by Easton, Don
When Jack hung up, he gave Laura the details she had already heard, plus he said, “They only stayed one night in Niagara Falls because someone vandalized their motor home. He said they were upset about it and returned to the States the next day.”
“In other words, if whoever did it got caught with their gun, they didn’t want to be around to face the music.”
“You got it. He remembered asking them if anything had been stolen and said they were a little vague about that.”
“So we have a pretty good idea on how the gun arrived in Canada,” said Laura. “Now what?”
“Start tracking down places where you would stay with a motor home in Niagara Falls and see if there are any records of break-ins ten years ago. Other people could have been robbed and reported it. Maybe there were suspects or arrests.”
“Heck of a long shot. Also not what you would call organized crime.”
“I know, but Natasha is afraid it will fall by the wayside. I promised her I would look into it. Besides, I think we both could use a bit of a break from —” Jack stopped to answer his phone. It was CC and he quickly jotted down notes as he spoke with her.
— Ten years ago (September) gun used in a coffee-shop robbery in Regina. Bullet fired in ceiling.
— Nobody hurt. Small amount of $ taken. Suspect in his 40s, wearing ball cap, swarthy complexion — mole below left eye.
— Four years ago (August), a suspected drug dealer (Bernie Wingham) in Trail, B.C., was shot in the knee at his house. Bernie would not co-operate with police. No suspects.
— Two years ago (April), gun used in a mugging in Vancouver. Two men tried to rob an employee of an antique store of the day’s receipts when he stepped out to go to the bank. Victim shot through the arm. Bullet went through a window of a restaurant halfway down the block and lodged in a wall. Police were inside having dinner. Suspects got away in a car with stolen plates. Both with collar-length black hair, tall, early 20s.
— Same gun used to murder Melvin M.
“So, somehow I think the gun ended up in the hands of some kids,” said CC in conclusion. “I’ll send you copies of the reports I have on what I just told you. Maybe it was someone’s older brother who tried to rob the antique store.”
“Wasn’t this Bernie character in Trail re-interviewed after the antique store mugging?” asked Jack. “It sounds like blind luck that he didn’t get killed.”
“He was re-interviewed, but wouldn’t co-operate. Too afraid. Four years ago he was growing and selling pot. The members in Trail think he’s gone straight. He has since married and has two toddlers. The guy hobbles around with a permanent limp. I guess he counts himself as lucky to be alive.”
“So, now that he is married, he is even less likely to risk talking.”
“For sure. I just got off the phone with one of the members in Trail who tried to talk to him last time. Basically had the door slammed in their face. Now that the gun was used in a murder, I’m not optimistic that it will alleviate his fear at all. I guess we could try again but I think we’re wasting our time.”
“Do you mind if Laura and I try?”
“Fill your boots.”
“Does Bernie still live in the same house as when he was shot?”
“Yes. The member mentioned that the house used to be a junk heap, but now that Bernie is married, he actually has a white picket fence and flower beds. Why? What are you thinking of?”
“I’m thinking I’ve been drinking too much.”
The following day, it was suppertime when Jack and Laura approached Bernie Wingham’s house in Trail.
Jack did up the top buttons of his golf shirt on the way to the house and whispered, “How do I look?”
“Like you’re on your way to church,” replied Laura.
“Good, I’ll ring the bell and be right back.”
A moment later, Bernie’s face appeared in the door window. He saw Jack and Laura facing each other at the bottom of his porch steps and opened the door.
Jack was talking quietly and solemnly to Laura, but his words could be overheard. “God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
“It’s time,” replied Laura, glancing up at Bernie. “I’ll wait here. Go do it. Your eighth step.”
“What are you guys? Jehovah Witnesses? I’m not interested!” said Bernie through a half-opened door.
“Bernie, no, wait!” said Jack.
“You know my name? Who are you?” asked Bernie, limping out onto his porch. “What do you want?”
“I came to make amends,” said Jack, walking up the stairs to meet Bernie. “It is an important step in the program.”
“Amends for what?” asked Bernie. “What program?”
“My name is Jack,” said Jack, offering his hand.
“I said what do you want?” asked Bernie, ignoring the intended handshake.
Jack sighed and looked to Laura as if for support. She nodded encouragingly, and he turned to Bernie, and said, “I’m an alcoholic. I’m in recovery.”
“What the hell does that have to do with me? Did my wife put you up to this?” he asked, glaring back into the house.
“No. This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I came to apologize.”
“For what?”
“It was my idea to have you kneecapped four years ago.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” roared Bernie.
“Please, let me explain,” pleaded Jack, after giving Bernie a few seconds to recover. “I used to drink a lot back then.”
“Maybe you drank too much … because I don’t ever remember seeing you before,” said Bernie suspiciously. “And who’s she?” he asked, with a nod toward Laura.
“She’s my sponsor.”
“Yeah? For her, I’d join AA myself.” Bernie then glared at Jack and said, “I’d definitely remember her … and I ain’t never seen you before, either.”
“You probably haven’t. I scored some weed once from a guy who made me wait in the car while he came to see you. Later, I got to thinkin’ that you must have a lot of money.”
“So you put Angelo and Dominic up to it?”
“I was so drunk back in those days, I hardly remember much.” Jack looked around at the yard and said, “I wasn’t even sure if it was the right place. Somehow I thought it looked different. I don’t remember the fence.”
“How did you know them?”
“Know who?”
“The brothers. Angelo and Dominic. How did you know them?”
“Is that their names? I don’t even remember. I met them in a bar and one thing led to another. As I recall, I thought they may have already known you.”
“Yeah, they did. But … you’re telling me that it was your idea to rob me?”
“Sorry about that,” said Jack, hanging his head in shame. “I didn’t think anyone would get hurt. I stood six and was supposed to beep the horn if the cops were coming. It seemed like a good idea when we were drinking.”
“Jesus Christ,” sputtered Bernie. “Do you know I’m forever gimped now?”
“I didn’t know, man. I’m really sorry. Guess I should find Angelo and Dominic and apologize to them, too. I remember stealing their car radio a few days later.”
“You what? Jesus, you’re lucky they didn’t kill you.” Bernie paused and muttered, “Fuck, I should never have told you their names.” He cast a worried look at Jack and said, “Forget about them if you want to stay alive.”
“Stay alive? Why? Are they dangerous?”
“Dangerous! What the fuck do you think? Look at my leg!”
“Oh … yeah.”
“Not only that, the cops were around a couple of years ago, asking questions. The same gun was used to shoot somebody in Vancouver. More than that, two years ago Angelo and Dominic killed some guy in Vancouver.”
“With the same gun?” asked Jack.
“Nope. Sliced him up instead. I don’t think t
he cops ever did connect them with the gun.”
“Who did they kill two years ago? What guy?”
“Don’t know, but the cops have been looking for them for that. Let’s just say that Angelo and Dominic aren’t the forgiving type and wouldn’t appreciate being found. My advice is to keep your yap shut and get the fuck off my porch.”
“So, you forgive me?” asked Jack, giving himself a self-satisfied smile.
Bernie’s face turned red and he said, “Do I look like I fuckin’ forgive ya?”
“Oh … guess not. Sorry, I thought you did because you warned me about Angelo and Dominic.”
“I don’t give a fuck about you! I just don’t want you to do something that might bring Angelo and Dominic back to see me.”
Jack hung his head and turned and walked back down the steps while Bernie glared at him from the porch. Laura placed her arm around Jack’s shoulder to console him as they walked back to their car. In reality, she hoped that the shaking of their shoulders from snickering would be mistaken for grief.
“Hope ya end up back on the bottle!” yelled Bernie, as they drove away.
Twenty minutes later, Jack and Laura met with Constable Sarah Hundt in the Trail RCMP office. Sarah knew immediately who the brothers were. “There are Canada-wide warrants on them for murder,” she said. “Going back two years. Their mom still lives in Trail. We’ve still got their photos up on the bulletin board. Hang on and I’ll get them and pull the files.”
Like both their parents, Angelo and Dominic had lengthy criminal records with numerous offences for violence, robbery, and possession of stolen property. A Vancouver RCMP Drug Section informant had linked them to the torture and murder of a high-level heroin dealer in Vancouver two years prior. The heroin dealer bled to death from multiple slash marks made by a knife while he was tied to a chair. A search was made for the brothers, but they had vanished and the informant was unable to obtain any further information.
“Two years ago was about the same time that gun was used to rob an antique store,” commented Jack, while reaching for his own file to cross-reference when the antique store was robbed. He felt a rush of excitement as he compared the details. “The heroin dealer was killed on the same day and only a couple of hours before the robbery of the antique store!”
“That’s no coincidence,” said Laura.
“You’ve got that right,” replied Jack. “I’m betting the torture of the dealer was to get info on something. Either money or dope. The owner of that antique store was not an innocent victim. They wouldn’t have had to torture someone for that. Angelo and Dominic were after him for a lot more than the day’s income from the store.”
“We need to find Angelo and Dominic,” said Laura, turning to Sarah. “Where does their father live?”
“He died six years ago, drunk behind the wheel,” replied Sarah. “They didn’t have any other kids except Angelo and Dominic. The mom still lives in town.”
“So Dad died and the kids got the gun to carry on the family business,” said Jack.
Laura nodded in agreement.
Jack pointed to a file in front of him and said, “The mother, Giorgetta, her record includes convictions for prostitution in Hamilton, Ontario.”
“Hamilton … practically next door to Niagara Falls,” replied Laura.
“Angelo and Dominic’s criminal history is all in B.C., but the parents’ criminal history is largely out of southern Ontario,” noted Jack.
“When did the family move to Trail?” asked Laura.
“Our first record was a noise complaint ten years ago,” replied Sarah.
“Do you still have a picture of the father?” asked Jack.
Sarah nodded, then dug through a file and handed Jack a picture. Jack smiled and handed it to Laura. A mole was clearly visible under the father’s left eye. “We’ve solved who robbed the coffee shop in Regina,” he said.
“So that was when the family was moving west and picking up money for their travelling expenses,” replied Laura. “So, where to now?”
“Took us all day to get here and tomorrow will be wasted getting home. Let’s make it two for one and knock on another door. With Giorgetta’s background and desire to protect her sons, she’ll be paranoid, but we have nothing to lose.”
Jack and Laura both smiled at Giorgetta as she peered out a side window of her house before opening the door.
“Hi,” said Jack. “We’re friends of Angelo and Dominic. Are they around?”
“My boys don’t live here no more,” replied Giorgetta, suspiciously. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“We’re friends of theirs. Met them in Vancouver a couple of years ago before I moved to Cranbrook. I owe them some money for some stuff they gave me to fence … I mean, sell, in Cranbrook. They gave me your address and said I could always contact them through you.”
“Yeah? Is that a fact? When did you last talk to them?”
“Sometime last fall when they called me. They didn’t say much on the phone, but are anxious to get the money I owe them. I’ve got it now.”
“You’re a fuckin’ liar!” replied Giorgetta, spitting out the words.
“What?” replied Jack in surprise, while wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.
“You’re a fuckin’ liar! My sons have been dead for over two years!” She looked at Jack in disgust and said, “You fuckin’ cops … they may have been troubled boys, but they always called on Mother’s Day, even when they were in jail. They haven’t called in over two years. I know they’re dead. So, fuck off, cops!”
11
It was mid-morning on Thursday when Kang Lee spoke briefly with The Shaman as they walked toward the Avitat Lounge at the South Terminal of the Vancouver International Airport. Da Khlot and Sayomi trailed behind, out of earshot.
“I wish you a pleasant flight,” said Lee. “I look forward to the day when I shall accompany you home.”
“The day will arrive soon enough.”
“With Mister Goldie’s eagerness to fill my position, perhaps it could be sooner than six months? He is intelligent. I am sure he will learn fast.”
“And Mister Wang? Any indication that he was unhappy because he wasn’t chosen?”
“Not at all. He is happy in his own pond and agrees that Mister Goldie is better suited. In fact, when I met with them both, Mister Goldie displayed dismay at being slow in developing the market back east. Mister Wang volunteered that a couple of his associates would be moving to Montreal and might later be in a position to assist Mister Goldie. Their spirit of co-operation with each other and our organization appears to be good.”
“And what about Mister Goldie’s replacement? Do you think Mister Wang is capable of handling both functions?”
“No, Mister Wang indicates that he is busy enough. However, Mister Goldie says he has several reliable people in mind to choose from who would be suitable.”
“People he says are reliable depend upon his own reliability,” said The Shaman.
“He did not hesitate when I told him he would be required to take a lie detector test.”
“And, I presume, with the knowledge he will have acquired about our corporation, he knows what would happen should he fail such a test?”
“He does.”
“Still, Mister Goldie is not a family man. Something I consider an important asset to ensure loyalty. With him, I foresee an annual lie detector evaluation, combined with further assignments to ensure his sincerity. In the meantime, six months is not long. Haste brings mistakes. You must be absolutely certain he is the right man for the position before you vacate it. If he is not the right man, then we will find a new one. I would find no fault with you should such a decision be necessary prior to the six months.”
Lee nodded quietly.
“I know you are anxious to return to your family.”
“That is true,” lamented Lee.
“You know they will continue to be watched and well looked after. I recognize that you have w
orked hard. Your family has been rewarded accordingly. Do not spoil what you have,” added The Shaman with a subtle glance behind him, “by making a mistake.”
“I understand,” replied Lee, envisioning Da Khlot’s expressionless dark eyes watching his own family. The family he longed to be with.
It was late Friday afternoon when Laura dropped some documents onto Jack’s desk. “Your theory may be right,” she said. “Company checks — take a look.”
Jack looked at the documents and saw that two antique stores were owned by an Arthur Goldie, who also owned a Vancouver nightclub called Goldie Locks. It was Goldie’s employee who had been shot in the arm two years ago. Neither the employee nor Arthur Goldie had any criminal record.
“I talked to the narcs,” said Laura. “They told me they currently have an ongoing undercover operation targeting heroin at the ounce level. Last week, one of the operators bought a quarter-pound from a dealer by the name of Jojo. The narcs followed him after the order was placed and he went to the Goldie Locks nightclub for a few minutes. He then met the operator an hour later at a McDonald’s restaurant and did the deal.”
“Did they see who Jojo met in the nightclub?”
“They said he met with numerous people. The narcs couldn’t tell who was involved with the deal.”
“Could be a coincidence,” said Jack. “Maybe Jojo went to see who was around to party with him after his sale.”
“You won’t think it’s a coincidence after you read these next reports,” said Laura, handing Jack some more papers.
Jack scanned the reports and saw that Goldie Locks nightclub had come up in numerous wiretaps and drug investigations over the years as a common meeting spot for several high-level heroin dealers, including the heroin dealer tortured and murdered by Angelo and Dominic.
“Love it!” said Jack, with a smile. “Too big of a coincidence for Angelo and Dominic to torture a drug dealer and rob an antique store later the same day. Especially when both places are owned by the same person. In my books, Arthur Goldie is dirty.”
