“We couldn’t trust anybody. The facts of the case support that. So, what’s his real agenda?”
“We’ve butted heads quite a few times. Gendered issues.”
“The Force isn’t immune to those.”
“No kidding!”
“It’s embarrassing to a lot of us, Jeri. Really!”
“I know, Alex.”
“So, Portchanal’s a childish ass. We have our share of those too. You’re thinking of quitting?”
“I am. A guy named Sanjit Rory contacted me a few days ago. He works for an outfit called Summit Security. They have an office here and one in Toronto. Apparently, I’ve got a job if I want it. Interview’s a formality and the money’s a lot better than I make now.”
“How did he know you might be interested?”
“He’s got a connection here for sure; he knew about my move out of MPU before I did, for chrissakes. I’m disenchanted with the VPD. I guess disenchanted is putting it too mildly. I’ve been very vocal about what needs to change around here. Rory didn’t refer to any of that, not directly anyway.”
“Security firm. That’d mostly be contract work.”
“Lots of government contracts. I did a search on them before I spoke with Rory. It pulled up nothing useful and they’ve been in business for fifteen years. That’s probably tied directly to their clientele, but they keep that list pretty close to their chest.”
“Interesting. Wonder what they’re hiding.”
“Alex! Where’s the trust?” said Jeri, laughing. “They’re protecting their clientele. Rory did say they have contracts with Canadian Security Intelligence Services. I’m not sure that’s the direction I want to go.”
“CSIS used to be a branch of the Force.”
“Yeah, until they got too hot to handle.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” said Alex, with a chuckle. “You could always work for yourself. I’ve been very tempted to make the switch a few times myself lately.”
“It’s not surprised to hear that, Alex. We have some Indigenous members. They’re not all singing the praises of the VPD.”
“There’s race issues for sure. But some of it is just the job and how hard it’s getting to get the Crown to put a case forward.”
“No kidding! I’ll admit, I’d prefer to walk out the door, but money would be tight for a few years, at least until I built up a clientele, and we’ve got a hefty mortgage. It’d be hard on Jas to keep us afloat on her salary, even with her raise. Living on the West Coast isn’t cheap.”
“You two do love the lower mainland.” Alex didn’t really get it. He and Gwen were small town.
“Call us crazy, but we do.”
Alex changed the subject. “I should tell you that I called Lucas Arenas to make sure Morgan O’Meara was covered. I’m not trying to second guess the VPD.”
“I’m sure Gwen insisted!”
“In my defence, she did.”
“Rest assured, going forward, all of the witnesses in our jurisdiction have uniforms on them around the clock.”
“I just put Gwen on alert. Speaking of Gwen, she wants me to invite you and Jas up for some ice fishing. We’ll have to wait on that now. That’s a shame.”
“Not really, Alex. Ice fishing is not my idea of a good time. I like to do my fishing without gloves.”
“The ice is half the fun,” said Alex.
“It must be an acquired taste,” said Jeri.
“We’ll have to have you two up for a visit when things quiet down. No ice fishing. I promise.”
“We’d both like that.”
Half an hour later, Alex was about to leave the office when James Brandeis called again.
“The tech guys are looking over Ange Batlan’s computer. There was some back and forth between Batlan and someone calling themselves razum, which I’m told means brilliant in Russian. Not unfriendly correspondence it would appear. That was just before we turned him.”
“The illusive Gregori Kirigin maybe,” said Alex.
“I wish we knew a lot more about Kirigin. And Eric Severall.”
“We turned Batlan a month ago,” said Alex. How the hell did Kirigin find out? We’re the only ones with access to the Crown’s files. Unless—”
“Someone talked,” Brandeis finished.
“But who? Someone wanted to send a message.”
“Sure looks that way.”
“Maybe Kirigin decided to do some of the heavy lifting?”
“Maybe. Your wife has been informed?”
“Soon as I heard.”
“Has Kennedy put a detail on her?” Staff Sergeant Kennedy was the 100 Mile House detachment head.
“Yes.”
“What about you?” said Brandeis. “If you hadn’t uncovered MacLeish’s involvement, we’d be completely in the dark about these bastards. You’re the one who exposed the ring. Be careful, Alex.”
“Understood.” As soon as they hung up, Alex left the office. He headed out to the parking lot and got in his car. It was nearly 7:00 pm. Gwen had called while he was talking to Brandeis. She probably wanted him to pick up something on his way home. He plugged in his Bluetooth, got on the road, and hit play. There was a recent message from her.
Will you be home soon?
Strange. Not like Gwen to check on him. He called her. The phone rang and rang before she finally picked up.
“Alex.”
“Gwen, everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Have you eaten yet?” She hesitated a moment before answering.
“I ate earlier, the last of the steak we had last night. But I did get takeout lasagna for you, just like I promised,” she added brightly.
Gwen didn’t do brightly, but more important for Alex, they didn’t have steak last night; they went out for Thai food. Alex’s gut instantly knotted tight and he slammed the accelerator to the floor. It was a ten-minute drive from the office to their house; he was half-way there.
Assuming the phone was on speaker, he played along. “I’m nearly home, honey. See you in a few minutes.”
“See you then,” she said, hanging up abruptly.
Alex put a call through to Corporal Goodwin.
“Hi Alex.”
“I just spoke with Gwen. I think she’s in trouble. Something she said tipped me off. I’m a few minutes out. Where are you now?”
“We’re four houses west of your place.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Close to half an hour.”
“I’ll come to you. We’ll move on the house together.”
“Copy that.”
When Alex pulled in behind the unmarked a few minutes later, Marchand and Goodwin quickly joined him.
“I think someone’s with Gwen. We’ll approach my place via the forested area out back. I think my neighbor is on holiday. We’ll approach via his back yard. I’ll go in via a basement window at the side of the house. That’ll give me access to the stairway that opens onto the kitchen at the back of the house. You two cover the front and back doors. Don’t enter till I give the signal.” Both men nodded. They exited the car and quickly made their way down a lane beside one of the houses, crawling over a fence to get to the forested area.
Alex led the way, plowing through the snow that was waist high in places. He stopped abruptly, waiting until the others were beside him.
“We’ll go in here,” he said, pointing to the house beside his. Alex scaled his neighbor’s fence and made his way quickly to the corner of his place, Marchand and Goodwin right on his heel.
“Get into position,” he whispered. “I’m going in now. Wait for my signal to enter.” Wordlessly, Marchand headed between the houses to the front and Goodwin to the back entrance. Alex made his way to a side basement window close to the back. He hunkered down and took off his gloves. He pulled out his keys and using one of them as a wedge, managed to snap off the plastic clips that held the screen. He pulled it off and
threw it to one side, then pulled out his pistol. He’d have to break the glass to get access to the lock.
The temperature had been well below zero for a week and he knew the glass would be brittle and easy to crack. He raised his gun to tap the pane on the edge, just above the lock, when the main floor bathroom window on his side flooded with light. Alex froze and waited until he heard the toilet flush, quickly followed by the window going dark. He waited another ten seconds, then tapped on the glass. A crack spread quickly to the centre of the pane. He tapped again. More cracks appeared but the pane still held.
“Alex,” Goodwin hissed from the corner of the house. Alex looked over.
“Gwen’s in the kitchen and someone’s with her.” Alex nodded, and Goodwin moved around back again. The kitchen was on the opposite corner of the house, at the top of the basement stairs, so there was little chance of him hearing glass break. Alex risked one heavy knock and the pane shattered, spraying the basement floor below. He yanked the lock open, pushed the window to one side, then quietly dropped through to the floor below. Listened. There was the sound of footsteps moving down the hall toward the front of the house. His was an older home and the basement was completely open. He stepped over the broken glass and ran for the stairs. Gun out, he quietly started up, eyes trained on the kitchen light that shone through the crack at the bottom of the door above him. A shadow moved across the light.
“He said he was on his way,” uttered a man’s gruff voice. “Where the hell is he.”
Alex was at the top of the stairs. He reached for the doorknob, turned it quietly, pulled it toward him. Gwen was tied to one of the kitchen chairs. The guy was at her side, his back to Alex.
“What difference does it make. You’re going to kill us both anyway.”
“Shut up bitch.”
Alex was through the doorway and behind him in two quick strides. He planted his gun in the guy’s neck, grabbed him by his vest, whirled and pushed him face first against the closest kitchen wall. Holstering his own weapon, Alex yanked the guy’s arms back and quickly cuffed him, then relieved him of his gun and his phone, stuffing them into his vest pockets.
“On the floor!” Alex pushed him down.
“Fuck you!”
Alex rushed to Gwen and quickly untied her.
“Oh Alex! I wasn’t sure if you understood,” she managed to get out before she started to cry. “It’s okay! I’m alright. These are happy tears.”
“I got the message, honey, loud and clear.” He gave her a quick hug. “I’ll get Marchand and Goodwin. They can take this asshole to the detachment.”
“I heard him on the phone with someone; twice. I think they were arguing the second time.”
Alex nodded, but said nothing. He went over to the guy and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go.” He marched him through the alcove, across the living room to the back entryway. He pulled the door open and waved to Goodwin, who bounded up to the back porch and moved inside.
“He’s all yours,” said Alex, handing the perp over. “I’ve got his gun and phone.” Goodwin grabbed the guy by an elbow and followed Alex, who’d headed down the hall to the front door and opened it.
“We got him,” said Alex.
“I’ll get the car,” said Marchand, heading down the block.
“Here’s his jacket,” said Gwen, coming down the hall and handing it to Alex. “I don’t want it in my house!” Alex searched the pockets and found a motel key card and a thin wallet.
“Slumberlodge,” said Alex. He handed the jacket to Goodwin and pocketed the wallet and key card.
Alex pulled out the guy’s phone and turned it on. No password.
“The second call was just before you got here,” said Gwen.
Alex checked the call log: two calls from the same number in the last hour and four texts. The last one: are they dead yet? Alex shoved the phone in his jacket pocket. Marchand arrived back with the cruiser shortly after.
“Let Kennedy know you’re on the way. He’ll want to take this interview. Tell him I’m right behind you, with Gwen.”
“Someone should check out his room,” said Goodwin.
“Kennedy will send one of you over.”
Alex and Gwen watched from the door as the two men hustled the guy out the door, down the walk and into the waiting cruiser, before shutting the door. He put his arm around her.
“Kennedy will want to interview you and we’ll need you to do a written statement.”
“I know.”
“Of course, you do.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “He was hired to kill us Alex,” she whispered. “Do you think we’re being targeted because we’re Indigenous?” She’d been adopted by a family in Halifax, Nova Scotia when still an infant and technically, knew nothing about her birth parents. But most people, including Alex, assumed she had some Indigenous heritage, including her adoptive parents.
Alex was silent for a moment. They’d dealt with threats before, but nothing like this. He was police, and Indigenous. It came with the territory. “No. I think this attempt on us is tied to the child trafficking case.”
“You, especially, are a threat to them,” said Gwen. “If it wasn’t for you—”
“He wouldn’t have been here at all.” He reached for her hands. “When did he get here?”
“About twenty minutes after I ordered takeout. He was carrying a paper bag. I just assumed he was the delivery guy with our lasagna order.”
Alex closed his eyes and shook his head slightly in warning. “Let’s get you to the detachment to give a statement.”
“Do we have to go tonight?” said Gwen, playing along.
“Kennedy will want to interview you ASAP.”
“Okay.” She got her coat and boots and put them on. They left the house and walked the short distance to where Alex had parked. Neither said a word until they were in the car. Alex motioned for her to give him her phone. She passed it over. He pulled the battery from her phone, then did the same to his.
Gwen was first to speak. “He knew I’d ordered takeout.”
Alex nodded. He started the car, backed onto their street, and headed for the detachment. Gwen turned to look at their house.
“What if our house is bugged. But how? I haven’t had any work shifts since we got home from holiday and with all this snow, I’ve hardly been out.” Alex said nothing. “Oh no, Alex! They could have planted anything they wanted when we were on holiday!”
“It’s either that, or our phones are being monitored. Or both.” Gwen looked at their phones, now resting in the caddy between them.
“Are we going back to the house tonight?”
“I need to arrange a sweep for cameras and that can’t happen till tomorrow morning. It’s best if we get a room.”
“You’re right,” said Gwen. “I doubt I’d get any sleep here anyway.”
When they arrived at the detachment, there was no sign of Kennedy’s car. Alex parked and accompanied Gwen to his office. She sat down and he got her a cup of tea and a muffin.
“It might be stale. This is all I could find.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll go see if Kennedy’s here.”
“Okay.” She took a sip of tea, leaned back, and closed her eyes.
Alex met Kennedy in front of his office door. They entered it.
“Christ Alex!” Kennedy was visibly shaken. “How’s Gwen?”
“I don’t know,” said Alex. “She’s in my office.”
“Thank God she’s safe. What about you?”
“I’m good.”
“I alerted the VPD and called Surrey Command. I left a message for Inspector Brandeis. I’d like to interview Gwen this evening if you think she’s up to it.”
Before Alex had a chance to answer, Kennedy’s phone rang. “It’s Brandeis,” he said, picking up. “Inspector, thanks for getting back. Sergeant Desocarras just arrived. He’s her
e with me. I’m putting you on speaker. There was an attempt on Alex and his wife Gwen less than half and hour ago.”
“Jesus Alex! Are you okay?”
“We’re okay,” said Alex. “Gwen is pretty shaken up.”
“What happened?”
“The perp knew Gwen had ordered takeout. He arrived at our door with a bag, pretending to be the delivery guy from a local Italian restaurant. Thing is, only Gwen and I knew she was ordering. Either someone is listening in to our phone conversations or our house is bugged, which would have been easy. We got back from holiday a week ago. Gwen managed to tip me off during a phone conversation and I was able to enter our house via the basement and disarm the perp. We took him into custody about twenty minutes ago.”
“Where are your phones?”
“I removed the batteries from both, just in case. They’re in my office.”
“Has anyone had a look at the perp’s phone?”
“I did. There are two recent calls from the same number,” said Alex, “which jives with what Gwen noted, and four texts in the last few hours from the same number. We’ll try pinging it now, but it’s probably a lost cause. If the house is wired, he’ll know we have his hire in custody. He’s probably ditched the phone.”
“I’ll send a team up first thing tomorrow morning to do a sweep of your house.” He spoke briefly to someone at his end and came back on the line. “They’ll be there by 8:00 am.”
“We’ll pick them up at the airport,” said Kennedy. “I’ll be interviewing Gwen and the suspect soon as I get off the phone with you.”
“Call me when you’re done.”
Kennedy hung up and looked at Alex. “Are you sure Gwen is up to talking?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll interview her first, then you can get lodgings for the two of you.
“I’ll do my report while you interview her.”
It was nearly ten o’clock when they left the detachment. They picked up take-out sandwiches at Tim Hortons. Next stop was the Red Coach Inn. Alex requested a room in one of the second-floor wings with a separate entrance. Goodwin and Marchand were on watch, one in the room, the other at the side entrance. Once Gwen was settled in, Alex returned to the detachment. Kennedy was in his office.
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