Brazen Violations

by Jonathan Macpherson

  “Was the drone recovered?” Forrest asked.

  “What was left of it,” Betts said. “Impossible to say if it was shot down.”

  “We should prosecute Cakes for damaging police property and interfering in police business,” Vance said.

  “Ah, but we had no business being there. No warrant. I’m half expecting them to make a complaint for harassment,” Braun said.

  “So we just need to find the weapon and then we have a case,” Forrest said.

  “Yeah, we could go down that path. But by the time we get the warrant they would have removed the weapon. I’m thinking we ought to build a case, here.”

  “Has the media been informed of Mrs. Dover’s accident?” Betts asked.

  “No, we’re going to keep it quiet.”

  “Good, then I suggest we get the warrant and get in there before they can move or destroy the weapon, and whatever else they’ve got,” Betts said.

  “What makes you think she’s not expecting us? She knows we’re watching. She’s probably already disposed of the weapon and any other incriminating evidence. If she is the head of this heroin importation ring, you can bet she’s put business on hold.”

  “She’s probably in the process of doing that as we speak. We ought to strike now.”

  “I’m not fronting up to the judge for another warrant after the last fiasco! Chances are we’ll turn up nothing and then we’ll have to close down the surveillance.”

  “It’s a risk worth taking, in my opinion,” Betts said.

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” said Braun.

  “So why the hell am I here?”

  “To do your job.”

  They both eyeballed each other. Braun finally blinked and took a breath. “We tried that approach last time, didn’t work. This time we pull back, let them relax, think that we’ve moved on. We keep partial intercepts on their phone calls and internet, but we lie low. No drones. They can’t close shop for too long, and when they start again, we’ll be able to document everything they’re doing and build a solid case. It’s a longer way, but it’ll yield more evidence. We’ll have a stronger case.”

  “Fair enough,” Betts said, still not convinced.

  “I’m thinking that white collar crew that left her demountable office yesterday, they’re involved in something sketchy. We need to find out what it is. Have them tailed on their way home tomorrow so we can ID them. Alright, back to the grind,” Braun said. They all went back to work. Forrest tapped Betts on the shoulder.

  “Lunch?” asked Forrest.

  “Yeah,” said Betts.

  Chapter 31

  Betts and Forrest sat in a busy diner having lunch.

  “Braun’s going to fuck up the whole thing. He thinks he is playing a fucking game of chess. Now is the time to strike.” Forrest said. “You said so yourself.”

  “Maybe he’s right,” Betts said before taking a mouthful of food.

  “What, about building a case? We’ll be retired by the time they build a case!” Forrest shook his head, then stuffed some food down. “You know what I wouldn’t mind doing? Putting some spyware in their phones.”

  “That’s illegal, you know,” Betts said.

  “It’s virtually impossible to trace!” Forrest said. “Have you seen what the new stuff can do? Monitor calls, text messages, geo-tags so you can track them. You can turn their phone into a bugging device, record their conversations when they’re not even using the phone. All live, twenty-four seven, no warrant, nobody looking over your shoulder.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s a federal crime.”

  “It’s still a legal grey area. Of course we wouldn’t use it to prosecute, but we could use it to fix up a sting. All you do is send them a text message with the viral software attached. Once they open the message, boom! We’re in. But if we sent it to all three of them, they might get suspicious.”

  “Without a doubt. Plus, there would be a permanent record of that text from a phone that could be traced back to us, unless we did all the monitoring remotely.”

  “Here,” said Forrest, handing his cell phone over to Betts. On the screen was an open website called spEye-ware.com. “All we have to do is sign up to this website and we’re in business.”

  “If you want to dabble in federal crime that’s your business,” Betts said, handing the cell phone back to Forrest. He put some money on the table and stood up.

  “I’m not dabbling. Just throwing it out there,” Forrest said.

  Betts walked out of the diner.

  Chapter 32

  Cakes emerged from the demountable office with a duffle bag in which he had collected the laptops and cell phones. He walked around to a small junkyard of vehicle parts and empty drums at the back of the building. Inside one of the drums was red-hot fire, fueled by sacks of stolen mail and gasoline. Cakes emptied the laptops and cell phones into the fire and took a few steps back to watch it all burn.

  Chapter 33

  Lauren pushed Peter’s wheelchair through the busy hospital foyer, anxious to check on Mitch. She hadn’t seen him since the gunman tried to kill him and was determined to convince him to tell the police everything, to get police protection for her and Peter, maybe go into protective custody.

  ***

  Frances kept her eyes to the floor, careful not to allow her face to be seen by the newly installed security cameras that had been strategically placed to make sure there wasn’t a blind spot in the hospital. She was dressed in civilian clothes and had a band-aid on the underside of her chin, covering the dark mole that might otherwise give her away to anybody who had seen her during her last visit.

  Frances spotted the young woman pushing the wheelchair along across the foyer and, concealing something in her clenched fist, she hastened towards them, hoping she had found the right woman. She caught up to them just before they got in the lift.

  “You’re his sister, aren’t you?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lauren said, her heart sinking, anticipating danger.

  “Mitch Walker, you’re his sister.”

  “Yes.”

  Frances reached out towards Lauren and opened her hand, revealing a red USB thumb drive.

  “Please give this to him.”

  “What is it?”

  “Thank you,” Frances said and disappeared among the crowd of nurses.

  Chapter 34

  Officer Jenkins sat in the corner reading a magazine. Mitch leaned over his hospital bed towards Peter, speaking earnestly with him as Lauren sat nearby, arms folded, watching. Peter was even more gaunt than the last time Mitch had seen him, with dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he didn’t have much time left.

  “It’s a bad word. I know you heard if from me and I was wrong to say it. It’s a terrible word, okay?” Mitch said.

  Pete nodded his head, eyes to the floor.

  “You won’t say it again, will you?”

  Pete shook his head.

  “Good boy,” Mitch said, and tousled the boy’s hair. As Mitch leaned back, he knocked a jug off the bedside table, water spilling all over his bed. “Fuck! I mean far out, far out!” Mitch said, but it was too late. Lauren shook her head as Pete flashed a smile.

  “Nice one, Mitch,” Lauren said.

  The door opened and Betts walked in. “Greetings,” he said with a smile.

  Lauren smiled back and Pete’s face lit up to see the detective. Betts was alarmed at the condition of the boy but did well to hide it.

  “Where’s your gun?” Pete asked.

  “Safe and sound,” Betts chuckled, hoping Lauren wouldn’t suspect that he had shown it to the boy previously.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Lauren said, “see you tomorrow, Mitch,” she said and wheeled Peter out of the room.

  “Good news: you’re well enough to be released tomorrow,” Betts said.

  “To where? Prison?”

  “That’s what happens when you break the law.”

  “And that’s good news?”
<
br />   “Well, you’re making a full recovery, so...” Betts gave up the positive spin. He knew as well as anybody there was nothing good about being sent to prison, especially for a first timer like Mitch, a guy who had been a decent citizen his whole life, until recently.

  “Your co-operation has been duly noted and will no doubt reduce your sentence. But I would look at getting a new lawyer, if I were you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Turns out the big Cheese is working for Doc Roberts.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, long time associate. Where’d you find him, anyway?”

  “He said he had been appointed by the court.”

  “Did he say that? Or did he make you think he said it?”

  “Aw, shit, I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t exactly say it.”

  “Whatever information you told him, probably went straight back to Doc and his associates,” Betts said.

  Mitch squinted and squirmed in his bed, mentally putting the pieces together. Cheeseman had been assigned to Mitch to find out everything he knew, and everything he had told the cops. Doc had obviously decided it was too risky to keep Mitch alive, so once Cheeseman had milked him of his life savings, the order had been put out to have Mitch killed. It all made sense now.

  Chapter 35

  Lauren and Peter were waiting by the elevator when Ray arrived. The light on the elevator button was green, but that didn’t stop Ray from pushing it repeatedly.

  “How’s it going?” Ray asked Peter.

  “Okay,” said Peter. Lauren didn’t like the look of the guy, or the fact that he was stupid enough to ask Peter how he was going when it was obvious he was seriously ill. Ray looked at Lauren and pointed at Peter.

  “Leukemia?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “You on the Rituxan?”

  “No,” Lauren said. “You know about leukemia?”

  “Yeah, my uncle had it, rest his soul. Expensive stuff, isn’t it?”

  “Outrageous,” Lauren said. “So it didn’t help him?”

  “It probably would have. But it took us so long to get enough cash together for the meds, it was too late.”

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Lauren said.

  “Thank you,” Ray said, rubbing his eye as if hiding a tear. “I recognized the leukemia in your boy as soon as I saw him. Evil goddamned disease. I spent all my life savings on those meds, and now they’re just gathering dust.”

  The elevator bell chimed and the doors opened. Ray waited as Lauren rolled Peter inside, then pushed the ground floor button.

  “I’m Lauren, by the way, this is my son Peter,” Lauren said.

  Ray smiled and shook their hands.

  Chapter 36

  “What about my sister and nephew? They’re going to need protection,” Mitch said.

  “We’re keeping an eye on them,” said Betts.

  “At this moment?”

  “I’ve got a guy watching them this very moment. A good guy.”

  “Good? You mean good like him?” Mitch said, referring to Jenkins, who looked up sheepishly.

  “Officer Jenkins saved your life, you ungrateful shit. You should be thanking him.”

  “Sorry, Jenkins, I didn’t mean that. Thanks for, you know, not letting me die,” Mitch said, then realized he may have sounded sarcastic. “Sincerely, thanks,” Mitch said.

  Jenkins nodded and looked back at his magazine.

  “Why weren’t there any other cops?” Mitch said.

  “We’ve been over this, you’ll get more protection, okay!? And we’ll look out for your sister, too,” Betts said.

  “Yeah, well, no offense, but I’m not filled with confidence,” Mitch said.

  “We’ll do everything we can.”

  “But it won’t be enough, will it?” Mitch said. “Just be honest about it. I need to get extra protection for them don’t I?”

  Betts considered his answer, then shook his head. “No. You don’t,” he said. “I got to go. I’ll be in touch.”

  Betts walked out of the hospital, hoping he was right about not needing additional protection, but shaking his head with doubt. He knew the two officers appointed to protect Lauren and Peter would only be around as long as Mitch’s trial lasted and even then, they would be operating solo on alternating shifts. If Doc wanted to take her out it would be almost impossible for a lone cop to stop him and his crew. And Betts had no doubt Doc would organize a hit. It was just a matter of time.

  ***

  Betts walked into the darkened hospital car park, keys in hand, and deactivated his car alarm. As he climbed in, he saw a boy in a wheelchair sitting beside the front of a sedan parked in the shadows. Is that Peter? Whoever it is, what the hell is doing sitting there all alone? Betts got out and locked his vehicle. He walked between some parked cars then along the lane, headed towards the child.

  Definitely Peter. Where’s his mother?

  He noticed some activity in the shadows at the rear end of the vehicle, close to the wall. Getting closer still, he recognized Lauren talking to a seedy looking character, busy doing what looked all too familiar to Betts: a drug deal.

  Peter turned and saw Betts. “Hello,” he said.

  Betts smiled and put a finger to his lips, gesturing for Peter to be quiet. He pulled out his Glock. Peter smiled back, thinking that Betts was going to give him the handgun.

  Lauren and Ray looked around the side of the vehicle. Ray had seen more than enough cops to recognize one on sight, especially with Glock in hand. He turned and bolted.

  “Freeze!” Betts yelled.

  Ray ran between a line of parked cars and Betts ran to the same line, directly behind him. He crouched and squinted, aiming his weapon low, then squeezed the trigger.

  BANG!

  The bullet grazed Ray’s ankle and sent him toppling to the floor. It was a perfect shot: minimal damage, but enough impact to stop the suspect in his tracks.

  “Get Peter out of here,” Betts said to Lauren, then ran over to Ray, pistol ready.

  “Let me see your hands!” he yelled.

  Ray, on his stomach, put his hands out in front of him.

  “Why’d you have to shoot me, man?”

  “I didn’t feel like running,” Betts said.

  Chapter 37

  Betts sat opposite Lauren in the interview room, a tape recorder on the table between them. He was staggered that she would leave Peter sitting alone in a car park while she did business with a criminal. He had wondered if she was somehow working for Doc like Mitch had been, and if maybe there was more to the crime than there first appeared to be.

  “I just wanted to help my son,” she said. “I need to get him home now.”

  He believed her. There was a knock on the door and Forrest walked in.

  “You’re free to go,” Betts said. “Just a word of advice: next time you go to a drug deal, leave your kid at home.”

  Feeling ashamed and humiliated, Lauren left the room.

  “A little harsh, don’t you think?” Forrest asked.

  “What happened with the other guy?”

  “He’s not talking,” Forrest said.

  “I suppose you felt sorry for him? Or did you admire him for selling stolen meds to a dying kid?”

  “Hey, take it easy.”

  Betts grabbed the tape recorder and walked out.

  ***

  Betts walked outside into the police station parking lot, headed for his car. He noticed Lauren hailing a cab, Peter beside her. Betts watched as the cab pulled up. Lauren opened the door and began helping Peter inside when he started vomiting uncontrollably. The driver saw what was happening, got out and shut the back door then took off. Betts headed over to them.

  “Can I give you a ride?”

  “Thank you, yes. I would really appreciate it,’ she said. He helped Peter into the back seat and they were soon on their way.

  They drove through the suburbs and barely a word was spoken the whole way.

  “You n
eed to know, that man who tried to sell you the medicine, we think he’s connected to the same people that tried to kill your brother,” Betts said.

  “What?”

  “That medicine was stolen in an armed robbery, it was intended as payment to your brother, had he not been arrested at the airport. They didn’t have a buyer, so they were trying to offload it to you.”

  Lauren closed her eyes and dropped her head.

  “I’ve organized a squad car to be stationed outside your residence, starting from tonight. Unless you are against the idea.”

  “For how long?” she asked.

  “That depends on the outcome of the investigation. To be honest, whatever happens, it would be probably be in your best interests to relocate. We can help you with that.”

  “Stop the car,” she said.

  Betts pulled over and Lauren scrambled to open the back door on Peter’s side. Betts watched in the rear view mirror as the kid leaned out and vomited.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, wiping the boy’s mouth with a cloth. “I’m sorry, there’s some vomit on your car,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “It’s just up here, number twenty-four B,” she said, shutting the door. Betts continued then pulled into the driveway of the unit. He got out and removed the wheelchair from the trunk and unfolded it.

  “Thank you,” Lauren said, helping Peter into the chair. “We are not in a position to relocate, that’s just impossible for us at the moment,” she said.

  “I understand,” Betts said, wheeling Peter to the front door of the house, “I’ll make sure you are protected, whatever happens,” he said. But they were just words to her, and she gave him the slightest of smiles.

  “Mom!” Peter said, then lurched forward, vomiting on the driveway.