“Good. I’m not dying and I don’t care.”
He unbuttoned his coat, sat down, and crossed his legs.
“So what’s up?” I said.
“I just returned from the meeting and Aldrich has halted the operation.”
“What? He can’t do that.”
“He can and he did.”
“We did stop an illegal operation.”
“The Chief was not happy with our progress. Valuable resources are being wasted, she said. The investigation into the drug squad is already in the media and the Chief doesn’t want any more publicity.”
“This is bullshit, you know?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then how are we supposed to do our job?”
“We are not,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“What?”
He said, “I spoke to Detective Herrera and he told me Constable Barnes is doing much better. He doesn’t remember much from that night but he’s slowly recovering.”
“That’s good to hear.” I closed my eyes and then opened them. “You know,” I started. “I’ve been meaning to ask, was there really money missing from the fink fund?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“I read in the papers it was like over twenty thousand.”
“More like forty.”
“Wow,” I said. “I guess those drug squad guys do deserve the heat they are getting.”
“Why would you say that?” he said.
I sensed Beadsworth was defensive.
“I—I mean how can you lose forty grand?” I said.
“Simple,” he answered.
I waited.
He crossed his other leg and said, “Let me explain, this is how it is supposed to work and I hope you see a flaw in this. An officer receives information from an informant and decides what this information is worth. To pay this informant the officer gets approval from his supervisor, then goes to the cashier’s office and collects the money. The officer then gets the informant to sign his real name for the money, which at the time is witnessed by a second officer.”
I didn’t see a flaw. It sounded reasonable to me.
“This is how it works in the real world: the cashier’s office is open only during normal business hours but the officer needs the cash during off hours. Also, the informant will not, under any circumstance, sign his real name. Remember, most informants only offer information when they need money and most of them have lengthy criminal records, which means they are not very trustworthy. Officers must rely on their judgment when dealing with these people.
“In order to further the investigation, the officer will pay the informant from his own pocket. Under certain situations the officer may credit payments to one informant but in fact be paying to another as the informant refuses to sign for it. Also, if an officer is working undercover and is alone, it is very difficult to have another officer as a witness. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded. That made more sense.
We both fell silent.
“What do we do now?” I said, wiggling my attractive toes.
“We wait, I suppose,” he replied.
“What about me?”
“You will rest and after…” he paused.
“After what?”
“You go back to parking enforcement.”
I didn’t protest. All this was taking a toll on me—physically and emotionally. It would be nice to go back. Sergeant Motley would welcome me with open arms.
I really missed giving out parking tickets. Except for the occasional irate driver, the job was primarily safe. I never had to see a co-worker get hurt, or see myself get hurt, for that matter.
“When can I go back?”
“You’re very eager?”
“Yes…and…like I said before, I don’t know why I’m in this team in the first place.”
“I think I know why,” he said. But before I could say something he stood up, “I read your file and it said you worked in the Guelph Police Services and particularly in the drugs and intelligence unit. Is this correct?”
I was ready to say yes but then thought about it. I was already being punished by the powers-that-be. No point in prolonging it. “I did work there,” I said. “But not in that unit.”
“May I ask in what capacity, then?”
“Keying and filing.”
Beadsworth did a double-take. “I beg your pardon?”
“I was an assistant to the records and data manager.” I turned my head away. “I entered criminal records into the computer and filed them away.”
I heard him say, “hmm.”
I felt ashamed.
He then said, “I must go.”
“Where to?” I turned back to him.
“Back to 23 Division.”
***
Ms. Zee stared at the small clear container that held the white tablets. Nex would give her the power to control Toronto.
And they would expand.
She was determined to make it an empire. A business empire.
Nex was for lawyers, judges, doctors, politicians; yes, people with power would use Nex. Make people with influence dependent on Nex and you would control the city.
Her mind drifted to another thought. Joey.
She was going to miss him. She had given Kong the green light to get rid of him. Kong was pleased. Hause would dump the body in the Scarborough Bluffs.
Many mistakes had been made in the beginning. Trusting Armand, hiring Joey, these were crucial mistakes. Now she was going to have none.
The door flew open.
Hause entered, huffing and puffing.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, infuriated at being disturbed.
“He’s gone,” he said.
“Who’s gone?”’
“Joey.”
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you search everywhere?”
“I checked the entire building. Kong is doing another sweep.”
Joey never ventured out of the building alone. Never. He knew the consequences if he did.
Kong returned, displeased.
“What now?” Hause said.
“He must have gone to his parents’ house,” Ms. Zee said. “Go check.”
TWENTY-ONE
I lay still, silently staring up at the ceiling. It had been more than an hour since Beadsworth had left. I was thinking about nothing in particular. My mind was shifting from one thought to another. There was so much I wanted to understand.
I felt Operation Anti-RACE had been set up too quickly. The team needed members with experience in catching criminals like RACE.
Now the team was being disbanded just like…the drug squad.
There was a loud bang.
I listened.
Bang, bang, bang came in rapid succession.
I got up and went to the door.
I opened it.
“Hey, Jeff!” I started. “What’re you doing here?”
The shaggy-haired kid looked nervous.
“Hey, man,” he said. “I’m glad you recognized me.”
“How did you get up here?” I asked, thinking about my ultra-protective-security, my landlady.
Jeff said, “There was an old woman outside cleaning up stuff and I told her I was your friend.”
“And she let you in?” I said. I must have a word with her.
“Can I come in?” he said.
I glanced back at the apartment and then said, “Sure. Come in.”
He entered but leaped back, almost hitting the wall, when he saw Michael Jordan. “Oh, it’s only cardboard,” he said, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said.
I led him to the sofa, where he sat down.
I offered him a drink but he declined.
I sat opposite him.
“What happened to you?” he said.
I touched my stuffed nose, “Long story.”
He rubbed his hands nervously and seemed to be shaki
ng.
I said, “I don’t remember giving you my address at the club.”
“I looked you up in the phone directory,” he replied.
“Right, right,” I said, nodding. “What can I do for you?”
“You’re a cop, right?”
I nodded, slowly. “You could say that.”
He seemed relieved. “Good, then I’m safe.”
“Safe from what?” I said.
“Do these walls have ears,” he said.
“Um…I don’t think so. But if you talk loud enough my landlady downstairs will hear you.”
“Then I’ll talk quietly,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m in serious trouble.”
I listened.
“I can’t say right now from who but if I get protection, like those victim protection programs, then I’ll tell you everything.”
“Jeff, you have to first tell me why you are in trouble.”
He lowered his head and stared at his fingers. “My name is not Jeff. It’s Joseph Lenard.”
“Okay, Joseph.”
“Joey.”
“Okay, Joey,” I said. “Why are you in trouble?”
“There is…” he searched for the right words. “This group that is very dangerous.”
I listened.
“They are trying to make—no, they are in the process of completing this drug.”
“RACE,” I blurted.
“Who?”
“RACE,” I said. “I mean, Radical Association of Criminal Ethnicities.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I think you’re confusing it with something else. But this group is working on this drug—”
“Nex?” I said.
His eyes widened and he said, “Yes. You do know?”
I immediately picked up the phone.
“No, don’t,” he said grabbing at it. “Please listen to me first.”
His hand was on top of mine.
“There is a mole inside the force,” he said.
“A mole?”
“Yes, someone was feeding information to us.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry, I’m calling my partner,” I said.
“Can you trust him?”
I thought about it. I hadn’t known Beadsworth long, but he was the only one I could call right now.
“Yes.”
Joey released my hand and I called Beadsworth.
***
Beadsworth was in my apartment in less than half an hour. He eyed Joey suspiciously. Joey stared at his fingers. Beadsworth sat across from him and unbuttoned his jacket.
I said to Joey, “Tell him what you told me.”
Joey coughed. “I need protection,” he said, not looking up.
“From whom?” Beadsworth said.
“I can’t say that right now. I need a guarantee first that I will be protected. The people I was working for are making a drug that’s bigger than anything…it’s going to be bigger than Ecstasy.”
“Nex,” Beadsworth said.
“Yes,” Joey said.
“Do they have the drug?”
“Yes.”
Beadsworth went silent. He was mulling over something in his mind. “Where can we find these people you worked for?”
“Not so fast,” Joey said, waving his hands in the air. “First, my protection.”
“I can’t give you that,” Beadsworth said.
Joey and I both looked at him.
“Why not?” I said.
“But I know someone who can.”
“Who?”
“Sergeant Aldrich.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.
“Can you trust him?” Joey asked.
“Yeah, can we trust him?” I said. “There’s a mole inside the force.”
Beadsworth’s face went pale. “Do you know who it is?”
Joey shook his head.
Beadsworth said slowly, “Sergeant Aldrich is in charge and our superior. It is our duty to inform him of this situation.”
Joey nodded, understanding.
“Why are you helping us?” Beadsworth inquired.
“My life is in danger. I’m no longer needed. If I stayed they would kill me.”
“All right,” Beadsworth said. “Let me see if I can arrange something.” He got up and headed for the door. I followed.
“Watch over him,” he said.
With that he left.
***
With Beadsworth gone I was left with Joey. He massaged his hands while examining the interior of my apartment. There wasn’t much to look at. The walls were adorned with old picture frames that I’d picked up from yard sales. They looked antique so I bought them. The previous tenant had left behind the sofa. After much shampooing it looked almost brand new. Almost.
The floor was hardwood, so no carpet was needed, and no vacuuming either. My landlady donated the dining table after she saw me eating on my sofa. She had bought a new one and was going to give it away anyway. My mother paid for the bedroom set, which was my moving away gift.
The television was probably the one thing that was new and the most expensive in the apartment. It was a Sony fifty-two-inch flat screen high definition with built-in stereo surround sound. It was my pride and joy. It made me want to come home every night.
“Nice television,” said Joey.
“Thanks,” I beamed like a proud father. “It’s a Sony.”
He relaxed.
“You want a drink?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
I brought him a can of Fruitopia.
After taking a sip he passed his hand through his thick hair. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I looked up at the ceiling too, but I couldn’t find anything particularly interesting up there. I concluded he was tired.
***
Hause returned, shaking his head. Joey was not at his parents’ house. Ms. Zee was worried. Where could he have gone?
Kong appeared behind the door. He didn’t look her in the eye. She knew he was angry for not being allowed to kill Joey earlier. Maybe, she should have let him. It would not have caused this problem now.
The phone rang and she picked it up. She listened to the voice on the other end and hung up with a smile.
“We know where he is,” she said.
***
“Do you have a computer?” Joey suddenly said.
“It’s old,” I answered.
“Does it have internet?”
“Yes.”
“Can I use it?”
“Yeah, sure, it’s in the bedroom.”
He jumped up and then disappeared.
A long while later he emerged looking distressed.
“You find what you were looking for?” I asked.
“Kind of,” he said. “One of my friends from college lives outside Toronto. I called him before I came to you but his number had changed. I did have his e-mail address so I just sent him a message. Hopefully he’ll e-mail back.”
“Your parents still alive?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“I mean, why don’t you go to them?”
“You crazy, these people know where my parents live. I bet you they checked to see if I was there. I can’t go to them.”
I nodded. He didn’t want his parents involved. Smart kid.
I ordered Chinese food.
We sat on the dining table sucking down noodles and munching chicken wings.
***
It was getting dark when a Sundance parked at the corner of Gerrard and Greenwood. Two figures occupied the red vehicle. Suraj was behind the wheel with Hause in the passenger seat.
They had their orders and it was simple. Go in and finish the job. Hause pulled a sawed-off shotgun from under the seat and got out. Suraj cocked his pistol and concealed it in his pocket. They were halfway across the street when they stopped.
A blue Volvo turned onto Greenwood and parked in front of the house. Two men
got out and headed for the door.
Hause and Suraj looked at each other and then doubled back.
***
I had a piece of chicken stuck between my teeth when there was a knock at the door.
Joey dropped his chicken and looked at me.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying desperately to remove the intruder from my teeth with my tongue. “It’s probably Beadsworth.”
I went to the door and peeked through the eyehole. “I think we have trouble.”
I unlocked and found Aldrich standing with his hands folded at his back. Behind him was his guard dog, Garnett.
“May we come in, Officer Rupret,” Aldrich said drily.
No. You may not. In fact, get your blonde ass out of my home. And take your mutt with you.
“Of course, sir,” I said politely.
They both moved by me, with Garnett taking loud steps. They went into the living room.
“Where is he?” Aldrich asked.
I looked around and the living room was empty. So was the kitchen. “I’ll get him.”
I found Joey hiding in my bedroom closest.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Who’s outside?” he asked.
“The guys I work for.”
“I thought it might be the guys I worked for.”
We came out and Aldrich immediately sized Joey up. The kid held his ground. He looked Aldrich directly in the eyes.
“I want protection,” Joey said.
“Your name?”
“Joseph Lenard.”
“First, Mr. Lenard, tell us what we need and then we give you your protection.”
“Okay, okay,” Joey said. “I don’t know any RACE you keep mentioning. I do know that they are close to making a new drug.”
“Nex,” Aldrich said.
Joey shook his head. “Yes, Nex or whatever. That’s what I heard them call it, too. In a couple of days they will have it and it will be all over the city.”
Aldrich said, “You mentioned there was a mole in our organization. Do you know who it is?”
“No.”
Aldrich listened. He then nodded as if he knew and understood everything. “You will accompany us and be placed in my custody.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said a voice from behind. We all turned to see Beadsworth at the door.
“Excuse me?” Aldrich demanded.
Race Page 15