Читать книгу Samurai Code - Don Easton - Страница 9

4

Sophie stared up at the ceiling of the car as she replayed what had happened. Snake had crawled in on top of her, trying to undo her pants while pinning her arms with his knees as he waved his pistol at her face. I did try to knee him in the nuts … but he was expecting it and turned sideways. Whispers to me to play dead and starts choking me so hard I can’t breathe … before smashing my nose with the butt of the gun. Then screams like I hurt him and pulls the trigger — Doesn’t make sense.

The car door opened and Sophie could hear Snake talking. She closed her eyes and realized he was talking on his cellphone. He thinks I’m dead! The bullet went through my hair … but the blood from my nose got smeared all over my face by his hand when he pushed himself out … he thinks he shot me in the face and that I’m dead.

Sophie lay still, trying to control her breathing. Despite the ringing she had in one ear, the sound of her heartbeat seemed to echo loudly inside the car. She heard Snake’s voice as he tilted the driver’s seat forward.

“Good. Let me know when it’s a done deal,” he said. Sophie heard the call end, but his phone rang immediately.

She felt a trickle of blood running down the back of her throat and into her lungs. She felt the need to cough. Her body demanded air and she willed herself not to breathe. Focus on something different. I can’t! I have to breathe!

“Oh, hi, honey,” she heard Snake say. “You just get home? Sorry I can’t talk. Have to keep the line clear so — no, wait, actually I’m glad you did call.”

Sophie tried to swallow, but let out a small cough instead. Snake quit talking! He heard me! My only chance is to grab him! She sprang to attack. Snake saw it coming and casually let the front seat drop back into place while stepping back. She was trapped. Too late to fumble for the seat release. I’m dead!

Snake looked at her and held up one finger for her to wait a moment as he spoke into the phone. “I’ve got a police woman with a broken nose … No, not Laura … No, I don’t expect you to look at it. We’re way out in Surrey … Uh, huh. Tell her to sit up and pinch the lower part of her nose for ten minutes. Got it. While she’s doing that, I’ll take her to Surrey Memorial. Listen, I should go. She’s upset. Love ya.”

What the hell? Sophie thought.

***

Mad Dog was placed in an interview room where he was introduced to Staff Sergeant Randy Otto and Corporal Connie Crane, both members of the Integrated Homicide Investigative team, or I-HIT, as it was more commonly known.

Mad Dog smiled with satisfaction, quickly waived his right to a lawyer, and gave a detailed statement of his plan to rob an armoured truck. He also said he bought the guns in the United States and smuggled them across the border on foot. When he finished signing the statement, he leaned back from the table and said, “Time for a little bombshell for ya. The stuff I just told you about is chicken feed.”

“Really?” said Connie, raising an eyebrow. “You think with your record that conspiracy to commit armed robbery is chicken feed?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Mad Dog smugly. “That is definitely chicken feed. Somethin’ else happened after I got away from ya yesterday.”

“Oh?” asked Connie. “What would that be?”

“A murder,” replied Mad Dog.

“We’re listening,” said Randy, sounding bored and glancing at his watch.

Mad Dog smiled. “You don’t look impressed.” He snickered and added, “That’s ’cause you don’t know who was wasted yet.” He leaned forward, savouring the moment, while drumming the fingers of both hands on the desk, waiting to hear their pleas for more information. Neither Randy nor Connie responded. The drumming slowed and eventually stopped.

Mad Dog leered silently for a moment, chuckled, and smacked his palms together, emitting a loud clap before using his hands to take an imaginary shot at Randy and Connie. “Bang! Bang! It was one of you!” he blurted out.

Neither Randy nor Connie showed any emotion as Mad Dog anxiously looked back and forth at them both for a response.

“Bang, bang?” said Randy, looking at Connie.

She shrugged in response. “We’re both fine,” said Connie.

“You guys don’t understand!” said Mad Dog. “Not you! Another cop. It just happened. You don’t know about it yet. A woman cop near some warehouses in Surrey. She was murdered. I saw the guy shoot her!”

“What do you think?” asked Connie as she looked at Randy.

“Not interested,” replied Randy.

“What the fuck?” yelled Mad Dog. “What do ya mean you’re not interested? I ain’t bullshittin’ ya. Everything in my statement is true! You let us walk and I’ll give ya a cop killer. Fuck, I could probably even call him and set him up for ya!”

“Appreciate it,” said Connie, “but after careful consideration, we’re not interested in letting you off to catch this other guy.”

Connie and Randy could no longer control their mirth, which did nothing to ease Mad Dog’s enraged response as he snarled and sputtered, demanding that a car be sent to the location where he swore the murder had taken place.

“You have never really been formally introduced to Snake, have you?” Connie finally asked.

“You already know his name!” said Mad Dog, startled that the ace up his sleeve had already been discovered.

“His real name is Corporal Jack Taggart,” said Connie. “He is an undercover RCMP officer.”

Mad Dog’s mouth hung open in disbelief as Randy pointed a finger at him and said, “Bang, bang.”

Mad Dog swallowed in disbelief. “You let an undercover cop kill another cop?”

Randy rolled his eyes and turned to Connie and said, “I want his girlfriend charged under section 153.1 of the Criminal Code.”

“What section is that?” asked Connie.

“Having sex with a person with a mental disability.”

***

Corporal Jack Taggart and Constable Laura Secord took several sophisticated and deadly weapons out of the hands of criminals. The catch-and-release program of the justice system saw several more offenders retagged and held again. At least for the moment.

Neither Jack nor Laura knew that the next night, a person using a cheap pistol would commit a murder that would ultimately carve permanent nightmares into their brains for as long as they each lived.

This murder involved someone not known to the police. A dedicated professional who was known only to a select few of Vancouver’s top organized crime figures. They privately referred to him as The Enabler. His real name was Kang Lee.