“It was the right thing.”
“What happened to Melvin and what happened to Winston was not the right thing,” replied Jack, before going back to his car.
Neither Jack nor Natasha spoke until they returned to their apartment and parked the car.
“Somebody is going to pay for this,” said Jack. His voice was almost a whisper, but his intention was clear.
***
It was 10:30 when Rose arrived at work. Her jaw was still frozen from an early-morning dental appointment and she was taking off her jacket as Jack entered her office.
“There was a homicide last night. An indigent person by the name of Melvin Montgomery. He was kidnapped from downtown Vancouver, tied in duct tape, and murdered in a park out in Coquitlam. I’d like to poke my nose into it a little bit.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry. Good morning. I got your message that you would be late. How’re your teeth?”
“The ache is gone. Turns out I’ll need a root canal. So, you were saying an indigent person was kidnapped and murdered. Odd. What group do you think is behind it and why?”
“Well … to be perfectly honest, I —”
“I suggest you always be perfectly honest with me. Why are you interested in it?”
Jack paused, and said, “The victim was known to my wife. She’s a doctor and had been treating him. They found a prescription on the body. Corporal Connie Crane is the lead investigator. She called Natasha at 3:30 this morning.” Jack told her what had transpired.
“Why kidnap a homeless person and drive him all the way out there to kill him?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Melvin even had a garbage bag over his head. Connie said the weapon was a cheap Saturday night special they found at the scene. Nothing makes much sense at the moment. Maybe the victim was in line to inherit some money. So far, it doesn’t look like it.”
“Doesn’t sound like it would fit our mandate.”
“It likely doesn’t.”
“But you would like to stick your nose into it regardless? More of a favour to your wife?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Rose was quiet for a moment before asking, “Have they traced the gun?”
“I called a few minutes ago and spoke to another investigator by the name of Dallas. He said it was made in the U.S. and owned by an elderly man in Georgia. He died of old age four years ago and his property was turned over to his son. The son said he found a second handgun purchased by his dad, but not the first one. It was never reported stolen and the family has a solid reputation in the community.”
“So, how did it end up in Canada?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I-HIT sent it to the lab to see if it has been involved in any other cases. It will take a week or two before we find out. Longer yet for the U.S.”
Rose nodded and said, “After all the other cases you have been involved with, this seems rather mundane.”
Jack shrugged. “Yesterday you told me if I ever needed a break, to let you know. Maybe this is it.”
“Do you think I-HIT would mind having you poke around?”
Jack sighed and said, “Connie might not like it. CC is good, but our paths have crossed before and she never seemed overly appreciative of the methods I used.”
“Isaac spoke to me about those cases. Perhaps Corporal Crane would have been more appreciative if you had left her someone to take to court, rather than someone hauled off in a body bag.”
“That —”
“I know. Was a coincidence.”
“Exactly,” said Jack, feeling uneasy.
“Does the victim have any personal relationship with anyone you know, other than being treated by your wife on a professional basis?”
“No. My wife took it hard … losing a patient. She felt sorry for him, but that’s it.”
“Well, as you obviously know, gun smuggling into Canada is a top concern. The seizure of the weapons that you and Laura were responsible for over the weekend illustrates the need for our involvement. Would you be content to limit your field of investigation to the gun for the moment and let I-HIT handle everything else? Until such time, of course, that circumstances or information indicates otherwise?”
“Definitely,” said Jack, with a smile. “Do you think you can convince the powers that be that a Saturday night special falls in our mandate?”
“Leave that to me. Do you know Connie Crane’s boss? What is he or she like?”
“It’s Staff Sergeant Randy Otto. In a nutshell, I’ll tell you what I know. He’s a good guy. Very experienced policeman. Cares about his people … but is also the type to see the big picture. The only bad thing I can say about him is he prefers Scotch over martinis and demands that the Scotch not be pedophilic.”
“Pedophilic Scotch?”
“Has to be well-aged,” replied Jack with a grin.
“Sounds like you know him well.”
“Got to know him over the murder of a Vietnamese girl. I really respect him.”
“I’ll give him a call first, then mention it to the brass after. It would also be helpful if you could find out the proper description of the pistol. I doubt that the brass would know the difference between an Uzi and a wobbly Webley, but describing it as a ‘Saturday night special’ won’t exactly impress them.”
“I already asked. It’s a 9 mm six-shot semi-automatic made by Bryco Arms in the U.S. Bryco used to be well known for making the most Saturday night specials used by criminals. They sold for under fifty bucks. A lawsuit in 2003 finally put them out of business.”
“Good. That sounds better. So we’ve got a weapon from a notorious gun manufacturer in the U.S. catering to criminals, and now has been used to commit a murder in Canada. Don’t worry, I won’t have any trouble pitching it. You get any flack, direct it my way.”
“Thanks, Rose. I appreciate this.”
“No problem.”
Jack was leaving when Rose said, “Jack!” She waited until he turned to face her before lowering her voice and saying, “If you solve it, I’d appreciate it if the bad guy makes it to trial.”
Jack nodded quietly and left.
***
Two hours later, Jack and Laura received a visit to their office from Connie Crane.
“Okay, Jack! What the hell gives?” she shouted as she strode in.
“Hi, CC. Haven’t you gone to bed yet?” replied Jack.
“Don’t give me that shit! I talked to Dallas. Why are you sticking your face into my homicide?”
“Because I told him to,” said Rose, walking in behind her.
Jack quickly made introductions and CC cast a suspicious glance at Jack before turning to Rose and saying, “Why? What business is it of yours?”
“International gun smuggling,” replied Rose.
“International gun smuggling!” replied CC. “Jesus, this is just kids! Not organized crime!”
“Kids?” asked Jack.
“Yeah, we found a footprint made by the perp. Not clear enough to match to a shoe, but from the size of it, we think it was a young teenager.