnes got hurt—and got hurt while with me. Garnett drilled me on every point: what time I got there? What did I do? Whom did I talk to?

  Beadsworth had instructed me to keep my answers vague, which I did. I told Garnett about the girl who wanted to buy me a drink and the kid, Jeff, but nothing specific.

  “Who was this Jeff?” asked Aldrich.

  “Some guy.”

  Aldrich sensed I was hiding something.

  “What did he look like?” Aldrich asked.

  “He was short, black, wore funky clothes,” I lied. I had a feeling if I told Aldrich the truth he would start investigating the kid’s background. I didn’t want the kid involved in this mess. He was at the House of Jam to have a good time. He had just graduated.

  “Officer Rupret, remember what I said when we first met?”

  I thought hard. “I was…young…creative…good looking…and imaginative.” I stopped, hoping that was it.

  “No.” Aldrich shook his head. “That there would be a lot demanded of you and I hoped you were prepared for it.”

  I remembered now.

  “I’m afraid I was wrong. You are not prepared for it.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re not fit for this unit and you’re most certainly not fit for Intelligence. After we are through I will have you sent back to parking enforcement.”

  My blood was boiling. My middle finger was twitching rapidly. Introduce me. Please introduce me. Just once.

  I held back.

  I was cut deep with Barnes getting hurt. This was salt rubbed on those cuts.

  “Remember what I said to you, sir?” I said.

  He listened.

  “I’ll quit the force.”

  “Are you resigning, Officer Rupret?”

  “No. Not until the task is completed.”

  He paused and then waved me off, “Dismissed.”

  ***

  Ms. Zee slammed her hand on the table. Suraj took a step back, while Kong stood his ground. “He was a police officer,” she yelled. “What if we were discovered? Do you know our plans would have been destroyed? Do you know how much I’ve invested in this? Both of you placed our operation in jeopardy. If he was killed, the entire force would be after you two.”

  Joey and Hause were also in the room.

  Ms. Zee turned to Joey, “Did you talk to anyone?”

  “No. I would never do that.”

  Her stare pierced into his heart.

  “All I did was get a drink and maybe dance a little, that’s it,” he pleaded.

  She believed him. He had no reason to talk to anyone.

  Martin entered. He didn’t look too happy. Ms. Zee couldn’t handle any more trouble.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “Can we talk alone?” he said.

  She dismissed all of them with a wave of her hand.

  “Four of the five businesses are up and running,” he said.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “The start-up costs have been huge; from registering the businesses to hiring the employees. With no immediate revenues we won’t be able to run these businesses forever.”

  “Call Burrows,” she said. “Let’s have a word with him.”

  A few minutes later, Ed Burrows entered the room, looking weak and tired. He’d spent all his waking hours trying different combinations of the drug, but nothing so far that could get the results they wanted.

  “Mr. Burrows,” Ms. Zee said. “Do you have any news for us?”

  He thought hard about his answer.

  She rephrased her question, “Will we ever be able to produce Nex?”

  Ed Burrows didn’t have an answer.

  ***

  We drove to DAS to meet our analyst, Eileen Mathers. She motioned us to follow her. We went inside the lab and to a corner.

  “What have you found?” Beadsworth asked.

  “What we already knew,” she said. She was holding several sheets of print-outs. She pulled out the first sheet. It showed two graphs. The graph resembled the display of a sound synthesizer or a heartbeat monitor with steady lines, but sudden abrupt peaks.

  “As you can see—” she started.

  I interrupted her, “Can you explain how this gas photography machine works?”

  “Gas chromatography,” she corrected me.

  “That’s what I mean,” I said. I was curious. Also, I needed something to divert my mind from the conversation with Aldrich.

  “Gas chromatography is an analytical method used to separate mixtures. It indicates, based on the component’s volatility, solubility and absorption of the relative quantity of each component.”

  I stared at her blankly.

  She tried again. “Gas chromatography separates the different compon
ents in the sample. The mass spectrometer identifies the atomic composition of each of the components. This data is then compared by a computer to a database of hundreds of known drugs and other compounds to see if there are any matches.”

  “Interesting,” I said, nodding. I had no idea what she was talking about.

  She was not talking to an intelligent adult; she was in fact talking to an eight-year-old who, as far as science was concerned, was more interested in looking at comic books than reading a text book.

  “How does that work exactly?” I asked.

  “First we dissolve the solid with a solvent, and then, using an injector, pass it through a long tubular column with a stream of helium gas. It separates the liquids on the basis of their boiling points. As they exit the columns, the mass spectrum detector records the drugs. Then you have this.” She held up the graphs again.

  “Yes,” I said, not understanding. “The graphs.”

  “Each peak represents a single component. If we have several components in a drug then we’ll have several peaks. The first graph shows the amount of each component, the other the time it took to emerge from the drug.”

  She pointed to the one peak. “This is the analysis of the first sample—the orange tablet. From the Mandelin test we already knew it contained Ketamine but this further verifies it. Ketamine is the sole component in the tablet.”

  She pulled out the second print. This one had two peaks.

  “This is for the green tablet. Earlier, through the Marquis test, we had verified it contained Ketamine and caffeine, but we did not know how much. If you look at the graph, caffeine has a higher peak, almost five times as large as Ketamine.”

  She pulled out the third graph. This one looked like it had gone berserk. It had many peaks.

  “This is a mixture of many components. The largest being Ketamine—just by looking at the peak you’ll agree. Then caffeine, then MDMA—”

  “What?” I said.

  “Ecstasy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Then pseudo ephedrine.” Before I could say something she said, “If taken in large quantity it has the same effect as speed. You’ll find it in Sudafed.”