The unimposing Navy League building was on Barrington Street between South and Harvey Streets, not far from Cornwallis Park. The building had been commandeered by the Navy as its headquarters at the outbreak of the war. It also housed Naval Intelligence and, mostly unknown, the convoy planning department.
I had occasion, several months ago, to work with the intelligence people there. I had been investigating another murder then that overlapped into their area because the victim had IRA ties, and the killer turned out to be a German agent. At the time, I worked with a young Navy lieutenant named Michael Parks. He proved to be an affable sort for an Englishman, and a capable man. We became friends over the course of the case.
I called him earlier requesting a meeting. I needed background information on the pilfering situation on the docks beyond what we had in our files. I was reasonably certain he had his own people looking into the matter since many of the materials were of military importance. I also wanted to let him know about the new killing in the Basin. I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the Slaunwhite business because of the location. My gut feeling was it might have something to do with the convoy assembling in the Basin, and if so, then that made it his problem.
I used public transport mostly because of the constant traffic of trucks, cars and people clogging the streets and sidewalks, not forgetting the gas rationing. I managed to get on a tram car that had enough room to stand. When the tram reached the corner of Morris and Barrington Streets I got off and walked the short distance to the entrance of the Navy League Building.
I glanced across the street at Cornwallis Square. It was crowded, as usual, with sailors and a few soldiers idly skylarking about. Some had bottles of beer or alcohol of some kind. Poor bastards, I thought. Nothing to do to occupy their energy and time, and for many, they had nowhere else to go. There were a couple of beat cops patrolling the edges of the park keeping a wary eye on the crowd. The city council and the police chief decided to let the men, who risked their lives once out at sea, have whatever ‘fun’ they could find, so long as they behaved themselves and weren’t a nuisance to the people or businesses in the area. I climbed the steps to the twin doors leading into the Navy League Building thinking the situation would only get worse.
The inside foyer was exactly as I remembered it from my last visit.
Two armed sailors wearing the distinctive white webbing of the Shore Patrol and carrying sidearms and British Sten guns, stood on either side of the main staircase. One eyed me suspiciously as I approached the large oak desk and the young WAVE sitting behind it, pulling out my wallet to show my ID.
“Yes, sir?” said the young fresh-faced Wave. A Women’s Naval Reservist, she wore two pale blue chevrons with an anchor over them on her sleeve.
“Detective Robichaud for Lieutenant Parks,” I said, passing her my ID and badge.
“Yes, sir.” She jotted my name along with the time in the ledger in front of her then reached for the phone at the corner of the desk and dialled three numbers. After a brief moment she spoke into the mouthpiece then hung up.
“Lieutenant Commander Parks will be down momentarily,” she said with a smile. “You may sit there if you like.” She pointed to several thick leather chairs over against the wall.
“Thank you,” I said, putting my wallet away. I went and sat down noting the Wren’s reference to Parks’ new rank.
Five minutes later Parks descended the stairs. I noted he sported a third gold half ring between two full rings on his sleeve.
“Robie,” he said with wide smile. “It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah, it has,” I said, standing up, accepting his outstretched hand.
“How have you been?” he asked, letting go of my hand.
“Well enough.”
“And Pete? Still with you, you know, not joined up?”
“He’s good, and yeah, he’s still on the force. Congrats, by the way.” I nodded to his sleeve.
“Thank you. My reward for that business last year. So. What brings you in this time?” he asked as we headed for the stairs. The two sailors snapped to attention as we passed.
“I got another murder on my hands.”
“I see, and how does this concern my department? Not another German, is it?”
“No. The victim was a stevedore working the docks.”
He gave me a funny look.
“I think there might a connection to the thefts we’ve been hearin’ about.”
“I see. We have people monitoring that problem on the docks and at the shipyards. However, I’m still not clear on how...?”
“Let’s just say I’d like to compare notes,” I said, interrupting him. “Like I said, there might be a connection with the thefts and his death.”
“I see,” Parks said, as we entered his office and sat down. “Coffee? Tea?”
“No thanks, I’m okay.”
“So, what exactly are you looking for?”
“Well, I’m thinking that there must be some kind of organized operation going on. The thefts look like they’re too well planned. It’s more than some bloke stuffing a few items into his pockets, although I’m sure there’s a lot of that goin’ on. We got our ideas on who might be runnin’ the operation but don’t have enough evidence or proof to act. So, I was wonderin’ if your people have turned up anything we can use.”
“Hmm, yes, I see your point. And you’re right in thinking we’re aware of this activity. I think it would be best to put you together with our man leading the investigation into the thefts,” he said, reaching for the phone. “His name is Phillip Mulroney. A sergeant with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police on detached service from Montreal. Good man.”
“Phil, Michael here. Can you spare me a few minutes?” Parks said into the phone. “Right. Thanks.” He returned the phone to its cradle.
“He’s been working on this matter for the last three months. If anyone knows something, it will be him. Ah, here he is.”
The door opened and in walked the biggest man I ever saw. He was even bigger than Pete. I’d heard the RCMP had specific physical requirements for enlisting. He looked to be in his early thirties. Standing six-foot-three, he was built like the linebackers I saw on American football teams. He was dressed in his muftis.
“Phillip Mulroney meet Detective John Robichaud with the Halifax Police force,” Parks said by way of introductions.
I stood and offered my hand which he accepted. “Robie,” I said.
“Phil,” Mulroney said, pulling a chair across and sitting down. “I heard you were part of that business last year.”
I gave Michael a quick glance then said, “Yeah, we had a few moments, but it came out alright.”
“A few moments!” Parks said, cutting in. “I’d say it was a bit more than that, Robie. No need for modesty. It was a good job done well.”
“Thanks, but that was then.”
“Right. Maybe you could give Phil and I a rundown on this business you’re involved in at the moment?”
I quickly filled them in on everything I had to date: the body and where it was found; the blood stain discovered in the shed, and the indications of a vehicle, likely a truck, that was recently at the same dock and possibly at the scene where the body was found in the time frame of the killing.
“So, you think the dead man was murdered on the docks and then moved to Greenbank?” Phil asked.
I nodded. “Looks that way.”
“And that there’s a connection between this guy and the pilfering that’s going on?”
“In a nutshell, yeah. Mind you, I don’t have any sort of proof or evidence...yet. All I got so far is the dead body of a man who looks like he worked on the dock as a foreman; a suspicious blood stain and matchin’ tire imprints at the dock and where we found the body. Looks like they’re from a truck. It’s a workin’ theory,” I said with a shrug.
“Hmm,” Phil said. He was looking at me intently as he listened. “Circumstantial...and slim, but I agree with where your reasoning is taking you. What pier did this happen at?”
“Twenty-four.”
He nodded slightly then said, “Yeah, we’ve been keeping an eye on those piers lately. Too many things been turning up missing. But this murder is a significant departure from how they’ve been operating. I take it you agree?”
It was refreshing to talk to another cop. One who could see things from a cop’s point of view.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “So far, the local villains have limited their violent activities to assaults, muggin’s and coercion. This’d be the first killing’.”
“I take it your department has an idea who these people are?” Parks asked.
“We have files open on a coupla people we’re lookin’ at. Both are locals with no apparent outside connections.”
“Outside connections?” Parks asked, interrupting.
“To the mobs in Montreal or the States,” I said.
“Ah. Sorry. Go on. So why this killing?”
“No idea,” I said. “But if I was to make a guess, I’d hafta say it was either a fallin’ out or, if the guy was straight, he caught them stealing the goods.”
“I see. It seems a pretty drastic step to take, I would think. You know, dead bodies turning up and all that.”
“True, but if they are runnin’ the thefts then they’re playing for high stakes.”
Parks gave me another funny look.
“The war. The materials they’re lifting probably have a military connection, maybe even a security ratin’. Even if they don’t, they’re still breakin’ federal law an’ if they screw up and we can nail ‘em, they’d be lookin’ at some real hard time, maybe even the noose,” I said, looking at Mulroney.
“That’s right,” Mulroney said. “They would be charged under federal laws in place during wartime, like you say. Things like theft, looting and such, carry very severe penalties in time of war, especially if any of the materials have been classed as, ‘sensitive’.”
“If you know these people why can’t you arrest them?” Parks asked.
“I don’t have federal authority, so I can’t jus’ bring them in on suspicion alone. Still need evidence,” I said. “The Crown won’t give us the authority to arrest them without it. Then there’s their connections.”
“Yeah,” Mulroney said, giving me a knowing smile. “Had similar problems back in Montreal. How bad is it here?”
“More or less the same as everywhere I guess,” I said. “Lucky for us we know who most of them are, but again, we got nothin’ we can use against them.”
“Typical. They’re greasy bastards right enough. I assume you’re looking for something and Michael here thinks I can help you?”
“I’m guessin’ you’re gettin’ pretty much the same reports from the docks on the pilferin’ as I get. I’m also guessin’ that I don’t get everythin’, particularly if it has anythin’ to do with military cargoes.” I stopped a moment to watch Mulroney’s reaction.
“Uh-huh,” was all he said, keeping his face expressionless. Definitely an experienced copper, I thought.
“So, what I’m here for is to ask for any information you have from your investigations that you can pass on that might help my investigation.”
After a few moments, Mulroney sat back a little. “I kind of figured it’d be something like that. You understand that what we have is classified and not for use outside.”
“I do and I don’t want to know any of that, but I would appreciate anythin’ you’ve learned about who’s behind the thefts. I’m happy to share what I got in exchange. I figure the important thing is to shut them down, right? I think comin’ at them from two directions might give them a bit of worry. And I want those behind this killin’.”
“I think I may have a solution,” Parks cut in. “Since I oversee this end of things and understand Phil’s concerns and your problem, perhaps it might be in everyone’s interests if we agree to join forces, so to speak. Perhaps attach someone from Phil’s section to work directly with the police, at least until your investigation is over. That way the RCMP can decide on the spot what to release. What do you say?”
I looked at Mulroney who was looking at me. After a moment I nodded.
“That’d work for me,” I said. “You?”
“Happy to help,” Phil said with a smile.
“Excellent,” Parks said. “That settles that, now who do propose to send in?” he asked Mulroney.
“Me.”
“That’ll be fine. Robie?” Parks looked at me.
I extended my hand to the big Mountie. “Welcome to the Halifax Police Department.”
He took my hand with a smile. “Glad to help. By the way, how many of you are there?”
“Countin’ you...three.” I smiled, thinking how Pete would react when he met this mountain of a man.
“More than enough,” he said with a smile. “They haven’t got a chance. I’ll put something together for you. I’ll come to the station tomorrow morning if that’s okay,” he said.
“That’ll be fine. I’m usually in by seven. My partner is in a bit earlier. His name is Pete Duncan, by the way. You two should get on jus’ fine.”
“By the way, how’re you making out with that body you found in the Basin?”
I wasn’t surprised he knew about it.
“Still waitin’ on the medical examiner’s report. We’re talkin’ to people in the area but I’m not holdin’ my breath there. It was an isolated area with no lights or regular patrols except for the odd time one of the railroad’s people decide to check.”
“Mmm. Good points,” Mulroney said, then turning to Parks said, “Maybe this is something we should be addressing. Robie’s right, anyone could walk through that area unnoticed and unchallenged. That’s a damn good spot to see the ships.”
“I’ll get on that straight away,” Parks said, jotting a note on the pad in front of him. “This is a job for the army, I think. I’ll start proceedings to have them install two permanent armed four-man patrols.”
“Right then. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mulroney stood up, looking at me. He shook my hand and left the office.
“Seems a nice enough fella,” I said, turning back to Parks.
“Oh, he is. Been on the force since his late teens. Enlisted right out of high school. Seen several postings from the high north to Montreal where he worked on the organized crime problem there.”
“How’d he end up here?”
“He volunteered for attached duty with Naval Intelligence early last year. Seems to have a natural instinct for the work. We’re lucky to have him. Speaking of which, do you have any idea how long this investigation will take?”
I shook my head. “Not really. These things tend to run their own course and it usually depends on what we can dig up and how much interference we run into. But if you want, he can work with us from here. I wouldn’t need him on the street. Pete and I can handle that end. It’ll be enough knowin’ he’s available if we need him.”
“Excellent. So, he can stay here and continue on with his operations.”
“That’s right,” I said, standing up, offering Parks my hand. “Good workin’ with you again.”
“You too,” he said as we parted, and I headed for the door.
Back at the station, I found Pete sitting at his desk still wearing his jacket. The squad room in the old building was always drafty especially when the wind blew down off the Basin. It used to be the original location of Dalhousie University in the 1800s. At the moment, Pete was reading the local paper, the Chronicle.
I removed my overcoat and hung it on a hook along with my hat then poured a mug of coffee from the metal urn on a side table and went to Pete’s desk and sat down on the wooden chair beside it.
“See this?” he said, turning the paper towards me. He had it folded to an article on the bodies. Same old crap about the police not having anything to report. I read it on the tram ride in earlier in the morning.
“Those the crime photos?” I asked, taking a sip from the mug.
“Uh-huh. Jus’ came in ‘bout ten minutes ago,” he said, passing some of them to me.
I put the mug down and started to flip through the glossy black and white prints. The first three were of the body and the area around it. The next four were a mix of shots taken at the scene and the dock area showing tire tracks. I reached for the magnifying glass on the desk and looked more closely at the tread marks.
“I spotted that too,” Pete said. “Looks like they’re the same. Supports our idea that the body was taken from the dock and dumped.”
“Uh-huh. Any idea on the tire size? Maybe give us an idea of the type of truck?” I asked.
“My guess...a one and a half or two ton.”
“Hmm, yeah, maybe.”
“The VG sent down a preliminary report on the victim.” Pete picked up a sheet of paper and passed it to me.
“And...?”
“Nothing conclusive. Medical Examiner is sure the weapon was some sort a steel spike, you know, like those cargo hooks the dockworkers use. The puncture went right through the carotid artery. Poor bastard bled to death in minutes. Might explain the large stain we saw in the shed. They’re still runnin’ a comparison of that an’ his blood.”
“Okay,” I said, dropping the sheet of paper on the desk. “Time to check out that list of names we got from Cameron at the dock office. We got any idea on what was taken?”
“Accordin’ to the manifests, looks like dry goods and canned foods.”
“Looks like they knew exactly what they’re takin’.”
“Think someone inside is passin’ information on?”
“Yeah, looks that way. More likely, whoever it is, is sellin’ the information. We better run another check on them. By the way, how many names are on that list?”
“If you count all the dockers, thirty-four, includin’ the gang bosses,” Pete said.
“Anyone jump out?”
“One or two.”
I took the list and ran my eyes down the page. I spotted at least three names I recognized.
“Right. I’m goin’ upstairs an’ see Morrison. Let him know where we are and see if I can get a couple of uniforms to help with cross checking these names.”
“Okay. That’d help speed things up,” Pete said. “By the way, how’d it go with Parks?”
“Pretty good. There’s a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer on detached service to his section. He’s been investigatin’ the theft problem in the port for the last few months. He’s agreed to help us out.”
“A Mountie? Didn’t know they were workin’ with intelligence.”
“Makes sense. They’re the national police force an’ with the war, any thefts of materials an’ such, would come under federal jurisdiction. Pull the files on Wilson, Laurier and Purcell will ya? I think it’s time to give them another look see.”
“Okay. You thinkin’ it was one of them that’s behind this?”
“I think these thefts are organized, planned; maybe even with someone on the inside on the docks. If I’m right, I’d bet my pension one of them gotta be behind it.”
“S’pose you’re right,” Pete said. “They’ve got their greasy fingers into everythin’ in this city.”
I stood up and headed for the exit and stairs.