by Easton, Don
Later that afternoon, Jack called the surveillance off and returned to their office. Laura sent Connie the photos she had taken while Jack pulled out his laptop to study all the photos they had previously shown Gabriel and Noah.
Minutes later, Jack smiled and motioned for Laura to look at a particular picture. It was of a man with scraggly, long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and sporting a bushy beard. Laura took several moments to look at the picture of the van driver and compare it to the photo on Jack’s laptop.
“It is him,” she breathed. “He’s changed his appearance a lot. No wonder Gabriel and Noah couldn’t recognize him. It’s a definite match.”
“David Zacharias,” said Jack. “Goes by Zack. Long record for drugs and a close associate of Satans Wrath.”
Within the hour, Jack received a call from Connie.
“The bald guy is him!” said Connie excitedly. I showed Gabriel the photos. She said there is no doubt he is the guy who said his name was John. Can we ID him?”
“Already done,” said Jack. “Meet us at our office and we’ll fill you in.”
By the time Connie arrived, Jack had discovered that the young woman who owned the white van was actually Zack’s sister and was married to a drug trafficker who had a record for dealing in methamphetamines.
“I don’t want these guys for dope,” growled Connie. “I want them for murder. Varrick is due to appear for his trial in two weeks and my wire runs out in two days. What can we do?”
“Put a bug in the place we found today,” said Jack.
“The landlady handed them a key,” said Connie. “Means they haven’t even moved in yet.”
“All the more reason to get the bug in quick before they do,” said Jack. “I’m free to work tonight if you want teams to sit on Varrick and Zack to make sure you’re not caught.”
“You forgetting there’s a person living upstairs?”
“She’s old,” replied Jack. “Probably doesn’t hear well. Tell the team to go in with stocking feet.”
“Yeah, well, even if we do get the bug in, what chance do you think there is that they’ll actually talk about the murder? Especially in the limited time we have left.”
“Maybe by then we can prove they’re setting up a meth lab and can get a new wire for that,” suggested Laura.
“Do you know the work involved to do that?” replied Connie. “Besides, proving it’s a meth lab won’t take long. If we keep a new wire running in the hope of getting evidence on a murder when the wire is for dope, then defence will claim we were on a fishing expedition and have it tossed out of court.”
“Quit being so pessimistic,” said Jack. “Get the bug in. I don’t care if it is only for a couple of days. I think they will talk about the murder.”
“What are you?” she snorted. “One of these guys who says the glass is half full?”
“Naw,” replied Jack. “Who cares if it’s half full or half empty. It’s just beer. Slam it back.”
Laura caught a glint in Jack’s eye. She knew he had a plan.
The investigators were successful in placing listening devices in the basement suite late that night. Neither Varrick nor Zack returned or did anything of significance for another two days. It was nine o’clock at night before Varrick retraced his steps from Headstones and once more met with Zack at the strip mall before returning to the basement suite.
Connie stayed in the monitoring room to listen to the recorders. She had three hours before the wiretap would be disconnected. Jack and Laura were on surveillance and saw the men unloading boxes from the van. By the sound of glassware and a few comments she heard, Connie knew that they were setting up another meth lab.
“Jack,” she radioed. “One of ’em said it was the last of the boxes. Also a comment about having a few days to set it up before they get the juice.”
“Copy that,” replied Laura in his place. “They’re likely referring to the chemicals they need.”
“They could be leaving soon,” replied Connie. She waited a moment for a response, but there was nothing but silence. “This is it,” she lamented over the radio. “Tonight is our last chance. At midnight we have to pull the plug.” She waited for a reply, but didn’t get one. “Jack? You there?” she asked.
Laura answered and said, “Jack left. You should hear his fist pound on their door any second.”
As if on cue, Connie heard a loud thump over the recorder, followed by Zack’s nervous whisper to Varrick, “Who the fuck is that?”
Connie let out an involuntary gasp as her stomach constricted. Her lungs froze and her mouth unconsciously dropped open as she strained to listen.
Chapter Eight
Several anxious seconds ticked past and Connie stared at the silent recorder. Is it working? Moments later, the sound of footsteps told her that it was.
“Who is it?” came Varrick’s voice. “Who’s there?”
Dead silence was followed by the sound of Varrick slowly opening the door.
“There’s nobody here,” he said. “What the fuck! Look what’s hangin’ on the knob!”
“A gold fuckin’ cross?” responded Zack.
Connie heard the door knob rattle slightly before the door was closed again.
“There’s a piece of paper tied to it,” said Zack.
“A fuckin’ gold cross,” muttered Varrick, sounding bewildered.
“Someone’s yankin’ our chain over that dead priest!”
“His was real gold,” replied Varrick. “This is painted wood.”
“Who the fuck put it on the doorknob? Read the note.”
Connie heard a rustle of paper and Varrick said, “God knows what you did and is waiting …” Varrick started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” demanded Zack.
“Cocktail is fuckin’ with us.”
“You see him out there?”
“No, but who else could it be?” answered Varrick.
“I thought he wasn’t gonna show up until another couple of days,” replied Zack.
“Come on,” laughed Varrick. “There’s nobody else it could be. It’s him, fuckin’ with us.”
“Then why isn’t he comin’ in to laugh at us?”
“Probably will in a few minutes.”
“Cocktail, you fuckin’ bastard,” grumbled Zack. “Man, what a fuckin’ night that was,” he added.
“Your fault for breakin’ the glassware,” said Varrick.
“It was you who cracked the door open for fresh air,” replied Zack.
“I didn’t know a fuckin’ nosy priest would be outside listening,” answered Varrick.
“He wasn’t listening when we saw him. Too busy talking to God.”
Varrick chuckled, but his voice became serious when he added, “Good thing Cocktail came along.”
“I guess,” replied Zack. “He wasn’t laughin’ then. Fuckin’ near shit when we helped drag him in by the ankles.”
“He’s gotta be laughin’ at us. Come on, let’s go find him. We’re done here, anyway.”
Connie closed her eyes for a moment. Jack, you did it. Split this case wide open.
Jack answered his BlackBerry and listened to Connie’s excited and happy voice as she relayed what had transpired.
“Bad news,” said Jack. “I don’t know anyone with the nickname of Cocktail.”
“You don’t? Crap … well, I’m sure we will. Man … fantastic! Don’t worry. With what we got tonight I won’t have any problem getting the wire renewed. They said Cocktail is coming by in a couple of days. Jack, I’m so happy I could kiss your sweet little ass.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t think Natasha would,” said Jack, chuckling. “Also, it looks like we’ve got movement. Targets are leaving.”
“Maybe they’re going to meet with Cocktail,” suggested Connie.
“Maybe. Or someone will. The problem is what will they do when they find out it wasn’t Cocktail who hung the crucifix on their door?”
“Who cares?” replied
Connie. “With what we’ve got on wire, this case is basically solved. Especially if we can lay a conspiracy charge. All we need is to identify Cocktail. Maybe tonight we’ll do that, too.”
Surveillance continued. Varrick retrieved his truck and went to Zack’s apartment building where Zack parked and got in with Varrick before driving to Headstones.
“I don’t like this,” said Jack as he and Laura parked in their usual spot to watch.
“Maybe they’re chatting with Cocktail,” suggested Laura. “If we scoop the plates, we might identify him tonight. What’s the worry?”
“The bikers kept these guys on ice a long time before deciding to set up another lab. I think they were protecting someone. Maybe Cocktail.”
“So? Your point being?”
“If Cocktail is really valuable, they wouldn’t risk having him go to Headstones. With what happened, Satans Wrath could be looking at Varrick and Zack as loose ends.”
“Oh, man.”
“Exactly.”
Numerous vehicles came and went from Headstones. Jack and Laura snuck around on foot and identified several licence plates belonging to prospective members of Satans Wrath as well as numerous other criminals. None were associated with any name or occupation that would warrant the nickname of Cocktail.
It was four o’clock in the morning when the lights went out at Headstones. Varrick’s truck remained parked.
“Maybe Zack decided to spend the night,” said Laura hopefully.
“Above ground or below, is the question,” replied Jack.
It was ten o’clock the next morning when Jack’s question was answered. He arrived at work and saw a computer message saying that a Detective Wilson with the Vancouver Police Department had checked Varrick and Zack for criminal records earlier that morning.
Previously, Jack had entered Varrick and Zack on the Canadian Police Information Centre computer. The CPIC entry was done in a manner so that whoever checked the names would not know Jack was interested, but a message would be sent to Jack advising him of who checked the names. It would be up to Jack’s discretion as to whether to inquire further. He decided to call.
“Homicide, Wilson,” answered a gruff voice.
Jack identified himself, already knowing what he was about to hear. “I got a silent hit on CPIC,” he said. “You ran two names this morning.”
“Herman Varrick and David Zacharias,” said Wilson.
“Both murdered?”
“Yup, I think it was murder,” replied Wilson. “Both found dead in an alley off of East Hastings about two hours ago. Time of death was about six hours earlier.”
“Shot?”
“Nope. Looks like heroin overdoses. A needle was still in Varrick’s hand. The thing is, neither had any tracks. Needles wasn’t their thing. You got something that can help us, one way or the other?”
Jack sighed. Do I tell them that it was me who got them killed? “Um, in my opinion it was not accidental,” replied Jack.
“Can you elaborate a little? Christ, if you’re right, we’re talking a double homicide here. Shit-rats or not, this landed on my desk. I want to solve it.”
“They were associated with Satans Wrath —”
“Shit,” said Wilson.
“And were in the process of setting up a meth lab,” continued Jack. “I think the bikers may have clued in that we were on to them.”
“So Satans Wrath severed the connection to protect themselves. Typical.”
“You got it. Varrick and Zack are … were of interest to I-HIT for another murder. I’ll get Connie Crane to call you and fill you in. She’s the lead investigator.”
Jack barely hung up the phone when it rang. It was Connie.
“Hey, Jack. Good going last night. How late did you sit on them?”
“The lights went out at Headstones at four this morning.”
“Zack stayed over too, did he?” noted Connie.
“His lights went out permanently around two. Same for Varrick.”
“This is all great,” said Connie, still filled with enthusiasm and not really listening. “I already spoke with PPSC. We’ll get an extension on our wire.”
“Connie, listen to me. I’ve got some bad news. Forget using Varrick and Zack to find Cocktail. We’ve hit a dead end as far as they’re concerned.”
“What are you talking about?”
“VPD found Varrick and Zack dead in an alley at eight o’clock this morning. Set up to look like heroin overdoses. They probably took them out of Headstones through the garage.”
“Oh, God, no …” Connie felt the depression settle over her like a lead blanket. My only leads to Cocktail are dead. Her mind felt numb as Jack told her about his conversation with Wilson. She twiddled her crucifix around and around with her thumb and forefinger as Jack spoke. Eventually the chain tightened around her neck and cut into the skin before she stopped.
“Are you listening?” asked Jack, moments after he quit speaking.
“Yeah, I heard you,” muttered Connie. “I was afraid this would happen.”
“You guessed that the bikers would kill them?” asked Jack.
“No. I knew when I called you into this case that I would end up with more bodies than I started with.”
“You haven’t. Varrick and Zack are VPD’s worry.”
“You tryin’ to be funny?”
“No, simply reminding you.”
“Of what?”
“To stay focused. Our primary objective is to find and identify Cocktail. Forget about Varrick and Zack now.”
“Yeah, but our evidence from last night’s wire is useless. Where do we go from here? And who is Cocktail? One of Satans Wrath?”
“I’ve never heard of him. I ran his name through the system. Nothing matched.”
“Varrick and Zack … you, uh, being straight with me on this?” asked Connie suspiciously.
“Hell, yes! I had no idea when I hung the crucifix on their door that it would get them killed. I figured the two of them were responsible for the murder. I was hoping to get them talking. I didn’t know they’d go looking for Cocktail.”
“Well obviously they did and he killed them, too.”
“I doubt that Cocktail killed them. I think Satans Wrath did it to sever the connection and protect Cocktail. He has to be a major player to have the bikers jumping through hoops for him.”
Connie’s sigh was audible.
“Sorry, Connie,” said Jack. “It was my fault. Last night I thought it was a good idea.”
“Yeah, well … shit happens. I’m not blaming you. If you hadn’t done it, we would be nowhere. At least we know who we’re after.”
“We’ll find out Cocktail’s real name,” said Jack, determinedly.
“That would be a start. Then we have to prove it. If he, or Satans Wrath, are jittery enough to whack Varrick and Zack, they’re not about to be giving us any proof. I’ll liaise with City and search their rooms where they were staying.”
“You’re dealing with Satans Wrath,” said Jack. “The rooms will have been cleaned out.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
After a moment of silence, Jack said, “How about we set up a meeting with the Organized Crime Task Force and go over everything. Laura called them and they said they have a report that puts Zack at a house party a few months ago. Mostly kids, from what I gather. It doesn’t seem significant, but let’s see what else OCTF has and find out who else was at the party.”
“Police work, all peaks and valleys,” mumbled Connie. “Riding high one moment and crashing the next.”
“We’ll solve this. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”
“Don’t worry? You tell me you’ll think of something and then say don’t worry! Last night you thought of something and we ended up with two extra bodies.”
“A consequence I didn’t predict. Who would have guessed? You didn’t.”
“Yeah, well, maybe this time it was accidental,” conceded Connie.
“What do you
mean, this time?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Don’t push me.”
“Forget about Varrick and Zack. Stay focused on what to do next.”
“A double homicide and you say forget about them!”
“There is another person who could die yet. Worry about that one.”
“Another! Jack, what did I just say!”
“Faith.”
“Faith? In you? Listen you —”
“No, Faith! Gabriel’s four-year-old daughter. Will she die next?” Jack added harshly.
The mention of Faith shocked Connie and she was temporarily at a loss for words. After a moment, she heard Jack vow that they would identify Cocktail. She heard herself agree to attend the meeting with the OCTF and hung up.
Connie reflected on the cold tone of Jack’s voice when he spoke of Faith. If … when we identify Cocktail … then what? As of last night I thought I was working on three bad guys … with Jack on the case, two are already dead …
Chapter Nine
On Friday morning a meeting was held with Jack, Laura, Connie, and Dan Mylo from OCTF, in Jack’s office.
Dan outlined the gang wars in the lower mainland. “Province-wide,” he said, “we’ve identified 118 gangs. The Brotherhood was an amalgamation of what used to be a dozen independent gangs. The gangs grew larger, some incorporated with each other, and the amalgamation split when turf issues developed. Basically, The Brotherhood is currently divided into two factions, with an estimated three or four bosses on each side controlling their gangs.”
“No one guy has stepped up to take complete control, then?” asked Connie.
“Don’t think it’s that easy,” replied Dan, glancing at Jack. “I think a certain degree of political backing is required.”
Jack nodded in agreement and said, “The potential leaders are being watched and perhaps loosely guided by Satans Wrath. Although the leaders are adults in their twenties and thirties, the bulk of the membership are teenagers who were previously part of the independent youth gangs. They are violent, young, lack common sense, and have a total disregard for human life. They don’t care who might get in the way as is evidenced by all the drive-by shootings.”
