“Okay. I asked the doc to call me as soon as they can talk. So, how’s the girl doin’?”
“Pretty good. Her mom’s with her now and one of her friends is there too. The mother said she might be released soon.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah. I asked her if she’d be willin’ to testify in court once we get our hands on Fletcher. She said she would. I told them to talk to someone from the Crown’s office. I’ll be callin’ to arrange it.”
“Kid’s got some moxie. She know what she’s settin’ herself up for?”
“I explained it to her, and she still wants to do it,” I said as we got into the car. I decided to drive this time.
“I’m droppin’ you off at the station, okay? I’m headin’ back to Dartmouth.”
“Yeah, okay. I still got some work to finish up on the raids. You comin’ back to the station when you’re done?”
“No, I think I’ll head home. You an’ Agnes got anythin’ on for tonight?”
He shook his head. “Jus’ a quiet night in.”
“Nice ain’t it?” I said, smiling.
“Yep.”
I dropped Pete off at the ferry terminal; the station was only three blocks away up George Street. I managed to get on the second boat to cross over and arrived at Phillpott and Son’s office in quick order.
I stood in front of the secretary’s desk with my ID in my hand.
“Remember me? Detective Robichaud, Halifax Police,” I said when she looked up at me.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“I would like see Mr. Phillpott. Is he in?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
I waved my ID at her and said, “Yes.”
She reached for the phone on the desk.
“Excuse me, sir, but that detective is here to see again,” she said into the phone. A moment later, she looked at me and said, “Go right in,” hanging up the phone.
“You’re back again? I still can’t tell you anything,” Phillpott said from behind his desk when I entered the office. “So, what do you want now?”
I reached inside my jacket and retrieved the letter Phil Mulroney sent me approving my security clearance and passed it across to him. He took it and read it carefully before passing it back, looking at me.
“I’m here to get the information I asked for the last time. The names of the companies forgin’ that valve that failed.”
“I see. Well, it seems you have clearance to see that information.” He slid the letter across the desktop towards me. I reached out and picked it up and put it back in my pocket. He picked up the phone and, after a moment, told the person on the other end to bring in the file with the names of the suppliers.
“What exactly are you hoping to find, if you don’t mind my asking?” he asked.
“I’m jus’ checkin’ all the people who had anythin’ to do with the makin’ of the valve.”
“Hm. It seems a waste of time to me. I mean, sometimes a defective part does get through the inspection process.”
I just stood there looking at him. After several minutes, the door opened, and the secretary entered with a file. She brought it over and set it on the desk in front of Phillpott.
“Thank you,” he said. “That will be all.”
He leaned forward and opened the file as the woman turned and left, closing the door behind her.
“Let me see,” he said scanning the sheets of paper. “I hope you know what you are doing, detective. These are small companies with small staffs. They also depend on these government contracts for their survival.”
“If they’ve done nothing wrong, they don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not on a witch hunt here,” I said, picking up the file when he slid it to me. “I jus’ want to make sure that this kind of thing doesn’t happen again.”
Phillpott sat back, giving me a suspicious look. He definitely didn’t like the idea of me talking with any of these suppliers, which made me wonder what he was worried about.
I thanked him for his cooperation and told him I would see that the file was returned as soon as I was finished with it then I turned away and headed back to my car.
Minutes after Robichaud left, Phillpott picked up the phone and dialled.
“Kempt’s Machine,” a man’s voice said.
“It’s me,” Phillpott said to the man on the other end. His name was Henry Kempt.
“Whazzup?”
“We got a problem. I just had a visit from the police. They’re looking into that business at the shipyard...”
“Ya talkin’ ‘bout that accident on that ship?’
“Yes. How did...?”
“It was in the paper. So, what’s that gotta do with me?”
“It was one of your valves. It blew up and injured a man and killed another.”
“It happens,” Kempt said.
“Perhaps so, but they are investigating the matter anyway. It appears they’ve been told there was a fault in the metal.”
“You think they suspect our, ah, arrangement?”
“No, but if he digs too far, he’s likely to stumble onto the something. I think it best if you take steps to see to it he doesn’t find anything if he comes calling, understand?”
“Yeah, I got ya. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it at my end. You jus’ make sure he don’t find out anythin’ at yours.”
“I’ll deal with mine, you just make sure he doesn’t find anything.”
He hung up the phone and sat thinking for a moment before picking it up again and dialed another number.
“Dartmouth Marine Supplies,” a woman said.
* * *
When I got back to the station there was a note for me to see Morrison. I headed for the stairs.
“Come,” Morrison said after I rapped on the glass panel and opened the door to his office.
“You wanted to see me?” I asked, closing the door.
“Yes,” he said, waving me to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. I sat down still holding the Phillpott and Sons file.
“I got a call from the Deputy Mayor twenty minutes ago. Seems he was on the phone with one of the ministers down on Hollis Street wanting to know why we’re investigating Dartmouth Marine Supplies.”
“That was quick,” I said. “I jus’ got back from there.”
“Fill me in,” he said in his direct tone of voice.
I went over everything I had so far relating to the defective valve leading me to suspect Dartmouth Marine Supplies of criminal activities and profiteering. I also told him of my suspicion that they were working this business in conjunction with one or more suppliers.
“I see,” he said when I finished. “But so far, all you have are suspicions?”
“Based on sound circumstantial evidence, yes sir,” I said.
“Hm. I agree with your thinking, especially since the call from the Deputy Mayor. If the evidence holds up and, it looks like it might, then nail the bastards.”
“So, how do you want me to proceed?” I asked.
“Carefully, that’s for sure,” he said, looking at me. “But definitely continue. You’re onto something here and if you get more solid evidence then bring them in. This is definitely starting to smell like a conspiracy to defraud the government at the very least.”
“Right. I’m gonna look into these suppliers next,” I said, holding up the file. “That’s where I think the break will come from.”
“Okay. I’ll leave it with you for now. However, if and when, you do get something bring it to me first, got it? You’re going to need some weight behind you when you move on those two.”
“Yes sir. Got it.” I stood up; the meeting was over.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, I found Pete sitting at his desk. I usually arrive before him, so I checked my watch to make sure it was on time.
“You’re in early?” I asked as I headed for the hotplate and a cup of tea. “Everythin’ Oka
y?”
“Huh?” he answered, looking up. “Yeah, sure. Everythin’s fine. I jus’ wanted to get a jump on somethin’ that’s all.”
“So, what you got?” I went and stood beside his desk.
“I talked to those men checked into the hospital, ya know, the ones with alcohol poisonin’, like you told me. They’re in pretty bad shape ‘cordin’ to the doctor workin’ on them. One might never see again. Anyway, they were happy to rat out where they got the booze. Looks like it’s not one of the bootleggers we know about or took in. It’s some woman makin’ the shit up in her kitchen. Accordin’ to the hospital’s laboratory, this shit was made with wood grain alcohol an’ other chemicals. Apparently, she also used Bay Rum to add flavour to the brew.”
“Jesus,” I said. “You get her address?”
“Yeah. I figured I’d go down there this mornin’ an’ bring her in.”
“Good. Take a uniform with you in case she’s got some muscle with her.”
“Okay. What about you? How ya doing with that Dartmouth business?”
“I got one more lead to look into before I act.”
“So, your hunch was right?”
I nodded, “Yeah. Looks like it.”
“Good.”
“Where are we on the Fletcher case?” I asked. I’d been so busy in Dartmouth I’d not kept up with finding Fletcher.
“Looks like he’s gone ta ground. I figure he’s heard we’re lookin’ for ‘im, but I’m guessin’ he’s still in the city.”
“Okay. I think when you come back you should take over findin’ him. I’ll help out once I’m done with this other business. The boss wants it put to rest as soon as possible.”
Pete gave me a quizzical look.
“Been gettin’ calls from the Deputy Mayor’s office.”
“Goddamn politics.”
“Yeah,” I said, “When are you takin’ off?”
Pete checked the clock on the wall. “I figure at nine, or thereabouts.”
“Okay. Good luck,” I said, walking to my desk.
At eight-thirty I headed out for my visit to Kempt’s Machine in Dartmouth.
“I’m here to see the owner,” I said, showing my ID to a man standing behind a work table.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “He’s in da shop. Wan’ me to get ‘im?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said. “What’s his name?”
“Mark Kempt.”
A few minutes later the man came back followed another man. He was tall with a stocky build. He looked like someone accustomed to heavy work. He wore an old tired looking fedora and a pair of soiled overalls over a thick woolen shirt and a black jacket.
“You wanna see me?” he asked when he stopped in front of me.
“That’s right,” I said, showing him my ID. “I’m Detective Robichaud with the Halifax Police. You got someplace we can talk in private?”
“Humph,” he grunted, then walked to a door off to the right. “In here.”
Once inside, he said, “What’s this all about?”
“I take it ya heard ‘bout the accident in the shipyard the other day; a coupla men injured and one killed?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Seem to recall readin’ somethin’ in the papers.”
“Well, it looks like the metal used to forge the valve that ruptured came from your shop.”
“You don’t say. How do you know it came from here? There’s other...”
“We traced it through a serial number.”
“Okay,” he said. “What of it? We forge a lot a products here. Sometimes a bad one might slip through.”
“Accordin’ to the experts who did an analysis of the metal, the valve was forged with inferior metals. How do explain that?” I asked, keeping a steady eye on him for any reaction.
“You accussin’ me of makin’ inferior products?” he snapped.
“Jus’ askin’. Well?”
Kempt tried to stare me down but it wasn’t working. He looked like he was trying to come to a decision, maybe weighing his chances as I was alone and on his patch. I decided to brace him even harder.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said, opening my jacket to reveal my gun. His eyes shifted to the gun and I knew he realized that this could become really bad.
“Easy,” he said, raising his hands in front of him. “No need for that, now.”
“Smart decision. Now answer my question.”
“Look. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, okay? I get the orders an’ then make the parts, then send them on.”
“Yeah? An’ what about the metals you’re usin’?”
“I get them from another supplier.”
“Whaddya mean, another supplier?”
“Like said. I order the metal in from a mill.”
“Okay, I get that, but those metals are forged here, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So that means somewhere along the way you’re doin’ somethin’ resultin’ in the finished part leavin’ here in an inferior condition.”
Kempt was starting to look visibly unsettled at this point.
“You don’t have any proof of that,” he said, his voice betraying his nervousness.
“Maybe not,” I said. “What say I call an’ get some experts to come over here an’ have a look ‘round, maybe take a few samples. Whaddya think?”
“You can’t jus’ come in here without a warrant or sumthin’.”
I could see he knew the jig was up and he was buggered. I decided the best thing I could do right now was to secure him and take him back to the city where I could finish the interrogation.
“Turn around,” I said. “Mark Kempt, I’m arrestin’ you on suspicion of sabotage. You have the right to remain silent and anythin’ you say now can and will be used in a court of law. You understand?” I said, pulling out my set of handcuffs and stepping toward him.
“Jesus,” he said, panic in his voice. “Wait...wait, let’s talk...make a deal.”
“We’ll definitely talk when I get ya back to the station.” I grabbed his left arm and pulled it behind him, snapping the cuff on his wrist, then his right.
“Let’s go. Walk,” I said.
I led him out through the outer office then outside and placed him in the back seat of my car. Several men left the workshop and followed us outside. They stood around the doorway quietly talking among themselves. I kept an eye on them, not knowing where they stood regarding Kempt. I quickly got in behind the wheel and reached for the microphone.
“Car two, callin’, over,” I said into it.
A moment later a voice answered. “Car two, go ahead. Over.”
“This is Robichaud. I’m in Dartmouth at a business called Kempt Machine. It’s located in Woodside jus’ before they reach Imperoyal. I need you to send a car with at least two uniforms. Over.”
“Right away. Over.”
“Thanks. I’ll stay on site ‘til they get here. Tell them to use sirens. Over and out.”
While I waited, I went back inside and talked with several of the workmen. A few said they thought something fishy was going on but kept quiet, not wanting to lose their jobs. The foreman, Bill Quigley, helped me go through the business’ files. I found a number of records from Dartmouth Marine Supplies for a wide variety of parts, including the defective valve. I pulled these and put them in a small box and took it to the car, where Kempt sweated in the back seat.
The squad car arrived thirty minutes later. I instructed the two officers to come inside, then called Quigley over, telling him to shut the foundry down and send the men home. When he asked how long the shop would be down, all I could tell him was indefinitely. When he went into the shop and passed on the news to the men inside, I could see they weren’t too happy at the news and I was glad to have the two uniformed men with me.
It was an hour later when Quigley finally got everything shut down and all the men left. I had Quigley give the keys to the shop and office to me before he left. I gave them to one of the two officers
.
“You two stay on here an’ make sure no one tries to get inside. I’ll make arrangements for a relief to be sent over. If you have any trouble radio in. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” one of the men said.
I arrived back at the station forty-five minutes later. I booked Kempt into a cell and instructed the duty officer to make sure the two officers over in Dartmouth were relieved. I also told him to maintain a presence there until further notice.
When I reached the cells, I saw a woman and two bruisers in the adjacent cell. I left and went back to the squad room. Pete was sitting at his desk holding a wet towel over his right cheek and eye.
“What the hell happened to you?” I asked.
“Didn’t go down so easy,” he said.
“Ya don’t say. Jesus, man, you okay?”
“Yeah. The bitch caught me with a fuckin’ pot. Lucky for me it was empty. There were a coupla others cookin’ on the stove. She was brewin’ a new batch at the time.”
“An’ the uniform? He okay?”
“Yeah. He was cuffin’ the two men that were there. They came along peacefully.”
“But not her, eh?”
“That’s one mean vicious she-devil” he said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his cheek. “I practically had ta cold-cock ‘er so I could cuff ‘er.”
“How much of her poison did ya get?”
“‘Bout five gallons. Like I said, she was brewin’ some when I went in. I kept a few bottles she had already filled for evidence an’ dumped the rest. It’s in the evidence room.”
“Good. That’s good work, Pete,” I said. “By the way, what’s her name?”
“Thanks,” he said, opening his notebook. “Gladys Silvester. Forty-eight. Married, old man is overseas: army. Though I hate to think of bein’ married to that. One of the two men we arrested is a brother to the husband, the other is her cousin,” he finished, closing the notebook. “How’d you make out over in Dartmouth?”
“I arrested the man who owns a machine shop an’ small foundry; bookin’ him on a charge of sabotage for now. Got to talk with the Crown Attorney’s office to see if they make it stick.”
“He come quiet?”
The Evil Men Do Page 13
