Dead Ends (5 page)

Jack thought about Gabriel's comment on his way back to the parking lot. His self-incrimination became replaced by something else. Rage. Rage at a justice system he knew to be inept. By the time he arrived at his car, he lost his ability to hold his emotions in check. It resulted in a couple of bruised knuckles and a dent in his car door.

The trouble is, lady, your religious placebo might work for you … but I don't believe in gods … or showing mercy to people like Varrick.

Chapter Five

It was late afternoon when Jack returned to the office.

“How did it go?” asked Laura.

Jack shrugged and said, “Did what I could. Put Gabriel in touch with a grief counsellor. It'll be a few days before the doctors know anything. How did you make out?”

“The only address on Varrick is the one he gave when he was arrested last time. It's his parents' house in Port Coquitlam. He has the same address on his driver's licence, but doesn't have any vehicles registered to him. He was released without any reporting conditions. Connie has a team sitting on the parents' house, but it doesn't look good.”

“I'm sure it's not. When's his next court appearance?”

“He's had his prelim and is scheduled for trial at the end of April.”

“Three months away.”

“Connie wasn't happy when she heard.”

“We'll find him before then,” replied Jack.

Laura gestured to a mound of reports on her desk and said, “I'm trying. I've collected every scrap of info I can on him and anyone he has been known to associate with.”

“He could still be taking orders through some prospect with Satans Wrath.”

“I know, but nothing is popping up to indicate who. I've been trying to triangulate any common denominators, phone numbers, anything I can find. Keeping track of Satans Wrath and their associates was bad enough before. Now that they are affiliating with all these street gangs it is worse. This is a mess,” she said, gesturing at all the reports. “It didn't sound like he actually lived in Gabriel's basement, but where he is staying is anybody's guess.”

“He probably didn't sleep at Gabriel's because of the danger to his health,” said Jack. “Also it was booby-trapped, so that's another sign that they weren't there all the time.”

“With what we've got it seems hopeless,” lamented Laura.

Jack swept half the mound of paperwork onto his desk and looked at Laura. “We will find him,” he said determinedly.

* * *

It was early evening when Connie stopped in.

“Anything on the surveillance?” asked Laura, glancing up from her desk.

Connie shook her head. “The parents are there, but no sign of Herman yet. He could be in the house, but the only car in the driveway is registered to his parents. I've got a feeling he isn't home. Let's hope he shows up later.”

“I wouldn't count on it,” said Jack. “How did Forensics make out?”

“No prints,” replied Connie, while wheeling an office chair over and sitting down. “Not even a footprint or tire track.” Her face brightened a little and she added, “Did find one black hair stuck to a piece of skull out on the lawn. Father Brown had grey hair, so it's not his.”

“Varrick has red,” said Jack.

“Yeah, I know,” frowned Connie. “That's why I'm here. How are you making out? Did he have a buddy with him last time he was arrested? Someone he might be staying with?”

“He did,” replied Laura. “I checked him first. Confirmed that he's been in jail for the last two months for assault.”

“Another dead end,” muttered Connie. “Tell me you've got something else. What about the prospect who was acting as a go-between last time?”

“Full-fledged member now,” said Jack. “He wouldn't have any hands-on involvement. Times have changed. We have The Brotherhood to contend with, as do Satans Wrath.”

“The Brotherhood? I've heard of that gang. What have they got to do with this?”

“Not
a
gang,” replied Jack. “A conglomeration of gangs. Mostly gangs with mixed ethnic backgrounds. The Brotherhood started off as East Indian, but now encompass lots of other gangs, including Vietnamese, Chinese, Anglo-Saxon … everyone. I've checked with the Gang Unit. Dozens of gangs have sprouted up in the lower mainland. About half a dozen gangs in particular are composed of hardcore seasoned criminals. Most of the gangs have an abundance of juveniles, as well, which means light or no jail sentences.”

“And they call themselves The Brotherhood?” asked Connie.

Jack shook his head and said, “Several of the gangs don't have names. Just groups of criminals, both male and female. Many of the gangs once tried to unite under the banner of The Brotherhood, thinking it would cut down on the turf wars. As the gangs grew, it didn't work out. There's been a split within The Brotherhood. As you can tell by all the shootings, the turf wars are back on. The Gang Unit is overrun with work trying to keep a handle on all the hoods doing the drive-by shootings, let alone work on the bosses who are ordering the hits.”

“Some are more than drive-bys,” said Connie. “The body count is growing at an unbelievable rate. A lot of the cases have ended up in my office, but I wasn't assigned to them because I was busy at the pig farm.” She paused and said, “But you didn't answer my question. Varrick was involved with Satans Wrath. What does The Brotherhood have to do with it?”

“The Brotherhood is dealing lots of dope, including meth. They're too much of a cash-cow for the bikers to ignore. Our latest intel indicates a common denominator between biker meth and the meth being sold by The Brotherhood. Our lab often identifies specific samples of meth as being made by the same chemist or at least the same ingredients and formula. The Brotherhood meth is matching the same meth coming from biker sources. There are also a lot more labs than there used to be. Seems like they're springing up all over the place.”

“So Satans Wrath and The Brothrhood have formed a partnership?” asked Connie. “Maybe using the same chemists to make it?”

“Correct, except I don't know if partnership is quite the right word,” said Jack. “Satans Wrath is one of the top organized crime families in the world. It is only a matter of time before they'll control The Brotherhood completely. The bikers had feelers out with at least the half-dozen or so bosses in The Brotherhood whom they consider worthy. With the dope starting to match up, it is obvious that it is more than feelers.”

“Feelers?” asked Connie.

“Ambassadors, if you will,” replied Jack.

“A bit like a corporate takeover,” said Connie.

“Exactly,” replied Jack. “The Brotherhood is penny ante in comparison to Satans Wrath. Extremely violent and stupid, but penny ante. Lots of young kids who lack conscience and think they're invincible. Also naive and stupid enough to think that using a gun will give them status as a real gangster. In reality, they're only cannon fodder for the real gangsters who are smart enough not to take stupid risks.”

“In some aspects, that makes The Brotherhood more dangerous than Satans Wrath,” added Laura. “Getting stoned and spraying bullets around isn't the bikers' style.”

“If The Brotherhood is comprised of morons, how come Satans Wrath hasn't already taken over or kicked them out?” asked Connie.

“Satans Wrath aren't stupid. They've been learning the ropes for the last sixty years. They don't want to risk openly associating with The Brotherhood during all these shootings. Too much police attention combined with a lack of discipline on the part of The Brotherhood. The bikers will sit back and go with the winning side once the wars are settled.”

“More like control the winning side,” added Laura.

“Definitely,” said Jack. “In the meantime, although the war is bad for business, it gives Satans Wrath a chance to appraise who they'll want working for them in the future. They could easily take out the bosses of The Brotherhood, but as I said, they're a cash cow. The Brotherhood has a lot of kids working for them. Kids dealing dope in schools, arcades, playgrounds, and everywhere else kids hang out. The Brotherhood is a good conduit for the bikers to control in order to make money. Let them take the risk while the bikers rake in the cash. Varrick was under the control of Satans Wrath and likely still is, but he could have been assigned to work with The Brotherhood. There has been a definite amalgamation with how they make meth. We have to presume that they are working together.”

“Christ,” said Connie. “Nothing is ever simple. Why couldn't I just once get a case where the wife comes home and shoots her husband for screwin' around on him … then calls us to say she did it.” She waved her arms in the air and added, “All this shit with gangs, juveniles, The Brotherhood, Satans Wrath —”

“Ah, come on, Connie,” said Jack, with a grin. “Don't tell me you don't like a challenge. I know you better than that.”

“I really want to solve this,” replied Connie, sounding exasperated.

“Us, too,” replied Jack, his voice becoming sombre. “If you saw the look on Gabriel's face after the doctors told her what they were testing for … holding Faith in her lap …” Jack concentrated on taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling in an unsuccessful attempt to block the memory before continuing. “Believe me,” he said determinedly, “we will solve it.”

“Well, you caught Varrick before,” said Connie. “Let's catch him again. Any suggestions?”

“We need to find him and identify who was with him. With the evidence you have so far, you know there is no chance you could convict. If you haul him in for questioning he won't talk and all it would do is let him know we're on to him. Once we find him, maybe you could get a wiretap. We'll work together. Laura and I will liaison with Drug Section and the Biker Unit if the need arises. We still have some more reading to do. With The Brotherhood, it is going to take time to figure out who all the players are.”

“I'll keep a surveillance team on the house,” said Connie. “Maybe he'll show up. Let's see what another day brings.”

It was ten o'clock at night when Jack arrived home and pulled into his parking space in the underground parking lot. He was glad to see that Natasha's parking spot was still empty, but knew she would be home from work soon.

Jack went to their apartment and returned a few minutes later with a toilet plunger. He was successful in that the plunger sucked the ding out of his car door, but as he walked back to the elevator, Natasha arrived.

She got out of the car and kissed him, before gesturing to the toilet plunger. “I always thought your expression of
you don't catch sewer rats with church mice
was what you said about your informants. I had no idea that you really were after sewer rats.”

Jack sighed and said, “I used it take a dent out of the car door.”

“Accident?” asked Natasha.

“I punched it,” admitted Jack.

“Did it help?”

“No. Made me feel stupid.”

“Bad day at the office, or did the door take a swing at you first?”

“Hasn't been a good day,” replied Jack.

“Involving that family you brought to BCCH?”

“Yes.”

“So you're after the sewer rats who lived in her basement.”

Jack nodded.

“Sounds like tonight we should have a glass of wine and unwind a little.”

“Make it a bottle.”

Natasha eyed Jack's hand and said, “Break any bones?”

“No, I haven't caught them yet.”

“I mean your hand, not —” She stopped when she saw Jack smile at her. “Do I need to worry?” she asked, convinced that Jack's smile was not genuine.

“I think I cracked a knuckle, but as far as the bad guys go, you don't need to worry.”

Natasha stared at him silently.

“Hey, I'm smiling, aren't I?” added Jack.

“Yeah, and your upper lip looks a bit like a Frankfurter. It always does when you're trying to pull one over on me.”

Jack's chuckle was genuine. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you, too.” She eyed Jack's hand again. Punching a car door was not his style. She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and said, “Let's go find that corkscrew … then we'll talk … and don't try to bullshit me or I'll use that plunger on you.”

“I could think of a nicer way to get a hickey,” replied Jack.

“Hickey? Wasn't what I had in mind. You would need a proctologist when I was done.”

* * *

It was seven o'clock Friday morning when Jack arrived back at Gabriel's house with cleaning supplies. The blood was sprayed high enough up the back of the house that he needed to borrow a ladder from a neighbour. As he scrubbed the streams of dried blood off the aluminium siding he reflected on the violent, uncontrollable rage of the person who did the murder.
This is one animal I will find …

* * *

Later that afternoon, Connie returned to Jack and Laura's office. Any optimism she had disappeared when they both gave her the thumbs-down signal.

“How about you?” asked Jack.

“Not a thing on the Varrick house. The parents went grocery shopping and to the liquor store and that was it.”

“How about the crime scene?” asked Laura.