by Don Easton
“Or more likely skip the funeral and drive you herself,” Dawson said.
“We’ll get you a ride,” Schneider promised. “Leave it to me.”
* * *
It was 12:40 p.m. when Wayne ushered Jack through the rear door of a church and into a small room. There he saw Betty standing beside two ATF agents who he recognized from the scene.
Betty was wearing a navy blue skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse. It struck Jack that the clothing didn’t look sombre enough for a funeral.
She appeared to read his thoughts. “Of all my outfits, Ferg liked this one the best,” she said as she approached.
Jack nodded, then swallowed. “Natasha sends her love and is sorry she can’t be here.”
“I understand. It’s okay.”
The silence that followed seemed awkward. Betty wasn’t the first officer’s wife he’d met whose husband had been murdered, but it didn’t make it any easier.
What can I possibly say that would comfort you?
She hugged him while he held the crutch with one hand and hugged her back with the other. They held each other tight for a moment before she stepped back.
“Thank you,” they each said in unison, then smiled when they realized each other’s reasons for being grateful.
No other words were needed.
Chapter Fifty-Three
It was late afternoon when Jack finally arrived at Canada Customs after being shuttled to the border by Washington State Police patrol cars. He’d called Rose when he left the church and she was there to meet him when he cleared Customs.
“You’ve had quite a time, Sergeant Taggart,” she said as he got in the car.
Jack was taken by surprise. “Really? I got it?”
“Staffing called this morning,” Rose replied mundanely. “The new position in our office is official. You need to confirm that you’ll accept it, but yes, then you’ll have your third stripe.”
“Super. And Laura?”
“She’s being offered her corporal’s stripes and can move into your spot, providing you move out of it, that is.”
“I’ll accept it. That’s a given.”
“Okay then.” Rose paused, then, as if it was an afterthought, said, “Congratulations.”
You don’t seem particularly happy … or were you so certain that we’d be promoted that you aren’t surprised?
He cleared his throat. “Have you called Laura to let her know? I’m certain she’ll have another piña colada on the beach to celebrate.”
“I thought you should be the one to break the news to her.”
“Thank you.”
“How was the funeral?” Rose asked, then glanced at her watch.
Her tone sounds obligatory, as if it is something she should ask. It’s like she doesn’t care.
Jack frowned, then thought, I guess when it comes down to it, most police funerals are the same. Solemn … depressing … bagpipes … containing your grief to appear strong for the public. Followed by the release of raw emotion at the wake.
“You did make an appearance, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I spoke to his wife before the funeral. I wanted to avoid the media.” He paused. “I also don’t believe in going to funerals. It seems so phony to have someone preaching over someone they probably didn’t know.”
“I agree.”
Any joy Jack felt at being promoted had vanished as he thought about the funerals he’d attended in the past. “I don’t want one if I die, but in this case I thought I owed it to Betty to show my respect.”
Rose appeared to pick up on how he felt. “Tired?” she asked.
“Exhausted. Have only had about three or four hours sleep in the last two days.”
Rose bit her lower lip as if thinking about something.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked. “Is everything okay?”
Rose cast him a sideways glance. “You tell me. This afternoon I received a call from Lexton after she’d gotten off the phone with Inspector Dyck.”
“I see.” Jack looked out the passenger window. “Cold for May, don’t you think?”
“You’re not going to ask what it was about?”
Jack looked at her. “If I was talking to Lexton, I’d play innocent, but with you I decided not to pretend.”
“Oh,” Rose replied. After a pause she said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence … I think.”
“You think?”
“I know for you that trust is not an easy issue and I appreciate you being open. At the same time, I have to admit that the secrets you hold scare me.”
Jack was quiet for a moment. “It’s not the ones I hold that scare you. It’s the ones I tell you about that keep you awake at night.”
“Those I can deal with. It’s the unknown that worries me more.”
“I see.”
I’m so bloody tired I can’t think straight.
“So … anything you’d like to tell me?”
He looked at her. Guess she’s not going to let this drop.
“Forget ‘like’ to tell me,” Rose prodded. “I know you don’t, but do anyway.”
Jack gazed out through the windshield and allowed himself to take a deep breath before turning back. “I take it that Erich Vath was murdered today?”
Rose glanced at him. “I figured you knew.”
“Do you know the details? How did it happen? Was whoever responsible caught?”
Rose looked at him in surprise. “You don’t know?”
“No, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked. I only guessed that it was him.” He saw her face brighten. Good, maybe you don’t think I had a hand in it. Sorry, Rose. I trust you, but there’s no reason for you to know.
“When he walked out to his vehicle to go to work this morning someone shot him. Once in the chest and once in the head. A witness who heard the shots looked out their window and saw one person running away and said the person was wearing a hoodie and had on a ball cap.”
“That’s what Kondrat and Pratt wore when they killed Irving.”
“I know. A gun was also located at the scene.”
“Okay, tell Lexton, or I-HIT for that matter, that a Glock with laser grips might indicate the Death Heads. Kel-Tec 9mm pistols could indicate the United Front.” He yawned. “Then again, they should know that.”
“It was neither. They found a Walther PPK.”
“A Walter PPK?” Jack smiled. “Hey, it sounds like the culprit is James Bond.”
“I don’t think Lexton would find that amusing,” Rose replied.
“Does she want to see me?”
Rose shook her head. “She knows what you’ve been through in the last couple of days. I’m to take you home, but relay anything you may have to say about the matter.”
“If it had nothing to do with the Death Heads or the United Front, then I’d suspect revenge as a motive,” Jack stated.
“That came up in my conversation with her, but as she pointed out, there’s been nothing on the news yet about what took place last night.”
“A news announcement wouldn’t have been necessary. Tell her that Reverend Bob had many friends and followers. If you check my file at work, you’ll see lots of photographs, including one where he was giving a speech in a room full of men. At least one of whom was a county sheriff.”
“I see.” Rose appeared to think about it, then said, “I imagine there were also lots of officers involved once you called the ATF to let them know where you were.”
“Dozens from multiple agencies showed up. It might not be on the news yet, but word of Ferg’s killer being caught is likely known to every cop in Washington.”
“You want me to suggest to Lexton that a cop came up from the States first thing this morning and did the murder?”
“There’d have been a lot of talk about what happened last night. We have white supremacists up here, too. A call could have been made. It wouldn’t be a leap of faith to think someone killed him because they thought he was an informant.�
��
“A leap of faith,” Rose mused. “Do you think Lexton will buy it?”
Oh, shit. She sees through me.
Jack sighed. “I suspect she’s smarter than that. You are.”
Rose looked at him curiously. “I suspect she may be smarter than me, but she doesn’t know you as well as I do. Perhaps she’ll believe it.”
“Hope so. I’d like her to trust me,” Jack replied.
Rose shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if she places her trust in you or not. As long as there isn’t evidence to the contrary, she’s forced to accept the evidence before her.”
“Exactly.” Jack brooded as he stared out the window.
As long as there isn’t evidence to the contrary.
Author’s Note
From 1968 to 2011 over 1,516,000 Americans have been killed with firearms within their own country. Far more than that have been wounded, and many of those have been left with permanent disabilities.
In 2013, according to the American Centers for Disease Control, slightly less than two-thirds of the gun-related deaths were from suicides while one-third were from homicides. Approximately 1 percent was from other causes, such as accidents.
Of interest is the fact that in 1996, Australia severely tightened their gun laws. According to the Journal of Public Health Policy, over the next seven years, both the suicide and homicide rates dropped by half.
In 2010, it was reported that 358 homicides in the United States involved a rifle and 6,009 involved a handgun. A further 1,939 homicides involving firearms did not note the type of firearm used.
In 2013, there were 33,636 firearms-related deaths in the United States, which was categorized as 11,208 homicides, 21,175 suicides, 505 deaths classified as accidental, and 281 classified as “undetermined intent.”
In 2015, firearms in the United States were used to kill 13,286 people, excluding suicides.
The World Health Organization, in a study of developed countries such as Australia, New Zealand, and Japan, as well as those in Europe, discovered that the homicide rate in the United States is seven times higher than elsewhere.
Attempts by American politicians to curb the slaughter of people due to firearms has been unsuccessful because of the culture of fear, strong support from pro-gun groups, and the protection afforded by the Second Amendment in the U.S. Constitution, which ensures the right of the people to collect and bear arms.
The consequence of the gun laws in the United States may best be illustrated by a recent statistic from Global News, which reported that you’re more likely to be shot to death in the United States than you are to die from a car accident in Canada.
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