Читать книгу Birds of a Feather - Don Easton - Страница 9

Early Saturday morning found Jack Taggart slowly cruising through an upscale neighbourhood in Vancouver. He had obtained Earl Porter’s address, which was a penthouse condo on Beach Avenue, overlooking the False Creek marina. Besides his Mustang, the Motor Vehicle Branch also listed Porter as owning a silver pickup truck.

The apartment building was monitored with closed-circuit television cameras and had a secure underground parking lot, but Jack simply bided his time and gained entry by quickly walking through the garage door after a car had entered. A quick look for Porter’s vehicles resulted in locating his convertible Mustang, but the pickup truck was gone. From the layer of pockmarked dust on the Mustang, Jack knew Porter hadn’t driven it for over a week since the last rainfall.

On Sunday night, Jack returned to the condo and saw that the lights to the penthouse were not on. He pushed the intercom regardless, ready to pretend it was a mistake, but there was no response.

On Monday morning at ten o’clock, Jack was scheduled to testify at the trial of several Satans Wrath motorcycle gang members who had been charged with conspiracy to traffic in cocaine. Jack, as an undercover operative with the RCMP Intelligence Unit, normally avoided going to court. He was, however, considered an expert when it came to organized crime and Satans Wrath in particular. He had well-documented evidence Satans Wrath was a criminal empire that had successfully clawed and murdered its way to become an international organized-crime syndicate.

The club had chapters in dozens of countries and was involved in almost every criminal venture a person could think of, including murder, extortion, drug trafficking, prostitution, bribery, theft, and loan-sharking. The crown was hoping to prove gangsterism charges under some relatively new sections of the Criminal Code.

It was only nine o’clock and Jack decided he had time before court to make another quick visit to Porter’s condo. His timing was perfect. As he drove up to the condo, he saw Porter’s silver pickup truck entering the garage.

Jack called Connie Crane, who was a veteran homicide investigator with the RCMP and assigned to the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team. Jack had worked with her on past investigations and although Connie had often voiced her objections to Jack’s style of policing, he still highly respected her.

Jack quickly filled Connie in on what Marcie had told him about Lily Rae and what he had discovered about Porter from Drug Section.

“He’s home now, CC. How long will it take you to interview him? Half an hour is all I’m asking.”

“I do homicides, not missing persons.”

“Yeah, like all the missing persons who showed up at the pig farm.”

“That’s a low blow, Jack, even for you. You know how awful I feel about that case.”

“Sorry … I know you’re dedicated … and overworked. We all are.”

“Why me?”

“Next to a polygraph operator, you’re the best person I know at sniffing out a liar.”

“Thanks, I think I smell one now over the phone. Why don’t you do it?” Connie asked.

“If you do it and think he’s done something to her, then I’ll try a UC approach. I don’t want him knowing who I really am.”

“Christ … yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, CC. I owe you one,” said Jack.

“Hey, with you involved, I should be happy I’m not coming over to look at a body. Are you going to wait until I get there?”

“Can’t. I have to be in Supreme Court at ten.”

“What? You really do go to court sometimes?” said Connie sarcastically. “I never knew you to actually arrest someone. I thought when you were done with the bad guys you handed them over to the coroner.”

Jack chuckled. “Don’t give me too much credit. This isn’t for anyone I busted. I have to give expert testimony and tell a judge that Satans Wrath really are a criminal group operating in concert with each other.”

“Everyone knows about Satans Wrath. Tell the judge to read a newspaper.”

“The prosecutor thinks I’ll be done by eleven.”

“You never know how long an interview will take. I’ll call you or leave a message as soon as I’ve talked to him.”

Jack gave his evidence and was off the stand by eleven. He had not heard back from CC yet and as he was the last witness, he decided to sit in the courtroom and listen to the summations by the Crown and the defence lawyers. The courtroom was almost empty, with the exception of a couple of wives and girlfriends. The defence lawyers knew it wouldn’t help their cause to show their solidarity by having it packed full of bikers.

The only club member who did show up to watch was dressed in a suit and tie and looked like the wealthy businessman he was. Damien was the national president of the club and he and Jack knew each other well. Too well, in both their opinions.

The judge was about to render a decision when Connie stuck her head inside the courtroom and motioned for Jack to come out into the hallway.

“You got time to talk?” she asked.

“Yes, we’re about done here. I think the judge has to get back to Disneyland.”

“Where’s your sidekick?”

“I’m flying solo these days. Laura’s on holidays. Gone for three weeks. So how did it go with Porter?”

“I talked to him. To start with, he is paranoid as hell. Something has him scared. I had to hold my badge up to the camera at the front door before he let me in. He even locked the door once I was inside.”

“What about Lily Rae?”

“No sign of her. I asked when he had last seen her and he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. It was more like he wanted to know whatever I knew. Things like, ‘What makes you think I would know where she is?’ or, ‘If something happened to her, I had nothing to do with it.’”

“The bastard.”

“He’s really insolent … kind of got my goat. I tell ya, he’s one guy I’d feel almost justified in smacking around. In the end, he said he dumped her over a week ago and didn’t know where she was.”

“Maybe he did and she got embarrassed or something and ran away. Marcie said she had run away before.”

“Not a chance. That son of a bitch has done something to her.”

“You absolutely certain?” asked Jack.

“One hundred percent. You should have seen his face. A kid in kindergarten could have seen he was lying. I think we should get our ducks in a row. Maybe check his phone records and talk to his neighbours. Find out if anyone heard any fights or anything and then bring him in and really question him. If he doesn’t lawyer up, I bet I could get him to crack within an hour.”

“How did you leave it with him?”

“I remained noncommittal because I wanted to talk to you first. I didn’t want to freak him out any worse than he is and get him to thinking he should call a lawyer. I gave him my card and told him to give me a call if he heard from her or remembered something.”

“I doubt you’ll get much in the way of phone records. If he and his buddy Clive Slater are dealing coke, they’ll be changing cellphones faster than you change your panties. I think you —”

Jack stopped talking as Damien exited the courtroom and walked over to them.

“Good day, Corporal Taggart,” said Damien with a smile. “Hope you have a pleasant afternoon. I know I will,” he added, before walking away.

“What was that all about?” asked Connie.

“He was letting me know the judge didn’t accept my evidence.”

“What? You’re kidding! Everyone knows Satans Wrath’s history of murder and dope dealing. How could a judge even consider the idea that they’re not in it as a criminal venture?”

Jack shrugged and said, “Your guess is probably about as good as mine. Maybe the new law wasn’t worded to the judge’s liking. Or it could be one of a number of other things. The judge could be scared, obtuse, bought off, or has a utopian belief that any potential violation of civil rights outweighs the need to protect society as a whole. Take your pick.”

“You don’t seem all that upset,” noted Connie.

Jack shrugged and said, “I’ve lost all faith in the justice system. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

Connie studied Jack for a moment. Of course you don’t believe in the justice system. Explains why you completely ignore it a lot of the time. You prefer to send people directly to the morgue …

“Now, back to Porter,” continued Jack. “Do your thing first. Get your ducks in a row and bring him in for proper questioning.”

“Sounds good. Hopefully he doesn’t lawyer up.”

Jack’s face remained impassive, hiding what he was thinking. For his sake, he better hope he talks to you. Otherwise I’ll get him to talk my way …