“There is something else,” I said.
“We intended to tell both you and Detective Fernice,” said Lucas.
“We’re not quite sure how you’ll feel about it.”
Alex resisted an overwhelming desire to roll his eyes.
“Morgan had a strong memory flash around her abduction. She remembered a loud and rhythmic banging and under that, a constant humming sound.”
“It’s the sound of the docks when they are up and running, so I thought, I must’ve been held near the docks. I also remembered the smell of spar varnish, which is used in the refinishing of wood boats. My dad was a canoe builder.”
Alex nodded for her to continue. He already had an idea where this might be going. Fernice had updated him after she checked out the shipbuilders’ yard.
“I phoned Detective Fernice and told her about the memory of spar varnish. While I was on the phone with her, we located a small shipyard that does repairs to older wooden boats—Seabreeze Marine Boat Repair, a Division of Port of Vancouver Shipbuilders.
“Yes, I have that information. She visited the shipyard the same day and found nothing.”
“We made a visit as well.”
“Two visits actually,” said Lucas.
“Two visits.” said Alex. These two were in a league unto themselves.
“The first visit was just to have a look around. I wanted to see if anything about the place was familiar, if it triggered any memories for me. Detective Fernice wouldn’t let me go with her.”
“We took every precaution, Alex,” said Lucas. “We wore disguises and we rented a car.” Amelia and George were shocked.
“Weren’t you scared?” asked Amelia. We both nodded yes.
“You wore disguises?” said George.
“Morgan is very good at all things theatrical,” said Kate, with undisguised pride. “She’s in film.”
“Really Alex, they were excellent disguises! No one would have recognized them,” said Bart.
“Absolutely not,” said Kate.
Bart pulled up the selfie and showed it to Alex.
It certainly wasn’t the picture he was expecting. They were incognito, which was very reassuring to Alex and he relented, a little.
“Okay, what was it about the first visit that made you decide to return?”
“The place was familiar, Alex. I just knew I’d been there before. There was a locked office, just off the reception area. I really wanted to have a look inside that room.”
“We went back the same evening,” said Lucas.
“How did you get into the building?”
“I used wire cutters to get through the fence surrounding the property.”
“We did have to break a small window to enter the building.”
“You didn’t set off an alarm?” asked Alex.
“I didn’t see any sign of an arming box on our first visit,” I said.
“Right,” said Alex, clearly interested in this bit of information.
“The locked room was just off the reception area. We figured there wouldn’t be a key close by. What would be the point? Especially if there was something that they were trying to hide.”
“Morgan kicked in the door,” Lucas added proudly. “She has a black belt in karate.”
“What did you find?” Alex asked.
In answer, Bart reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. “They found some pretty disturbing evidence,” he said, handing over two CDs. “I put a third copy in my safe deposit box. Everything has been deleted from my hard drive.”
“What’s on these CDs?”
“Pictures I took of images of children in books and calendars, all meant for resale.” I didn’t describe the photos, especially with Amelia in the room.
“Where exactly did you find this material?”
“In one of the locked cupboards in the room,” Lucas said.
“And you broke into the cupboard?”
“We didn’t have to. I used our house key. The cupboard wasn’t very secure.”
“Not at all, I’d say,” said Alex. “What made you think to try your house key?”
“My dad had a locked cupboard in his workshop. When the tumbler wore down, he used his house key to open it. Don’t worry Alex. We were careful to leave everything exactly as we found it and relocked the cupboard when we were done.”
“That’s good, but the evidence of a break in remains—the fence, the broken window, a kicked in door.” He was grim. “Detective Fernice doesn’t know about your visit.”
“Not yet.”
“Like I said, we intended to tell both of you today,” said Lucas.
“That same night would have been far better,” said Alex. “Is there anything else?”
“One of the pictures on the disc is the license plate of a silver Suburban that arrived at the shipyard, just after we left.”
Alex looked at Michael and tapped the disc. “Have you seen that photo, Michael?”
“Yes Alex. It looks to be the same make and model and colour as the Suburban I saw behind the club. But I didn’t get a clear picture of the license plate the night I saw Carey, so I can’t confirm it’s the same car.”
“Where did you take the picture, Morgan?”
“Just outside the gate of the shipyard.”
“I waited in the car while Morgan jumped out and took it.”
“Where were you two when the Suburban arrived?”
“We were already out of the building and at the wire fence bordering the property where we initially entered the yard.”
“Do you think the driver saw you leave?”
“No. We were on the opposite side of the yard, in complete shadow. The building was between us and the gate.”
“Good.” They barely missed getting caught, thought Alex.
“Okay. Morgan, Lucas, and you as well, Michael. You all need to back off. Immediately! I need your promise that you will.” He looked at us expectantly: waiting. We looked at each other. I nodded yes first, and the fellas followed my lead.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“There is one more thing, Alex,” said Michael. “I don’t know how important it is. Someone—we’re not absolutely certain who—has started a campaign up in Terrace to discredit both Carey and her mother, Rosaline.”
“How did you find out?”
“Corporal Cumberland, he’s at the Terrace detachment. He came to the house and told Rosie. He thought she should know. We’re all pretty upset about it. Rosie’s such a good mom and a very respected member of the community in Terrace, and Carey’s a wonderful kid. Cumberland said some of the police have given the rumours a lot of credence.”
“Any idea who started the rumours?”
“Corporal Cumberland thinks it might be a lawyer named Paul Revier. He’s crown counsel for the area up there. Cumberland saw him having lunch with Sergeant Willis and it was soon after that the rumours started to fly.”
Alex noted his name and checked the spelling.
“Rosie believes that Revier is at least partly responsible for a known paedophile not being charged when he should have been and then dragging his feet on the case when the guy finally was charged. The paedophile committed suicide, the weekend before he was going to be sentenced.”
“Go on,” said Alex.
“Circumstances around the case were very suspicious. That’s what some people said at the time—for instance, witnesses for the defence suddenly withdrawing their testimony; one died under circumstances that were never properly explained.”
Michael looked over at Amelia. He knew Amelia was having a hard time with all of this. It was comforting to him that George was in her corner.
“Speaking of tarnished reputations, someone is trying to ruin ours,” said Lucas. “We joke about it to keep our spirits up, don’t we Morgan.”
“We try to. I worked the streets, then managed to get myself off the streets, then went back to sc
hool and turned my life around. But I’m still kind of loose in the morals department and sleep around a lot on Lucas.”
“And this makes me very jealous because I’m a hot-blooded Latin male who has no control over his temper.”
Alex nodded. “Two smear campaigns: one in Terrace and one at SFU.”
“Someone is trying to derail this case,” said Lucas.
“They sure are,” said Bart.
Alex left shortly after. But not before he got further assurances, especially from Morgan, Lucas and Michael, to back off. He had a feeling his words were falling on deaf ears. In the end, he did get them to promise not to do anything without telling him first. They agreed to that. He texted Fernice he was on his way.
CHAPTER 31
Alex headed to a small diner in Port Kells, once a thriving port town but now part of the sprawling city of Surrey, on the south side of the Fraser River. Jeri lived in Langley, a community bordering Surrey, so it was a quick drive for her to meet him there. It was also far away from VPD turf. He got tied up in weekend traffic heading east over the Port Mann Bridge and by the time he arrived, she was finishing up a sandwich and salad. She spotted his fedora coming through the door and raised a hand in greeting. She stood when he reached her table and they shook hands.
“Jeri Fernice.”
“Alex Desocarras.”
“As you can see, I didn’t waste any time. Sit, we’ll get you something to eat,” and she turned to signal the waitress behind the counter.”
“I just finished breakfast. I’ll have water for now, maybe a coffee.” Alex went to the counter and placed his order, then returned to the table. Jeri pushed her empty plate aside and reached for her coffee. The waitress brought his order, leaving his bill and Jeri’s. She was going off shift.
“I’m all ears,” she said.
“First, you need to know that I’ve kept my people in the dark about the involvement of MacLeish, the officer in PG I spoke to you about. He’s second-in-command up there, in charge of general policing operations. He has full knowledge of all RCMP provincial initiatives—including anything to do with missing children.”
“I noticed that,” said Jeri.
“At least for now, we have to assume he’s not alone and that other officers may be involved. That’s why I didn’t want to risk a digital trail, or a paper trail.”
“I agree. If we’re wrong, so much the better. MacLeish could be nothing more than a valuable point person in a civilian operation.”
“MacLeish paid a visit to Boyce’s mother the day that O’Meara came up to view the abandoned pickup,” said Alex.
“He found out about the tweet and put two and two together. Someone in 100 Mile House could have tipped him off. Or maybe someone at SFU.”
“I just had breakfast with O’Meara and Arenas. Amelia Boudreau and a friend George Evans, the uncle, Michael Bolton, Kate Brennan, and her husband Bart; they were all there. I wanted to warn O’Meara and Arenas, in person.”
Jeri nodded. “Good.”
“They had new information for us. I have copies of everything for you.” Alex quietly handed over a large envelope. Jeri pulled out the lists and a CD.
“How did they get these lists? What’s on the CD?”
“An acquaintance of O’Meara’s hacked the club’s server. The CD’s another story. You’re not going to like it.”
“What say we adjourn this meeting to my place? I live close by.”
“Good idea.”
“I’ll let my partner know we’re coming. She hates surprises but loves company,” said Jeri as she got out her cell. “What did you tell your office?”
“I’m visiting a sick uncle in Mission,” said Alex, as he dialed his uncle’s number. Norm Ferguson picked up. After inquiring as to Norm’s health and that of his wife, Marissa, Alex quickly brought him up to speed.
“Okay nephew, I got it,” said Norm, making note of the burner cell number Alex wanted him to use if he had to get in touch. “If anyone asks, I’m sick as a dog.” Alex called Gwen next. It went to voicemail and he left a message. No change in plans. He’d be staying in the lower mainland at least one more night. If anyone asked, he was visiting his Uncle Norm who was having some health issues. He hoped to be back in 100 Mile in time for his Monday afternoon shift. He had called the same story into the duty officer at 100 Mile House.
Alex followed Jeri out of the parking lot. She headed south, toward the US border and then east to her place in Langley. Jeri and Jasmine, her partner of six years, had a small, well-kept bungalow on Rees Lake Road, a quiet, out-of-the-way setting. To make it perfect, Anderson Creek meandered through a few lacy, white pines and one tall oak tree, right in their back yard.
Jasmine came out to greet them, offering her hand to Alex and a ‘Hi Sweetie,’ to Jeri.
He followed them into the house and through to their kitchen, a bright room with south facing windows and a sliding door which led onto a deck and a nice view of the creek. Jasmine, who preferred Jas, was a caseworker with the Ministry of Children and Families. Jeri and Alex pulled out their laptops and lists. Jas excused herself, leaving them to it.
Alex pulled out a few sheets of blank paper. “I like to do a diagram when there’s a lot of detail. It helps me organize my thoughts.”
“Good idea.” She left the room and quickly returned with a handful of markers. “I like colour.” She plunked the markers down on the table.
Alex listed the four police forces involved: VPD, Prince George RCMP, Terrace RCMP and 100 Mile House RCMP. Each got a separate box. Jeri sat beside him; computer open.
“A box for SFU and one for the Clarendon and another for Seabreeze Marine Boat Repair.” She pulled out the CD and the lists. “Did the hacker use his own computer?”
“No. Arenas said the hacker wiped and disposed of it when he was done.”
“Good,” said Jeri.
What’s on the CD?”
“Images of child sexual abuse,” said Alex and watched as Jeri struggled for composure.
“Who took the pictures and where?”
“O’Meara took the pictures Thursday night at the Boat Yard.”
“What!? They’ve had these pictures since Thursday night! Does anyone know they took them?! Shit. The boatyard. I had a good look around. Absolutely nothing jumped out at me.”
“Morgan and Lucas visited the same afternoon in disguise. Excellent disguises: I saw a picture this morning. They had the employee give them a tour. That was their first visit. The place seemed familiar to O’Meara and she had a gut feeling about the office in the main reception area.”
“Right. Window blinds closed. The office.”
“They returned that evening. They got into the yard by cutting a hole in the wire fencing and gained entry to the shop through a small window at the side of the building.”
Jeri shook her head. “Where was the evidence?”
“O’Meara kicked in the office door and they found books and calendars in one of the locked cupboards in the office. They got out just in time. A young man arrived as they were leaving the yard and parked by the main gate.”
“Tell me he didn’t see them!”
“They’re certain he didn’t. By the time he was in the building, they were beyond the fence. They retrieved their car, then drove past the gate entrance. A silver Suburban was parked there. O’Meara got pictures of the license plate.”
“We’ve got the CDs and club lists.”
“License pics are in a separate folder,” said Alex.
“Got it.” She went online and accessed the DMV data base and plugged in the plate number: 863 MAL.
“The lists from the Clarendon include: paid up members each year for the past three years; members who booked the clubs’ overnight facilities during the past year; and a third list of banquets, dinners and other functions that members have hosted at the club. That list includes the names of club members attending each function and the staff who
worked it. Waiters and bar-tending staff share a percentage of total sales for any function they work.”
“Suburban is leased to Northfor Tech. Principal driver is Ange Batlan.”
“Batlan is a friend of Amelia Boudreau’s father.”
“Amelia, Carey Bolton’s cousin. She visited the house on Franklin Street with O’Meara and Brennan.”
Alex did a search for Northfor. “Northfor is a large mining consortium. Head office is in Vancouver. They have mines in northern BC, Alberta, Manitoba, Ontario, Saskatchewan and Brazil, Columbia and Guatemala.”
“Let’s start with MacLeish, for reasons we already know.” Alex found his name on the membership list. “He’s been an associate member for at least three years. You should see this. He handed her the drawing Seth Boyce’s mother had given him.
“Did MacLeish ever see this?” Jeri studied the drawing closely.
“No. I don’t think she’s shown it to anyone. She found it after she reported Seth’s disappearance. I think she has always suspected MacLeish. She’s afraid of him.”
“Poor woman.”
“He belongs to her church,” said Alex.
“The bastard. Next, we have Ange Batlan. He leases the Suburban. That connects him to the boat yard and photos of child abuse. And if it’s the same car that Michael Bolton saw at the back of the Clarendon, that’s connects Batlan directly to Carey Bolton.”
“And he has that connection to her family through the uncle, Geoff Boudreau.”
“Right. Then we’ve got Theo Penderman. He owns the boatyard so that puts him in the frame,” said Jeri.
“He’s a member of the club,” said Alex, consulting the list. “This morning, I heard about two smear campaigns, one at SFU, discrediting O’Meara and Arenas and another up in Terrace, targeting Rosaline and Carey Bolton. Paul Revier’s name came up in connection with the Terrace smear campaign. He’s crown council for Terrace and Kitimat. Bolton told me that his sister thinks Revier’s involved in Carey’s disappearance.” He filled Jeri in.
She consulted the functions list. “Tracing back, Revier’s been at two of the most recent seven parties Batlan has hosted, about once a month. He’s on our list.” She continued flipping backward. “Wait.” She returned to the most recent functions and working backwards, began to highlight another name.
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