Subverting Justice. Don Easton

Subverting Justice - Don Easton


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be retired by then.” He cast a wary glance at Mortimer.

      Mortimer hesitated, then nodded. “I agree they need to be looked at. Once I receive the plan, I’ll give it the urgency it deserves.”

      “Okay, then,” Isaac said, refocusing on Jack. “How concerned are you? I see no problem with the force paying for you to have a home security system installed.”

      “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Mortimer interjected. “I’d hate to set a precedent that every time a member feels uncomfortable he receives a free alarm system.”

      “I already have an alarm system,” Jack said, looking at Isaac, “but thank you for the thought.”

      Isaac stared quietly at Mortimer for a moment, then looked at Inspector Dyck. “Let’s discuss Damien Zabat’s disappearance and Corporal Taggart’s … qualified opinion that he’s been murdered.”

      “Unless proven otherwise,” Dyck responded, “our office is treating it as a homicide investigation.”

      “Good,” Isaac replied. “For a variety of reasons, including that Corporal Taggart’s informant was present during the murder of Neal, Robert, and Roxanne Barlow, he should not be directly involved in the investigation. That being said, I see no reason why Corporal Taggart couldn’t assist you with your investigation into Damien Zabat.”

      “I agree,” Dyck replied. “As it would appear that Vicki Zabat is the one who set her husband up, I’m considering asking Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord to talk to her and see if they can get her to make an admission. Something we can get on wire.”

      Isaac looked at Jack and Laura. “You know her. What do you think?”

      “We can try,” Jack said, “but I’m not optimistic. She’s been around a long time and knows the game.”

      “Give it your best shot.” Isaac glanced at Dyck. “I think we can adjourn this meeting as far as Assistant Commissioner Mortimer and I are concerned, but feel free to use this room to discuss strategy with everyone else in regards to how or when Vicki Zabat should be approached.”

      “Yes, sir,” Dyck replied.

      Isaac and Mortimer got up to leave the room, but at the doorway, Isaac looked back. “Corporal Taggart, please step out for a moment. I’d like to have a word with you concerning your attitude at yesterday’s meeting.”

      Shit. I was hoping he’d forget about that. I already apologized.

      When Jack met Isaac and Mortimer in the hallway, Isaac looked at Jack and said, “Your outburst yesterday was uncharacteristic. I appreciate that you were under extreme stress and had gone days with little sleep.”

      “Sir, I’m still embarrassed by my conduct yesterday.”

      “Today you appear to be completely in control of your emotions. Considering the threat made on you and your family last night, I’m sure that’s not easy.”

      Crap, hope you’re not thinking of hiding me out among a herd of reindeer. “I believe it was simply an ill-conceived attempt at intimidation,” Jack replied. He glanced at Mortimer who looked at him stone-faced. “At this time I see no reason for any extreme measures to be taken.”

      “Extreme measures?” Isaac gave Jack a hard look.

      “Such as a transfer. I believe the best response is to go after the club from all angles.”

      “I see. Good … I agree.” Isaac paused. “You’ve had a remarkable career so far and have overcome much adversity. I want you to know that you’ve earned my respect over the years.”

      “Thank you, sir.”

      “I leave feeling confident that you’re completely capable of handling any obstacles or problems you will no doubt encounter in the future.”

      Jack saw Isaac’s glance flick toward Mortimer as he spoke. Did you give me permission to “handle” this asshole, or are you warning me to be careful?

      Isaac extended his hand and Jack shook it. Looking into Isaac’s eyes, Jack thought he discovered the answer. Both.

      Chapter Ten

      Jack caught Rose’s curious look as he returned to the boardroom. “Assistant Commissioner Isaac appreciates the stress I feel as a result of the threat made on my family,” he said, “and has forgiven me for the insolent remark I made to Assistant Commissioner Mortimer yesterday.”

      “Insolent?” Dyck questioned.

      “Our new assistant commissioner said we shouldn’t work on people who carry guns and told me the police should be called to handle those individuals. He also suggested Damien’s disappearance was a ruse to stay out of jail. I became sarcastic.”

      Dyck looked stunned, then said, “I can assure you that there’s no doubt in my mind that Damien’s been murdered. They’d never allow him to get away with squealing about a tonne of cocaine.”

      “I agree,” Hobbs said, “but murdered by who? And where’s the body?”

      “It was likely done by their hit team, which they call the three-three,” Jack replied. “I’ll give you file copies so you don’t need to write it down, but in a nutshell, in this province the three-three comprises four men. One by the name of Pasquale Bazzoli, who is a butcher by trade, but recently moved to Kelowna and isn’t working at anything legit. He has a history from when he was a kid for torturing and killing neighbourhood cats and dogs. He’s long since graduated from people’s pets.”

      “I often go to Kelowna to visit friends,” Randy noted. “Remind me not to buy any meat from him if he opens a shop there,” he added dryly.

      Jack grinned. “The other three live in the lower mainland. Floyd Hackman works in construction and operates heavy machinery — like diggers. He has numerous convictions for assault, including bodily harm. Criminal psych reports from before he joined the club note he talked about what a thrill it would be to kill someone. When Desert Storm came along, he spent five years with the U.S. Marines. Following that, he spent two years as a prospect with Satans Wrath, then got his full patch about four years ago.”

      “Join the U.S. Marine Corps,” Laura said. “Travel the world, meet interesting people … and kill them.”

      Laura, that doesn’t sound like you, putting on a facade to hide your stress. You really do need a break. Jack cleared his throat. “Then there’s Victor Trapp. He’s into martial arts and has worked off and on as a bouncer at various bars. The fourth is Nick Crowe, who drives a tow truck.”

      “Drives a tow truck,” Hobbs noted. “At least that doesn’t seem bad.”

      “I should mention that Crowe has a brother who works for a demolition company,” Jack added. “I’m certain that Nick knows his way around explosives, too.”

      Hobbs grimaced. “You got addresses for them all?”

      “I do on Bazzoli and Crowe. The other two are always moving. Half the time living with strippers or hookers. Hackman belongs to the Westside chapter and the other three belong to the Eastside. The third Thursday of every month is church night for Satans Wrath. If you do surveillance of their clubhouses then, you might be able to follow these guys to their addresses, providing you’re lucky enough to see what vehicles they’re in.”

      “Church night?” Hobbs looked bemused.

      “Party night. Nothing illegal is discussed inside the clubhouse. They’re too bug-conscious. Mostly they’d discuss upcoming rides, paying club dues, and other general stuff that a legitimate club might talk about. These guys are always surveillance-conscious. The three-three won’t even say hi to you unless it’s approved by their lawyer.”

      “Which is the criminal lawyer by the name of Basil Westmount,” Dyck said.

      “‘Criminal’


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