Jack wasn’t concerned when he heard the ambulance siren. They were only a few blocks from the Royal Columbian Hospital in New Westminster, and since their arrival, it was the third siren he’d heard.
His curiosity was aroused when Hawkins received a call from Special O. Within seconds, the panic in Hawkins’s voice told him something had gone horribly wrong.
“Make sure uniform secure the area!” Hawkins yelled. “What? Oh, fuck, oh, fuck. They’ve already notified my office?”
Hawkins ended the call and stared at Jack, his mouth hanging open.
“What happened?” Jack demanded.
“Greg left the lounge about ten minutes ago, but Peter stayed. Everyone held their positions and maintained silence for fear the bad guys have a cellphone detector. A few minutes ago some guy out walking his dog cut through the back parking lot and found a body.”
No. Please, no. This can’t be happening.
“They think it’s Greg,” Hawkins added.
“You mean it might not be him?”
“One of the Special O members got a look as the ambulance was loading him up. Said his face isn’t recognizable. He was beaten with a pipe or a bat or something … but he was wearing the same clothes that Greg was.” Hawkins swallowed. “His car’s still in the lot, too. It’s, it’s gotta be him.”
This is my fault. I was supposed to be looking after him. “Uniform’s there?”
“Yeah, and they cordoned off the area. They already called my office. That’s why Bumpy called me.” Hawkins paused. “I-HIT is attending.”
“So he’s either dead, or they expect him to be.”
“Yeah.” Hawkins looked dazed. “I’ll coordinate with I-HIT. Someone will need to attend the hospital. I — I gotta make some calls.”
Jack clenched his jaw in an attempt to control his emotions as he lowered his window to speak to Laura, Alicia, and Bradley. And I need to call Rose. Greg’s wife will have to be notified.
* * *
An hour later, Jack and Rose met Assistant Commissioner Lexton in her office.
“Any update?” she asked immediately.
“They found a weak pulse when he was admitted,” Jack said. “He’s in a coma. A neurosurgeon said that if they can keep him alive, he’ll be in surgery for a lengthy period of time. A member from I-HIT is at the hospital and promised to keep me updated.”
Lexton looked at Rose. “He’s married, you said?”
“Yes,” Jack replied for her. “I notified Toronto Drug Section and they sent someone to tell his wife. I gave them my number to call back to make arrangements.”
“We’ll pay for her flight out, of course,” Lexton said. She eyed Jack. “Tell me everything from the time he arrived at the airport.”
Jack went over in detail the events leading up to what had happened. When he finished, Lexton stared at him quietly. He grimaced. I know. It’s my fault. You don’t have to tell me that.
Lexton appeared to read his thoughts. “I don’t see that anyone from our side is to blame for what happened,” she said firmly. “Certainly not you. The decisions you made were reasonable given the circumstances.”
There must’ve been something I could’ve done differently.
“Thank you for that comment,” Rose said, glancing at Jack.
“What really concerns me is that this is the second undercover operative to be targeted by these people in less than two weeks,” Lexton stated. “Granted, undercover work is dangerous, but this is unprecedented. Do we have any idea how their covers were blown?”
“Not a clue,” Jack replied bitterly.
“Is there any chance it was a robbery? Maybe a drug addict who picked him at random?”
“I-HIT said he still had his watch and his wallet,” Jack replied. “I don’t think —” He was interrupted by his phone ringing. “It’s Constable Jameson. She’s the one I-HIT sent to the hospital.”
“Answer it,” Lexton prompted.
“No change,” Jameson said as soon as Jack answered. “Still in surgery, but a doctor wants to know when his wife is arriving. They want to speak to her about, uh, how invasive the operation to try and keep him alive will be.”
“I’m not sure whether she even knows about it yet,” Jack replied. “She lives in Toronto. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“I’ve also got a picture of his face when he arrived,” Jameson said. “It’s, uh, unbelievable.”
“Send it to me,” Jack said abruptly. “I’m in a meeting. I need to go.”
Jack relayed the message to Lexton and Rose as the picture came through on his phone. He looked at it and heard himself gasp. I’m looking at a corpse. They’ll never save him.
“Show me,” Lexton stated.
“It’s gruesome,” Jack warned, swallowing the bile rising up his throat.
“I used to work I-HIT. I’ve seen gruesome.”
Rose leaned over for a look and winced, then Jack handed his phone to Lexton.
She turned the phone in her hands, apparently unsure of which way she was to look at the image. Her face showed little emotion, but her jawline rippled. Jack couldn’t tell if she was clenching her teeth to control sorrow or outrage.
“The only times I’ve seen this much trauma inflicted on a victim were in crimes of passion,” Lexton said sombrely. “Domestic situations, rejected lovers. People with a lot of repressed anger.” She handed the phone back to Jack. “Still no weapon found at the scene?”
Jack shook his head. “It’s within throwing distance of the Fraser River. The dive team has been called. If was a pipe, they should find it. If it was a bat it may’ve been carried downriver.”
“What investigative steps have been taken so far in regards to Derek and Peter Powers?”
“Peter was brought in for questioning and immediately demanded a lawyer,” Jack sighed. “He has a good alibi in that two members of Special O had him under observation in the lounge when it happened.”
“An alibi which was planned, obviously,” Lexton stated.
“Yes. As far as Derek goes, he was also under observation by Special O, having lunch in downtown Vancouver.”
“Another planned alibi, no doubt,” Lexton stated.
“It might’ve been a precaution, because we’ve never done anything to make him think we know he’s involved. I spoke with Sergeant Hawkins. They’ll be releasing Peter shortly, and we don’t see any advantage in tipping Derek off as to our interest in him.”
“What about the informant who made the introduction?” Lexton asked. “Could he have tipped them off?”
“Sergeant Hawkins and Corporal Bradley were on their way to pick him up twenty minutes ago. Considering the seriousness of the charges over his role in what happened to Constable Short, I’d be surprised if he tipped them off.”
“We should find out shortly. I imagine Sergeant Hawkins will be putting him on a polygraph,” Rose said.
* * *
Hawkins pounded on the door of Leo Ratcliffe’s basement suite with his fist. There was no answer, no sound from within.
“I think that’s his car,” Bradley said, pointing to a green sedan parked in the alley behind a fence.
Hawkins tried the door. “Locked. I’ll try calling him.” He took out his phone and tapped in Ratcliffe’s number. “No answer. Fuck it!”
The door smashed open on the first kick.
Leo was on his back inside the doorway with a bullet hole in his forehead.