Art and Murder. Don Easton. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Don Easton
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: A Jack Taggart Mystery
Жанр произведения: Полицейские детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781459730717
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Jane said, “I’ve got a lead on the name Dempsey. Does your officer know if —”

      “We think someone shot our agent!” screamed the French dispatcher in heavily accented English. She then yelled in French to someone in the background. “I don’t know … I don’t know! I heard the shot. He’s not answering. He yelled, the Ringmaster! Then I heard … yes, it sounded like a shot. I’m certain it was. The line is dead now.”

      Seconds later Constable Martin called the telecommunications centre in Vancouver. They were unaware of any undercover operation taking place, but had her wait while they called Corporal Jack Taggart, first on the air and then at home.

      Jane’s heart sank when the dispatcher said, “His wife was reluctant to say much, but she did say he was called out to work about 1:30 a.m. I tried his cell but it went to voice mail. I’m calling his boss, Staff-Sergeant Rose Wood. I’ll give her your number, as well.”

      * * *

      Natasha felt uneasy after the call from someone purporting to be from the telecommunications centre. A certain urgency in the caller’s voice. Then again, with Jack, there always seems to be an urgency.

      When she received a call from Rose moments later, she was really worried. Rose would not be involved at this time of the night unless something serious was going on.

      She got out of bed and went into Mike and Steve’s room and gave each of her sons a kiss on the cheek. She thought about trying to call Jack herself, but if he was in an undercover situation it might not be appreciated. Besides, Rose would have already tried.

      She went back to bed and turned on the light to try to read. She knew it would be another long night as she clung to the hope of what he had once told her: that he was very good at what he did. He said if he had to rewire a lamp he would probably kill himself, but undercover was his forte.

      Natasha believed him. She had to. To think otherwise was unbearable.

      * * *

      Laura felt relieved when her phone rang. Now that Klaus and Liam had left, she was expecting Jack to call and say he was on his way back, but the call display told her it was Rose.

      Oh, man. Why is she up? Laura took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as she answered.

      “Laura, are you working?” Rose asked immediately.

      “Yes. We got called out unexpectedly.”

      “So you’re with Jack?”

      “Not at the moment,” Laura said as she eyed Brandy, who was walking around the hotel room with one high-heeled shoe in her hand as she searched for the other one.

      “Can we talk? Are you with someone?” Rose asked.

      “Yes, but go ahead.”

      “What’s my middle name?”

      “Alice,” replied Laura. “I’m with a source, not with any bad guys.”

      “I’m trying to reach Jack. I called Natasha, who said he got called out and that she heard him call you. I tried his cell but he didn’t answer. Are you working undercover?”

      “Yes, we’re in the middle of a UC, but I spoke to him a few minutes ago,” Laura replied as her gaze took in the bloody pillow case that had been on Klaus’s head. “He’s probably with someone and doesn’t want to answer. I’m expecting to hear from him any minute. Do you want me to have him call you?”

      “Is he with Clive Dempsey?” Rose asked tersely.

      Oh, man. How did she know that? “Yes.”

      “I got a call from Interpol via France,” Rose said. “A French undercover operative heard an order directing someone in Canada to kill Clive Dempsey and an undercover police officer with him. It sounds like they searched Jack and found his badge.”

      “Oh, no … no,” Laura moaned, bile rising in her throat as she fought her panic.

      “Focus!” Rose demanded. “Can you contact them? Do you know where they are, who they went to see?”

      “I don’t know who they went to meet or exactly where he is.” Laura struggled to maintain her professionalism. “He’s near Fort Langley. He texted me rough coordinates. He’s between 232nd and 264th streets and somewhere north of the Number One, but south of River Road.”

      “That covers a lot of area. Where are you?”

      “Still in the city … at the Emerald Hotel. Jack left with Dempsey almost two hours ago. Some other bad guys were here too, but they, uh, left a couple of minutes ago. I’m not even sure if they’re out of the hotel parking lot yet. I was expecting Jack to call again any minute.”

      “That may not be happening,” Rose said more to herself than Laura.

      “Don’t say that! I … I need to concentrate.” Laura desperately tried to come up with an idea. “What else do the French have for us to go on? Is there some way you could find out who Dempsey was taking Jack to meet? Anything at all that would help?”

      “No. The French telecom’s centre was receiving the information through a call from their operative a few minutes ago. Then their dispatch —”

      “Was receiving?” Laura asked. “What do you mean?”

      “As the operative was talking, dispatch heard what sounded like a gunshot at close range. No word from their man since then.”

      “Oh, my God.” Laura looked at her phone like it wasn’t real, then put it back to her ear. She felt like she wanted to vomit and tears clouded her vision.

      “They’ve got a cover team checking now to … hang on. Gotta put you on hold. Incoming call.”

      Laura swallowed a couple of times to clear the bile in her throat and sat in stunned silence until Rose came back on line. “It’s confirmed,” she said. “The French officer was shot in the head by an unidentified person. They have a rough description of the man who did it, but so far there’ve been no arrests.”

      Laura fought back the tears, not knowing what to say.

      “Can your source help us?” Rose asked.

      “No.”

      “Then get clear and call me.”

      “I’ll call in a couple of minutes,” Laura said. As soon as she hung up, she dialled Jack and as the phone rang, she looked at Brandy. “Get a move on! We’re outta here!”

      “I’m ready. Where we going?” Brandy asked. “What’s going on?”

      Laura’s call went to voice message. She thought of Klaus as her mind filled with rage. “What’s going on is I’m going to the nearest emergency room.”

      “I don’t need to,” Brandy said. “They worked me over pretty good, but I want to go home and —”

      “It’s not for you.” Laura’s tone was harsh. “I’ll drop you off a block or two away as soon as it’s safe. You can call a cab.”

      “Oh, you’re going to follow Klaus away from the hospital,” Brandy said.

      I don’t have time to follow him, Laura thought, tucking the shotgun under her jacket. Immediate persuasion would be needed. When I find him, he’ll phone and beg for Jack’s life as if it was his own … if I’m not too late.

      Chapter Eleven

      When Anton shot Clive, Jack dropped the bag of cocaine and ducked behind the table saw.

      Anton stepped over Clive’s body as he approached and waved his .32 Beretta back and forth, pointing it at each side of the saw. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He exchanged a grin with Bojan.

      “Want to play games?” Jack said. “Well, guess what, asshole, my gun is bigger than