Dead Ends (13 page)

Jack and Laura glanced at each other. Crime Stoppers had received several tips about dealers in that school.

Jack looked at Rodine and continued. “How many labs are Satans Wrath getting a percentage from?”

“I don't know. Lots. I do know it ain't wise to try and rip them. Not even a little bit, 'cause either the solutions wouldn't add up or it would have to be diluted. When they were beating on me they said I diluted it with baking soda. I told them I wasn't stupid enough to try and rip them. The fuckin' bastards. I trust Sy, so it had to be one of the bikers who ripped me.”

“You said the solutions wouldn't add up if someone was ripping them off?” asked Jack.

“Do you know the main cook we had when we got busted with all those labs last time?”

“Yes.”

“Cocktail examined the records that the police turned over to his defence lawyer. From all the empty chemical containers the cops seized, Cocktail calculated that more dope was being made than the bikers knew about.”

“So Satans Wrath were being short-changed on their percentage,” said Jack.

“Exactly. Varrick told me the cook took a long time to die.”

“His body was found in an alley,” said Jack. Seeing the nervous look on Rodine's face, he quickly changed the subject and said, “So basically, a network of labs has been set up, with the original training, expertise, and chemicals coming from some guy by the name of Cocktail.”

Rodine paused for a moment, reflecting upon the situation he found himself in, and what the future would hold if the bikers found out.

“Trust us,” said Jack. “We will never do anything to divulge who you are. Never. So answer our questions.”

Rodine swallowed, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Yeah, we follow Cocktail's instructions like he's the great guru. Varrick and Zack run their own lab. Me, I gotta do it myself. Varrick gets the chemicals from Cocktail and passes them on to the bikers for delivery. Find Varrick and Zack and you'll find Cocktail.”

“Is there anybody else you know who deals with Cocktail?” asked Jack.

“No, except for the bikers, I think Varrick is the only one who knows who Cocktail really is and the only guy who acts as a go-between for Cocktail and the bikers. Satans Wrath don't want anyone to know that Cocktail is associated with them. The odd time, like maybe once or twice a year if Cocktail can't get all the right chemicals, we sometimes have to change the formula. When that happens, Varrick gets his instructions from Cocktail. Sometimes the new stuff is checked out on a couple of kids to see if they croak or anything. If everything is okay, then Varrick passes on the new recipe to the rest of us.”

“Cocktail is the head chef and the rest of you are like the sous chefs,” said Laura.

“What's a sous chef?”

“Never mind,” replied Jack. “Do you know if any kids have died from the experiments?”

“Varrick once told me that a couple have. I don't know who. Varrick is who you guys should be watchin' if you want to get a handle on everything.”

“Varrick and Zack are dead,” said Jack. “Both died of a drug overdose two months ago.”

“Yeah? Those dumb shits. I wonder what they cranked up?”

“Heroin,” replied Jack.

“Stupid bastards. I thought they were smarter than that. Sell dope, don't use it.”

“We don't believe it was an accident,” said Jack. “Varrick and Zack may have been getting careless. Perhaps drawing police attention,” he added.

“Shit … and here I am talking to you.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen to you as long as you stay on our good side. Screw with us, hold anything back … well, I think you know what will happen.”

Rodine nodded silently.

“We would really like to find Cocktail,” said Jack. “Do that for us and we're square.”

“That may not be easy,” replied Rodine. “It ain't healthy for me to be asking questions about him. As I said, Sy is a very cautious dude.”

“Don't do anything to get yourself killed,” said Jack. “We'll work through this together. What bikers do you get your chemicals from?”

“I place the order through Sy and usually it's different bikers who deliver. Not full-fledged dudes. I forget what they call them.”

“Prospects or strikers,” said Jack.

“Yeah, that's it. As far as I knew, the bikers got the stuff from Varrick, but if he's dead, then I don't know who the go-between would be.”

“Where, when, and how do you get your chemicals?” asked Jack.

“Fuck, the pickups are at weird hours and in different remote areas. That way everyone can check and make sure nobody is being followed.”

“Is Sy expecting this delivery right away?” asked Laura, gesturing to the trunk of the car.

“Yeah, I should have it to him around eight. Not much time. Next one is due Saturday morning.”

“Okay, I want you to give us a two-minute tour inside the house and then make your delivery,” said Jack. “Keep on running the lab like always.”

“For how long do I run the lab?”

“Not long. I hate what it is doing to people,” said Jack, making no attempt to hide his anger.

“But then what happens?”

“We'll bust your lab when you're not there. You could even say you spotted police surveillance. If you keep your prints and stuff off the glassware, you'll win another court case.”

“I don't think I want to chance winning another court case if you plan on busting Sy or any of the bikers. It would be better if I go to jail, too. That way nobody will suspect I ratted out.”

“Not a problem,” replied Jack. “We'll figure something out when the time comes. I'll give you my cell number. Memorize it. Anything I should know, day or night, call me.”

After a quick tour of the lab, Jack and Laura returned to their car.

“Looks like we have someone on the inside,” said Laura. “Connie should be happy with what we know.”

“Except he's not really on the inside or he would know who Cocktail really is,” said Jack. “We're going to have to get to Sy somehow. Doesn't sound like wiretap or surveillance will work.”

“Thinking of doing a UC on Sy?” asked Laura.

“It may be our only option. Get our new friend to introduce us. I'd also like to see where and how far spread this dope is going. Maybe Toxicology could help,” said Jack, picking up his cellphone and calling the RCMP Crime Lab.

“Toxicology … Lucy, it's Jack Taggart. Sorry, I don't have much time. Is there something we could use to spike a shipment of crystal meth? Something that wouldn't be noticed or hurt people, but at the same time show up like a beacon to you if any of it came back for analysis? It would help us figure out where it is being distributed.”

Jack talked for a moment more before smiling and hanging up. He did not realize his decision to chemically tag the drug was about to have a devastating affect on his moral decision to allow the lab to continue operating.

Chapter Fourteen

Connie was mildly pleased when she met with Jack and Laura at their office and learned what their
new friend
had told them.

“Puts us one step closer,” she said.

“Sy Sloan has a record three pages long,” said Laura, as she slid the criminal record across the desk to Connie. “Includes a dozen drug convictions, several assaults, and possession of restricted weapons.”

“But no charges in the last three years,” noted Connie as she scanned the documents.

“According to OCTF he is one of the more prominent leaders in The Brotherhood,” said Jack. “He's reached the point where others take the risk for him.”

“That includes his seventeen-year-old half-brother, Tommy,” said Laura. “According to our friend, Tommy is the main meth dealer at Queen Elizabeth Secondary.”

“There has been a steady flow of Crime Stoppers tips coming in regarding teenage dealers at QE,” said Jack. “Uniform have made several arrests, but Tommy has not been caught yet.”

“From what your source says, I'm not optimistic about Sy being caught through surveillance or on a wiretap,” said Connie. “And if Sy isn't in contact with Cocktail anymore, then what —”

“Sy is still the stepping stone we need to focus on,” interjected Jack. “Looking at his record, he's not overly intelligent. The reason he is a leader is because he is twice the age of most of the punks.”

“Also twice the size,” said Laura. “OCTF says he's monstrously huge. He rules by intimidation, not brains.”

“So what do we do?” asked Connie.

“I think Laura and I could get close to him through a UC,” replied Jack. “We could get our new friend to introduce us.”

“He would do that?” asked Connie.

“We wouldn't exactly give him a choice,” replied Jack.

“Some of the bikers know you,” said Connie. “What if you're recognized?”

“It is only the prospective bikers who deal face to face with The Brotherhood. The current prospects don't know us. We'll change our appearance and names. I'll introduce myself as ‘Jay.' If I bump into someone from my past who still doesn't know my real occupation and calls me Jack, I can say that Jay is short for that.” Jack turned to Laura and said, “How about you? Want me to call you ‘Princess
'
or something?”

“Princess!” Laura gave a pretend giggle before her voice became serious and she said, “Knowing the mentality of those in The Brotherhood, I guess Princess would be appropriate.”

“I'll also contact Drug Section and see if Sammy's team can help us out on occasion,” said Jack.

“Are you planning on doing a UC right away?” asked Connie.

“Actually, after what happened,” cautioned Laura, while looking at Jack, “they might be a little paranoid that our friend is not on the straight and narrow with them. Introducing new faces right away could raise the alarm.”

“What happened?” asked Connie.

“Apparently someone ripped off some drugs and our friend took some heat over it,” said Jack, noting that Laura gave a slight grimace of self-retribution for making the comment in front of Connie.

“Apparently,” repeated Connie, nodding as if she understood something.

“Let's give it a week or two and dig up all the background info we can on Sy,” said Jack, then talk to our friend and work out an idea for an introduction.”

“Well, apparently, I guess that is all we can do,” replied Connie.

* * *

Saturday morning came and Rodine made his next delivery to Sy. This time the shipment had been chemically tagged to make it identifiable in any future police seizures.

Jack and Laura each made it home for dinner Saturday night and decided to take Sunday and Monday off. Jack felt optimistic that things were coming together and bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with dinner.

* * *

It was nine o'clock Sunday morning and sixteen-year-old Julie Goodwin's cereal had gone soggy as she stared down at the bowl. Her mom and dad and twelve-year-old brother, George, had finished their breakfast, but were still at the table making small talk.

Julie knew that in a few minutes they would go off to church and leave her alone. She was too sick to go anywhere. She felt like she was still in a trance. Dark, puffy folds of skin beneath her eyes stood in sharp contrast with the paleness of the rest of her face.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay, dear?” asked her mom.

Julie nodded.

“Yesterday, when you went to … your new friend … Lorraine's house for dinner, what did you eat?” asked her dad.

“Pizza.”

“Bet it was off,” he commented as he stood up from the table.

“We'll check on you when we get home,” said her mom, reassuringly.

“I think she's faking it to get out of going to church,” said George as he walked past and cuffed her lightly on the back of her head.

Normally his action would have provoked an angry retort in their traditional brother-sister feud … but this morning was different. Julie reached out unexpectedly and hugged George and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you, Georgie,” she whispered, before quickly letting go.

“Don't you ever do that again!” he protested.

Both parents looked at each other and smiled. Julie was growing up.

Julie waited until they left before getting a notepad and pen. She stared down at the blank pad and thought about the day before. Her new friend, Lorraine, did not turn out to be a friend. She had gone with Lorraine to the house of someone she did not know, although several students she recognized from school were there.

She had one drink. Lorraine said it was a
virgin
Caesar. She felt embarrassed at Lorraine's comment and wished she had never confided in her. She could not remember if she drank it all.

The next thing she remembered was staring up at a bedroom ceiling. She could not move or speak. It was as if she was having an out-of-body experience. Several young guys were having sex with her. They were laughing. One said he had to go last because he had a STD.

Lorraine walked her home later. She told her not to do anything stupid and to consider it a rite of passage. Lorraine also handed Julie a small baggie of crystal meth and told her to take some, that it would make her feel better. Julie refused and flung it back at her.

Julie squeezed her eyes shut to block out the memory. It didn't work and she stared at the blank piece of paper in front of her. Eventually she picked up the pen and began to write. Her tears smeared some of the ink, but it was still legible.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am really sorry. Please don't hate me. You two have been the best parents anyone could have. I did something really stupid. The whole school will know. I could never face going back. I am really sorry. Please forgive me. I love you all.