James Coopers awoke suddenly. He imagined he heard the sound of footsteps in the hall; soft and slowly moving steps. He reached for the 9-millimetre pistol he always kept under the pillow and rolled off the bed on the opposite side away from the door. He held the gun levelled at the door and waited. Nothing. A moment later he stood up, lowering the gun and slipping it back under the pillow. A bad dream, he thought. He must be more jittery than he realized. It was the killing. He’d never killed anyone before. He would have to step carefully from now on, since the police would be looking for whoever took out the old man.
He went to the washbasin on the commode and picked up the water pitcher, pouring some of the cold water into the large porcelain basin sitting next to it. He bent down and scooped the water into his cupped hands and splashed it over his face. The cold water was just what he needed, giving him a sharp jolt that instantly cleared his mind.
Five minutes later he was in the kitchen, standing at the coal burning stove heating water for his tea when the telephone in the hall rang.
“Hello,” he said when he picked up the receiver.
“Hi James,” a familiar woman’s voice responded. It was his Abwehr contact in the United States.
“Oh hi. This is a nice surprise.”
It was a surprise, in fact. His US contact rarely called unless it was to convey orders, or a warning. This time it was the later.
“I just heard from Uncle Kevin with some interesting news.” This was code letting him know that what was to follow was important.
“Oh? What’s up?”
“You remember we were planning something special for his fiftieth birthday, well, I just heard that you know who in Montreal has decided it was time to come down and make up.”
Translation: she was telling him the security people in Montreal were sending someone, or something, to Halifax that might have an impact on him.
“That’s good news. About time too,” he said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Do you think you’ll make it down for the party?”
She was telling him that it might be time to shut down his operation and leave Halifax. This contingency had already been set up when he was originally assigned by the Consulate in New York after he returned from Germany.
“Not sure. Travel is still a problem.”
“Okay. Just wanted you to know,” she said,
“Thanks. Look I have to go now, you know, work and all.”
“Okay. Bye for now. Let us know if you’re coming.” The line went dead, and he hung up.
He went back into the kitchen. The kettle was steaming away on the stove. He picked it up and poured the hot water into a teapot on the table with some tea leaves already inside and let it steep, then went to the cupboard for a mug and the tin of powdered milk and bowl of sugar. He sat down and considered the phone conversation. It left him feeling unsettled.
The call was clearly a warning that the authorities were looking for someone here in Halifax as a possible agent. The idea of packing up and leaving wasn’t something he wanted to think about. He had settled into his life here and wasn’t looking forward to giving it up and leaving it behind. He knew the day might come and didn’t want to contemplate the alternative to leaving...federal prison. Fortunately, he had everything in place for a speedy departure. Plans he made before the war.
Maybe it is time to pack up, he thought, as he poured another cup of tea. First, it looked like his contact at Naval Headquarters might be on to him, which wasn’t good, since he would be open to extortion and exposure. And now, this call. The first problem, his contact, he could solve simply by killing him but that would bring the police into the picture. No, he thought, that wasn’t an option. He still had a few days to decide, so he opted to wait, at least until after this convoy sailed.
* * *
My meeting with Morrison went well. He agreed with me that we had enough evidence to take to the Crown Prosecutor’s office to get an arrest warrant for Kline. He also agreed it was time to pass along what we had on the theft operation on the docks to Mulroney, especially as it came more-or-less under his authority rather than ours.
I left his office feeling pretty good about the result and headed back to the interview room and Jencks. I entered the room with a uniform following me inside who went and stood by a wall. Jencks was pacing the floor puffing on a cigarette.
“Sit down,” I said, closing the door and stepping to the table.
“When’re you gonna let me outta here?” Jencks asked. He had stopped pacing when I came in.
“I said...sit down,” I snapped.
He hesitated a moment the dropped the butt end of his cigarette, crushing under his boot.
“Pick that up,” I said, “This isn’t the street.”
He bent down and picked up the remains of the cigarette and stepped to the table and sat down, putting the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray on the table.
“Better. Now it’s time for you to make some hard choices.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“I mean, by the time I leave this room you’ll tell me everything ‘bout the killin’ of Slaunwhite and everything you know ‘bout the pilfering off the docks. If I’m satisfied, I won’t be chargin’ you with murder.”
“What! Murder? I ain’t murdered nobody,” Jencks almost yelled, rising in his chair.
“Siddown. Maybe not, but you were there when it happened, and we know you left with the killer. That makes you an accessory. You could be looking to swing alongside him if found guilty,” I said. I knew I was stretching it here, but it was worth a try to play on his fear.
“Hang...Jesus Christ.”
“One of two choices.” I sat back and let the idea take root. I watched as he pulled out another cigarette and lit up, his hands visibly shaking now.
“Whaddya mean, two choices?” he asked, looking at me and blowing out a lung full of smoke.
“Either take your chances in court on the murder rap or cooperate an’ spill everythin’ you know. I mean everythin’. You give up the killer an’ the gang doin’ the stealin’ an’ I’ll talk to the Crown an’ ask them to take the death sentence off the table.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Instead of swingin’ you’ll do time.”
“Ain’t much of a choice,” he muttered.
“Too bad. So. What’s it to be? Risk the rope or talk?”
“Okay...okay. Whadda ya wanna know?” Jencks said in resignation.
“Smart play. I’ll be right back. Think carefully about what you know and be ready to talk when I come back” I stood up and headed back to the squad room. Pete was sitting at his desk.
“How’d it go upstairs?” he asked when I came in.
“He agrees we’re ready to get a warrant for Kline. He’s gonna call an’ get it started,” I answered.
“What about Jencks?”
“Ready to sing like a canary,” I said, smiling. “I need you to come with me when I go back.”
“No problem. So, he’s gonna give up Kline?”
“Uh-huh. And everthin’ he knows about the thievin’ operation.”
“Jesus,” Pete whistled. “That’s great. What about Laurier?”
“If we’re lucky, yeah, him to.”
I filled Pete in on what just happened. I poured two mugs of coffee before leaving.
“You really are a devious sonofabitch,” he said, chuckling.
“Whatever it takes,” I returned.
Back in the room, Pete and I sat down. I set one of the mugs of coffee I carried in front of Jencks then sat down. Pete flipped open his notebook and got ready to record everything.
“Let’s get started,” I said. “First. The murder of Slaunwhite. Tell me everythin’.”
Jencks picked up the mug and eyed us over the rim.
He opened up and gave us a detailed account of the events leading up to and including the killing of Louis Slaunwhite. A lot of his account coincided with what we had already pieced together.
“We was movin’ freight from back a da shed to da loadin’ dock.”
“What freight? How’d you know what to take?’ Pete asked.
“It was marked.”
“By who?’
“Dunno. Everythin’ was always marked before we got dere.”
“Okay, go on,” I said, cutting in.
“Yeah, sure, anyways, outta nowhere he pops up.”
“Who?” Pete asked, cutting him off.
“Ya know, Slaunwhite.”
“Then what happens?’
“He starts yellin’ that he got us and was gonna get da cops an’ dats when Ed jumps out an’ clips ‘im wit his hook.”
“That’s Ed Kline?” I asked.
Jencks nodded.
“An’ then?” I said.
“He drops to da floor. I ain’t never seen so much blood, Jesus. Den Ed tells summa da boys ta help him roll ‘is body inta da truck. Dat’s when me an’ Ed got da fuck outta dere.”
“Where’d you go?” I asked.
“Back ta ‘is place. I split after dat.”
“Where can we lay hands of Kline now? If he’s on the run, where would he go to hole up?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Jencks said. “Last I ‘eard he was headin’ over to Dartmouth.”
“Why Dartmouth?” I pressed.
He shrugged saying, “Dunno.” His tone changed slightly leaving me to think he let something slip he didn’t intend.
“So why do you think he went there?” Pete cut in.
Another shrug.
I had a good idea and pressed him.
“That’s where your boss lives, right?”
“Wh..., uh, I dunno nuttin’ ‘bout a boss.”
“So, you’re sayin’ you don’t know someone named Maurice Laurier, is that it?” Pete cut in.
“Yeah...dat’s what I’m sayin.’“
“Remember the rope,” I said.
Jencks sat there nervously puffing away on his fourth cigarette since the interview began.
After a moment, I said, “Okay. One more time. Do you know Maurice Laurier?”
I could almost hear the gears grinding away inside his head as he weighed his chances. It was obvious that he knew Laurier, but it was also obvious that he was scared to talk about him, even with the threat of possibly being hung. I decided to let it go for the moment and come back to Laurier a bit later.
“Okay. Back to Kline. Where would he hole up? Who’d help him?”
“Only one I know is some skirt he was runnin’ with, maybe.”
Helen Hollister. I gave Pete a quick glance and he nodded.
“Okay,” I said, looking back to Jencks. “You’re doin’ great. Now let’s talk about this business on the docks.”
“Yeah, sure.” He knew he buggered.
Before starting, he picked up his mug. It was empty. He waved it me. I got up and went to the door and opened it. I called to the nearest patrolmen I saw and told him to bring three coffees, all with milk powder and sugar then closed the door and went back to the table.
He spent the next fifteen minutes giving us a complete rundown on the operation, at least as much as he knew about, which was enough. He gave up a number of names, most we already had paper on— streets thug mostly, and a few I guessed were just people like Butler looking for a fast buck. He also gave up a couple of names of dock bosses, Overall, a great catch. Mulroney was going to have a good day when I turned this stuff over to him.
It was time for a break. Pete and I got up and headed out of the room, locking the door behind us. Before heading for the squad room, I instructed one of the uniforms milling around the front desk, to go get a sandwich and coffee and take them in to Jencks, and to make sure the door was locked when he left. I told Pete I was heading upstairs to see Morrison with what we just got and have him contact the Crown to get our warrants.
Morrison was impressed with my results and said he’d get on to the Crown right away.
“By the way,” he asked as I started to stand up. “What’s up with that other body, the one up in the railyards?”
“We’ve had some uniforms canvassing the area, but as you know, the only people livin’ up that way near enough to have seen anythin’ are the Negroes in Africville. So far all they’ve managed to get is from one or two who say they think they saw someone, a man in a trench coat and a hat. Maybe a white man. They’re still checkin’.”
“Hmm. You still thinking we’ve got another German agent?”
I shrugged and said, “Makes sense given the area and time of the murder. Can’t think of any reason for anyone to be up there that time of day. I passed my thoughts onto Parks an’ Mulroney down at Intelligence. Parks is arranging for the army to set armed patrols on a twenty-four-hour basis.”
“Better late than never, I suppose. Still, you did some good work today.”
“Thank you, sir. ‘Preciate it.” I turned and left his office.
Back in the squad room I sat down at my desk, Pete taking a chair in front of my desk.
“Boss happy?” Pete said.
I nodded.
“Whaddya think?” he asked, settling in his chair and crossing his legs.
“I think we jus’ closed the Slaunwhite murder an’ as a bonus, busted up the operations on the docks,” I said with a smile. “Not bad work for one day.”
“I agree,” Pete said. “but he didn’t give us anything we can use to nail Laurier.”
“He will. He’s definitely scared ‘bout a hangin’ charge over his head.”
“That was a neat trick, threatenin’ him like that. Good thing the guy’s thick as a brick an’ hasn’t dealt with any lawyers or he would’ve called your bluff.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Been my experience guys like him aren’t to bright even want a lawyer. But one thing I picked up on was he sounded more afraid of talkin’ ‘bout Laurier than what we could do to him.”
Pete nodded. “Yeah, I noticed that too. Didn’t think Laurier had that much clout.”
“Me either,” I said, agreeing with him. “I think it’s something I need to get Phil to dig a lot deeper on with his people in Montreal. I got a feelin’ that Laurier is more connected than we knew, maybe even outside the city.”
“The mob?”
“Maybe. More likely the French mob outta Marseilles.”
A funny look crossed Pete’s face.
“The Unione Corse,” I said. “That’s what they’re called. Operates similar to the mafia. I heard about them when I was workin’ in Boston. Some sorta connection between them an’ the mafia, mostly to do with the heroin trade.”
“So, if he’s connected to this bunch then that means they’ve here in Canada.”
“Yeah. Way we heard it, they’re suppose to be in Montreal.”
“Jesus. You think Laurier’s part of this, what’d you call it, Unione Corse?”
I nodded. “It’s a possibility. That’s one of the things I’m hopin’ Phil will clue us in on.”
“Jesus,” he said again, then, “speakin’ of our brother, you plannin’ on sharin’ this information with him?”
“Uh-huh. Our main interest was identifyin’ Slaunwhite’s killer, which we now know. This other business is interestin’ to be sure and needs to be shut down, but it falls more-or-less in his bailiwick. Afterall, theft in time of war is more a federal crime than local.”
“Okay. So, when you goin’ to give it to him?”
“Later today. I wanna lean on Jencks some more, see if I can get what we need to go after Laurier.”
“So, what now?’
“First. Lets grab a bite of lunch. Then you go back to Hollister’s place. Maybe we’ll get lucky an’ Kline’ll be there. Take a car and a uniform with you. If he’s not there, go back to the south end an’ lean on someone.”
“That’s a longshot — Hollister’s place. You think he’d be that dumb?”
“Maybe. I gotta gut feelin’ he’s on the run, an’ an’ if Jencks is to be believed, he doesn’t have many safe or trusted places he can go without someone rollin’ him over. I think his best shot for help is sittin’ in a room down the hall. That leaves only the woman. An’ while you’re checkin’ out the Hollister’s place I’ll have another talk with Jencks, then call Phil.”
“Okay,” Pete said, standing up. “You wanna meet later?”
“Yeah, say ‘round four unless you get lucky.”
“Works for me. Let’s eat.”
We headed out of the station. It had clouded over and there was still a stiff wind coming down from the Basin, but I didn’t mind. It was turning out to be a good day and I was feeling pretty good.
Later, when I returned to the station, it was filled with a crowd of angry men yelling and swinging at each other. Most were dressed in civilian clothes, however, mixed among them were several men in uniforms, mostly Navy. There were about a half dozen of our men with their nightsticks out trying to break up the scrappers and get control over the chaos.
I was about half way through the mob when one of the civilians took a wild swing at my head. Lucky for me I saw it coming and managed to get out of his reach; he didn’t have enough room to put his full weight into the punch, which was a good thing, because he was a brute of a man, and if it had connected...
The scuffle quickly gained some momentum and I found myself duking it out with a couple of seamen. Luckily, I came out ahead and dropped one of them quickly with a solid right to his midriff. The other one managed to clip me on the cheekbone, but not hard enough to do anything. I took care of him with a sharp knee to his groin, after which, he surprisingly managed to stay on his feet, but otherwise was finished. Several other officers had finally arrived, and the scuffle was soon under control.
It took over twenty minutes to get control inside the cramped space in front of the desk. When it was over, several men were down, dazed but still conscious. Two of our men had bloodied faces but otherwise were okay. I took a few hits myself, mostly to my body. Otherwise, nothing serious... fortunately. My cheek started to hurt, and I suspected that by tomorrow I’d have a bruise for my efforts.
Some of the officers were cuffing the worst of the mob. I later heard the trouble began outside with a confrontation between a group of civilians and several merchantmen over something or other. The sailors seemed to have gotten drawn into the dispute by accident.
I finally made it back to my office and grabbed a coffee before heading back to the interview room for another talk with Jencks. When I got there; I saw the door was ajar. I looked inside, the room was empty. I returned to the front area and looked for the cop I assigned to keep an eye on Jencks. I spotted him standing over three men sitting on the floor and went over to him.
“Where’s my prisoner?” I demanded, when I reached him.
“Sir?” he said, snapping his head to the side to look at me. He still had his nightstick in his hand. I could see he was still stoked from the fight.
“My prisoner. Where is he?”
“He’s not in the room?” he asked stupidly, getting a grip on himself.
“No, he’s not in the room,” I snapped.
“Uh, he was there when I brought him back from the loo.”
“Did you lock him in?”
“Uh...uh...,” he stammered.
“This isn’t the time for ‘uh’, bucko. Think. What happened?”
“He said he needed to go so I took him down the hall to the loo. When he was done, I took him back to the room an’ put him inside.”
“Yeah...and?”
“That’s when the ruckus broke out an’ I heard the sergeant call for all available officers and went to see what was goin’ on.”
“So, you didn’t lock the door?”
“I...I, um, I thought I did,” he said, sounding worried. “Am I in trouble?”
I glared at him for several moments before answering.
“We’ll see. This will be put in your personnel file,” I said. “For now, you write up a report about this an’ put it on my desk before you end your shift. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” he said, looking abashed but slightly relieved.
I went to the front desk and instructed the duty officer to put out an all points alert for Jencks then pushed my way back to my office feeling really pissed off. My only solid witness to the killing and the business on the docks was gone. This meant a bigger problem for me: would he try and hook up with Kline and fill him in on what we had on him? Would he help him get away? Or would he just protect his own hide and try and get away on his own?
So much for this being a good day.
The Coroner’s report on the murdered man up in the railyards at the Basin was sitting on my desk when I sat down, rubbing my sore cheek. I opened it and scanned the document. It contained the usual information. I went straight to the summary not expecting much more information from what we already surmised.
AUTOPSY SUMMARY
Victim’s name: Jerome Richards
Age: 63
Height: 5’ 7”
Weight: 189 lbs
General health: Overweight, high cholesterol, signs of liver damage due to excess alcohol; indications of cancer from chronic smoking and, early signs of heart problems.
Cause of death: a single puncture wound to the heart by a weapon four to six inches in length with distinguishing features, ‘see sketch.’
Next of Kin: None
Autopsy performed by: Dr Phillip Cavenaugh, Pathologist, Victoria General Hospital
There was more in the report, mostly medical information which I didn’t really need. I dropped the document on the desk, reached for the phone and dialled. Three rings later Mulroney answered.
“It’s Robie,” I said, after he answered.
“Hi. You sound ticked off. What’s up?” Mulroney asked.
“Jus’ lost a key witness in my murder investigation. Sonofabitch jus’ up an’ walked out.” I gave him a quick recap of what happened then went on to the reason for the call.
“Sorry about that,” he said when I finished. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Thanks, but I got it covered. The bugger doesn’t have many options to get away.”
“Okay. By the way, I was about to call you in a bit, so this call is well timed.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“I heard back from Montreal on your request for more information on Laurier. Looks like the reason we didn’t have anything useful on him is because he was operating there under a different name. They made a connection to another character they’ve been looking at, a man named Pierre Lesarde. Seems he fits the same description as Laurier.”
“So, you’re thinking that Laurier and this Lasarde are the same man, and Laurier is an alias?”
“It’s a working theory,” Mulroney said.
“How’d they make the connection?”
“One of our men decided to ask someone in our criminal investigation section if they had anything on someone fitting Laurier’s description. That’s when they hit on Lasarde. Anyway, this Lasarde turned up in Montreal about five years ago from Europe. We think he’s one of a network of contacts representing the French mob in Marseilles.”
“You’re talkin’ ‘bout the Unione Corse, right?” I asked.
“No dust on you is there,” he said, sounding impressed.
“Name came up a coupla times when I was working on the Boston force,” I said.
“Interesting. Makes sense though. We think there’s a connection with them and Luciano’s mob in New York and their drug trafficking interests.”
“That’s was the word we had. Okay, this information helps some, but I don’t think he’s here to set up any kind of operation for their heroin business.”
“I agree. My best guess would be that he was starting to feel the heat from our investigations and decided to disappear for a while. Halifax looked like the best place to go, especially now that we are at war.”
“And being a criminal, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to cash in.”
“You got it. But we haven’t been able to tie anything to him. He’s covered his tracks expertly.”
“Well, maybe what I have for you will change all that,” I said, and proceeded to give a detailed rundown on everything Jencks gave me.
When I finished, he said, “Christ, this’ll put a significant dent into the problems we been working on. Great work.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess this means that you’re goin’ to take an interest in Laurier?”
“Yeah, afraid so. Sorry. I know you really wanted to be the one to take him down.”
“Hey, anything that’ll shut him down and put him away works for me.”
“Yeah, me too. By the by, that was a neat trick you used to squeeze Jencks. You really are a devious bastard.”
“Pete said the same thing.”
“So, why did you call?” Mulroney asked.
“Mostly to pass along the information I jus’ gave you and ‘ ‘bout the other dead man...the one found in the Basin the other night. I jus’ got the Coroner’s report.”
“Uh-huh. Anything we don’t already know?”
“Not really. Like I said the last time we talked, the doctor who did the autopsy pointed out an irregularity regardin’ the murder weapon, remember?”
“Yeah. Something about it being similar to the type of knife used by commandos.”
“That’s it. Anyway, he indicates that the blade used was definitely distinctive and even supplied a sketch of what it probably looks like. It is definitely not a blade you would usually find or be that easy to lay your hands on. So, that means we’re lookin’ at either one of the foreign merchantmen or an agent. I’m puttin’ my money on an agent, which puts this one in your hands. I’m gonna send the report down to you by messenger.”
“Hmm. I’m inclined to agree with you. We know from some of the German agents we’ve picked up that some like to use a hidden spring-loaded sticker on their forearms hidden out of sight.”
“Interestin’. Have you received any more information from Montreal on this suspected agent?”
“Not much,” Mulroney said. “We’ve sent a cable to MI5 and Special Branch at Scotland Yard for anything they might have.”
“That’s pretty high up isn’t it? You think they’d have anythin’?” I asked.
“They would have any intelligence on what the Germans are up to from their underground networks on the Continent.”
“Makes sense. Anyway, thought I’d give you a head’s up on the Basin incident. You should get the document within the hour.”
“Okay, and thanks.”
“No sweat. Now I gotta go an’ try an’ catch Jencks.”
“Good luck,” Mulroney said.
“Yeah,” I said wearily as I hung up, thinking how this day could get any worse.
Suddenly the phone rang, and I picked up the receiver.
“Robichaud,” I snapped into the receiver.
“Robie,” the voice said, “it’s me, Martin, on the duty desk.
“Sorry, Martin. Didn’t mean ta bark at ya,” I said.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I heard what that bonehead did. I already scalded his arse pretty good for it. Anyway, why I called. I jus’ got a call from some woman up the north end. Sez she saw a man runnin’ down the road with another one shootin’ at ‘im.”
“Where was this?”
“Up on Leeds near Robie. Her address is number 35. Name is Mrs. Humbolt.”
“An’ she sez she saw a man shootin’ at another one?”
“Who was on the run down the street,” Martin said.
“You send anyone?”
“Not yet. Wanted ta run it by you first ‘cause of that murder you’re workin’.”
“Okay. Has Pete taken off yet?”
“Ten minutes ago. Took Billy Watson with him.”
“Okay. Whose the nearest patrol car?”
I heard him shuffle some papers. “Joe Wilson. He’s up by the barracks on Brunswick. Want me to call ‘im in?”
“Yeah. Tell ‘im to pick me up out front in ten minutes. I’ll fill ‘im in on the way.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Thanks. Oh yeah, one more thing, make sure you got an all points alert out for Jencks.”
“Already in da works.”
“Figured as much,” I said, smiling as I hung up.