Dead Ends (9 page)

Chapter Ten

On Tuesday morning, Jack listened to the details over the phone as the uniformed Mountie from Port Coquitlam told him about the robbery. As he listened, Jack thought about his own life and his time with Natasha on Friday night.
Life can change in a heartbeat … value every second
.

“Canine Unit tracked him down,” the Mountie said. “The guy does have AIDS, so I guess it's a good thing the dog didn't bite him.”

“AIDS cannot be transferred from an infected person to an animal,” replied Jack.

“Yeah? Good to know. Too bad it isn't that way with people. Personally I cringe every time I have to arrest someone who is combative.”

“Don't you pack a Taser?”

“Are you kidding? With the crap we get for using Tasers these days I'd be better off shooting them. Anyway, the guy wasn't a problem. The asshole was so stoned he was lying in some bushes. Said he couldn't remember if he dreamed he did it, or actually did. He had a small amount of meth in his pocket. CPIC says you are interested in him so —”

“Anyone talk to him to see where he got the meth?” asked Jack. “I'm trying to track down any labs or even rumours of labs at this point.”

“I don't have any info on any labs,” replied the Mountie. “As far as where he got it from, you have to be kidding. Around here kids can buy that shit easier than they can cigarettes. If you want to know who the dealers are, go down to the schools and see who are driving the muscle cars. Sure as hell isn't the teachers.”

“That's a sad state of affairs.”

“Tell me about it. I've got kids of my own. As far as this guy goes, CPIC says he is gang-connected.”

“Bottom end,” replied Jack.

“You have time to work on the bottom end?” said the Mountie. “Must be nice, we don't have the time or manpower to go after the bigger fish, let alone the small fry.”

“I understand,” replied Jack. He briefly thought about Varrick and his previous opinion that he was too small to work on.
A four-year-old girl may die because I didn't make the time
.

When Jack hung up, he sighed as he thought about Ai-li.
Bet she doesn't think the guy who injected her was too small to work on …

Jack picked up the next report from a pile on his desk. It was about some youths were joyriding in a stolen car. They lost control and drove onto a sidewalk where a man was walking with his wife. He pushed his wife out of the way in time, but the car mutilated his legs against the side of a building. He would never walk again. The youths escaped, but a small quantity of meth was found in the car. The investigation was still continuing.

As Jack picked up the next report he glanced at Laura and their eyes met. “I don't know how much more of this I can stand,” she said, gesturing to the reports. “Feel like a coffee?”

“You go ahead,” replied Jack. “To me, it's like taking off a Band-Aid. Do you do it slowly or rip it off all at once? I prefer to get it over with.”

“Hadn't thought of it that way,” replied Laura. She grimaced and continued reading.

Jack's next report was about an incident in the early hours of Sunday morning. The police in Richmond were called by a husband to a domestic dispute. Their sixteen-year-old daughter, due home at midnight, arrived forty minutes late. His wife and daughter argued and the mother punched the girl in the mouth, breaking her tooth. The husband attempted to intervene, but his wife, who had prior convictions for prostitution and was addicted to meth, threatened him with a butcher knife. The man locked himself in the bathroom and used his cellphone to call the police. The mother was arrested and a small quantity of meth was found in her purse, along with a phone number for a known Brotherhood dealer.

Jack threw the report down in disgust and said, “A few years ago there were only a few labs. Today it's everywhere. The Ministry of Health should list meth as an epidemic,” said Jack, facetiously.

“More like the World Health Organization should declare it a pandemic,” replied Laura. “You coming up with anything?”

“Nothing except a sour stomach. Doesn't anybody care about what is going on?” he lamented.

“Someone does,” mused Laura. “I've got a Crime Stoppers report that indicates someone with a reliable history has been giving tips about drugs and dealers at Queen Elizabeth Secondary School in Surrey. Uniform has made several small-time busts.”

“Glad someone is doing their bit,” replied Jack, dismissing the information as his thoughts focused on the next report. A Dave Valentine of the Victoria Police Department had responded to the CPIC entry concerning one of the lab rats that Jack had arrested a year and a half ago. This particular lab rat was in jail, but Jack had listed him as a person of interest in the event he was granted day parole. Victoria PD reported they had heard he was receiving drugs while in jail through a Victoria dealer by the name of Cory McCall.

Jack called Valentine and learned that Cory McCall had a lengthy record, including seven previous drug convictions, three of which were for trafficking. He was currently on probation in Victoria and had only been released from jail the previous week. He was known to be a close friend of the lab rat and they had been in the same jail together.

“Cory isn't a huge dealer,” said Valentine, “but he is a thorn in our side. Out only a week and we're told he's got dealers putting out for him all over town.”

“Meth?” asked Jack.

“No. Coke. Small amounts up to the pound level.”

“His friend in jail used to run a speed lab,” explained Jack. “Labs are what I am after. I'm trying to identify a person by the nickname of Cocktail who is connected with the labs and is likely working for Satans Wrath. Cocktail was involved in a murder of an innocent citizen who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Sorry, I don't know of any labs and have never heard of Cocktail.”

“Any objection if I do a UC on McCall and try to turn him?” asked Jack. “If they were in jail together and are friends, McCall might know who Cocktail is.”

“I'd rather see the asshole busted and put back in jail. He has a dangerous reputation … but seeing as you're talking about a murder, I don't have any objections.”

“Good. Do you know where he hangs out at?”

“His dealers float around town, but usually on weekends McCall goes to a club in the basement of the Strathcona Hotel.”

“My partner and I will be over this weekend.”

“Like I said, he is dangerous. I think he has a screw loose. You'll need a good cover team. We can help you with that.”

“Great. Really appreciate it.”

Jack's next call was to Connie. She was in full agreement with the idea and reiterated that she was anxious to get something going rather than wait and take their chances when Kent Rodine went to court.

“This could be the one time the judge puts Rodine in jail,” said Connie. “Rolling McCall could be our best and maybe only option.”

* * *

At eleven o'clock on Friday night, Jack and Laura descended the steps below street level into the club beneath the Strathcona Hotel. They had seen a photograph of McCall and knew that he was tall, tattooed, and had used his time in jail to lift weights. He was someone who would easily stand out in a crowd.

Once Jack's eyes adjusted to the dimness of the lights, he saw that the majority of the crowd were young people who appeared friendly and were there simply to have a good time. Many were university students while a few were tourists who were checking out the nightlife that Victoria had to offer. There was no sign of McCall.

“Music is a little loud,” commented Laura as they took a seat.

“I agree,” replied Jack. “Some say if the music is too loud it means you're too old.”

“Don't even go there,” replied Laura. “No sign of our friend.”

“It's early yet.”

Over the next hour the crowd continued to swell. Jack and Laura discreetly watched and eventually identified two or three drug dealers who were making frequent trips to the washroom with some customers or simply doing exchanges under the tables with others.

It was one-thirty when they spotted McCall saunter in and sit with two of the dealers. Jack saw them whisper and both dealers handed money to McCall.

“Bingo,” said Jack. “Time to score.”

Jack waited and approached one of the dealers after he left McCall.

“Hey, I moved from Edmonton,” said Jack. “Don't know anyone yet.” Jack touched his nostril and said, “Do you know where a guy could get something a little stronger than booze?”

The dealer stared at him briefly, sizing him up, and asked, “How much ya lookin' for?”

“An eight-ball,” replied Jack.

“Meet me in the can in three minutes,” said the dealer.

The transaction went smoothly and the dealer sold Jack one-eighth of an ounce of cocaine. Five minutes later, Jack returned and sat with Laura.

They watched as the dealer returned and spoke with McCall. Over the next hour, three dealers periodically met with McCall.

Jack waited until he saw McCall walking back from the bathroom before approaching him and blocking his path. “I got something to say to you,” said Jack.

“Yeah?” replied McCall, staring down at Jack.

“The coke your guy sold me better be good or you'll be losing a lot of business.”

McCall's face showed instant rage and he said, “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!”

“Oh, don't give me that,” replied Jack. “I'm in the business, too. I can see what is going on with the guys you got working for you.”

McCall stepped closer to Jack and cocked his fist. The violent response caught Jack slightly off guard and he could feel the spittle spray on his face as McCall spoke. “You shouldn't be fuckin' talkin' to me! I just got out of jail two weeks ago! I don't know you!”

“Yeah?” replied Jack calmly. “Well I don't know you, either. But I want you to know that I'm looking for a steady connection so I can send good quantity back to Alberta. Right now I'm scoring small samples to see who has the best stuff. If your stuff is shit, then you'll be losing a chance to be making big bucks down the road.”

McCall stepped back, panting heavily as he tried to decide whether Jack was a provocation or a business opportunity. Jack recalled the warning he had received earlier about McCall.
He is dangerous … and unpredictable …

“What weight ya talkin' about?” asked McCall.

Jack shrugged and said, “Well, as you said, I don't know you, either. I'd prefer to start off small. Maybe a pound to begin with. If it is good and everything goes well, then I'd have no trouble handling a few keys every month.”

McCall said, “Well the stuff you got tonight has been stepped on, I'll tell you that now. But if you're buying quantity I won't dilute it. How about we meet tomorrow around noon and I'll sell you an ounce as a sample?”

Jack agreed and the following day he waited in an alley behind a Victoria restaurant. Eventually McCall arrived and motioned for Jack to get in his car. Jack complied and was not too concerned as Dave Valentine, along with several other members of the Victoria PD, were hiding in close proximity.

“You got it!” yelled McCall looking wild-eyed as Jack sat in the car and closed the door.

Jack wondered if McCall was planning on robbing him so he nodded toward his own car in the alley and said, “I've got my end together, how about you?”

McCall's demeanour changed abruptly. “Yeah, right here,” he replied softly while reaching in his pants pocket to retrieve a small plastic bag of cocaine.

“A beautiful day,” said Jack, eyeing McCall curiously.

“Yeah, it's nice here,” replied McCall. “You'll like Victoria.”

Jack nodded and said, “Actually I've got the money with me.” He passed McCall a wad of cash and in return received the cocaine.

As McCall was counting the money a seagull flew low over the car and landed on the ground. “What the fuck?” screamed McCall. The muscles in his face twitched and he bounced around on the seat looking out all the car windows.

“Just a bird,” said Jack.

“Oh,” replied McCall as he started counting the money over again.

“So this stuff is good?” said Jack. “Better than what you sold me last night?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn't step on it at all.”

“You do some yourself?” asked Jack, wondering if cocaine was responsible for McCall's mood swings.

“Fuck, no. Don't do dope.”

You act this way without being on drugs? You are nuts …

“You do dope?” asked McCall.

“Nope. That's for chumps. I'd rather make money.”

“That's how I look at it, too.”

Jack returned to his own car and watched as McCall drove slowly down the alley, but before reaching the end he abruptly stepped on the gas. His tires squealed as the car burst wildly out of the alley and onto the street before disappearing amongst a honking of horns.