Dead Ends (17 page)

Chapter Twenty

Connie Crane looked down at Amanda Flowers as she lay on the gurney and tried to console her. Amanda's forehead was swathed in bandages to stop the bleeding while they waited for a plastic surgeon to examine her.

“They're supposed to move you to a private room,” fumed Connie, once more sliding open the white drape and peering out. “They don't seem that busy.” She caught sight of the doctor who first examined Amanda and said, “Hey! You forget about us? You said we would be moved to a private room in a couple of minutes. That was forty-five minutes ago.”

“Sorry, something came up. A multi-vehicle pileup. Rooms are on hold for the moment until the situation can be assessed. We're working as fast as we can.”

Connie walked over to the doctor and said, “Sorry, but it's critical that I get a formal statement from the victim as soon as possible. Under the circumstances, I need to talk to her in private.”

“I'm sorry,” replied the doctor. “I appreciate your situation and have kept the spots on either side of you empty. That's the most privacy I can offer at the moment and even that could change soon. I'm told we have three more patients being brought in with multiple injuries, so it is about to get busy. You may want to use what time you have now to talk to her.”

Connie grimaced, but nodded in agreement and returned to Amanda and pulled the curtain shut before taking out her notebook.

“Okay, Amanda, you've told me some of the details, but I need a full statement. You said you were in your kitchen near the back door when three guys in ski masks kicked the door open. They were brandishing knives and said they would kill you if you screamed. Is that right? So —”

Connie shook her head at the sound of running feet and loud voices as gurneys were slid in on both sides of the curtained enclosure. “This isn't going to work,” she muttered, sticking her head out once more. She saw two uniformed RCMP officers, with notebooks in hand, about to enter the enclosures beside her. A young man was laying on a gurney out in the open and it was apparent that all of the private enclosures were occupied.

She recognized one of the officers. “What's going on? An MVA?”

“No, this was no car accident. Some lunatic attacked three kids in a park with either a tire iron or a pipe. They said he was wearing pantyhose over his head.”

“Must've looked like a deranged rabbit.”

“He accused them of getting his daughter hooked on dope and started wailing on them. We have two victims with broken legs above their ankles, the other with a broken arm, and all three with broken collarbones. Actually, the oldest kid had both his collarbones broken. At least, that's what the paramedics say.”

“Broken collarbones,” mused Connie. “Easy to do and it would disable a person's ability to use their arms and hence their hands. Sounds like your perp has been trained in hand-to-hand combat. Could be a soldier. Did you catch him?”

“Not yet. We've got the dog handler out looking.”

“Sounds like they sold dope to the wrong person.”

“It could be mistaken identity. These kids claim it was their first time to the park. They'd gotten their hands on a case of beer and were drinking it and minding their own business when the attacker appeared out of the dark and started beating them. Must have been crazy … although he did have some conscience.”

“Why do you say that?”

“When he was finished, he used one of their cellphones and jabbed in 911 and put the phone in the kid's hand so he could scream for help.”

Connie shook her head.
What the hell is the world coming to?
She looked at her colleague and said, “Well, good luck. Hope you catch him.”

Moments later, Connie saw the startled reaction on Amanda's face when the voices of the new patients could be heard.

“It's them,” she gasped, sitting up and grabbing Connie by the sleeve.

“Who?” asked Connie.

“The guys who attacked me,” she whispered. “I recognize their voices. Out there.” She pointed. “I'm positive.”

Connie looked at Amanda and whispered, “Lay quietly. I'll check it out.”

Connie slipped out from behind the curtain to have a closer look at the three teenagers. She fought the urge to believe they could be that lucky.
Amanda is in shock … could be a false reading to any young men's voices she hears …

Connie looked at the youth who was laying on the gurney out in the open. Her pulse quickened when she spotted blood on the bottom of his running shoe.
More on his shirt … but they were attacked …could be his own
. She bent to examine the blood on his shirt sleeve.

“You a cop, too?” asked the youth, who had seen Connie talking with the uniformed officer.

“Yup.”

“You better catch the guy. Look what he did to me! I'm really hurtin'.”

“The uniformed officers are investigating what happened to you. I'm not here for that.” Connie made direct eye contact with the youth and added, “I'm investigating a woman who was attacked in her home tonight.” She saw his response.
A flicker of fear … or could it be a reaction to a jolt of pain?

“I had a nosebleed earlier,” the youth said, instinctively trying to pull his arm away. He yelped in pain as the effort to move his arm was stopped by a broken collarbone.

Connie heard the crackle of the portable radio as the uniformed officer spoke.
Could it really be them? To get a lucky break like this …
She was only partially aware of a conversation droning over the police radio in the background.
Nosebleed, my ass. Doesn't explain how the blood got under his bicep and he's acting nervous ...
She momentarily forgot the blood on the sleeve as her brain triggered a response to the radio conversation.
Something about a bloody plastic bag with ski masks found buried in the park?

“Yeah,” crackled a voice over the radio. “The police dog found it buried in the park close to where the youths were attacked. Contains ski masks … latex gloves … a bloody knife … the blood is fresh.”

Connie stared at the young man in front of her who glanced at the officer with the portable radio before looking sullenly back at her.

“That fuckin' sucks!” he said, defiantly staring back. “Figures, the only way you pigs could catch anybody is by a fuckin' fluke! Get me my lawyer!”

Chapter Twenty-One

It was midnight when Jack dropped Laura off at the office so she could retrieve a surveillance van. She was going to watch Sy's apartment in the hope that the arrests might spark some activity. In the meantime, Jack was going to pay Gabriel a visit. He knew she would still be up.

“I'll join you as soon as I'm finished,” said Jack.

“That might be soon if Gabriel slams the door in your face,” replied Laura.

* * *

Gabriel's home was still a buzz of activity with the Forensic Identification Unit still hard at work in the basement. Any fear that Jack had about not being welcome was quickly overcome. Gabriel peered through a window after he knocked and flung open the door and hugged him.

“How is Amanda?” she asked.

“Her wounds are not life-threatening. She will, however, be scarred for life … emotionally and physically.”

“I hope she finds comfort in the Lord,” said Gabriel while using her fingers to wipe tears from her eyes. “Thank you for coming back tonight.”

“Thank me for coming? Gabriel, it was me who introduced you to Amanda. This wouldn't have happened here if I hadn't brought her over.”

“I guess not,” replied Gabriel. “Where do you suppose it would have happened, then?”

Jack found himself at a loss for words.

“Please. I'm glad you're here. Come in and I'll make you some tea. I … I need to know if we're in danger.”

“No, you're not in danger,” replied Jack. “Amanda was their target.”

“Because she was helping catch bad men who were selling drugs to the kids in her school?”

“Yes … something like that.”

“Are the same people who attacked her the ones who murdered Father Brown?”

“The youths who attacked Amanda tonight are not the same people, but belong to the same group … or groups of people that we suspect are behind Father Brown's murder.”

“I don't understand how someone could do that to another human being. Amanda was so nice. Still a child, really. If whoever did it doesn't seek forgiveness, they could go to Hell.”

“Tonight, if I had my way,” replied Jack.

Gabriel looked at him sharply and said, “Vengeance is not ours. It's God's.”

“So I've been told,” replied Jack.

“Good. Come in. I'll pour some tea.”

* * *

The next morning a meeting was held with Jack, Laura, Connie, and Sammy from Drug Section. Neither Jack nor Laura had been to bed yet, having spent the night watching Sy's apartment building in a futile attempt to learn more.

Connie was late so Jack used the time to update Sammy on the investigation.

“You're moving into Sy's apartment this coming Friday?” asked Sammy.

“Yes. That's when Laura and I become known as Jay and Princess. Will you still be able to help us out with surveillance or maybe a quick UC if the need arises?” asked Jack.

“Not a problem.”

“I still feel sick about last night,” said Jack. “Only Laura and I knew where Amanda was staying.”

“What about the landlady?” suggested Sammy. “Maybe she blabbed.”

“Gabriel?” replied Jack. “Not a chance. I went to her house and spoke with her last night. She's too upset over what happened to Faith. There is no way she would say anything.”

“What about her other kid? The boy?”

“All Noah knew was that they had a new border. He didn't even know her last name, let alone the circumstances of why she moved to —”

“Sorry I'm late,” announced Connie, striding into the room.

“Hey, Connie,” said Jack. “Where you been?”

“Doing police work,” she replied, pulling out a chair. “And speaking of police work,” she said, looking at Laura, “aren't you a little overdressed?”

“Last night interrupted a date with Elvis,” replied Laura.

“You come up with anything?” asked Jack.

“As a matter of fact, I think I did,” Connie replied as she sat down. “I may have figured out how they found Amanda.”

“How?” said Jack, feeling the guilt contract his stomach and paralyze his lungs.

“I interviewed her this morning. She said she told the secretary at Queen Elizabeth her new address so some mail could be sent to her.”

“I told her not to tell anyone,” lamented Jack.

“I know. She told me, but said the secretary is an older lady, really nice, and would never tell anyone. I met with the secretary at her house. She is a nice lady. Unfortunately, too nice to think like a criminal.”

“Meaning?” asked Jack.

“Her office is open to everyone passing by. She stores the files in a cabinet that she locks at the end of the day. She doesn't lock her office at lunchtime and can't even remember if she put Amanda's address away promptly or left it on her desk until later.”

Jack put his elbow on the table and covered his eyes with his hand. He wished he were alone right now.
I should have told her that someone else would get her mail…

“It's a big school,” continued Connie. Lots of students and lots of teachers coming and going. Everybody busy and nobody paying attention. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know how it is,” replied Jack, looking up. “How is Amanda doing?”

“Okay, all things considered. They are releasing her this morning. Her parents showed up and are taking her back with them to Victoria.”

“Seems soon,” commented Laura.

“I thought so, too, but I guess the hospitals are busy and her injuries are not serious. She will need to make a lot of visits to a plastic surgeon.”

“I suggested she go live with her parents before, but she refused,” said Jack.

“She's not now. She doesn't even want to go back to Gabriel's to pick up her stuff.”

“I don't blame her,” said Laura.

“When we're done here, I'll call the hospital and see if Laura and I can pick up some of it for her,” said Jack. “At least her purse and some clothes.”

“No need,” replied Connie. “I got uniform to do it.” She glanced at her watch and added, “Actually I imagine she's on her way to the ferry as we speak.”

“What about her car?” asked Jack.

“Uniform delivered that to the hospital for her, as well. Her mother is driving it back so everything is looked after for the moment.”

“Anything from the punks who were arrested last night?” asked Sammy.

“No,” replied Connie. “They were demanding lawyers before I could finish reading them their rights.”

“Any evidence to link them to Sy?” asked Jack.

“Nothing,” replied Connie, tapping her pen on the edge of the desk while she pondered what could be done next.

“At least you guys got lucky last night,” said Sammy. “Hell of a good coincidence that the slimeballs ended up in the hospital next to their victim.”

“Yeah, sometimes we get lucky,” responded Connie. Her mind toyed over the word
coincidence
. She looked across the table at Jack. Coincidence was a word she knew all too well from past investigations. There were always coincidences when Jack was involved.

“So what's next?” asked Sammy.

“We're no further ahead on identifying Cocktail than we were months ago,” replied Connie. “I hate to think that your UC is our only option. It might be easier for your informant to wangle a meeting with Cocktail than either of you. Maybe your informant could wear a wire.”

“Out of the question,” replied Jack. “We promised our friend that we would never divulge his or her identity.”

“Witness protection?” suggested Connie.

Jack shook his head and said, “Our informant has lots of family members in the lower mainland. The Brotherhood knows a lot of them. If our source is burned, they'll kill someone else if they can't get their hands on the source. You saw what they did to Amanda. Imagine what they would do to one of their own who turned. Laura and I should be able to gain Sy's trust. We've worked on smarter people than him.”

“Don't forget,” said Sammy. “We've still got a dirty narc someplace.”

“I always presume there are dirty cops someplace,” replied Jack. “It pays to be careful all the time.”

“Even if you gain Sy's trust,” said Connie, while glancing at Laura's bare legs, “how do you plan on getting him to introduce you to Cocktail?”

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Sy met him before. With Varrick out of the way, maybe Sy will be meeting him again.”

“So what will you do?” asked Connie, while watching Jack closely. “Follow Sy and hope he meets Cocktail someplace like a
park
where you could bump into them or something?”

Jack's face remained unchanged and she wondered if her suspicions were unfounded.

“We need Sy's trust first,” said Jack. “Then I'll say we have a buddy, maybe Sammy, who is interested in setting up a lab. Do something to see if we can draw Cocktail out.”

“I could handle that roll,” replied Sammy. “How big is your buget?”

“Connie says we're only authorized for twenty grand.”

“That's not much,” commented Sammy.

“They're not buying dope,” said Connie. “It should be lots to rent an apartment for a couple of months.” She looked at Jack and said, “Isn't it? Things are tight. I had to beg to get that much.”

“We'll see,” replied Jack. “I've already spent half of it.”

“What the hell you talking about? You haven't even moved in yet!”

“Damage deposit, months rent in advance, furniture rental, renting a moving truck, dishes … other stuff,” replied Jack.

“That shouldn't be much more than five grand,” said Connie. She looked at Jack and said, “What's the other stuff?”

“Two new plasma televisions and two cases of Russian vodka,” replied Jack with a grin aimed at Sammy.

“What? You're not serious?”

“Laura and I can never agree on which channel to watch, so we decided we would each get our own set.” Jack cast another smile at Sammy and added, “Also thought we should have some booze around in case we throw a party.”

“Yeah, right,” replied Connie. “You had me going there. I thought you were serious.”

Sammy grinned also. He was a trained undercover operator. He knew that Jack was serious … at least for what was purchased.

“Anyway,” continued Jack, “as long as we remain in the background and make sure we stay out of court, it could work. Speaking of court, I have a trial coming up in Victoria in a couple of weeks. The nutcase I bought coke from. It won't interfere with doing the UC here.”

“One of the punks arrested last night lived in Sy's apartment building,” said Connie. “I expect the three of them will be released soon to await trial.”

“So what,” replied Jack. “He's never seen my face.”

Connie looked at Jack.
I wonder if he's ever heard you …

“What are you thinking?” asked Jack.

“Doesn't matter, I guess,” replied Connie. “The guy has two broken collarbones. He can't even wipe his own ass. I heard the nurses say he was moving back home with his parents so they could look after him.”

“Certainly a couple of lucky breaks last night,” said Jack.

Connie ignored the pun and said, “Getting Sy to introduce you to Cocktail won't be easy.”

“We'll figure out a way,” said Jack. “We're operators. It's what we do. Sy isn't all that bright. He uses the kids, but in reality, Cocktail and the bikers use him. Getting him to trust us will be … like a walk in the park,” he added, giving Connie a shallow smile.

His remark caused her to drop her pen. She stared back at Jack, not bothering to pick it up. His face was without expression but she thought she saw a slight nod.

Coincidence, my ass!