Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
Jack and Laura waited at Queen Elizabeth Secondary School until the bell announced the start of the first class. Minutes later, they introduced themselves to the secretary who rounded up several copies of school yearbooks from recent years.
It only took Jack a couple of minutes to find a picture of Cocktail taken when he was addressing an assembly. Cocktail was clean shaven in the picture, but Jack had no doubt it was the right man. He nudged Laura and gave her the thumbs-up sign.
“Betty, excuse me,” said Jack, with a smile at the secretary. “Could you tell me who this person is?”
Betty used her feet to propel the castors on her chair over to Jack and Laura. “That is Lyle Ryker,” she said. “He’s no longer with us.”
“His name is familiar,” replied Jack, flipping through his notebook. “I believe your principal, Morris Bloomquist, mentioned him before. Someone popular with the students I understand. Taught math.”
“Yes, he did. He’s the nicest man,” continued Betty. “He organized a humanitarian drive with the students for that big tsunami in Thailand. I was sorry to see him leave after last semester.”
“Where did he go?” asked Jack, not looking up from his notebook as he found the notes he had made earlier.
“He started a humanitarian relief agency that provides medical equipment to hospitals and research facilities in third-world countries.”
“Do you know the name of the company?” asked Jack.
“No, but it is in Vancouver someplace. Lyle is the dearest man. I can definitely assure you that he is not who you are looking for. As a matter of fact, he stopped in about a month ago and dropped off a box of chocolates for me.”
And looked through Amanda’s file …
* * *
Whiskey Jake and Lance walked up to Damien’s house as he opened the front door.
“This better be good,” said Damien. “You interrupted my breakfast.”
“There’s something you need to hear,” replied Lance.
Minutes later they strolled through the backyard. Damien’s face darkened when he received the news about what had happened overnight.
“A complete fiasco,” Lance muttered. “These guys aren’t competent enough to tie their own fucking shoelaces.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Damien. “You’re telling me that they were armed and had four guys tied up and still couldn’t kill them! They even let them burn the barn down!”
“And a shed behind,” added Whiskey Jake.
“Fucking Christ!” yelled Damien.
“And let them escape,” said Lance. “Which means they might be looking for revenge.”
“Want to join up with Balvinder, Fateh, Rashard, and Quang and wipe the fuckers out?” asked Whiskey Jake.
“Are you stupid, too?” roared Damien. “There’s no fuckin’ way we’re doin’ business with any of these dumb fucks! I must have been out of my mind to have considered it in the first place.”
“What are we gonna do?” asked Whiskey Jake.
“Grab either Sy, Mongo, or Munch. If you can’t find them, grab someone in their gangs who has some clout. Tell them we found out that Cocktail tried to backstab us. Take whoever that is to see the two dumb shits we sent to help Cocktail. Blow the two dumb shits away as a sign of good faith and give their driver’s licences to whoever you grabbed from The Brotherhood.”
“So they’ll have pictures to show we took care of the right guys,” said Lance.
“Exactly. Mention we’re still looking for Cocktail and let the guy go.”
“What do we do about Cocktail?” asked Lance.
“He’s too valuable to waste. We’ll have to move him. Maybe back east. Tell him to lay low until we set up someone in his company to act as a replacement. After that, we’ll start Cocktail off all over again someplace else.”
* * *
Jack called Amanda’s home in Victoria and her mother said that Amanda was doing volunteer work at a senior’s lodge, but would be home by suppertime. “Perfect,” said Jack.
He and Laura caught the eleven o’clock ferry departing from Tsawwassen to Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island. They arrived in the Victoria PD office after lunch and Jack called Connie.
“You just waking up?” asked Connie.
“No, I couldn’t sleep. After talking with you last night, I remembered a comment Cocktail made when we were ambushed about how we weren’t on the honour roll. I figured maybe he is, or was, a teacher.”
“Get down to the school and check it out,” replied Connie. “I’m sure it’s the same school Amanda Flowers taught at.”
“Already did it. Came up with some snapshots in school yearbooks from previous years. Some are of teachers who don’t work there anymore. I’ve got a suspect, but he doesn’t have a beard and the school pictures are grainy.”
“Who’s your suspect?”
“I don’t want to say until I’m positive. If I did pick the wrong photo and sent you to scoop the wrong guy … I mean, in court, that would blow everything … I want to talk to Amanda Flowers first.”
“Where are you?”
“At the Victoria PD office, having coffee with a friend. Laura and I are going to interview Amanda. I think when we do, I’ll know for sure.”
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” asked Connie suspiciously.
“If I give you his name and you make the arrest, defence may demand that I appear in court. I can’t risk that because of our informant. It won’t be me that tips you.”
“Then who … Christ … Crime Stoppers? That’s not really kosher.”
“Neither is murdering someone or ordering a multiple rape and mutilation. Do you want to find out or not? I won’t jeopardize the informant.”
Connie sighed and said, “You know I want to find out.”
“Good. As soon as we know you will know. I want to talk to Amanda. Cocktail’s order to have the punks slash her face had to be personal. I think when we talk to her and ask her about her relationship with the suspect, it will come together.”
“I should be the one to interview her.”
“She trusts Laura and me. I know she will open up to us. She might not to you.”
“So it’s someone she dated? Maybe a married guy?”
Jack remained silent.
“All I want is for you to identify him, right? It will be me who makes the arrest.”
“Oh, for sure. As I said, we have to stay out of it to protect our informant.”
“Good, as long as we’re clear on that.”
“At that point, as far as I am concerned, Laura and I are finished. It will be up to you. Hope you have him in cuffs before we’re back.”
“Hope so,” said Connie, feeling relieved that Jack was going to let her handle it. “Well quit talking to me and go see her.”
“Unfortunately, we discovered she started a job at a senior’s lodge and won’t be home until suppertime. Her parents say she is still really distraught. I don’t want to bother her at work and cause a scene. We’re going to wait until she gets home. I want her as relaxed as possible. Her own home will help.”
“Yeah, okay,” sighed Connie. “Guess another three or four hours won’t hurt.”
“As long as we’re killing time,” suggested Jack, “I remember reading your file and there were three potential witnesses you never interviewed.”
“What? Those three winos?”
“Yes. As I recall, one of them was originally from the Duncan area. That’s less than an hour away. Want Laura and me to make a few inquiries? Maybe check with relatives and come up with an address or something?”
“I tried before but it wouldn’t hurt to ask again. That would be appreciated. Then I can stroke it off.”
Jack waited patiently as Connie gave him the details about John-Wayne Charlie and said, “We’ll see what we can find out.”
“You’ll let me know as soon as you talk to Amanda.”
“That’s a promise,” said Jack.
“One more thing about Amanda. An hour ago I got a call from the prosecutor handling the case on the three punks who attacked her. Defence is willing to plead to a three-year sentence for each of them to be served in juvenile detention. Ask her what she thinks.”
“Amanda doesn’t want to testify. I know she will go for it, but I’ll still ask.”
* * *
An hour later, Jack and Laura parked their car and approached a man who was working under the hood of a car in his driveway. He looked up as they approached and asked, “You from the department? The guy who called me this morning?”
“Yes,” said Jack.
“My brother is around back in a shed. He carves masks. They’re nice. You should buy one.”
“How long has he been doing that?” asked Laura.
“A few months, but he’s good. So how come he is getting some money? I’m his brother, Gunnar. How come I don’t get any?”
“Are you older or younger?” asked Jack.
“I’m two years younger. What’s that got to do with it?”
Jack opened his briefcase and passed Gunnar a picture of Father Brown.
“Evil eye!” said Gunnar. “So that is what this is about.”
“You know him?” asked Jack.
Gunnar nodded and quietly passed the picture back to Jack. “None of us will forget him. His name is Father Brown, but all us kids called him Evil Eye because of the mark on his forehead.” Gunnar looked at Jack and nodded in understanding and said, “So that is why my brother is getting money. It’s for what Evil Eye did to him on Kuper Island.”
Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry, but I lied. We are both RCMP officers. I know you tried to protect your brother by lying to one of our members a couple of months ago, so I lied, too.”
Gunnar stared blandly at Jack as he tried to contemplate the logic of the situation. When he spoke, his voice became a whisper. He pointed to the picture and said, “You finally arrested him. You want John-Wayne to testify … he won’t. He won’t talk about it to anyone. Not even me … and I was there.”
Jack and Laura exchanged a glance. Gunnar thought Father Brown was still alive.
“Please, say you can’t find him,” pleaded Gunnar. “My brother has lots of problems. He can’t sleep … he quit drinking four months ago. This will make him start again.”
“Tell me about Evil Eye,” replied Jack.
Gunnar leaned back against the front of the car. His eyes brimmed over and he wiped his face with his hand, leaving a black streak of grease down his cheek. He breathed heavily for a moment and his eyes drifted off into space. Finally he spoke.
“All us kids had to play basketball in a gym. We all had numbers on our shirts. I was about seven and stayed close to John-Wayne because he was my big brother. All you could hear was the sound of the ball bouncing and kids’ feet movin’. Every day Evil Eye would come out from the office above and stand on a balcony and watch us. He would call out a number and the kid with that number had to go up to his office. One day he called mine and John-Wayne traded shirts with me. I never did have to go up there, but we all knew what Evil Eye was doing.”
“We need to talk to your brother alone,” said Jack.
“He won’t talk about it. He’s too ashamed.”
“That’s too bad. I think he’s a hero,” replied Jack.
“He’s my hero.”
“Let us talk to him alone,” replied Jack. “Maybe we can work something out.”
“You know what was real bad?” said Gunnar as Jack and Laura turned to leave.
Jack and Laura shook their heads.
“After Evil Eye called a number, all the rest of us kids were real happy and laughed and played. That still bothers me.”
“Because you knew you were safe for another day,” said Jack.
Gunnar nodded.
* * *
Jack and Laura followed a path behind the house that was bordered by wildflowers. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Too beautiful, thought Jack, to be going to jail. He stopped and placed a hand on Laura’s shoulders.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We can’t do this,” he replied.
“You son of a bitch.”
Jack’s mouth gaped open. He could not remember the last time he ever heard Laura swear, let alone at him. “You’re angry with me because —”
“Damn right I’m angry with you. Angry that you would even have to ask me.”
They found John-Wayne alone in a shed. He was sitting on a wooden stool, carving a wooden mask that he held between his knees. He looked up when they came in and said, “You want to buy a mask … or are you from the government?”
“We’re with the RCMP,” said Jack. “We’re here because of this guy,” he added, holding out the picture of Father Brown for John-Wayne to take.
John-Wayne refused to take the picture in his hand. Instead, he slowly put the mask and the carving tools on the ground and stood up. His face showed no emotion. “I wondered when you would come for me,” he said, holding his wrists straight out in front of him so he could be handcuffed.
“We’re not handcuffing you,” said Jack. “Put your arms down.”
John-Wayne slowly lowered his arms and said, “I don’t care that I gotta go to jail. I’d smash his head again if I could.”
Jack remembered that Connie had some hold-back evidence. He looked at John-Wayne and asked, “What else did you do to him?”
“I killed him.”
“I know, but besides hitting him with a cement block, what else did you do?”
John-Wayne stood quietly for a moment and shook his head. “I used to drink. Hard to remember.”
“You did something besides hit him on the head,” said Jack. “Close your eyes. Try to remember. What sounds did you hear? Maybe a smell or the feel of something …”
John-Wayne closed his eyes briefly and said, “I stomped him after.”
“Stomped him?” asked Jack.
John-Wayne turned slightly so Laura couldn’t see and pointed to his crotch. “Down there,” he said. “I stomped him a bunch.”
“Did you ever tell anyone about what Father Brown did to you?” asked Laura.
John-Wayne shook his head.
“Or what you did to Father Brown?” asked Jack.
“No. I don’t want to talk about it with nobody.”
Jack looked at Laura and she gave a slight nod of approval.
“There is something I need to tell you,” said Jack. “Please listen carefully. There is no evidence to prove what you did. Possibly a hair, but that could have been blown into the yard or left there by you some other time.”
“But I told you,” said John-Wayne, sounding matter-of-fact. There was no anger or emotion in his voice. He looked at Jack, once more raised his wrists and said simply, “I know you will make me pay for what I have done.”
Pay? You have suffered in silence all these years … you have already paid and will no doubt keep on paying. Jack cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to hear a word you said so far. How about you, Laura?”
“What did you say?” she asked, cupping a hand to her ear. “I can’t hear a thing. It must be the wind.”
Jack looked at John-Wayne and in a loud voice said, “The person in the photograph we showed you was murdered near an alley that you used to frequent. We came to ask you if you saw or know anything that would help our investigation.”
John-Wayne looked confused.
“Did you watch someone attack Father Brown?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“That I heard,” added Laura, dutifully making an entry into her notebook.
John-Wayne slowly lowered his arms. Jack put a hand on his shoulders and said, “Good luck with your life. I think you’re on the right path, but what the hell do I know, I’m white.”
* * *
On the drive back to Victoria, Laura turned to Jack and said, “What are we going to do about Noah? He could end up like John-Wayne.”
“I’m going to talk to Victim Services to start with. I don’t need to say anything about John-Wayne. With Father Brown being at Kuper Island and the symptoms that Noah is exhibiting, I think it will be self-evident.”
“Noah may clam up and deny everything.”
“We can be pretty sure that the girly magazines that Gabriel found under his mattress were given to him by Father Brown. If Noah needs prompting, I will tell him that we found Father Brown’s fingerprints all through the magazines. Noah is emotionally distraught. He will open up.”
“And if Connie finds out? What then? She might piece it together like you did.”
“I’ll tell Connie that I suspect Father Brown of being a pedophile because of Noah’s behaviour. It won’t matter. She will still think Cocktail is the murderer, especially after my next phone call to her.”
* * *
Jack and Laura went to Amanda’s parents’ house, arriving at the same time she did. She introduced them to her parents, after which Jack said, “Is there someplace we could talk in private?”
Moments later, Jack, Laura, and Amanda were alone in a spare bedroom that had been turned into an office.
“Where are you working?” asked Laura.
“I volunteer to read aloud at a senior’s lodge,” said Amanda.
“The opposite end of the spectrum from teaching childen,” replied Laura.
Amanda pursed her lips and said, “Not really. A lot of the seniors behave like children.” She looked at Jack and said, “You wanted to speak to me in private. What’s up?”
“To start with, the defence lawyers for the three punks who attacked you have offered to have their clients plead guilty with a joint submission for a three-year sentence in juvenile detention. The prosecutor will leave the decision up to you.”
“No decision there,” replied Amanda, looking relieved. “I told you I don’t want to testify. Three years is better than I expected.”
Jack nodded.
“Did you come all the way over here to ask me that?”
“No,” replied Jack. “What can you tell us about Lyle Ryker?”
“Lyle,” said Amanda, sitting back in her chair with surprise. “Well … I was told he used to be a nice guy. The year before I did my practicum at QE, he and his wife lost their first baby to SIDS. I know they went through a rough time and ended up getting divorced.”
“You ever go out with him?”
“No, he’s much older than me.”
“So … never anything between you?” asked Jack.
“Well … he made several passes,” admitted Amanda. “It was getting embarrassing. That was my first teaching job … I wasn’t sure how to handle it and not cause a stink.”
“What did you do?” asked Laura.
“I finally threatened to go to Mr. Bloomquist and complain of sexual harassment. That put a stop to it. When the semester was over, he quit teaching. I think the sight of children bothered him. He never got over losing his baby. When he left, Mrs. Jenkins replaced him as a chemistry teacher.”
“Chemistry?” replied Jack. “Bloomquist said he was replaced as a math teacher.”
“He did that, as well. Many teachers handle more than one subject. Why all the questions about Lyle?”
“He is the person who goes by the name of Cocktail. The one pulling the strings with The Brotherhood. The one responsible for your attack.”
“No!” said Amanda, putting her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no,” she repeated and began to cry.
Jack put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.
“Are you sure?” she sobbed.
“Positive,” replied Jack. “This is highly confidential, but he set up an ambush and tried to kill four men last night over the war that The Brotherhood are having. The victims escaped, but I happened to be in a position to see Lyle myself. There is no doubt.”
Amanda touched the scars under her bangs and said, “He told them to do this, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“My God,” replied Amanda, slowly regaining her composure. “So he has been arrested … you want me to testify about my past relationship with him? I told you … I won’t go through that again.”
“He hasn’t been arrested yet, but could be soon. The men he tried to kill last night are also looking for him.”
“I hope they find him first.”
Jack nodded and said, “I have to send a text message. Would you mind making us a cup of coffee? We need to talk to you about all the other teachers to ensure that Ryker did not have an accomplice.”
It was several cups of coffee later when Jack received a text message back that read: 666-0. Jack excused himself to send a short message to Natasha.
* * *
Connie rolled her eyes when Crime Stoppers called to say they had been given a tip about a man named Lyle Ryker who had confided in the tipster that he had murdered Father Brown. The tipster gave enough details to sound credible.
Jack’s BlackBerry rang immediately. He walked out into the hallway so he could talk in private before answering.
“Hi, Connie, I was about to call you.”
“Really? What on earth for?”
“Uh, to let you know that Laura and I located that wino for you. John-Wayne Charlie.”
“Is that a fact? That is why you were going to call me if I hadn’t called you first?”
“Of course. I’m afraid it’s not good news. John-Wayne doesn’t know anything. Looks like we’ve hit another dead end.”
“Yeah, thanks, I’ll stroke him off my list. Well, goodbye …” Connie didn’t hang up and could hear Jack’s breathing on the other end of the line. She enjoyed making him wait for the news she knew he already possessed. Finally she said, “Oh, I almost forgot the reason I called. There is something I am sure you will be interested in.”
“Oh?”
“Crime Stoppers got a tip that a Lyle Ryker killed Father Brown. Have you ever heard of him? Do you think the tip is genuine?”
“Lyle Ryker … well, I’ll be damned. Did you know that he used to teach chemistry at Queen Elizabeth? Laura and I are having coffee with Amanda. She mentioned she had to threaten Ryker with sexual harassment once. Could explain her vicious attack. Cocktail also resembles the picture in the yearbook, except for the beard.”
“Anything else that would support the, uh, tipster?”
“Ryker owns a company that supplies humanitarian aid.”
“Humanitarian aid? I said, help my investigation, not hinder it.”
“Let me finish. The aid is in the form of medical equipment to hospitals and research facilities in third-world countries.”
“Chemicals and glassware!”
“You got it,” replied Jack. “Do you have an address for him?”
“Yup.”
“Be damned careful,” cautioned Jack. “I saw first-hand how violent he was last night.”
“If he comes to the door with a pitchfork, I’ll double-tap two into his chest,” replied Connie.
“Good. Watch yourself. The guy is a real psycho. Last night he said he was even going to stomp on my nuts after he killed me. Something about making sure I never spawned again.”
“He what?”
“Sorry, I’m talking low. I said —”
“No, I heard you! … Jack! That’s the hold-back information. Cocktail … I mean, Ryker, that’s what he did to Father Brown. He stomped on his crotch after he killed him.”
“Wow. Good going, Connie. You got your murderer. Go get the son of a bitch!”
“I’m on my way.”
“Let me know, will you? Laura and I will stay with Amanda until you call. In fact, my battery is getting low in my cell. I’ll give you Amanda’s number.”
* * *
An hour later, Connie called Jack back from the living room of Lyle Ryker’s house.
“You got him?” asked Jack, sounding excited.
“Only pieces of him,” replied Connie, suspiciously.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re too late. Looks like his enemies in The Brotherhood found him first. Murdered about an hour ago. City Homicide were here when we arrived. Someone took off his balls with a 12-gauge. Whoever did it let him crawl across his rug and then took off the top of his head.”
“Guess that’s what happens when you botch the murder of a bunch of thugs. Saves going to court.”
After Connie hung up, Dallas looked at her and said, “Well, at least Jack and Laura were in Victoria when the murder happened.”
“Yeah … hell of a good alibi, isn’t it?”