Jack Taggart Mysteries 7-Book Bundle

by Easton, Don

  “A bit of a spat?”

  “Nothing came of it. As I recall, Pike apologized. It was Christmas time. People were drinking and having fun.”

  “Is there anybody else you can remember? Any other names?”

  “Sorry, no. Oskar, Virgil, and Pike the Spike was it.”

  “Pike the Spike?”

  “Oh, that was just a nickname I made up because Paul told me they were trained killers. Black-belt types. Nobody else called him that.”

  “You said they were trained killers. Who was they?”

  “Oh, right, there was somebody else. I don’t think I met the other guy. I remember Pike was built like a gorilla. Even walked like one. He was with some other guy who was bigger, or at least taller.”

  “Can you remember anything at all about how the bigger guy looked?”

  “Not really. Sorry, it’s been too long. I do remember he had a nickname, but I can’t remember what it was. Something to do with the way he walked. He bounced off of each step like a kangaroo or something. I joked with Paul about them. Calling them Pike the Spike and Captain Kangaroo.”

  “Captain Kangaroo?”

  “I think so. No, wait. That wasn’t it.” Tom thought a moment and said, “Killer Kangaroo … no, hang on …” Tom’s face lit up. “It was Rabbit. The other guy’s nickname was Rabbit because of how he walked. I joked with Paul and referred to them as Pike the Spike and Killer Rabbit.”

  After thanking Tom for his assistance, Jack went to a convenience store and found an exact duplicate of the map booklet that Virgil was using.

  One hour later, Jack arrived home and found Natasha sitting on the sofa reading Dr. Seuss to Mike and Steve. She paused as Jack leaned over to kiss her.

  “Long day at the office,” noted Natasha, as Jack gave each boy a kiss and a hug.

  “You could say that. One of those days where I wished I was the one staying home and not working.”

  “It’s not exactly a complete holiday.” Natasha frowned. “Besides looking after these two, did you notice I weeded the flower beds? Not to mention laundry and cleaning house?”

  “The flower beds, too? Guess I was too tired to notice. That was something we didn’t have to do when we lived in a condo.”

  “Well it needs to be done now. Not to mention the perks I’ve had over the last few years of changing dirty diapers, making dinners, and running to the store. Guess it is all part of the advantages I get for being home.”

  Jack glanced at Natasha and realized how much his comment had irritated her. “Sorry about the not-working comment. Sometimes I don’t think I appreciate how much you do.”

  She shrugged in response.

  “Do you wish you were back at work, looking after your patients at the clinic?”

  “No, having a home and family is always what I wanted. I’ll get back to work when the boys are older.”

  Jack nodded in response.

  “But I was envisioning having a family where the husband was around, too,” continued Natasha.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” she sighed. “But don’t give me any nonsense about how you wish you were the one staying home. Besides, I don’t think you’d have the energy to keep up with these guys.” She tickled Mikey’s stomach and watched him laugh and squirm away.

  “Right now I don’t,” admitted Jack, “but I want you to know that I really love you.”

  “Oh, I think I know that,” replied Natasha. “You reminded me last week at the house party.”

  “I did?” replied Jack, so tired that he could hardly remember when a neighbour invited several couples in to get to know each other. It seemed like a long time ago. As he recalled, everyone was friendly but he found the conversation less than stimulating.

  “Don’t you remember what you shouted to me across the room?”

  Jack smiled. “I love you, Natasha Taggart!”

  “You made me blush.”

  Jack grinned. “Well, you must not have been too embarrassed, you shouted back that you loved me, too.”

  “I think people looked at us like we were a little daft.”

  “They don’t know what we’ve been through together. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t appreciate what we have as a family.”

  “Then you drank too much and told the one guy you were an airline pilot and had to go to work in a couple of hours. He was really upset. Then you told someone else the same thing, except that you were a neurosurgeon.”

  “I thought the party need livening up. It gave them all something to talk about later.”

  Natasha shook her head and muttered, “I can dress you up, but I can’t take you out. I could only imagine what trouble you would have gotten into if I hadn’t decided to take you home.”

  Jack smiled. “You’re probably right. And don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I’d be lost without you.”

  “Are you lost now?” asked Natasha.

  “What?” responded Jack. “Oh, this,” he said, realizing that Natasha was referring to the booklet of maps he had purchased. “No, it’s to help me catch a bad guy.”

  “You out with some bad guys today?” asked Mikey.

  “Yes, but that’s a secret.”

  “Ya, undercover,” he said, putting his finger to his lips. “Shhhh.”

  “And how is Stevey T?” asked Jack, making a claw with his hand and pretending he was going to grab Steve’s stomach.

  Steve giggled and cuddled in closer with his mom for protection.

  “Don’t get him started again,” said Natasha. “He’s been running around here all day wearing an old satchel bag on his head. He thinks it is the funniest thing.”

  “Seems kind of funny to me, too,” said Jack.

  “You catch any sleep last night at all?” asked Natasha.

  “None, which is what I am going to do right now.”

  Jack said good night and kissed everyone again before taking a shower and collapsing into bed. He had been up for thirty-two hours straight and expected to fall asleep immediately, but his mind wasn’t ready to let him off the hook that easy.

  He heard Mike and Steve charging around the living room. Mike would yell out, “Batman!” which would then be reiterated by Steve.

  Natasha tried to get them to lower their voices. He felt bad. It’s only the middle of the afternoon. They’re boys … they should be allowed to play.

  His thoughts drifted to Amanda and Megan and the guilt he felt when he met them face-to-face. More guilt soaked through his brain when he thought of the picture that Dyck had rammed into his face, showing Amanda shortly after being attacked.

  He picked up the map booklet from off the bedside table and skipped through it, looking at the pages where the page numbers had been crossed off, but realized he was too tired to concentrate.

  He thought of a man with his throat slashed being found by his family at Christmas time. What Tom told me helps verify that Virgil was telling the truth …but having an informant who is a serial rapist ... I don’t know if I can handle it.

  Maybe they’ll catch him with the knife … he thought, before drifting off to sleep.

  Virgil waited in the ferry cafeteria until the ferry was midway to Victoria, before returning to the car-deck. He did not see anyone following him, but was still cautious as he went to the trunk of his car on the pretence of getting a jacket, which he folded over his arm. He then wandered over to a portal on the car-deck and leaned out, as if enjoying the view.

  He knew he had panicked when he was first caught and went over things again. Turning me over to the Americans … fuck, I would really go to jail. Still, telling them about the rape … I should have kept my mouth shut … but did I really have a choice?

  Virgil’s jaw set in rigid determination.

  One thing is for certain … the panic is over.

  Nobody saw him drop the jungle knife, wrapped in a ski mask, into the ocean, where it immediately sank from sight.

  Virgil stared into the da
rk waters and breathed a sigh of relief. You really think I didn’t know the real reason you gave me the knife back? I’m not a stupid man, Mister Taggart. All you have accomplished is to make me change my … what do you cops call it? My modus operandi.

  As Virgil walked back up the stairs to the cafeteria, he gave an evil grin as he fantasized. Ah, my lovely … it is Mister Taggart’s fault that you must die …

  Chapter Twelve

  On Friday, Jack arrived at his office at eight o’clock in the morning. Laura was already in, as was Rose, so they sat in Rose’s office while Jack outlined what he had learned.

  “Paul Jennings’s death may have been an accident,” noted Rose. “Perhaps your informant knew about it and decided to weave it into a scam to deceive us.”

  “Possible,” admitted Jack, “but it is interesting that Tom Donald also thinks Oskar is dirty.”

  “I don’t think the opinion of some guy in the music industry will cut much weight with Inspector Dyck this afternoon.”

  “It doesn’t discredit what we were told, either,” observed Laura.

  “And these other guys … Pike the Spike and Killer Rabbit. What’s their story?” asked Rose.

  “Nothing on Ben Pike yet,” replied Jack. “I’ll make more inquiries to see if anyone can come up with someone who goes by the nickname of Rabbit.” He gave a small, half-grin and added, “Will probably end up with a lot of Bunnies and no Rabbit.”

  “Bunnies?” asked Rose.

  “A lot of hookers and strippers use the name Bunny,” said Jack.

  “We’re looking for a guy, not a woman,” said Rose.

  “You’re being sexist. There are a lot of male prostitutes, not to mention transvestites and —”

  “Okay, okay,” said Rose. “I believe you,” she said, putting her hands up for him to stop. “But tell me, is your knowledge of male prostitution and transvestites something you discovered in your off-hours?” she added with a grin.

  Jack felt relieved that Rose was joking with him. It made him feel less stressed about the choice he had made to protect the informant. He knew Rose would support him in the meeting with Dyck. But then what? We’ll end up going to the assistant commissioner… and what will he decide?

  “Now, about the rapist,” said Rose. “Inspector Dyck seems convinced he will strike again. What are your thoughts on that?”

  “I agree with Dyck,” said Jack, gravely. “I think he will cool it for a month or two and start again.”

  “And you’re hoping MCU will catch him on their own before then?”

  “That would be nice.”

  “And if they don’t? After what he told you, he’s liable to change his MO to hide the fact that it’s him.”

  “I know. I’ve thought of that,” replied Jack calmly.

  “What else have you thought of?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you. You’re not upset. Means you have a plan. What is it?”

  “Well … hang on, my phone.” He glanced at the number. “It’s our new friend.”

  “No friend of mine,” Laura muttered.

  “Sorry man, it’s only eight-thirty. Too early to call ya?” asked Virgil.

  “I told you before,” replied Jack. “It’s never too early or too late. What do you have?”

  “Remember when I told you Oskar said they were going to do three more before Christmas and that he would then sell his company and retire?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’ve already got one of the chumps lined up. In fact, he might already be dead. I couldn’t get his name, but he’s an American from Seattle.”

  “Is he in Seattle now?”

  “No, that’s why I’m calling you. Last week they sent him to Moscow. Oskar bitched that he should have only got him a one-way ticket, but said he had to make it look good.”

  “Isn’t there anything else you can tell me about the guy? What reason did they use to send him to Russia? Did he go alone? Does he have a car? Maybe one left at the airport? Anything?”

  “My brother was giving me the hairy eyeball for asking what I did. If I push him any further, he’ll clue in that something’s not right and clam up.”

  Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

  “He did tell me he is going to recruit another person around the time of the Swiftsure Yacht Race. He’s looking for somebody from the Victoria area.”

  “That starts the end of this month. You said three more. If the guy in Russia is one and someone from Victoria is another one, where is the third victim going to be from?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he hasn’t decided yet. I don’t think he wants the chumps to be from the same area. Might get people talking.”

  “How does Oskar hire them? Newspaper ads?”

  “No. He uses head-hunter agencies. He looks for professional-type people. Someone with credentials ’cause they do legit work, as well. Whoever he picks has to be able to fit in with the white-collar crowd.”

  “And the next guy he is hiring is at the end of the month?”

  “Yup. Here in Victoria. Oskar mentioned he has some investors coming in for Swiftsure. He wants to see how whoever he is thinking of hiring fits in with them.”

  “Does he have any paperwork or stuff lying around that you could see? Names of people, phone numbers, anything?”

  “He carries a brief case around. Maybe I could look in it, but if I get caught we’re finished.”

  Jack thought about it. If he ordered Virgil to do something and he got caught, it would be Jack’s fault. Virgil would be off the hook and the murder investigation would be compromised because Oskar would be suspicious as to why Virgil was snooping.

  “You hear me?” asked Virgil.

  “I heard you. Forget about the briefcase. Getting more information on the fellow in Russia is a priority, but you are not to do or say anything if it could possibly compromise the investigation.”

  There was a pause and eventually Virgil said, “Okay.”

  Jack had the distinct impression from the tone that Virgil was disappointed and felt glad he had told him to leave the briefcase alone. “Are there any problems with you staying and partying with him?”

  “No, it wouldn’t be unusual for me to hang out with him for a couple of days,” replied Virgil.

  “Do it. If you can, I would like to know what qualities he is looking for in the people he hires.”

  “I can find that out, but you might want to tell some of your people to back off me a bit. There was some stupid bitch with a silver bracelet hanging around the dock quite a bit. Oskar didn’t notice yet, but he soon will if she shows up again.”

  Jack smiled to himself and felt relieved that Virgil was paranoid. “Special ‘O’ is so secret I don’t even know who most of them are. Older people, younger people. Male and female. They know what they’re doing, so forget about them. Act like they’re not even there. You’ll appear more natural that way.”

  Virgil glanced suspiciously at an older couple walking past. Act like they’re not even there! He gripped the phone harder in anger. You have no idea what I will do when they’re not …

  After Jack hung up, he relayed what he had been told to Rose and Laura.

  “The force doesn’t even have a liaison officer in Russia,” said Rose. “I’m not sure of the procedure. I’ll have to contact Ottawa and see if anything can be done.” She looked at her watch and muttered, “And it’s lunchtime in Ottawa.”

  “You try your route,” said Jack, “and I’ll try another angle.”

  “You have a contact in Russia?” asked Rose.

  “No, but I have one in Cuba who does,” said Jack.

  “What is this about Special ‘O’?” asked Rose.

  “We lied and told him there was a surveillance team on him,” said Jack, “to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

  “How long do you think that ruse will work?” asked Rose. “Eventually he will clue in.”

  “We’ll deal with it then. For now
, I’m biding time until we can nail Oskar and whoever he takes his orders from.”

  Back at his own desk, Jack dug out one of his old notebooks. He and Laura had worked on a human smuggling case a few years earlier and had gone to Cuba. He had befriended a Cuban Intelligence officer who he knew was well connected with Russian authorities. Eventually he found the notation: Donato Castillo — Seguridad de Estado (Security of the State).

  Donato was delighted that Jack had called him and after a quick social visit, Jack told him they were investigating people being murdered for insurance money and explained that one potential victim was in Russia.

  “It is almost eight o’clock Friday night in Russia,” said Donato.

  “Eleven hours ahead of Vancouver,” noted Jack.

  “Okay … I understand the urgency. Under the circumstances, I think it best that I have someone from Russia call you. There is no need to waste time by using me as a middle man.”

  “You know someone there who speaks English and is a good cop?” asked Jack.

  “The speaking-English part is easy. As far as the rest goes … well, it is Friday night. Stay by your phone. I will do my best my friend. Either I will call you back, or someone probably smelling of vodka will.”

  A full hour ticked past before Jack got his call. A man who spoke with a heavy Russian accent identified himself as Detective Max Romanov.

  Jack gave him a brief outline of the details and said, “I am sorry. Perhaps it’s ridiculous to think you can track down someone we only know as an American from Seattle, but I thought I should give it a try.”

  “No so hard, comrade,” replied Romanov. “No so hard. I talk customs and passport control. This place, Seattle, is it big like New York?”

  “No, much smaller. Around six hundred thousand people.”

  “Six hundred people? That will be easy.”

  “No six hundred thousand.”

  “Six hundred and a thousand. What is thousand?”

  “No … uh, think of it as less than a million.”

  “Okay. Million I know. No too many Americans from Seattle who come Moscow. They say cold war over … but American in Russia … well, that is still important. If he work, he need permit. I find him.”