Subverting Justice

by Don Easton

  “Get one thing clear. You didn’t save any of our guys. Maybe a prospect, but nobody important. As far as the narcs go, they were bound to clue in when nobody went to the stash. I had a hard time convincin’ someone to pay you what I did.”

  “Would the person who needed convincing be Purvis Evans?”

  “Yeah, but if you’re thinking of talking to him, forget it,” Whiskey Jake said adamantly.

  “What would he pay if I saved him from going to jail … along with all of your three-threes and Buck Zabat?”

  “What the fuck you talkin’ about?” Whiskey Jake’s words drew the gazes of other customers. “Gimme a sec,” he said, then walked outside.

  “Thought that might catch your attention,” Rat Cop said.

  “What’ve you heard?” Whiskey Jake asked.

  “There’s a woman — Vicki Zabat.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s making a deal with I-HIT and is going to testify.”

  “About what?”

  “To start with, she was the one who set Damien up by calling Basil Westmount and pretending to be from her own lawyer’s office.”

  I know, Buck told me. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “The hell you aren’t. Anyway, she broke under interrogation. For immunity against what she did, she’s going to testify that she was home when Buck spoke to Damien. She said Buck later told her he was wearing a wire so that the three-three could listen.”

  He told her about the wire? Fuckin’ idiot didn’t tell us that!

  “Vicki said Damien told Buck that he ratted about the boatload of cocaine in France and right after that Buck brought in four guys from the three-three and she watched as they took him away.”

  “You’re saying she knows the three-three?” Whiskey Jake was surprised.

  “Don’t know if she knew them or not, but she picked four guys out of the mugshots. They were Floyd Hackman, Vic Trapp, Pasquale Bazzoli, and Nick Crowe.”

  Shit!

  “I’m told the case is circumstantial because they can’t find Damien’s body, but with Vicki’s testimony there’s a good chance of conviction. She’ll testify that Buck told her he shot his dad under Purvis Evans’s order. Coupled with Purvis Evans taunting Taggart on Damien’s phone and the message left on the wall of the triple murder at the farmhouse — imagine what a jury will think. Gangsterism charges will be laid, too.”

  That fucking whore! She’s dead!

  “So what do you think?” Rat Cop prodded.

  “I’ll need to get back to you,” Whiskey Jake replied.

  “What I told you has gotta be worth a lot. I’m really sticking my neck out.”

  “Any idea when the arrests will take place?”

  “At the moment the prosecution is drawing up some documents for whatever lawyer Vicki has to guarantee her immunity. I heard the lawyers are supposed to meet a week from tomorrow to finalize the deal. That’d be Friday, November 7. I’m guessing the arrests will happen shortly after.”

  “November 7,” Whiskey Jake repeated.

  “Yeah. Mortimer also suggested that I-HIT could offer immunity and entry into Witness Protection for someone in the three-three if need be, but it doesn’t sound like the prosecution will need it.”

  “Is Vicki being protected?”

  “Not at the moment. She will be after the documentation is agreed on and signed.”

  “I gotta go,” Whiskey Jake said. “Call me later.”

  “Later? When?”

  “You’ll know when.”

  “How much will I get paid for —”

  “I dunno. We’ll talk … after.”

  Jack ended the call and looked at Laura, who repositioned herself in the passenger seat. She solemnly stared out the window. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  Her face snapped toward him. “I told you before that I’d go along with it!”

  “Then why are you angry with me?”

  Laura made a face. “It’s not you per se. It’s life. It’s Mortimer. It’s Vicki for killing the man who loved her. It’s Pure E for having the audacity to threaten our families.”

  “My family,” Jack corrected.

  “Your family is my family,” Laura retorted. “We’re cops. We’re all family.”

  Jack nodded.

  “We shouldn’t have to work like this. It’s not how things are supposed to be. You and I being judge and jury … it’s not right.”

  “I agree, but what choice do we have, other than giving Satans Wrath free rein to do whatever they like?”

  “And that’s why I’m angry! I feel like we’ve been backed into a corner with no way out and I hate it.”

  “Me, I’ve found a way out. If you don’t want to take the route I’m taking, walk away. I sure as hell wouldn’t blame you. In fact, I’d probably respect you more for making an intelligent decision.”

  Laura scowled. “You know I’d never do that. We’re partners.”

  “I know. I was trying to manipulate your thoughts by sounding like I was giving you a choice. That way you wouldn’t be angry with me.”

  Laura folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead. “You’re an asshole.”

  Jack snorted. “Talk about stating the obvious.” He saw a fleeting smile, then she frowned, perhaps because she’d smiled when she didn’t want to.

  When Laura continued, her tone was calmer and more matter-of-fact. “What’s obvious is that Vicki is going to get whacked. Are you sure it won’t be tonight?”

  “I’m sure. We’ll know more once our friend calls, but Satans Wrath isn’t stupid enough to act on it without careful planning. I’ve given them a week. I think they’ll use all the time they have before making their move.”

  Laura nodded. “So what do we do now?”

  “The hardest part of the job. We wait and try to avoid the ants.”

  “Ants?” Laura questioned.

  “Automatic negative thoughts.”

  “Where your brain torments you with every imaginable thing that can go wrong.”

  Jack nodded. Yeah … and when it comes to murder, there are a lot of ants.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jack was watching the nightly news on the television with Natasha when he received a call from Lance.

  “You sure know how to stir up a hornet’s nest,” Lance said as soon as Jack answered.

  “Thought it might catch Pure E’s attention,” Jack replied. “When, where, and how?”

  “I’ll tell you about when. Pure E’s concerned it could be a trap.”

  “So he doesn’t trust Rat Cop completely.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he’s only being cautious. He ordered surveillance on Vicki for the next several days to see if she’s being protected. He also wants the boys to check her car and look for any trackers.”

  “They won’t find any,” Jack stated. “Floyd Hackman and Buck Zabat are both three-three and in your chapter. I presume you’ll be the one passing on orders to them?”

  “No. Before I got to the meeting, Whiskey Jake and Pure E were already there. The other guys in the three-three — Crowe, Trapp, and Bazzoli — are in Whiskey Jake’s chapter. He’d already volunteered to oversee it.”

  “Damn it.”

  “No choice for me on that. WJ’s head’s too far up Pure E’s ass. That decision was made before I arrived. However, because Buck’s in my crew, I should be able to find out some details right after it’s done. I’ll tell Hackman to report to me to see how he handled it.”

  “After” is not what I wanted to hear. “Okay, tell me what else you know.”

  “Whiskey Jake will meet all of the three-three and debrief them. Usually he’d only pass the order on to Trapp, but this is heavy. There can’t be any mistakes.”

  “At Stanley Park?
Near that concession stand you told me about?”

  “Yup, likely in the next two days. Probably late morning or afternoon. Whiskey Jake likes his nights free to hang out with Pure E and isn’t one for getting up early.”

  “He might not pass the order on for two days? I gave them a deadline of a week tomorrow. That’s not a lot of time to waste by sitting —”

  “Some action is being taken right away,” Lance interrupted. “Pure E said to put our surveillance team on Vicki to check for heat before bringing in the three-three. That’ll include checking her vehicle for any trackers, as well as scanning the sky to check for aircraft surveillance. Pure E wants to ensure it isn’t some kind of trap.”

  “There won’t be any heat on her.”

  “If they don’t spot any heat, then Whiskey Jake will meet with the three-three at the park to give them their orders. The three-three will then get involved with the surveillance and do periodic counter-surveillance with each other to ensure they’re clean, as well. If you try to follow any of them with a regular four- or five-car team, you’ll be spotted.”

  Four- or five-car team? We’d need forty. Instead I’ve only got Laura.

  “When it comes to the day of the hit, the three-three will meet at the park again. At that time they’ll go over their plan with Whiskey Jake. If he approves it, then they’ll head out and do their thing.”

  “What about Vicki? Will she be watched the whole time?”

  “Yup. The surveillance team will monitor her from the beginning. Once Whiskey Jake authorizes the plan, the three-three will tell the surveillance team to break off and they’ll take over.”

  “Pure E put out the bullshit story that Damien skipped the country to avoid his charges. Won’t the surveillance team clue in when Vicki disappears? Especially knowing that the three-three’s involved?”

  “No, the three-three is sort of like our Black Ops. They do more than hits.”

  “Such as?”

  “Things like helping hide guys who are wanted in other countries.”

  “I see.”

  “The regular surveillance team will be told their job is to ensure Vicki isn’t being watched so she can be smuggled out of the country. They’ll also be told she isn’t to know about it in case she gets the urge to tell her sister or someone.”

  “I doubt she’ll be checking her rear-view mirror. No reason to.”

  “Even if she does, our guys know their stuff. They’ve had a lot of practice following our competition. On the day of the hit, the three-three will all have new vehicles that they know are clean from any bugs or trackers. At that time they’ll meet at the park to go over the final details with Whiskey Jake. When they do, there’ll be prospects guarding the parking lot. Then when they leave, they’ll drive through areas with busy commercial airline flight paths to get rid of any possible air surveillance.”

  “Their phones?” Jack asked, more for confirmation than anything else, for the reply was what he expected.

  “All their regular phones will be shut off so they can’t be traced through GPS. They’ll use disposable phones to communicate with each other. Once the hit is done those are tossed, too.”

  “They’re thorough,” Jack commented.

  “That’s their job.”

  “And you’ve got no idea what they do with the body?”

  “No, that info is known only to them.”

  “I presume Pure E will get Buck to do the hit?”

  “That didn’t come up in conversation, but he capped his old man without regret, so I doubt it’ll bother him. Pure E is also pissed off at him for telling his mom he was wearing a wire when he talked to Damien. Guess it’s possible he could be ordered to do it.”

  “Only possible?”

  “Buck’s kind of proved himself already, so I’m not sure if Pure E will get him to do Vicki. I suspect that decision will be left up to Buck and the rest of the three-three.”

  “Okay. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, your fee. Pure E told Whiskey Jake that if you’re being straight and nobody is watching Vicki, then you’re to be paid ten grand.”

  “Glad I’m appreciated,” Jack said.

  “You gonna pay down your mortgage?”

  “I’ll give it to charity.”

  “Yeah, like maybe a home for unwed fathers.”

  “Glad to hear you’re not gender-biased,” Jack said, then hung up.

  Jack called Laura. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

  “No, I’m in bed, but awake. You hear from our friend?”

  “Yes.” Jack gave her the details of Lance’s call.

  “So what comes next?” she asked.

  “I think Stanley Park is the weakest link when it comes to the three-three,” Jack replied. I want to set up surveillance there and verify what we’ve been told. On the day of the hit, we’ll need to see what vehicles they’re using.”

  “From what you said, we’d never be able to follow them,” Laura noted.

  “Not in Vancouver, but what about out on the highway?”

  “Highway?”

  “They were out on Sumas Mountain when I called Damien to warn him.”

  “And Pure E answered,” Laura said.

  “Exactly. I don’t see them taking Damien all the way out there, killing him, then bringing his body back into the city to dispose of.”

  “I-HIT searched Sumas Mountain. At least, as best they could.”

  “All along Taggart Road, but there are other roads up there.”

  “Maybe it’s not even up there.”

  “Maybe, but even if we get an inkling where it is, it might help. I want to identify the vehicles the three-three will be using the day of the hit, then head out on the Trans-Canada ahead of them and wait.”

  “While they’re doing all their heat checks in Vancouver,” Laura said musingly. “They’ll think they’re already clean before they get to us.”

  “Hopefully. Let’s set up in Stanley Park by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. It’ll be good to see how they operate and what they’re driving. If they switch vehicles later we’ll know they’re about to do the hit.”

  “These guys have been around. Even if we do spot them on the highway, they’re going to be difficult to follow. We should have individual surveillance teams on every one of them.”

  “I know, but there’s no way to do that without Mortimer finding out. Not to mention, this isn’t the sort of thing you’d want anyone else involved in.”

  “You mean conspiracy to commit murder?”

  “Gee, do you really think they’ll hurt her? I was thinking they’d only give her a severe reprimand.”

  “Save that one for our judge or jury,” Laura said dryly.

  “Which is why we can’t involve anyone else,” Jack said.

  Laura’s sigh was audible over the phone.

  Yeah, I’m not happy about it, either. “The bikers usually park in a lot north of the concession stand. I’ll pick you up at 7:15 a.m. I want you in and out of the office before anyone comes in. You grab a surveillance van and I’ll meet you at the park. I’ll dress as a homeless guy and tuck myself into the bush near the concession stand while you set up on the parking lot. If they park elsewhere I’ll see them when they arrive at the concession stand. Between us, we should be able to see what they’re driving when they leave.”

  “You going to arrive pushing a shopping cart and drinking from a brown paper bag?”

  Jack chuckled. “No wine. With these guys, we’ll need to be on our toes.”

  Laura was silent for a moment, then said, “Okay, whatever.”

  By her tone Jack knew she was troubled. “Something wrong?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Are you there?”

  At last Laura said, “Burning Vicki reminds me of how we burned the Barlows. For them it turned out to
be more than a figure of speech. Vicki is evil, but I still hope she doesn’t die like that. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  Jack’s mind flashed back to the grotesque scene at the farmhouse. He could still smell the burned flesh. He swallowed, then replied, “Me neither — which is why Pure E needs to go.”

  “He needs to go to hell,” Laura stated. “Hope you and I don’t meet him there.” With that, she hung up.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “It’s only 6:00 a.m.,” Natasha complained.

  “Sorry, hon, didn’t mean to wake you.” Jack was digging through a dresser drawer in search of the green woollen skullcap he’d once purchased at a military-surplus store. He was already wearing three shirts and the shabby jeans he kept for doing yardwork.

  Natasha sat up in bed. “Not shaving all week, especially after being so clean-shaven, made you look kind of sexy — but this? Can I only hope you’re dressing as a hobo today because it’s Halloween?”

  “Actually I’m going dressed as a wino — and sorry, I may look like this for the next week.”

  “Humph,” Natasha grunted, then lay back down.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I expect to be home for dinner.”

  “With a cheap bottle of wine, no doubt.”

  “Possibly, depending on how well the begging goes,” Jack replied.

  “I wish you luck. Looking like that, you can beg all you want when you come home, but you’ll still be sleeping in the basement. A cheap bottle of wine might be the only comfort you get.”

  A light rain was falling when Jack, the woollen skullcap pulled down over his ears, walked into a wooded area close to the concession stand. He’d brought a sheet of plastic, which he laid on the ground, along with an old sleeping bag. Beside that he put a garbage bag partially filled with empty cans and bottles to give the appearance he was earning money through recycling.

  Once settled, he took off one of the gardening gloves he was wearing and phoned Laura. “You comfy?” he asked.