An Element of Risk

by Don Easton

  “No, I’ve never heard of the guy.”

  “He doesn’t have a record and was married with two kids. Besides being a paramedic he did home renovations on the side.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

  “I suspect he was shot by gangbangers.”

  “If you suspect gangbangers, you should be talking to CFSEU. They deal with them.”

  “I did, and I spoke with Roger. He doesn’t know the guy either, but told me that you helped him out a couple of days ago when the Death Heads threatened a prosecutor. He said you have some pull in Satans Wrath and suggested I call you.”

  “I wondered what prompted you to call. You must really be desperate to call me.”

  Connie wasn’t in the mood for humour. “I want the guys who did this, Jack. I want them bad.”

  “You want them bad, do you?” His tone sounded ominous.

  “I didn’t call you to have them whacked.”

  “Whacked?”

  “Quit jerking my chain. You know what I mean. I’d like for once for you to pass on whatever you can find out to me and then butt out.”

  “I’m sorry, but as I already said, I can’t help.”

  “What if Irving was dirty? Maybe a dealer for Satans Wrath? Roger said you could tell me if that were so.”

  “I do have a high level source with Satans Wrath. If Irving was involved with them I’d know and would’ve already told you.”

  “Still, your source obviously has clout if he was able to get the gangbangers to back away from the prosecutor. Roger thinks there’s a good chance the perps were from either the Death Heads or the United Front. Get your guy to find out.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s too risky for my guy to ask those sorts of questions. Giving guidance to the street gangs and telling them not to follow certain behaviour is one thing. To ask a pointed question about who killed someone is a different story. It’s not something you ask. Especially when you’re not even in the same gang.”

  Goddamn him.

  “If you’re not sure, maybe it wasn’t even gang-­related,” Jack suggested. “I’d be putting my guy at risk for nothing. Maybe Irving was having an affair and somebody’s husband paid for a hit … or his wife is screwing around and wanted to get rid of him. Have you checked for insurance policies yet? Or maybe someone made a mistake and shot the wrong guy. Did he move into the place recently?”

  “No, photos I saw of their oldest kid were taken in the yard I’m standing in. She looked to be learning to walk. The kid is in kindergarten now.” Connie paused. “Jack, what happened here isn’t right. This is a decent family. They dragged the poor guy out from under some bushes and took turns shooting him in his face while his wife was watching from the window.”

  “I’m sorry, Connie. Wish I could help. I really do.”

  “She heard them laughing as they were doing it. I want these guys arrested and charged … and I mean that. Please, I’m begging you. Ask your source to nose around. These guys need to be caught.”

  “Laughing?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t that sound like the sort of behaviour you’d expect from gangbangers? Maybe even high on the dope they get from Satans Wrath?”

  Jack paused. “Connie, what you told me about is horrible and I hope you solve it, but my guy can’t ask. You need to see the big picture. If it was someone connected to Satans Wrath, there wouldn’t be a problem for my guy to nose around. Going to another gang to ask specifics would burn him.”

  Okay, how do I get this asshole to do it?

  “You’re good at what you do, Connie. I’m sure you’ll find out who did it on your own sooner or later.”

  “Hang on,” Connie said. “Hobbs spotted something … what the hell? Jack! Maybe I’m wrong about them being punks. I’d like you to come here and see something.”

  “What?”

  “What do you mean what? It’s weird … I don’t work organized crime. It’s better if you see it in person.”

  “Can’t you describe it to me?”

  “Jesus, Jack. I’m at a homicide. The wife is crying … so’s her baby. I’ve gotta arrange for someone to pick up her kid from kindergarten. The news media is driving us crazy. What’s with you? Are you too lazy to get off your ass and at least give me an opinion about something?”

  “Okay, okay. Give me the address and Laura and I’ll be over. Have someone meet us a block away with a couple of Forensic garments and then drive us in so nobody sees us or our vehicle. We’re UC operators. I don’t want to be on the front-page news.”

  “That’s right, I forgot. The news you generate is usually in the obit section. No worries. I’ll have someone meet you.”

  After giving the details Connie ended the call, then turned to Hobbs. “I can’t believe it. In the past he’s often butted into cases uninvited. This time I cringe at the thought of having him involved, then when I ask him he doesn’t want to help.”

  “Sounds like he’s coming over, though,” Hobbs noted.

  “Yeah, but if he does help we’ll be damned lucky if we don’t end up with more bodies.”

  “Then why’d you trick him into coming over?”

  Connie sighed. “Jack has a source who could probably find out who did this, but being the asshole he is he doesn’t want to risk having his source ask for fear it’ll burn him.” She gestured to the body. “Christ, look at this guy … his wife … kids … I’ll do whatever it takes to solve it.”

  “You’ve proven that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You called Jack.”

  Chapter Nine

  After parking a few blocks away, Jack and Laura were met by a constable from I-HIT who supplied them each with Forensic garments and then drove them to the scene. They were then escorted inside the front door where Connie met them.

  “What is it you want us to look at?” Jack asked.

  “Can you sit for a moment?” Connie asked, gesturing to the living room. “The mom is in the kitchen writing a statement. Hobbs is with her, but I need to make sure he asks her about something. Grab a seat and I’ll be right back. Then I can show you.”

  Jack saw a uniformed policeman sitting on the sofa, unsuccessfully trying to soothe a baby. He opted to sit in a chair while Laura sat on the sofa.

  “Here, let me try,” Laura said, reaching for the baby.

  “Be my guest,” the officer said, seemingly anxious to give up his charge. “Her name’s Hannah.”

  Laura cuddled and rocked Hannah and she stopped crying immediately.

  “You got kids?” the officer asked.

  “No, only wish I did,” Laura replied.

  Jack glanced around the room as he waited. He saw the photo Connie had mentioned, along with several others. Seem like such a happy family. I remember when my boys were that young. Sometimes wish I could go back in time and enjoy them all over again.

  “Okay, ready,” Connie announced. “Follow me out back.”

  Jack trailed along behind and caught the haggard, tear-stained face of the woman writing a statement as they passed through to the back door. Connie mentioned they have one kid in kindergarten. And a baby. He exchanged a look with Laura. By her face, he knew she was also saddened.

  Once outside, Connie stopped beside Irving’s body. She appeared to be thinking about something.

  “So what do you have to show us?” Jack prodded.

  “Hang on a sec,” Connie replied. “I want to double check something first.” She then pulled back the sheet to look at Irving’s face. “Yeah, multiple shots for sure.” She looked at Jack. “How many do you think?”

  Jack crouched down beside her for a better look. “Hard to tell. I’d say three or four. Looks like more, but they’re probably exit wounds,” he added, then stood up.

  “Yes, his wife, Rhonda, said she heard two shots out front right after Stan left the house.” Connie then rose and her voice softened. “She was on the sofa breastfeeding her three-month-old baby, Hannah, when it happened. She saw Stan stumb
ling as he ran past the front of his truck and around the side of the house. Two guys were chasing him.”

  You’re using their first names. Personalizing it and you threw in the bit about the baby as an extra. Damn it, Connie. I know what you’re up to.

  Connie continued. “She then grabbed her phone and called Emergency. As she did she heard more shots and then voices in her backyard. She ran to the kitchen window, still holding Hannah in her arms, then saw them drag her husband out by the ankles and shoot him in the head.”

  “I don’t need to hear those details,” Jack said gruffly. “Show us what you called us over to see.”

  Connie lifted some branches on a California lilac bush. “Take a look,” she said, “but don’t touch.”

  Jack and Laura squatted and peered into the bushes.

  “Two Glocks,” Jack said. “Both with laser sight grips,” he noted as they stood up. “So?”

  “After it happened, a stolen Chevy Nova was located about ten blocks from here. It’d been torched and was still on fire when the call came in.”

  Jack shrugged. “Figures. What’s it got to do with us?”

  Connie gestured to the Glocks. “Two expensive weapons with laser sight grips? Come on! Does that sound like punks to you? Plus torching a car?”

  “The gangers know to torch a car if they used it while killing someone.”

  “Okay, you’re right. But guns with laser sights? Roger told me that most of the ones they’ve seized were Saturday night specials. He said even those were sometimes kept after a shooting because it was too hard for the punks to get guns. No guns of this quality have ever been found, let alone tossed away.”

  “Is this what you wanted us to look at?” Jack replied. He didn’t like being conned and let his anger show. “You could have said that over the phone.”

  Connie stood her ground and her tone reflected Jack’s. “You’re telling me you’re not interested in where they got the guns? I’d think that’d be part of that big picture you’re always talking about.”

  “It sparks my interest, but as far as who did it goes you said yourself you believe it was one of the street gangs. They’re not our problem.”

  “No, but Satans Wrath are.”

  “What have they got to do with it?”

  “What if it was Satans Wrath who supplied them with the guns? Your source would know or could find out who they sold them to.”

  “For your info’, Wrath funnels dope to the gangs — not guns. The bikers look at them as not only being idiots, but also a potential enemy. I’ve no idea where the street gangs get their guns and as I said before, it would jeopardize my guy to ask.”

  “So you’re refusing to help?”

  “Maybe down the road people might talk about it and he might hear something, but that’s different than going out and asking questions at this point.” He stared at Connie. When she didn’t respond, he added, “You’ve wasted our time. We’re done.”

  “Okay, come back inside,” Connie pouted. “I’ll have someone give you a ride back to your car.”

  Once inside, Connie glanced at Hobbs, who was sitting with Rhonda while reading her statement. “Wait in the living room,” Connie whispered. “Looks like he’s almost done. The others are busy. I’ll get him to give you a lift.”

  Jack and Laura returned to the living room. Connie’s voice was audible from the kitchen, asking Rhonda if she had someone who could pick Emma up from kindergarten.

  A moment later Connie reappeared and looked at Jack. “She finished her statement. Hobbs did a quick analysis and it suggests she’s telling the truth.”

  Jack had taken a course in statement analysis, as well. Often it wasn’t what a person said, but when they said certain things in their statements that were of importance. Mathematical formulas were then used to analyze the statements and had been proven to be surprisingly accurate at separating truthful statements from ones that were fabricated.

  No surprise Hobbs thinks she’s telling the truth. Everything I’ve seen indicates that. So what if she is? It’s not my concern.

  “Hobbs taking us back?” he asked.

  “Yes, but first there’s one thing I’d honestly like your opinion on. It’s her description of the killers.”

  “Description?” Jack asked.

  “With all your undercover experience, maybe you’ll be able to flush out some more information from her in that regard. Come and listen to how she describes them,” she added, turning on her heel.

  Jack and Laura followed her into the kitchen where Connie picked up Rhonda’s statement, then skimmed through it, apparently looking for a particular segment. As she did, Jack took in his surroundings. Easter bunny on the fridge. I can remember my boys making one like that when they were in kindergarten. It hung on our fridge for about —

  “Rhonda, this is Jack and Laura,” Connie said, breaking the silence. “They’re experts when it comes to gangs.”

  Rhonda’s expression said she was confused as to why Jack and Laura would be there or any reason that her husband could have been targeted by a gang.

  Connie cleared her throat. “Rhonda, I’ve read your statement, but before Jack and Laura leave, let me read back what you said and see if there is anything, anything at all you could add.”

  Jack saw the tears stream down Rhonda’s face as she relived her nightmare while Connie read the statement.

  Come on, Connie. Do you really have to do this?

  After getting to the end of the statement, where it described what the shooters were wearing and the fact that they were laughing, Connie lowered the statement and looked at Rhonda. “Are you sure that’s everything? Think hard about what you saw and heard. Is there anything else at all?”

  “No,” Rhonda cried, then between sobs, said, “I was phoning … I … no, that’s all I can remember. I’m sorry.”

  “Jack,” Connie said, “is there anything you’d like to ask her? Anything about their clothing that is significant to you at all? Perhaps related to a specific gang?”

  “No,” Jack replied, making a conscious effort to keep the ire he felt for Connie out of his voice due to the empathy he felt for Rhonda. “Lots of people wear that clothing. It doesn’t mean they’re even gang-related.”

  “I see,” Connie replied. She then caught Jack’s eye and gestured to the fridge. Her words oozed sarcasm. “I suppose, as the bunny on the fridge likely exemplifies, this family doesn’t fit into that big picture of yours. Thank you so much for your help. I’m sorry if you found coming here a complete waste of your time.”

  Jack caught the horrified, disgusted look that Rhonda gave him.

  Chapter Ten

  Neither Hobbs, Jack, nor Laura spoke a word as they were driven back to where they’d parked their SUV. Jack’s anger manifested itself when he slammed the door to Hobbs’s vehicle as he got out.

  “I feel the same way,” Laura noted as Hobbs drove off. “That was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in my life. Did you see the look Rhonda gave us?”

  “I saw,” Jack replied as he opened the door to their SUV and got in. Once there he didn’t start the engine. Instead he clenched his fists while taking a deep breath. When he exhaled he slowly opened his hands in a vain attempt to relieve the stress.

  “It was all a set-up,” Laura seethed. “Hoping we’d take pity on the woman and help out.”

  “Of course it was.”

  “Connie could’ve told us about the guns over the phone. As far as what she said to us before we left, that … that was plain nasty.” She paused. “I used to respect Connie. Not anymore.”

  “I told her when she phoned that I wouldn’t risk our source,” Jack said. “I would if it was viable, but to send him out on a fishing expedition like she wants would get him killed.”

  “No kidding,” Laura snapped. “You’d think she’d appreciate that.”

  “Maybe she’s never had an informant. Most members haven’t.”

  “Whether she has or not, she should st
ill respect what we tell her and not pull a stunt like that.”

  “It pisses me off. I don’t think she understands the situation. Every time we use him, we put him at risk. It was bad enough getting him to help the prosecutor. To ask him for help over this wouldn’t be right.”

  “Definitely not. I agree.”

  Jack started the engine, then turned to Laura again. “Connie’s good at what she does. If it was someone from the street gangs, she’ll be able to solve it without our help.”

  “I thought the same thing,” Laura replied. When Jack continued to stare at her, she said, “So, back to the office?”

  Jack scowled. “I’m so frustrated I don’t know what to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know if I’m angry at Connie or at life itself.” He stared out the windshield a moment, but didn’t put the SUV in gear. Then he turned back to Laura. “You saw what Connie was going through. Personally, I don’t know how she can handle it. I felt so bad for the wife. It was horrible.”

  “I know,” Laura said. “I had to clench my jaw most of the time to keep the tears out of my eyes.”

  Jack grimaced. “The truth be known, on one hand I’m ticked at Connie for trying to con us, but on the other hand I don’t begrudge her for trying. It’s her job to solve the case. It was pretty damned emotional in there. You and I’d have probably done the same thing if we were in her shoes.”

  “Maybe,” Laura admitted.

  Jack hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Damn it! I can’t get the image of the bunny rabbit out of my head.”

  “Thanks, now it’s in my head, too.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Maybe it’s better than the image I have of holding their baby.”

  Not an image I want to remember, either. His mind raced. What to do? What to do?

  “What’re you thinking,” Laura asked.

  Jack took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Let’s talk to our friend and run things past him. See what he says. Maybe he’ll have an idea that we haven’t thought of.”

  * * *

  “For the amount of time I’ve been in this graveyard, I’m starting to think it might become my permanent home,” Lance said dryly. “And I don’t mean above ground. This is the second time in a week.”