Dead Ends (19 page)

“I don't know the guy, but I've encountered similar problems back east.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Start making friends. People you can trust. The more the merrier. The bigger your group, the less chance someone will want to mess with you. It isn't any fun if you're worrying about dodging bullets all the time. The idea is to make money and enjoy life. If you have to share a little of the profits … well who really cares as long as you're still making lots.”

Sy stared at Jack momentarily and said, “I like how you think. Some day I'd like to be top boss of all these fuckers. The thing is, I know of six other guys who want the same thing.”

“Mongo, Munch, Rashard, and three others?”

“Yeah, three others,” replied Sy, looking irked that Jack had paid such close attention.

“Well, glad I'm not involved,” said Jack. “I'd never want to be the boss. Too much pressure. It was one of the reasons I moved out west. People wanted me to step up and be boss. For a while I made all the right moves, but after meeting Princess, I decided I didn't want it. I like feeling safe and comfortable. Speaking of which, it makes me nervous hearing about stuff that's none of my business. How about a beer and watch a movie or something?”

Sy studied Jack briefly.
Good, he doesn't really want to talk about it. Can't be all that interested.… Maybe I didn't fuck up by sayin' too much
. “Yeah, sounds like a perfect plan,” replied Sy. “Come in to my place. I got a two-four of Lucky.”

Over the next three cans of Lucky beer, Sy brooded more and more about what Jack had told him.
Curious background
, he thought, glancing at Jack.
He is one smart fucker. If I can get him to trust me more, I bet he could help me with some of the right moves. Like in
The Godfather
movie … I'd be the top boss and maybe Jay could be my fuckin' consigliere or whatever the fuck it is called
.

Sy looked at Jack and said, “You up to anything Saturday night?”

“That's two days from now. I don't think I am, but I'm not sure, I'd have to check with Princess. Why?”

“My YDUs are havin' a party at a house that a couple of my guys are rentin'. I gotta make an appearance. I tell ya, it would really be doing me a favour.”

“I'm not much for hanging out with kids,” replied Jack.

“Me, either. That's the point. I feel like a loser at my age showing up alone at a party with a bunch of bubble-gummers. With you there, I can make an excuse. Say we're goin' someplace else after.”

“Why not go with Brewski?”

“He's got some business to take care of.”

Jack nodded and said, “Okay, as long as I drive. If you decide to stay, then Princess and I can leave.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that. I don't want to stay long, either. Drop by and throw a few goodies around, have a couple of beer, give a few dumb fucks a pat on the back and then split.”

* * *

Later that night, Jack and Laura had a meeting with Connie, Sammy, and Dan Mylo from the Integrated Task Force. Everyone was pleased with how much progress had been made. With the information Jack provided, Dan and Sammy agreed to apply for wiretap authorizations on all the main people.

“The bug monitors are going to be swamped,” said Sammy.

“At least now we know who some of the guys are who are calling the shots,” said Dan. But you're right, they are going to be busy.”

“Make sure you keep Laura and me out of court,” said Jack.

“I'll check with the prosecution,” said Sammy. “If it goes to court we will try to keep it on a case-by-case basis. Worse comes to worse, we withdraw a charge.”

“Speaking of which,” said Connie, “Don't you have a court case tomorrow?”

“In Victoria,” replied Jack. “Not to worry, I'll be on the seven o'clock ferry in the morning and should catch an afternoon ferry back. I checked with Victoria. None of McCall's current associates know me, so even if they do show up, I should be okay.”

“Good,” replied Connie.

“It's going to be good when they slam the door on McCall,” said Jack. “Victoria PD is concerned. They want me to wear Kevlar and are assigning a four-man bodyguard team to accompany me to court.”

“What do you figure he will get?” asked Connie.

“His record includes three convictions for dealing cocaine and he was only out of jail two weeks when he sold to me. In any other province I would expect him to be sent away for six or seven years, but knowing our justice system here, I'm guessing more like three or four years.”

“Good luck,” said Sammy.

“I've also called Amanda,” said Jack. “I'm going to meet her for a coffee after court. I've got a bunch of her effects that I gathered up from Gabriel's.”

“I've been wondering how she is doing,” said Connie. “Hope she is well enough to give a strong testimony when the time comes.”

“I hope so, too. I'll let you know. Tomorrow is also when Ngoc Bích testifies against the two Vietnamese brothers for the rape, beatings, and imprisonment in one of their brothels. I'd appreciate it if you stayed close to her tomorrow.”

“I know about her trial,” said Connie. “I've been assured that there is extra security already.”

Jack stared at Connie without speaking.

“Okay, I'll be there, too,” said Connie.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief and smile.
The system is working as it should …

* * *

Tomorrow would drastically change Jack's opinion regarding that.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jack walked into the Victoria courtroom and immediately saw a look of disappointment cross McCall's face, followed by anger as he whispered to his lawyer, who glanced at Jack, before turning back to McCall.

Jack quickly surveyed the courtroom. His four bodyguards moved past him and took up strategic positions. Jack smiled to himself. He was pleased for two reasons. The first was that McCall actually showed up. The second was the sight of the young lawyer with McCall.

Jack guessed it was the lawyer's first year of practice. Jack was a seasoned veteran in the courtroom and knew he would come out on top with any comments the young lawyer would throw at him while testifying.
The truth will prevail!

Perhaps the lawyer sensed so, as well. He changed the plea to guilty. Jack listened as the prosecutor read in the circumstances of the drug sale, McCall's lengthy record, his only being out of jail two weeks before the crime and — what Jack thought was a nice touch — the fact that McCall had remained legally unemployed ever since his arrest.
Someone did their homework ...
Jack glanced at Dave Valentine who grinned and gave him the thumbs-up.

Jack listened as the fresh-faced lawyer stood to address the judge. He explained that the reason his client had not been able to obtain employment was because of the severe psychological stress that his client had been subjected to by the RCMP.

Jack glanced at the members of the Victoria PD who were in the courtroom. He could tell by the puzzled look on their faces that they were also confused.

“You see, your Honour,” said the lawyer, “Corporal Taggart, the RCMP officer who purchased the drug from my client —” The lawyer paused to point at Jack who returned the judge's gaze. The lawyer continued, “— did not tell my client that he was an undercover operative prior to the sale. As a result, my client has been left emotionally scarred and has a strong distrust for people, leaving him unable to obtain employment.”

Jack did his best to suppress a chuckle.
Being a new lawyer is one thing, but to say something as ridiculous as this … the judge is going to eat him alive.

The judge reflected on what he had been told. His brow furrowed and he glowered at Jack.

Jack's mouth dropped open in shock.
Something is terribly wrong! The judge is looking at me with utter disdain; like I'm a piece of dog shit stuck to his shoe … he can't be going along with this!

Jack stood in a trance as the judge handed down his sentence. McCall was given four months of house arrest.*

“What does this mean?” a bewildered Jack asked the prosecutor.

“It means McCall will have to be home by nine o'clock at night if he isn't out working or seeking employment.”

“You'll appeal?”

The prosecutor shook his head and said, “It wouldn't do any good.”

Jack stumbled out of the courtroom like a blind man with a lobotomy. He felt like he was in another world. A place without any logic or common sense.

*
[As outrageous as it would appear, the circumstances concerning this court case are factual and were personally experienced by the author. Only the names have been changed. Circumstances of a court case involving “Ngoc Bích,” which follow later in the chapter are also based on fact.]

* * *

Amanda answered the door at her parents' place and gratefully accepted several boxes of her personal effects that Jack had brought with him. Her parents were out shopping and after Jack had unloaded the car, she invited him inside for a coffee.

Amanda was wearing bangs down to her eyebrows. She was much thinner than before and her face was pale. It was obvious she wasn't going outside much.

“How did your court case go today?” she asked.

“He plead guilty,” replied Jack, hoping she would drop the subject. “How are you really doing?”

“Not well. Guess it takes time.” She looked inquisitively at Jack and said, “You once told me that you were in an Intelligence Unit and didn't go to court.”

“This was an exception. I had originally hoped to gain some information to help solve Father Brown's murder. My target had connections to The Brotherhood. I'd hoped to turn him into an informant, but after meeting him, decided he was too dangerous to let off. Anyway, I'm sorry that you're not doing well. Do you want to talk about it?”

“What did he get?”

“Who?”

“The cocaine dealer you were in court for.”

“Nothing, really,” said Jack, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Nothing?”

“Four months' house arrest. If he's not seeking employment he is suppose to be home by nine o'clock at night.”

Amanda stared hard at Jack for a moment and asked, “Why do you bother?”

“I don't know,” replied Jack, hearing his voice crack. “I feel ridiculous. Risked my life for nothing.”

“The Brotherhood were also responsible for having me attacked,” said Amanda. “So you were here working undercover on something that might have helped me.”

“Guess you could put it that way, but at the time, it was to help Homicide find someone they are looking for.”

“You shouldn't say you risked your life for nothing,” said Amanda. “You risked it for me and people like me.”

“Still doesn't change the result,” said Jack.

“You said Homicide
are
looking for someone. Can you tell me anything about it? It sounds like you know who you are looking for?”

“How are you at keeping secrets?”

“You have to ask?” replied Amanda, as small grin flashed across her face. “I'm the one who went behind Mister Bloomquist's back to try and see justice served.”

“Have you ever heard the nickname ‘Cocktail'?”

“No.”

“We're trying to identify him. We've heard a rumour that he has control over some of The Brotherhood. He is the same person who ordered your assault. If anyone finds out that we are looking for him, he may disappear forever. It is also imperative that my real identity be kept secret from The Brotherhood.”

“I won't tell a soul.” She stopped talking and stared off into space as her body started rocking back and forth in her chair.

“Tell me about your therapist,” said Jack, gently. “Do you get along well? Sometimes you need to meet a couple of therapists before you find someone you click with.”

“Maybe. She seems nice, but it's not really helping yet.”

“It's going to take time.”

“I know. My therapist told me. Years. She warned that going to trial could upset things further. Reliving the memories could cause any progress to backslide completely.”

“Sometimes you have to take one day at a time. If you need someone to talk to, I'm only a phone call away. The trial could be a long way off. Time will make you stronger. Another friend of mine was beaten and sexually assaulted. She is testifying today. A couple of years ago she felt like you, but today is looking forward to seeing her attackers held accountable.”

Tears came to Amanda's eyes and she blurted out, “I'm not that strong.” She paused to take a couple of breaths and to regain her composure before continuing. “Even if Cocktail is identified, I've decided I'm not going to testify. Against him, or the three who did this to me,” she added, brushing her bangs to one side to reveal the ugly red scars across her forehead.

“Are you afraid they'll come after you again?” asked Jack.

“No. I'm too angry and depressed to worry about that. I just don't see testifying as doing any good. It would just depress me further. I know you think I'm a terrible person. I should worry about who they'll attack next … but I'm not up to it.”

“I don't think you're a bad person,” replied Jack, “but knowing the judges, if you refuse to testify, there is a good chance they would put you in jail for contempt of court.”

“They would put
me
in jail?” Amanda gave a shrill-sounding laugh.

“They take it as a personal affront if you disobey a subpoena.”

“A personal affront?” Amanda started crying and Jack sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Then I don't want you to find him,” sobbed Amanda. “Same for the three who attacked me … promise you'll find some way to drop their charges if they don't plead guilty.”

Jack briefly closed his own eyes to block the tears. “Charges have already been laid against the three,” he said. “I'm sorry, it is out of my hands, but under the circumstances, I doubt that any defence lawyer would want to chance you taking the stand. They will likely plead guilty on the pretext of feeling bad for what they have done. I imagine that they will be sentenced to a couple of years in juvenile detention.”

“And Cocktail? He won't plead guilty. No way. He may have ordered it, but you know damn well he'll never admit it.”

Jack didn't respond. He didn't know what to say.

“I bet you wouldn't convict him regardless,” added Amanda. “Or if you did, maybe he would end up with four months' house arrest like your cocaine dealer.”

Briefly, Jack wondered about telling Amanda that if Cocktail was convicted of bludgeoning a retired priest to death with a rock, he would likely plead guilty to Amanda's case and serve a concurrent sentence.
What am I thinking? We don't have any evidence that he committed the murder, either. He'll likely walk on both charges.

Jack glanced at Amanda's face. He felt sickened and angry.
How can I go on, pretending to represent justice? I really should quit. Why waste the taxpayers' dollars with this charade?

“You never answered,” noted Amanda. “I'm right, aren't I? Cocktail will never face justice for what he did to me.”

Jack remained silent for a moment, before gripping Amanda by both shoulders and staring intently into her face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don't make promises I can't keep … so believe me when I say I will find Cocktail and that … justice will be served.”

* * *

Jack caught the three o'clock ferry home. It was cold and windy, but he didn't notice as he stood outside on the upper deck and stared into the waves. His BlackBerry rang and the call display told him that it was Ngoc Bích. He quickly answered and stepped inside where it was quieter.

Ngoc Bích was crying, but managed to blubber out that the court case had gone ahead. The judge, in his summation, said that he could not accept the credibility of Ngoc Bích and the other witness over two respected businessmen. After all, said the judge, both witnesses had been prostitutes. The case was dismissed.

Jack tried unsuccessfully to console her. When he eventually hung up, he went down to his car and wept.