by Easton, Don
“These were taken a few months back when they arrived,” said Rose.
Goldie looked at the next picture showing Jack and Laura leaving a fashionable apartment complex.
“This last photo is a little more recent,” said Rose, “taken from a restaurant patio overlooking the Bayshore Marina.”
Goldie looked at the photo and saw Laura sipping a glass of wine. She was wearing a bikini and sitting on the deck of a luxury powerboat. Jack, wearing a golf shirt and cargo shorts, sat beside her.
“So?” asked Rose. “Do they look familiar?”
“Yes, that is them,” admitted Goldie. “They have been in my club a few times. I think the guy told one of my waitresses that they were from Edmonton. Why?”
“From Edmonton? That’s a laugh,” said Rose. She studied Goldie’s face briefly and said, “You really don’t know who they are, do you?”
Goldie shook his head and said, “Just a couple of customers. That’s all I know.”
“Who have they been meeting with in there? Have they been coming in with any other people?”
“Not anyone that I’ve seen. They seem like a nice couple. Real friendly with everyone. My staff likes them. No complaints. They’re not troublemakers.”
“Any other customers they socialize with?”
“Not really. As I said, they’re friendly with everyone, but don’t socialize with anyone in particular.”
“If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll have the tax man all over your joint. Health inspectors, too.”
Jack leaned forward in his chair, peering through the one-way glass in the back of the van. “Looks like Rose is really giving it to him,” he said to Laura, without turning around. “She’s wagging her finger in his face. Maybe she would make a good operator.”
“Yes, playing herself,” replied Laura.
“Go ahead,” said Goldie defiantly, glaring at Rose. “Call the tax man. I’ll give you my accountant’s name. And as far as cleanliness goes, my place is tops. We cater to a sophisticated crowd. If you would ever step inside, you would know that.”
Rose returned Goldie’s stare briefly before lowering her eyes submissively. “Okay,” she said. “I believe you. Maybe the son of a bitch has decided to retire.” Rose’s face brightened and she said, “Makes it easy for us. We can conclude our file. I’m sorry to have bothered you with this. We had to make sure. I’ll give you a ride back now.”
“Do you mind telling me who they are?”
“Well, I can tell you they’re not really from Edmonton. They’re from Montreal.”
“Montreal?”
“Yup. I don’t know how much you know about the Irish Mafia, but Happy Jack O’Donnell is, or I guess was, one of the captains in that mob. One of the oldest and most established crime families in North America. A long history of extreme violence. People who have crossed them have been found dead and missing various body parts.”
Goldie’s thoughts briefly returned to a mugger outside a convenience store.
“We heard that he might be retiring,” continued Rose, “but we didn’t know if it was true. We were afraid he might be coming to build connections. Telling people he is from Edmonton makes it seem more like he is hiding his past. It fits the retirement mode.”
Jack turned around in his chair again from where he was watching Rose from out of the back of a van and smiled. “Rose glanced our way and made a fist and scratched the bottom of her chin with her thumb nail.”
“The old thumbs up,” replied Laura. “Must be going well.”
“We’ll see if he says anything to us tomorrow night when we go in. If he does, I’ll thank him and show some appreciation for him telling us.”
“What if he doesn’t say anything?”
“I’ll tell him we know about it and thank him anyway.”
“You’ll tell him we know about it?”
“If I have to, I’ll get my old partner, Danny O’Reilly, to seem like he’s dirty and deliver me a fake report. Give the appearance that Irish blood is thicker than justice routine. If Goldie doesn’t say anything tomorrow night, we’ll still show our appreciation because he didn’t tell Rose anything.”
“He didn’t have anything to say to Rose, even if he wanted to.”
“I know. But either way, I’ll show him our gratitude. The hook will be baited. I bet we get action soon.”
Jack was right on his guess that they would be getting action soon. Later that same night, Goldie met with Wang again in the alley behind Wang’s restaurant and told him about his visit from the RCMP.
“How long before Woo moves to Montreal?” asked Goldie.
“Today is Friday,” noted Wang. “He told me he moves into a new apartment on the first of August. That’s next week so I expect he’ll be leaving in the next couple of days.”
“Good. I’m not taking anything at face value. Let’s check him out pronto. Tell Woo to find an Irish pub and ask around about Happy Jack O’Donnell.”
17
It was midnight Saturday night and Jack pretended to look at Laura over the top of his martini glass as he took a sip. In reality, he was looking at Goldie who had wandered out from the rear of the club and was talking to the bartender while aimlessly looking at customers. There he is. A man who laughs at the brutal slaughter of an innocent person. Can I pretend to befriend him and make it look genuine?
Laura caught a subtle change in Jack’s demeanor and said, “Is he back?”
“Behind you talking to Purvis at the bar,” said Jack, wryly. “Laughing about something. He’s definitely seen us but is keeping his distance. I’m going to order another martini at the bar and then invite him over.”
“Want me to play the bimbo role?”
“Not after your karate demonstration the other night. Pretend you’re smart and in the know.”
“Pretend? Hey, I take offence to that remark.”
Jack would have smiled, but the sight of Goldie laughing in the background made him think of a terrified man trying to escape through some darkened woods. Running and staggering with your hands tied behind your back. Barely able to see through a plastic bag. Unable to scream. Your breath cut short by tape. The sound of gunshots. Your body feeling the pain. Twisting and turning. More gunshots … falling. Goldie laughing … his diamond-studded tooth glimmering in the light …
“Jack? Did you hear me,” asked Laura.
“Yeah. Wait here. I’m going to tell him I want to talk to him at our table.”
A moment later, Goldie joined them and introduced himself as Arthur. Jack and Laura each introduced themselves by their first names.
“Is there a problem?” asked Goldie. “Something you wish to discuss with me?”
“No problem at all,” replied Jack, reaching for the gift bag beside his feet. “Quite the opposite, really. I wanted to apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you last night.”
Goldie accepted the gift bag with surprise. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of Tyrconnell single-malt Irish whiskey. “What inconvenience?” he exclaimed, casting a curious glance at Jack and Laura.
Jack smiled warmly at him and said, “You know, there are those who think the Irish blood is too watered down with Guinness. Let me tell you that is not so.” Jack winked and leaned back in his chair and finished the last of his martini.
“I don’t understand,” replied Goldie.
Jack smacked his lips, savouring the last swallow, before looking directly at Goldie and saying, “Many of the Irish have become police officers, but the Irish blood is thick and they are Irish first.” Jack paused as Goldie reflected upon what he said, before continuing, “Shall we just say that I have friends who keep me well informed on such matters. The intrusion in your life by Officer Wood last night did not go unnoticed and I wish to apologize to you for any inconvenience it may have caused.”
“I … I don’t know what to say,” said Goldie. “I mean, it’s not any of my business who the customers are or —”
Jack let out a hearty laugh and said, “Whatever you did say, I owe you a debt of gratitude. They actually think I have retired.” Jack turned to Laura and said, “Really, honey, do I look that old to you?”
“Certainly not,” replied Laura, frowning. “You don’t have a wrinkle on your body. At least, not one that stays a wrinkle for long,” she added with a wink.
“But this really isn’t necessary,” said Goldie, attempting to hand the bottle back.
“It is nothing, really,” replied Jack. “I would feel insulted if you did not accept. Besides, I was born in Canada. No Irish brogue and Irish whiskey for me. My taste is for gin and vermouth … and fresh olives. I’m a great disappointment to my dear old father, I am sure.”
“Well … thank you,” replied Goldie, setting the bottle down.
“You wouldn’t believe the scurrilous and absolute scandalous accusations the police have made about me and my comrades over the years,” said Jack. “Absolute nonsense, I can assure you. I am a businessman. That is all.”
“What type of business are you in?” asked Goldie. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. If it is too personal then —”
“No, I don’t mind at all,” replied Jack, leaning back from the table as Patty brought him a martini. “Here you go, Patty,” he said, tipping her another fifty-dollar bill. “Did I ever tell you I think you have a beautiful name?”
After Patty expressed her gratitude and left, Jack looked at Goldie and said, “I’m an entrepreneur. Investments here and there. Trying to eke out a living.”
Goldie smiled knowingly. “An entrepreneur,” he said. “I have several friends who are entrepreneurs.”
“Ah, alas, there is competition everywhere,” replied Jack, raising his glass for a toast. “May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.”
“And,” added Laura, “as you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point in the wrong direction.”
“I love it,” said Goldie. The diamond stud in his tooth reflected the light as he threw his head back and chortled.
Goldie’s action made Jack pause. I’d like to smash my fist into your face. See how funny you think that would be. He took a deep breath. Damn it, get a grip. Pretend to smile. He clinked glasses with Goldie and thought of another old Irish toast:
Drink is the curse of the land.
It makes you fight with your neighbour.
It makes you shoot at your neighbour.
It makes you miss.
Jack took a sip of his martini and put the glass back down on the table. Believe me, Goldie, you’re in my sights — I won’t miss.
18
It was two o’clock in the morning when Jack drove Laura home.
“I think it went well tonight,” said Laura. “Goldie was pretty friendly. Even bought us a round.”
“You’re right. No conversation to hint of anything illegal, but friendly. Monday is a stat holiday. Let’s take the next three days off. Wednesday morning the narcs have scheduled a meeting. We’ll wait until next Friday before going back to the club. See how Goldie acts toward us then.”
“You think he’s trying to check you out? Maybe with that Woo character that Wang was talking to?”
Jack nodded and said, “In the event something does go awry, I’ve got my fake ID made with O’Donnell ending in one L instead of two. If worse comes to worse, I can make it look like Rose made a mistake and thought I was the more notorious O’Donnell.”
“Let’s hope they don’t check you out beyond old newspaper clippings.”
“Oh, I don’t know, it could prove interesting,” replied Jack.
Laura saw a bemused look on Jack’s face. “Okay. What is it?” she asked. “I haven’t seen a genuine smile on your face all night until now.”
Jack cast a sideways glance at Laura and said, “I presumed Goldie might want to check me out — but think about it. They obviously don’t have any real connections in Montreal yet. It would be a little like going to Chicago and asking about Al Capone back in the 1930s.”
“So they might hear some bad stories to support your cover story?”
Jack smiled and said, “There is something I neglected to mention to Rose. The real Happy Jack is a bona fide sociopath, on top of which he hates being referred to as Happy Jack. It wasn’t the media who first named him that. It was a title his enemies bestowed upon him, inferring that he was always drunk. Rumour is he shot someone in the balls once for calling him that.”
“No kidding?”
“Guess he has issues. Hope whoever decides to ask about Happy Jack has life insurance.”
“Oh, man,” mumbled Laura. Here we go again.
On the morning of the following Wednesday, Jack, Laura, and CC were invited to attend a meeting with Drug Section. When they all arrived, Sammy told them that they were expecting to end their undercover heroin operation within the next two or three days.
“I thought things were going well for you with the targets who hang out at Wang’s restaurant?” said CC.
“They are,” replied Sammy. “We’re using different operators for the ecstasy and meth. We hope to run that one for another month, depending upon whether or not the money holds out.”
Sammy passed Jack a couple of surveillance pictures of a man with a ponytail and a black goatee. “This is Jojo. So far he is the biggest fish we’ve caught. Our operator is going to approach him Friday and see if we can buy a kilo. We can’t spend the cash, so if he goes for it, we’ll bust him and whoever else shows up.”
Both Jack and Laura examined the photos carefully.
“When on Friday?” asked Jack.
“We don’t want to give Jojo any time to dick around. The operator will approach him early in the evening. Part of the cover story is that he’s a truck driver and has to be on the road by midnight.”
“You think Jojo can come up with a kilo that fast?” asked Jack.
“He told the operator he could come up with it on two hours’ notice. I don’t think Jojo is bullshitting. Last time we ordered a quarter pound from him, he went to Goldie Locks, then met our guy at a McDonald’s half an hour later and did the deal.”
“Think it will be the same restaurant?” asked Jack.
“Have no idea. The operator is going to try and push him to meet his source. Don’t know how that will go, but either way, I’m going to plunk myself in a corner at Goldie Locks before Jojo gets there. If he shows up, I should be in a position to see who he meets. I’ll have my cell. If that person goes somewhere, we’ll tail him and see if he takes us to a stash.”
“What can we do to help?” asked Jack.
“You know a lot of the regulars. I’m hoping whoever he meets might be somebody you can put a name to. You know how these things go. Whoever he meets could end up chatting with someone else and so on. Anything you can do to help identify these pricks the better. If you need to tell me something, make eye contact and I’ll meet you in the can.”
“We’re not in a position to help with any arrests or if something goes wrong,” said Laura. “We’ve got our own thing going on in there.”
“Yeah, I know. All I’m asking is for you to be our eyes and ears. Leave any rough stuff to us.”
“So why did you call me to this meeting?” asked CC. “You’re talking dope. I’m homicide.”
“Jojo is currently serving triple probation.”
“Triple probation?” asked CC. “How the hell does he do that?”
Sammy grimaced and said, “Very easily, I’m afraid. Welcome to the world of drug trafficking in B.C. He was convicted three times in the last two years for trafficking. He received probation each time and the sentences are overlapping each other. The only thing hurting him is his sides from laughing so much. I’m hoping this time might be different. If we nail him with a kilo, he could be looking at doing federal time. If you want us to try and roll him, we’re willing to do so.”
“You’d let him walk?” asked CC.
“If
he can provide info on a homicide, sure. It’s your call.”
CC thought about it for a moment and shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but even if Jojo was somehow connected with Goldie and was able to give him to us, Goldie would serve less time than what Jojo is looking at. As I said before, his lawyer would put him on the stand and have him say he thought it was all a prank — that he didn’t really know what was going on.” CC slowly shook her head and looked at Sammy and said, “I don’t think it’s worth jeopardizing what you already have. In this case, it’s like having two birds in the hand and wanting to trade for one in the bush. Besides, would Jojo at his level be in with someone like Goldie? What do you think, Jack? Organized crime is your baby.”
Jack sighed and said, “Unfortunately, I agree with you completely. Goldie said he used his guys to grab the victim. He also said he told them it was a prank. Even if Jojo was one of those guys, it wouldn’t change anything as far as the courts go. Not to mention, whoever The Shaman and The Enabler are, they’re above Goldie and that makes them light years out of Jojo’s league.”
“Those two and the guy with dead eyes who wears a suit, as well,” added CC. She looked at Sammy and said, “Thanks for thinking about me, anyway. If something of interest comes up on the UC or wiretap involving Wang’s people, let me know.”
Once the meeting came to an end, CC asked Jack if she could talk to him in private for a moment.
They found a quiet spot in the hall to talk and Jack asked, “Any chance we could get a surreptitious warrant for Goldie’s home and businesses?”
“Not a chance with what we’ve got,” replied CC. “Better hope what you and Laura are doing will turn up something. That’s if it really was the same guy in the park that Goldie was talking about.”
“You still don’t think it is?”
