“I don’t mean Drennan,” he said with a grin. “Although that’s not a bad idea. No, I mean the Riverwood Rapist. What other choice do I have? And it’s my job, isn’t it?”
“”We really need to use me, Nick,” she said.
Drumm looked at her sitting in his chair, looking so professional in a sweater and slacks, and he knew she was right. “I agree,” he said. “But it’s not because of Drennan. We’re not getting anywhere and we have to try something. We can’t just wait around and hope for him to make a mistake.”
“He hasn’t been making a lot of those,” said Lori. “Although maybe that ring…”
“I wouldn’t put much faith in that leading anywhere,” said Drumm. In his opinion, most cases were solved by old-fashioned police work. Forensics and evidence collected at a crime scene were rarely of any use in catching a suspect. “We’ll put you out on the street as a decoy. But it’s too soon to expect him to make another attack. It’ll be a week or so.”
“This latest one came sooner than we expected,” objected Lori.
“It did,” agreed Drumm. “So maybe he’s changing his pattern. We’ll see. We’re going to have to start putting you on a bus every night and having you walk somewhere. Same route every night, same house or apartment as your destination. We have to assume he’ll be watching you every step of the way. You’re in for a lot of long, cold nights.”
“Whose house?” asked Lori.
“I asked around and found a uniform who lives in Riverwood. The name is Linda Furtado. She’s agreed we can use her place as a destination.” Drumm stood up and went to a map of the city pinned up on his wall. There were six pins in it, all on different streets. “She lives here. He chooses a different location each time, but there are only so many bus routes and suitable spots. The chances are he will pick a new road. So I’ve checked with the YTC and there are three bus routes which I think are most likely. These.”
Lori said, “We know that he doesn’t ride the bus.” They had talked about this at length and had decided that the attacker would find it too risky. There’d be too much chance that someone would remember seeing him. They figured he was scouting his locations from the street and picking his victims some days in advance. “So you think he’ll be lurking around one of those three streets trying to find a good spot. And then a new victim.”
They had talked about this, too, whether he chose his women in advance after tailing them for a few days, or whether he just picked one who happened along at the right time. They had come to no conclusion but were leaning towards the rapist being a planner.
“I think it’s our best chance,” said Drumm. “Although I don’t like using you.” He had thought about employing someone from another department, like Sue Oliver from Sex Crimes, but he had decided against it. Lori was extremely capable, she was younger and fitter if there was trouble, and she had been involved from the beginning. She was the clear and obvious choice. It was just his wish to protect his own staff that had made him reluctant to use her.
Loris was impatient. “We’re past that. It’s time.”
“I know.” Drumm pointed to the map. “We’ll start with the Albert Street route. You can get on the bus here tonight, and get off here.” He stabbed with his finger at a spot near Linda Furtado’s home. “There’s a walk of several hundred metres to her place. It goes right past a small park.” He turned to look at her. “He should find that suitable for his needs.”
Lori shivered. “It’s creepy to think of someone planning things out like that. You’ve been thorough.”
Drumm said, “We’ve been thorough, yes. And you’ll be in no danger. We’ll have you wired, and we’ll have lots of people in the area. We’ll have Sue on the bus, Morgan in the park, and Simpson on the street. And me, of course. Langella will be in Furtado’s house waiting for you. If he shows up, we’ll get him.”
Anita Langella, Jake Simpson and Ryan Morgan were three other detectives from Homicide. “Very thorough,” she said. “I approve. It looks good. Let’s do it.”
Drumm moved to his desk and sat down. “Right. You’re to take no risks. If there are any red flags, use the code word Sheltie and we’ll be there instantly. If anything seems wrong or out of place, speak the code word. We’ll be listening to everything you say, and we’ll be there in a heartbeat. Understood?”
Lori nodded. “I get you, Nick. Sheltie it is. Good choice.” She looked at the map and then at Drumm. “Tonight then?”
Drumm nodded. “We’ll start tonight. Be here at ten and we’ll go over things again. You’ll board the bus at eleven, and you’ll be at your destination by eleven fifteen, assuming normal weather and traffic. If he goes for it, we’ll have him. If he doesn’t, we’ll all stand down and have an early night. Take the afternoon off. You’ll be working extra tonight, one way or another.”
Lori stood and moved to the doorway. “Take the afternoon off? And who’ll look after you?” His desk phone rang again. “Don’t get that.”
Drumm looked at the phone and then at her. “Sooner or later I’ll have to face the music,” he said.
“Make it later,” said Lori. “Silence is golden in this case.”
eleven
The ride to the airport was uneventful. Three buses had been waiting for the unhappy Canadians whose misfortune it was to return to Toronto this day. McDonald got on the last one after making sure there was nobody he knew on it. He watched Charlotte and Sean Gill, Kathy Walters and Aaron and Deborra Whiteside get onto another bus. The last thing he wanted was to sit beside one of them and listen to them harangue him on the subject of Mike Kennedy.
He hadn’t really noticed the airport when he’d landed a week ago. It turned out to be old, small and jammed with departing tourists and their luggage. McDonald got into a long, long line of unhappy people and resigned himself to waiting in the sticky heat. He couldn’t see Mike Kennedy’s friends anywhere and that was fine with him. He wasn’t worried about the plane because everyone would likely have the same seats as on the way down and he didn’t think that he’d been anywhere near them. And if he was beside one of them by some mischance, he’d just sweet talk the cabin attendant and get moved.
McDonald eventually checked his bags and got his boarding pass. The waiting room stint passed quickly and he was on the plane, near the back, and blessedly by himself. He ordered a beer and settled back to think warm thoughts about Inge and Lucie. It had been one hell of a vacation, just what he needed. Heat, a couple of hot women, decent food, good drinks and he was coming home with a couple of boxes of genuine Cuban cigars, bought at a fantastic price. His leg was better and he was actually looking forward to getting back to work.
His enthusiasm had waned somewhat by the time the plane landed at Pearson Airport in the early evening. He was tired and only partly amused by the cabin attendant’s words over the PA system upon touchdown. “Welcome back to reality,” she said, and there was a burst of sardonic laughter. The temperature in Toronto was -11C.
McDonald shivered as he left the airport and entered the parking garage. It was forty degrees colder than in Cuba and this would take some getting used to. He found his car, stowed his luggage and headed northeast towards York. He put some Mozart on to listen to as he made his way up Highway 427. The music always helped him relax.
His thoughts turned to the York Police Services and the job that was waiting for him. On an impulse, he turned towards the new headquarters building. He’d stop in and see what was going on. I must be crazy, he thought. Stop! Turn around, get yourself home!
He kept going and pulled into the parking lot.
twelve
McDonald found Drumm and Lori Singh sitting and eating in Drumm’s office. He looked at the greasy cardboard containers strewn around and said, “Chinese? You could have invited me.”
Lori swiveled around in her chair to look at him. “Is it Monday already? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Dick,” said Drumm. “Sit down and help yourself. We’ve got plenty.�
��
“I ate on the plane.” McDonald perched himself on the edge of Drumm’s desk. “And it’s nice to see you too, love,” he said to Lori.
“Don’t call me love,” she said automatically. She looked him over. “You don’t have much of a tan.”
McDonald winked at her. “Spent all my time indoors, love.” He reached over and picked up a chicken ball, examined it critically and stuffed it into his mouth.
Lori rolled her eyes and turned back to her food. “He’s back to normal,” she said to Drumm.
“How’s the leg?” asked Drumm. He picked up some rice with his chopsticks.
“It’s not bad at all. I’m not a hundred percent yet but I’m ready for duty.”
“Light duty, of course,” said Drumm. “That’s the standard protocol. We can’t have you chasing after a suspect just yet. But there’s a lot going on; we’ll be glad to have you back on the roster.”
“What’s up?” asked McDonald. “I’m completely out of the loop. I couldn’t even get internet down there, and I didn’t take my phone.”
Lori finished her meal, got up and put her plate in the garbage. “I’ll fill him in,” she said to Drumm. “You finish your dinner.” She spent the next few minutes telling him the latest on the Riverwood Rapist case, Drennan’s actions and the plan to use her as a decoy.
“Holy shit,” said McDonald. He looked at Drumm. “Drennan’s really got it in for you, doesn’t he?”
Drumm just waved at him.
McDonald stared at him for a minute and then said to Lori, “So you’re playing the part tonight?” He looked at her black pants and grey turtleneck and said, “Shouldn’t you be dressed more provocatively? You know, maybe a miniskirt and some cleavage?”
Lori frowned. “I’m going to have a ski jacket on as well. I’m not supposed to be a hooker, you know, just a working woman on her way home. Get your mind out of the gutter, can’t you? Haven’t you been listening to what I said?”
McDonald grinned. “Sorry, love, I can’t concentrate when I’m so close to you.”
“Definitely back to normal,” Lori said. She moved to the door. “I’ll be out here. Let me know when you’re ready.”
McDonald watched her go. Then he said, “So you’re on the hot seat, Nick. Do you think this plan will work?”
Drumm shrugged. “If it doesn’t, we’ll try something else. And we can always hope the double R makes a mistake.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s made too many so far.”
“No. He hasn’t.” Drumm was finished eating. He got up now and disposed of the remains of the meal. He sat down again and said, “Tell me about Cuba. Did it do you good? Are you really fit?”
McDonald sat in the chair that Lori had just vacated. “Well, I can’t run a marathon just yet. In fact, I couldn’t even run around the block. The muscles aren’t strong enough. But I can walk just fine and it gets better every day.” He waved a hand at Drumm. “To tell you the truth, I’m sick of talking about it.”
Drumm nodded. “Weather was good?”
“Hot and sunny every day.”
“Just like here,” said Drumm, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair. “Did you do anything special, or just lay around and bake?”
McDonald ran his hand through his sandy hair, smoothing it back. “Well, let’s see. I ate, drank, ate some more, drank some more…” He was smiling and ticking off points on his fingers as he spoke. “…swam, walked on the beach, danced, snorkeled, met a few women…” He was grinning.
“Of course,” said Drumm. He was smiling too, well used to McDonald’s ways.
“I did a tour of Trinidad and got a great deal on cigars. Want one?”
“I don’t smoke,” said Drumm. “As you know.”
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” said McDonald, snapping his fingers. “I investigated a death. Reluctantly.”
“Do tell,” said Drumm.
McDonald proceeded to give Drumm a quick rundown of Mike Kennedy’s death and his subsequent involvement with the Gills, the Whitesides and Kennedy’s fiancée.
Towards the end, Drumm glanced at his watch and McDonald stopped abruptly. “Sorry, running at the mouth here and you’ve got things to do, I know.”
Drumm nodded. “I have to get Lori fitted with the wire and make sure everyone is on the same page.” He stood up. “Sounds like you did everything you could with this Kennedy guy. Too bad you had to deal with that on holiday.”
McDonald stood up too. “Well, it could have been worse. Even though those folks weren’t too pleased with me by the end.” He grinned. “I don’t understand it – people usually think I’m a saint. But at least I’ll never see them again.”
“Go home, Dick. We’ll see you Monday morning. Get some sleep.”
“Will do, boss.” McDonald turned at the doorway and said, “Good luck tonight. May the fair Lori Singh be assaulted and bring you what you wish.”
“Right,” said Drumm. “Just what I need.”
Drumm’s plan had worked without a hitch, except for the not insignificant fact that the Riverwood Rapist had not made an appearance. But then, Lori thought, they hadn’t really expected him to. It was too soon after the last assault.
She had boarded at 11:03 p.m., shivering because the bus was late and it was so cold. Even though there was a shelter to protect her from the wind and snow, she was chilled to the bone by the time she mounted the steps of the vehicle. The bus driver was not part of the plan and he made no eye contact with her as she deposited her token. She was the only passenger to get on at this stop. There were six other people on the bus, one of whom was Sue Oliver, whom she knew well. She avoided looking at her and took a seat by herself near the back, as arranged, and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. As she did so, she spoke quietly, “All aboard. All present and accounted for.”
She heard Drumm’s voice, tinny in her ear. “Good. Sit tight. Stay warm. We’re all around you.”
Lori looked at the dirty, wet floor of the bus, at the grimy windows and the five other legitimate passengers. Even in the poor light she could sense their unhappiness. She was riding this bus for a few days at most; these people were in it for the duration, and most of them would be here next week, next month, next year.
She looked out the window at the darkness, interrupted here and there by the glaring lights of a strip mall. The bus stopped and started periodically, always with loud noises, as if the vehicle were protesting its treatment. Out there somewhere she knew, were two unmarked police vehicles, one in front and one in back. Drumm was in the lead car. Sue Oliver would get off at the stop after hers and make her way back to the house.
“Approaching your stop,” said Drumm’s voice.
“Roger,” said Lori. She reached up and pulled the cord, alerting the driver. The bus wheezed to a halt as she made her way to the rear exit. The doors opened with a whoosh and she descended carefully to the pavement and stepped away from the bus. As it pulled away, she started walking along the sidewalk, without looking around.
She was suddenly incredibly tense. It was one thing to talk about this sort of thing in a warm office, it was quite another to actually experience it. They had agreed that she must not look around as she walked but keep her head down as if she were concentrating on not slipping. But she found it very difficult not to look behind her. Somewhere out there was a vicious rapist, a man who would put a knife to her eye and rip her clothes off and brutally assault her.
Lori shivered and said to herself, that’s not going to happen. There’s a whole team out there watching over me. She kept her feet moving and she saw the park approaching on her left. That’s where he’ll be, she thought. If it’s going to happen, that’s where he’ll strike. She forced herself to keep moving but her eyes were checking the bushes for any sign of an attacker. Right there, she thought, that’s where I would choose for an ambush. She neared the spot and then was past it and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to look behind her. She kept going,
forcing herself to walk in the same manner she had been showing since getting off the bus, neither slowing down nor speeding up.
They had talked about whether she should carry her Glock and it had been decided that she wouldn’t. She had agreed with the decision, had in fact suggested it herself, but now she wasn’t so sure. It was a hard thing to walk along like this, alone and unprotected.
As if sensing her unease, Drumm’s voice came in her ear. “We’re right here with you, Lori.”
Under cover of a cough, she whispered, “No worries.”
Nothing had happened. She had walked past the park without incident, turned onto William Street and entered the home of Constable Furtado. There she had gratefully drank some hot tea with Anita Langella while the rest of the surveillance team returned to the station. Drumm returned an hour or so later to pick her up at a rear entrance.
“We have to assume that he’s watching his victim, making sure she’s a safe and desirable target. He might not work that way but we have to assume that he does.” Drumm had gone over this in the station several times. “If he does operate this way, he follows the woman to her home a day or two or maybe three, learning her routines. So, Lori, you will have to stay at Furtado’s home for an hour or so after you arrive. Then put the lights out. I’ll come to the back entrance and pick you up. If he does watch, he’ll have given up by then.”
“What if he sees Linda?” Lori asked.
“What of it?” said Drumm. “He doesn’t know she’s a cop. You’re sharing a home with her, that’s all. He’s not interested in the house or who lives there, just that you are alone at a certain time of night, walking along the street,, and that’s your destination.”
The plan had worked out very well. Everybody had played their part but nothing had happened. Everybody had cooperated, she thought, except the Riverwood Rapist. Or perhaps he had too. Maybe he had been out there the whole time, observing her. He could have been there in that park, watching her walk by. He might be there tomorrow night. Or the next night. She would have to do her thing again and again.
A Cuban Death Page 7