The Homeless Killer

by Claude Bouchard

  “The only person suggested so far was Enright,” McCall reminded, “And that didn’t pan out. But it’s a good point, Frank. I’ll push Laforge on this, even if it’s just to get him off my back for a bit.

  “Next, the Homeless Killer as he calls himself. You all had a chance to read his letter?”

  “Pas moi,” replied Joanne, picking up a copy on the table before her.

  “Nah, she was bumming around at the liquor store,” teased Harris.

  “Which reminds me, Tim,” smiled Joanne. “I found that wine you were looking for. The bottle’s on your desk and you owe me twenty bucks.”

  “Thanks,” mumbled Harris. “So, back to the case.”

  “I spoke to the girl who was at the cash on Saturday afternoon,” said Nelson. “The two Rémy Martin purchases were processed by her and she remembers both customers.”

  “Oh, come on,” Frank retorted doubtfully. “They serve hundreds of people on any given day. How can she remember two specific customers?”

  “The first was a regular customer who comes in about once a month,” Joanne explained, “And usually buys a couple of dozen different bottles or more. Apparently, he’s an elderly gentleman, quite well off who entertains a great deal. The cognac was one of twenty-eight different bottles purchased on Saturday and his order, as usual, was placed into the trunk of his car by SAQ staff.”

  “I guess I’d remember that too,” Frank grinned. “What about the other customer?”

  “White male in his fifties,” Joanne read from her notes, “Wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses and black leather driver’s gloves. That’s what the girl remembered specifically, the gloves. He didn’t even take them off to pull the cash out of his wallet. She thought that seemed strange.”

  “It’s also a great way to keep your prints off the bottle.” McCall noted dryly. “The letter mentions driver’s gloves on Perry Island as well.”

  “It also talks about the cognac,” Frank pointed out then looked at Joanne. “Did you ask them for the security tape?”

  “I did but it’s on a forty-eight hour loop,” she shrugged. “Any image of the guy has been taped over. The only thing I got from their systems is that the bottle was purchased at 4:37 Saturday afternoon. So gentlemen, another dead end.”

  “Well, I think the letter makes it clear that this is all the same guy,” said Harris.

  “He certainly knows all the details.” agreed Joanne as she finished reading the letter. “Kind of an angry, obnoxious fellow, isn’t he?”

  “He’s definitely a touch condescending,” Dave smiled. “Good thing he’s there to tell us what’s going on.”

  “But he’s screaming for attention,” Joanne continued. “He wants to be noticed. He wants to show that he’s smarter, superior.”

  “People like that are often quite easy to provoke,” Bakes suggested.

  “He certainly seems to be,” Tim agreed. “Dave referred to the planted evidence as vague at the press conference and two days later we get a ‘Dear Morons’ letter.”

  “So, how do we provoke him?” asked the captain.

  “Continue seeming dumb during press conferences?” Frank said spontaneously. “Uh, let me rephrase that.”

  “I know what you mean,” McCall grinned as the others laughed. “And I think it’s a good idea although his letter leaves no room for misinterpretation. We can however use future press conferences to feed him disinformation. We just have to figure out what.”

  “This is all assuming that there will be more killings and therefore more statements on our part,” said Bakes. “He may decide to step back now that he’s confirmed his existence.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think this is over,” Joanne disagreed. “I see his letter as taunting. This is a game for him. In his mind, he’s smarter than we are.”

  “I’m with Joanne,” stated Dave. “In fact, now that he’s confirmed his existence, as you said, Frank, I think that he’s going to step things up just to show that he’s ahead of us. The problem is, the playing field is pretty goddamned big.”

  “If we could only bait him somehow,” said Harris in frustration.

  “Is there anyway we can use Enright’s campaign?” Frank suggested.

  “What campaign is that?” asked Joanne.

  “When we met Enright on Thursday,” McCall explained, “He suggested helping get the word out to the homeless about being vigilant. He was talking about printing flyers and posters and holding information sessions.”

  “That could be another avenue to get some disinformation out there,” said Joanne. “If Enright does something a bit more grandiose and gets the media involved.”

  “Hmmm…” The captain rubbed his chin in thought. “Let’s see about that.”

  Leafing through the thickening case folder, he found the number he was looking for and reached for the phone.

  “Yes, William Enright, please,” he requested once connected. “Captain Dave McCall. I’m fine, Louise. Thank you. Sure, I’ll hold… Hello, William? Yes, fine. Listen I’m sitting here with a few of my team and would like to put you on speaker. Excellent, hang on a second.”

  He hit the speaker button and replaced the receiver.

  “Hello?” came Enright’s cultured voice over the speaker.

  “We can hear you, William,” Dave said. He introduced the others and went on.

  “I was thinking about your offer for assistance last week and was wondering if you had done anything further?”

  “In fact, I have,” replied Enright proudly. “We’ve come up with a poster and flyer, both carrying the same information. Basically along the lines of being careful, watching over one’s shoulder, remaining in groups as much as possible. They should be printed early next week and we’ll have a team of temps and volunteers plastering the posters and distributing the flyers all over town.”

  “That’s excellent,” McCall stated amid murmurs of approval from the others. “I was thinking of a possible joint effort to get the campaign rolling, something which could be covered by the media.”

  “I’m interested, Captain,” said Enright, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking of setting up somewhere downtown, maybe Phillips Square,” Dave explained. “I’m pretty sure that I can get some kind of budget to cover some costs for a free lunch for the homeless. I could speak as could you to get our message across to them as well as to the public at large.”

  “The Foundation could certainly contribute funds towards this kind of activity,” exclaimed Enright, obviously keen on the idea. “Perhaps I can have flyers printed announcing this event as well,” He chuckled and added, “I do believe I would leave you the task of securing Phillips Square however, Captain. The borough leaders and I aren’t on the best of terms.”

  “I’ll look after that,” McCall reassured him. “Let me speak to my superiors and I’ll get back to you shortly. I’d like to do this as soon as possible, sometime next week. Would that be good for you?”

  “I see no problem with that,” replied Enright, “As long as I can get some flyers printed but that shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “I should be able to get us a little free publicity with the papers,” suggested McCall. “I’ll call you back sometime this afternoon or tomorrow once I have more details.”

  “And I’ll have those flyers designed in the meantime based on what we talked about,” said Enright. “Excellent initiative, Captain. I’m pleased to see the efforts you are making for these poor souls. I’ll be expecting your call.”

  They said their goodbyes and the call ended.

  “A big shindig like this should get our guy’s attention,” Harris commented. “But will it do anything to get him closer to us?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Dave replied thoughtfully. “I’m still formulating a plan in my head. I’ll let you know once I’ve figured it out myself.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Chris was seated on the terrace in Knowlton, putting the finishing touches on
a watercolour of his catamaran when the phone rang.

  “Hello Jonathan,” he answered, having glanced at the call display. “How was Anticosti Island?”

  “Wild and beautiful as I was expecting,” Addley replied, “And not as warm as here. Wonderful hiking temperature.”

  “Good for you,” said Chris. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Well, believe it or not,” Jonathan laughed, “I got a call from none other than your illustrious Captain McCall.”

  “Is that right?” Chris was also surprised. “What about? He couldn’t be calling for help?”

  “As a matter of fact, he was,” Jonathan confirmed. “Not for a little while however, though there is something we must start doing immediately.”

  “What’s that?” asked Chris.

  “We must cease shaving,” announced Addley.

  Chapter 12 – Thursday, July 13, 2006

  “Captain McCall,” Bernard Laforge’s secretary smiled as she entered the reception area. “The mayor will see you now.”

  She led him through the fifth floor headquarters of the Ville-Marie Borough to the open door of a corner office and gestured for him to go on in.

  “Ah, bonjour Capitaine McCall,” Laforge greeted him. “So nice of you to take the time to visit with what must be a hectic schedule.”

  “I’m sure no more hectic that yours,” Dave replied cordially as they shook hands.

  “Perhaps not,” said the mayor, “But I’m certain that the work you do is much more stressful and demanding. Please, sit. Now, what can I do to help you?”

  “I was hoping to talk a bit about Pierre Lévesque,” Dave answered.

  “Such a shame, poor Pierre,” the mayor frowned. “Life and health do hang by a thread. Have you had any progress?”

  “You may have been informed that we’ve most likely found the car?” said McCall.

  “Well, Alain did call me on Tuesday to tell me that a car had been found,” Laforge admitted. “However, there remained issues to be looked into in order to determine if it was in fact the right one.”

  “It seems to be, according to our technical team,” Dave explained. “The damage on the vehicle is entirely consistent with Pierre Lévesque’s injuries. However, this doesn’t put us that much closer to solving this case as it turns out to be a car that was stolen.”

  “I had understood that the owner of the car actually turned it in?” said the puzzled mayor.

  “That is correct,” McCall confirmed. “The owner was off on vacation during which time the car was taken and then returned. The damage was only noticed upon the owner’s return from vacation last Sunday.”

  “I see,” nodded Laforge. “What did you wish from me?”

  “I’m looking for anything that could shed some light. We don’t know Lévesque personally but you do, your staff does. Are there any enemies from near or far that you might be aware of? Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge of some sort?”

  “Nobody comes to mind except for that fool, William Enright,” scoffed the mayor. “But I understand that you have looked into that possibility already. I also saw, Captain, your request for use of Phillips Square next week for a collaborative event with the Enright Foundation?”

  “Yes, Mr. Mayor,” Dave smiled uneasily. “That’s all part of our effort to bring this homeless killer down.”

  “Oh, I understand the purpose and commend you, Captain,” Laforge said reassuringly. “The request, obviously, has been approved since it came from you.”

  “Thank you, sir. Now, back to Pierre Lévesque. We’re trying to look at this from all possible angles. This may likely be some kids who stole a car for a joy ride and that Mr. Lévesque was the unfortunate victim of an accident. However, I’m not inclined to believe that considering the accident happened at five in the morning on a weekday.”

  “I understand, Captain,” Laforge replied. “So where does that leave us?”

  “Hypothetically, who might stand to benefit from Lévesque’s absence or disappearance from office?” McCall enquired.

  “Do you mean benefit professionally, career-wise?” asked the astounded mayor.

  “That was what I meant,” Dave confirmed.

  “Are you suggesting that someone from this office might be responsible?” Laforge questioned angrily.

  “I’m asking, Mr. Mayor, if anyone stands to benefit if Pierre Lévesque is no longer around, anyone from this office or elsewhere.” McCall stated calmly but firmly. “Would you answer my question?”

  “I will answer your question, Captain, but I’m telling you ahead of time that this is ridiculous,” the mayor fumed. “Tomorrow, I will be announcing that Borough Councillor Jacques Bédard has been named Acting Deputy-Mayor until such time that Pierre is able to return to his duties or that it is confirmed that he will be unable to do so.”

  “So Jacques Bédard stands to benefit,” Dave said. “Anyone else? Who replaces Bédard as councillor?”

  “Jacques will continue to officially represent his district in the interim.” Laforge stiffly replied. “Should his appointment as Deputy-Mayor become permanent, a by-election would be held in his district at that time.”

  “So Jacques Bédard would be the only one?” Dave repeated.

  “If you say so, Captain but keep in mind that I am in complete disagreement with your theory,” the mayor retorted. “Why not arrest Christiane Lévesque while you’re at it? She stands to become somewhat richer if Pierre dies.”

  “Christiane Lévesque was home in bed when the accident occurred, Mr. Mayor,” the captain replied. “And nobody has arrested Jacques Bédard, nor accused him of any wrongdoing.”

  “Well, I suggest that you approach this matter very carefully,” Laforge warned. “Jacques is a dedicated, hard-working civil servant and also a brilliant attorney. You had better be certain of what you’re doing, Captain, or this whole thing might just blow up in your face.”

  “How about if I start by simply talking to Mr. Bédard?” McCall calmly suggested. “I’m certain that the man you describe will understand that we are simply doing our job, trying to find the person responsible. If Mr. Bédard is innocent, he has nothing to worry about.”

  “Very well, Captain,” Laforge said with determination as he reached for the phone. “Jacques. Good, you’re there. Could you please come to my office for a moment? Captain McCall is here and there is something we need to clarify immediately.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Yes, Alain, I understand,” Dave replied dryly, holding down his anger. “No, I did not accuse him. Well, I don’t care what he says… I know he’s the borough mayor, sir. I thought that he wanted us to find who tried to kill Lévesque. That’s what I want to do. Yes, Director… Yes, the next time, I’ll bounce it off you first. No, I’m not angry with you, sir. I’m just trying to do my job. Have a nice day, sir.”

  “Goddamned fucking politicians,” he growled as he slammed down the receiver.

  “I’m sure glad I’m not your phone,” Bakes said from the hallway. “Is it safe to come in?”

  “No guarantees,” Dave barked. “Come on in and tell me what I already know.”

  Frank entered and went to his usual perch on the small round conference table in the corner. He had just returned from Le 1200 Ouest de Maisonneuve where Jacques Bédard resided. It had been a short visit since all was arranged ahead of time.

  When Bédard had reached Laforge’s office, the mayor had begun spewing an inaccurate account of his conversation with McCall moments before. In summary, he had told Bédard that the captain was there with accusations that Bédard was the perpetrator in the Lévesque hit-and-run incident. McCall had interjected, attempting to relate the conversation as it had actually taken place but each time he objected, the mayor had pursued his tirade in ever increasing volume.

  Dave had finally lost it and informed Laforge in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t shut up, he would be arrested for interfering with a police investigation. From that point, t
hings had gone smoothly except for the mayor’s scornful glares.

  McCall had quickly explained to Bédard that he was required to investigate all possibilities, one of them being Bédard himself. Although surprised, Bédard had remained amiable towards Dave. When asked if he could confirm his whereabouts at the time of the incident, Bédard had immediately replied that he had been with his trainer at the gym in the building where he lived. He had then suggested to Dave that they resolve the situation the easiest way possible and asked Laforge permission to use the phone. Once connected on speakerphone to the head of security at his place of residence, he had requested that his trainer as well as the lobby and parking guards who had been on duty at the time be made available promptly for questioning by the police. As all three happened to be on the premises, an appointment was set for as soon as McCall could dispatch someone to the downtown luxury building.

  Dave had thanked Bédard for his cooperation, nodded at the stone-faced Laforge and shown himself out.

  Obviously, Laforge had used the time during which Dave was driving back to the Task Force headquarters to telephone Director Alain Savard and express his unhappiness.

  “So, come on,” said Dave wearily. “Give it to me.”

  “The following has been confirmed both verbally to me as well as in signed statements, Frank stated solemnly. “The lobby guard, Richard Dupuis, chatted a few minutes with Bédard shortly before five that morning when Bédard was on his way to the gym. I was given a copy of the lobby security tape which is time coded.”

  “Go on,” McCall muttered, shaking his head.

  “Mario Scarfo, Bédard’s trainer was with Bédard in the gym and at the pool from five to six.” Frank went on. “Scarfo mentioned that a couple of other residents were swimming laps in the pool when they got there at 5:45, should other alibis be required.”