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chapter twenty-five

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Jack listened to the news on Friday afternoon. “Vancouver City Police recorded the city’s largest ever seizure of methamphetamine around noon today. Fifty kilos of the drug were seized at the train station. Police attribute the seizure to an anonymous tip received by the police in Montreal. A juvenile from Montreal was arrested, along with a local man known in the underworld by the unusual name of Halibut. His real name…”

Jack’s telephone rang a minute later.

“You hear the news?” asked Danny.

“Sounds like the narcs will be happy with Eddy Trimble. Bet I could get them to buy me a beer.”

“No kidding! You were right about Bart and Rex. They’re trustworthy.”

“They even threw in the bit about the anonymous call in Montreal. They’re not only trustworthy, but they’re doing their best to protect me.”

“Or Eddy Trimble.”

“Whatever. It’s good news. This is just the beginning. I told you there would be no stopping us now. How’s Susan?”

“Her head hurts a little, no thanks to you, but she’s fine. We had a good talk last night. Thanks. I really owe you.”

“Talk? That’s not what I told her to do to you!”

Danny paused, then said, “Right. She fucked some sense into me, too.”

Jack chuckled and Danny continued, “Susan said you have a plan to get Wigmore off my back?”

“I haven’t worked out all the finer details. We’ll have to wait until Monday when he returns, but trust me, by then I’ll have it together. Need a woman to help us, though.”

“Susan’s primed. She wants to help.”

“Good. See you tonight at the office.”

“This time I’m driving!” yelled Danny. He was too late. Jack had hung up.

Danny checked his watch. The search of Wizard’s penthouse apartment hadn’t taken long. All they had found was a .357 magnum revolver stuck in a holster fixed to the back of a bedside table. None of the phone numbers they located had prefixes for outside the city.

“That was quick,” whispered Danny. “Took us less than fifteen minutes. Do you still plan on doing Rolly’s? His place is an old house; it’s going to take a lot longer.”

“Yes, I plan on doing Rolly’s! Just give me a minute.”

Jack took the .357 from its holster and stuck the barrel of the gun deep down into the dirt of a houseplant. He then tamped the dirt in the barrel with his pen, wiped off the outside of the gun, and replaced it in the holster.

“Maybe if we get lucky it’ll blow up in his face,” said Jack bitterly, ushering Danny out the door.

Danny’s silence as Jack drove to Rolly’s house betrayed his troubled thoughts.

“You’re quiet,” said Jack.

“Thinking about what you did with the piece back there.”

“Think it’s wrong? If he shoots at you it won’t seem wrong.”

“If we do find out Wizard and Rolly killed your sister’s kids, what do you plan to do?”

Jack parked a block down the street from Rolly’s house and they walked the remaining distance. It was in an older district that was heavily treed. A few street lights lit up the street, but the neighbourhood appeared to be asleep.

Only the top half of Rolly’s two-storey house was visible in the moonlight. It was completely surrounded by large cedar trees and was set back from the road. An eight-foot chain-link fence encircled the property at the edge of the treeline. Three strands of barbed wire stood out at an angle from the top of the fence, adding more height. A gate across the driveway was padlocked shut and bathed by floodlights.

Danny looked at the chain-link fence and then at Jack. “Well?”

“The gate’s out in the open.” Jack looked up at the fence and added, “My back and arm are still a little tender, but I can make it. It’ll be safer than picking the padlock. These trees should give us enough protection from the street.”

Minutes later, Danny was at the top of the fence. He flung his jacket over the strands of barbed wire before making his way down the other side. Jack eased himself over the top and climbed down to join him.

A low growl caused both men to leap for the fence. Danny reached the top as Jack yelled in pain. The German shepherd had its teeth clenched on a torn strip of his pants and he was slowly dragging the dog up the fence.

“He’s got me! Do something!” said Jack, gritting his teeth as the snarling dog shook its head in a frenzy while dangling from the torn cloth.

“I bet this is the dog the pervert used with Marcie! What do you think?”

“Christ! I don’t know! Do something!”

“Shake him off!”

“It’s all I can do to hang on! If I fall there won’t be enough of me left to make a stir-fry!”

“Want me to shoot ’im?”

“No. The noise will wake up the neighbours! If Rolly sees his dog dead…”

Danny watched as Jack tried to shake his leg. The cloth tore a little more, but then held fast at the seam at the bottom of his ankle. Danny eased back down the fence and kicked the dog squarely on top of the head. The dog didn’t let go, but Jack’s fingers slipped a notch.

“Don’t! Watch … Oh, great! Lights!”

Across the street a neighbour’s upstairs light had come on. Jack tossed his gun, keys, and one ankle boot over the fence as another interior light came on. Then he undid his belt. Seconds later, he clambered down the fence as the front porch light was turned on.

The door opened, and a man in a housecoat stepped out onto the porch and walked over to the railing and stood looking toward the fence.

Jack and Danny lay on the ground while Danny peered at the man from behind a tree.

On the other side of the fence, the dog took out its frustration by shredding Jack’s pants and grinding them into the dirt.

“What’s he doing? Did he see us?”

“I don’t think so. He’s just standing there,” whispered Danny, glancing back at his half-naked partner. “What should we do if he comes over?”

“Pretend we’re gay.”

Danny’s silent prayer was answered when the man went back inside.

“He’s gone. Now what?” asked Danny.

“Wait a few minutes to make sure he’s not still watching, then get the car and take me home. We’ve still got tomorrow night to come up with something.”

They watched as the dog quit growling, picked up Jack’s pants, and trotted back toward the house.

“Just like he’s bringing home a trophy,” said Danny.

Jack’s reply was inaudible as he limped over to pick up his gun, keys, and boot.

Jack glanced back inside the compound. The dog had returned, without the pants, and was standing over his other ankle boot, staring back, as if daring him to try to retrieve it.

A short time later, Danny eased the car over to the curb in front of Jack’s apartment, and Jack hobbled inside. With the interior light on, Danny saw the blood seeping through Jack’s fingers as he held his leg.

“You’re hurt!”

“He took a chunk out of my calf, but I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks,” said Jack, easing his hand off.

“You might need stitches.”

“Damn it!”

“Natasha?” asked Danny.

Jack groaned. “I guess I’d better. I’m not going to Emergency like this. She’s home now.”

“Great!” replied Danny enthusiastically.

“What do you mean, great?”

“I want to see how you explain losing your pants.”

Danny chuckled. “Almost makes up for dumping me in the park last night.”

“Slow down and make sure we don’t get stopped for speeding,” grumbled Jack.

Twenty-four hours later, Jack and Danny sat in a brown four-door sedan. It belonged to a Highway Patrol unit. There were no markings on the car, but with a thick Plexiglas shield between the front and back seat, most people could easily identify it as a police car. They slowly drove up the alley behind Rolly’s house.

They got out of the car and walked up to the fence. Jack picked up a handful of gravel from the lane and tossed it over the fence. The dog appeared instantly, pressing its jaws up against the fence to reveal a snarling, salivating mouth full of teeth.

“Good,” said Jack. “Keep him here for about ten minutes while I pick the lock, then bring him around front. Don’t stumble!”

“You don’t have to tell me,” responded Danny.

Ten minutes later, Danny made his way around to the gate while the dog, emitting a deep, low growl, stalked him on the other side of the fence.

Jack had positioned the car alongside the gate. Both back doors of the car were open and Jack waved to him from the front seat.

“God, I’m fucking crazy to be doing this!” Danny took off his jacket and swatted it against the fence. The dog snarled louder, leaping at the fence. Danny then raced over and crawled partway into the back of the police car.

“Okay, go for it!”

From the front seat, Jack leaned out the partially open window and shoved the gate slightly open. Danny, looking out the open car door across from him, shook his jacket once more as the dog lunged into the car after him. He immediately backed out, slamming the door. Jack slammed the door from the other side. Seconds later they drove off as the dog, realizing it was trapped, went into a frenzy and started shredding the upholstery with its teeth.

They parked the car a short distance from the house. As both men got out of the car, chunks of upholstery and stuffing rained down within.

“It looks like it’s snowing in there!” said Danny. “HP is going to be pissed!”

“Makes up for the ticket they gave me last year. Hope he doesn’t eat his way into the front before we get back.”

They crept up the steps leading into the back of Rolly’s house. A spiked dog collar tied to a heavy chain lay on the porch. The chain led down the steps and was wrapped around a tree in front of a large doghouse. Two empty aluminum dog dishes lay upside down in the dirt. Both had holes chewed through the rims. The remnants of Jack’s pants were hanging out of the doghouse.

“This is a good omen,” whispered Danny. “We’ve already found your pants.”

“Wonderful. Next week is Halloween. I’ll go dressed as dog food.”

Danny heard the door open and saw Jack step inside.

“Christ, you’re fast! You’re going to have to teach me someday,” said Danny in amazement.

“Thanks. But it wasn’t locked.”

Danny glanced at the dog collar. “I can see why.”

They started their search in the three bedrooms upstairs. The furnishings in two of the bedrooms consisted only of dirty mattresses lying on the floor. There was a dresser in the main bedroom, and Jack searched through the drawers. Danny spotted a shotgun leaning against the wall and carefully picked it up.

“Loaded?” asked Jack.

Danny nodded, putting the shotgun down.

It was an hour and a half later when they finished their search. They found a few telephone numbers in a kitchen drawer, but again, none were for outside the city.

“Well, at least we tried,” said Jack. “Let’s get out of here before the sun comes up. We’ve still got to return the dog.”

“Yeah. Hope he leaves on his own so I don’t have to coax ’im out,” replied Danny, feeling apprehensive.

Outside the house, Danny watched as Jack retrieved his pants from the doghouse, then got down on his knees and shone his flashlight inside.

“Do you see your shoe?”

“What’s left of it.” Jack reached inside and pulled out a badly mangled ankle boot.

Danny was about to go, but Jack stayed kneeling, staring at the doghouse.

“You coming?” whispered Danny.

“This floor is thick.”

Danny shrugged. “Just insulated to keep the poor little puppy off the ground.”

“They’d do that for the mutt but not bother to leave it any food or water while they go away for a couple of days?”

Jack moved his flashlight beam across the floor of the doghouse. It was covered with short, dark green outdoor carpeting, which was glued down, except along one wall where it had been cut slightly too large to fit the floor.

He pulled back the carpet to reveal a plywood floor. A small grubby knothole was visible in the plywood. He stuck his finger in the knothole and pulled. The floor of the doghouse lifted like a page in a book.

A compartment underneath held a brown leather case. He carefully lifted it out and undid the zipper, shining his light inside.

“Well?” asked Danny breathlessly.

“Take a look,” said Jack, holding the case open.

Danny looked in and saw some handguns, stacks of money held together by elastic bands, and a large brown envelope.

“Look at all the cash,” said Jack. “These are thousand-dollar bills!”

“Yet he still has dirty mattresses on the floor in two of the bedrooms?”

“Guess you can’t make a silk purse out of a pig’s ear. Come on, let’s go back inside and take a better look. There’s a downstairs washroom without any windows. We can close the door and turn on the light.”

Danny noticed the sky was beginning to lighten but didn’t say anything as he followed Jack into the house.

Jack carefully pulled the contents of the leather case out onto the floor. There were three .22-calibre handguns.

“Do you think these have been used?”

Jack shook his head as he picked up the brown envelope. “I doubt it. Our friend said they throw them away after each hit.”

“Pass me those bundles. I’ll start counting. Let’s see how much he’s got.”

Jack didn’t respond as he stared into the brown envelope. His face became mottled.

“Jack? … Jack? What is it?”

Jack silently passed Danny the envelope.

It was stuffed with newspaper clippings. For a moment, Danny didn’t understand, until he saw the bold lettering of one caption: GRISLY MURDER OF TWO CHILDREN — Discovered by mother

Danny pulled the newspaper clippings from the envelope. Most of the clippings were about the children’s murder. One clipping was different. It was about another murder that had taken place three days ago. The article said: Bobby Singh, a 29-year-old man who police believe was involved in the drug trade, was found shot to death in his home Wednesday night by relatives who…”

Jack pointed his finger beside the man’s name. Someone had written “2” in ink.

“Look at Ben Junior’s name,” said Jack.

Danny flipped back the pages and looked. Beside Ben Junior’s name, someone had written “1” in ink.

“Rolly murdered Ben Junior,” said Jack. “He’s even keeping score! Bobby Singh was his second victim. He didn’t put a number beside Maggie’s name. Probably because Wizard killed her.”

“We can’t be sure,” replied Danny.

“Can’t we? Then you give me another explanation for it!” yelled Jack.

“How can you be sure it was Wizard?”

“He’s the one who vouched for Rolly’s tattoo! And he already has the Dirty Dog tattoo. That’s what Maggie was drawing when she was killed.”

“It still doesn’t confirm he killed her.”

“You’re saying you don’t think he did it?” asked Jack incredulously.

“I didn’t say that, but it would never stand up in court.”

“Court! What the hell does court have to do with anything? None of this will stand up! We can’t use this! We don’t even have grounds for a search warrant! Who’s talking about court?”

“So what do we do then?” asked Danny, his voice cracking. “Do you set yourself up as judge, jury, and executioner? What if it wasn’t Wizard? Okay, I’ll admit Rolly had a hand in it, but what if it wasn’t Wizard? It’s just … could you live with there being any doubt as to who did kill Maggie? Wondering if a third person was there, maybe another dealer, and Wizard only saw what happened.”

Jack didn’t respond for a moment. He sat on the floor, breathing like he had run a marathon. Eventually his breathing returned to normal. “Okay,” he said. “You want more proof? I’ll get it for you!”

The sound of birds chirping outside told Danny that now was not the time to ask how.

Jack picked up one of the handguns and walked out of the bathroom and over to a plant in the living room. He looked back at Danny. “Are you going to help?”

Danny looked down at the remaining two guns. This is wrong. Everything I’m doing is wrong.

“Forget it, I’ll do it myself,” said Jack, plunging the barrel of the gun into the dirt.

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