Dead Ends (15 page)

It was nine-thirty the following morning and Tommy Sloan was late for school when he gunned the engine of his purple Trans Am and drove through a stop sign. His action did not cause an accident, but it did come to the attention of Constable Dale and Constable Button who were in a nearby patrol car.

“See that?” said Button. “I stopped that kid once before. The little asshole has a real foul mouth. Hit the lights, I'm going to write him up.”

Seconds later Tommy turned on his signal and pulled over to the curb.

“Yes, Officer, I know I didn't stop,” he said. “I'm late for school,” he said, as an explanation.

“Too bad, but you're getting a ticket,” said Button.

“Yes, sir. I guess I deserve it,” replied Tommy.

“Another thing,” said Button. “Shut the car off and hand me the keys.”

“I'm not going to try and outrun you,” smiled Tommy, as he did as instructed.

“Good. One more thing. Step out of the car and place your hands on the roof.”

“You fuckin' pigs got no right to search me!” yelled Tommy.

Twenty minutes later, Constable Button placed Tommy into an interview room where he was allowed to call a lawyer.

“Tell your lawyer that the quarter-pound of meth we seized out of your shorts was individually grammed up,” said Button as he closed the door.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Chugger, a prospect from Satans Wrath, picked up Sy at his apartment. After an hour of counter-surveillance tactics, including switching cars, Chugger parked behind a car wash called Wet Willy's. It was closed for the night.

“The rear door is unlocked,” said Chugger. “Go on inside. I'm supposed to wait here.”

Sy did as instructed. He recognized Cocktail who was seated in the customer waiting area with another man. He did not know who the man was, but the gold insignia ring on his hand said he was a full-fledged member of Satans Wrath.

“You think it is a teacher from QE who is talking to the police?” asked Cocktail, dismissing any small talk.

“According to my brother it is. He said the cops tried to make it look like nobody tipped them, but too many guys have been busted lately. Three or four teachers are the only common denominator.”

“Which ones?” asked Cocktail.

Sy gave Cocktail all the surnames.

The biker looked at Sy and said, “Sit here, while we make a call from the office.”

Sy waited as the biker and Cocktail entered an office and closed the door behind them.

Once inside the office the biker looked at Cocktail and asked, “Any ideas?”

“It's Amanda Flowers. She could pass for Playboy material and struts around with a real attitude. She isn't much older than the students. There isn't a straight boy in that school who wouldn't want to fuck her. They talk to her like she's their friend and not a teacher. She needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Not a fatal lesson,” said the biker. “We don't need the heat.”

“Not kill her,” said Cocktail. “She lives alone, house-sitting and looking after someone's cat. The owners are away. I have an idea that will leave a lasting impression upon her. Something to make a lasting impression on any others who decide to stick their noses where they don't belong.”

The biker listened to Cocktail's plan and said, “Sounds good. Tell Sy to carry it out.”

Sy stood up when Cocktail and the biker returned.

“We know who it is,” said the biker. “It's the bitch by the name of Flowers.”

“How do you know?” asked Sy.

“How we know is none of your business.”

“Should we do something?” asked Sy.

“Yes,” replied Cocktail. “Miss Flowers needs to be taught a lesson.”

Sy listened carefully to Cocktail's plan and saw the biker give his nod of approval.

“I'll arrange it for tomorrow night,” said Sy, getting up to leave. He glanced at Cocktail before heading toward the door as Cocktail's plan rolled around in his brain.

Sy was no stranger to violence, nor did he shun it, but the evil grin on Cocktail's face convinced him that this was one person he would never cross.

His plan, it's gonna be bloody … bloody and fuckin' cruel. Every time she looks in a mirror …

Chapter Seventeen

It was ten o'clock the following night when three youths crept across the lawn behind Amanda Flowers's home. Being the third week of May, the sun had set an hour earlier and the yard was mostly in darkness. A few lights were on in the house. The back porch light was also on, but a large shrub blocked most of the light to the yard.

Two of the youths were fifteen years old and the third was sixteen. All of the boys had lengthy juvenile records for assault, drug trafficking, and auto theft.

The youths were both giddy and nervous about the instructions they had received from Sy. A brutal and multiple rape was to be followed by carving the word RAT on her forehead.

The youths ducked low in the yard when they heard the back door open. It was followed by a soft feminine voice that yelled, “Kitty, kitty, kitty! Come on, Whiskers! I'm leaving the door open. If you're not in by the time I scrub my teeth, you can spend the night outside!”

The youths heard the footsteps fade back into the house and a moment later, an upstairs bathroom light came on.

“This is gonna be fuckin' easy,” said the oldest, pulling a pistol from his belt. The pistol was only a pellet gun, but it looked real and he knew Flowers would be too scared to tell the difference.

He glanced at his two friends who nodded and smiled back as they each pulled out hunting knives.

The one youth brandished his knife in the air, simulating carving the letters
R-A-T
. “Easy and fun,” he said.

“Too bad Tommy couldn't be here,” said the other.

“Sy is smart,” whispered the oldest. “He'll make sure Tommy has a good alibi for tonight. Come on … time to put on our masks.”

The youths placed their weapons on the lawn in front of them, dug in their pockets, and each pulled out a ski mask.

Instantly, three powerful beams of blinding light illuminated the backyard. The mouths of all three boys simultaneously hung open.

“Police! Don't move!” screamed a command as black-clad men appeared out of the darkness pointing Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns at them. The favoured automatic weapon of the Emergency Response Team.

The youths gasped simultaneously, their eyes wide with fright as the members of the ERT circled them. Seconds later, the boys were all handcuffed and laying face-down on the grass.

Jack and Laura heard the scenario play out from where they sat with an ERT commander in the back of an ERT van parked a block away.

At noon the day before, Amanda had called Jack to thank him for having Tommy arrested. Jack said that he knew nothing about it. After hanging up, he called Rodine and told him to have a beer with Sy and find out what he was thinking.

Later, Rodine had called Jack back and said, “Sy met with Cocktail and some biker. They figure a teacher by the name of Flowers has been ratting and got Tommy busted. I'm surprised Sy told me, but I think he was so freaked out by Cocktail's plan that he had to tell someone.”

Jack winced when he heard the news, but wasn't surprised. He found out so they could also figure it out. He asked Rodine what Cocktail's plan was and listened as Rodine told him about the intended rape and mutilation with a knife.

At first Jack had felt nauseated because he knew that to identify Flowers as the intended victim would compromise Rodine. Then he came up with a plan to protect Flowers and Rodine.

Jack told his bosses that Tommy was an important figure in The Brotherhood because his brother was a leader. He said it was rumoured that The Brotherhood blamed a teacher for Tommy's arrest, but that he did not know which teacher.

Jack suggested the possibility that a drive-by shooting of a teacher's house could occur, or perhaps The Brotherhood would break into a teacher's home and commit a violent assault. Jack added further fuel to the fire by telling Morris Bloomquist, who panicked and demanded protection for himself. He also provided a list of several other teachers' names, including Amanda Flowers.

ERT was assigned to protect the teachers and Jack assured everyone that it would only be for a couple of days because if The Brotherhood did retaliate, they would do it when the anger was still high.

“These guys aren't smart enough to wait and plan things out over time,” said Jack. “They're comprised of impulsive hotheads. If the rumour is right, they won't wait.”

Jack knew that the information he provided would be immediately given to defence lawyers upon arrests. The police, who were providing protection to several teachers and without having any knowledge of the intended rape and assault with the knife, would make the arrests appear innocuous enough to protect Rodine from discovery.

Now, Jack sat in the back of the van and closed his eyes while massaging his temples with his hand as he thought about the arrest.

“What is it?” asked Laura, sounding concerned.

“They screwed up,” replied Jack.

“You got that right,” replied Laura. “All of them busted.”

“Not the punks,” said Jack, looking up. “The arrest was screwed up.”

“What do you mean, we screwed up?” said the ERT commander.

“Damn it,” replied Jack. “The bust was premature. Defence will say the kids were there to slash her tires or something. I told you to wait until they were inside. You had what, one policewoman pretending to be Amanda and three other officers in there? You could easily have handled three punks.”

“That was before one of them pulled a gun out of his pants,” replied the commander. “I'm not going to risk the lives of my people over some assholes who, even if they had gone inside, would likely end up with, at best, a few months in Juvenile Detention.”

Jack reflected on the information he had received from Rodine. He knew the gun was only a pellet pistol, but it was a detail he could not share in advance with the other officers. He sighed and looked at the commander and said, “You're right. I'm sorry. You made the right call.”

“Damn right I did.” The commander was silent for a moment before adding, “Guess you did, too. Your rumour was right.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jack received a call from Connie asking where he was.

“In Amanda Flowers's house,” he replied. “Where are you?”

“I'm at the Surrey office. The three punks have already lawyered up. Basil Westmount is defending one and other lawyers from his firm are representing the other two. None of the little assholes said a word. Turns out the pistol was only a pellet gun.”

“Too bad,” replied Jack. “It is going to be tough for some prosecutor to try and prove they intended to harm her. They were busted in her backyard, not in her house.”

“Yeah, but they were in a teacher's yard at night with weapons and ski masks,” said Connie. “That ought to count for something.”

“Yeah … a reasonable person would think that,” said Jack, sarcastically. “I have to go. Laura's upstairs helping Amanda pack. I've convinced her to move to a new place.”

“Relatives?” asked Connie.

“No, her parents live in Victoria. I want her to quit and move away, but she is being stubborn.”

“Hope she finds a safe place. The Brotherhood may try again.”

“I know. I told her that these guys might not give up. It would make them look bad, like they were incapable of handling business.”

“I hope she isn't planning on continuing teaching! Doesn't she realize how dangerous these guys are?”

“I told her. I said with the items they were caught with … masks and knives … that in my opinion they were going to sexually assault her and cut her up.”

“Do you really think that or were you trying to scare her?”

“I really think that … and it did scare her. She agreed to take some time off. I'm hoping she will at least take the rest of the semester off and start next year in a different school.”

“Will she?”

“She's too stressed at the moment to decide. She's already worrying about how long court will take. She wants the whole matter over with so she can get back to teaching.”

“I'll talk to the prosecutor. Maybe see if we can expedite matters.”

* * *

It was midnight when Jack and Laura arrived with Amanda and introduced her to Gabriel Parsons, who took them around to the back of the house and into the basement suite. The bed had already been made up for her and there were towels and linens available.

“You've got your own kitchen,” said Gabriel, “but I know you haven't had time to shop. In the morning come and knock on my door. I'll make you breakfast.”

“That's not necessary, but thank you,” replied Amanda.

“I don't mind. You would be doing me a favour. I could use the company. I also put a quart of milk and some almond-chocolate-chip cookies in the fridge for you. I baked them this afternoon so they're fresh.”

Amanda smiled in spite of how she felt.

When Gabriel left, Amanda turned and said, “What a sweet lady. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Gabriel has been through a lot,” said Jack.

“So you told me on the way over.”

“I appreciate that it hasn't been easy for you, either. I'm hoping you will be good for each other.”

“I hope her daughter is going to be okay,” said Amanda. “The stress must be terrible.”

“Maybe you could help out by tutoring Noah. Gabriel said he was still suffering the loss of his father when Father Brown was murdered. He was a father figure to Noah. Gabriel said Noah has been fighting at school and that his grades have dropped.”

“I'd be glad to help tutor him. What grade is he in?”

“Grade eight. He attends Cedar Woods Secondary. He's never been to QE, but to be on the safe side, I want you to use your mother's maiden name while you are here.”

“If you think it's necessary.”

“I do,” replied Jack. “I can't reiterate strongly enough. Don't tell anyone where you are staying. Give us a month or so to see what is happening. The punks who planned to attack you tonight are with The Brotherhood.

“I know about The Brotherhood,” replied Amanda. “I've had to deal with their BS on a daily basis.”

“Then you know they are dangerous.”

“Anyone listening to the news about all the shootings knows that.”

“They're not all kids. Adults are in charge. Dangerous adults. I really wish you would move farther away.”

“Your parents live in Victoria,” added Laura. “That's a beautiful city.”

“At twenty-five I don't want to be moving back in with my parents,” replied Amanda. “Let's see what happens in court.”