A Delicate Matter. Don Easton
Читать онлайн книгу.
it wasn’t. No sign of any stones with fresh scrapings or anything to indicate a rock had been used to bash a motor.”
“What about elsewhere — up at the camp?”
“They found a few footprints where the plants were growing, but nothing of value around the campsite.”
“Those footprints will belong to Larry and Dwayne,” Jack said. “They’d already harvested the weed and put it into duffle bags at the campsite.”
“Forensics will be there all day. Maybe something will turn up.”
“Like a body,” Jack said grimly.
“A body? Are you holding something back from me?” Connie asked suspiciously.
“I’m referring to Dwayne,” Jack replied. “Come on, Connie, give me a break.”
“Sorry. I’m so bloody tired I can’t think straight.”
“Any thoughts on how you want to work this?” he asked. “Maybe let me focus on the bikers and you check for other possibilities?”
“Christ, Jack, it’s me you’re talking to,” Connie replied in exasperation. “I don’t need any more bodies turning up — and I am thinking straight about that.”
“Connie, I want whoever did it arrested as much as you.”
“Arrested? I know you. Having one of your informants murdered — you take this personal.”
“You’re damn right I do. Larry was actually my informant, but Dwayne … well, I guess he was my informant, too. He was trying to be one of the good guys and was calling me for help.” He grimaced. “It’s eating away at me that I should’ve done something different. Maybe arrested them both to start with. I don’t know.” He met Connie’s gaze. “Of course I want the case solved. I’m a police officer. Not some lunatic looking to kill someone.”
“Maybe so, but I want you to stay out of the investigation,” she said forcefully.
Jack suppressed his emotions. In his heart he knew she was right and gave a nod of agreement. “I understand. Defence would claim I was biased because of some sort of personal rage. They’d imply that I tampered with the evidence and was lying about whatever testimony I gave.”
“You’re damn right they would, which is why you can’t be involved.”
“Still, I’ve got these wiretaps,” Jack said. “I told you I didn’t think the bikers were involved. The call between Shepherd and Banjo proves it. I’m not dropping the biker investigation.”
Connie was silent.
“What’re you thinking?” Jack asked.
“That I haven’t been to bed in twenty-six hours. I’m going back to the office, do a quick report, and assign day shift to work on it. Then I’m going home and starting fresh tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jack agreed.
“How about we meet tomorrow morning at ten o’clock with our bosses to update everyone in person and discuss the matter?” Connie suggested.
“To have me put in my place,” Jack replied. “Sure, if it’ll make you feel better.”
Connie snorted. “I’d only feel better if you were assigned to highway patrol — and even then I’d wonder every time a body turned up alongside the highway.”
Chapter Nine
Jack returned to the office and met up with Laura, after which they went to Staff Sergeant Rose Wood’s office. Laura had already briefed Rose up to the point where Jack had gone with Connie to the hospital, but Rose wanted to hear it again from Jack, starting at the beginning.
Lack of sleep coupled with feelings of depression and anger caused Jack to rephrase and repeat his words a few times, but Rose got a clear picture.
“So what do you plan to do?” she asked.
“Carry on as before,” Jack replied.
“I’ve seen how you’ve carried on before,” Rose said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve never lost an informant before, have you?” Rose asked.
“Never.”
“It shows — and you know what I mean. I don’t want you taking the law into your own hands.”
“You sound like Connie.” Jack was exasperated. “I went over the same thing with her. It’s her case — I know that. I’ll stick to working on the bikers and leave Dwayne to her.”
“Swear to God?”
Jack allowed his anger to spill out in his voice. “You know I’m an atheist. What’re you doing, testing to see how truthful I’m being?”
Rose stared at him. “Yes … and I’m sorry. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. You need to settle down and get your mind focused.”
Jack glared in response, but realized he couldn’t deny what she said. “I am tired,” he admitted. “I’ll go home, but first I should call Sammy in Drug Section to let him know, in case anything else comes in on the wire.”
“Swear on a three-olive martini that you’ll go home?” Rose asked.
Jack gave a lopsided grin as he stood up. “Swearing on that means more to me than some Bible.”
“Out of curiosity, have you ever even read the Bible?”
“Nah, I’m more of a non-fiction kind of reader.”
Jack returned to his desk and called Sammy. He told him how he and Laura had turned Larry and Dwayne into informants and the details of Dwayne’s call to Jack.
“Man, what a horrible thing to hear,” Sammy said sombrely. “What do you want me to do?”
“There’s nothing we can do as far as Dwayne goes,” Jack replied. “That’ll be up to Connie.” At least, for now.
“We were going to set up on Banjo later today,” Sammy said.
“Good. The GDs should be picking up weed from two other grow-ops tonight. Banjo will be involved, along with the other two prospects, Kyle Fennel and Arnold Hoster.”
“Yeah, I’ve got their pictures from the reports you gave me.”
“It’d be nice to discover where they press it and brick up,” Jack said.
“For sure. Later on, if we could get video and audio in the place, it’d make for strong evidence. I also want to get a sample of the dope before it leaves, but so far it doesn’t look good. Either Bob or Roxie or both have been staying close to home. Neal comes and goes at all hours. What with their dog, I doubt we’ll get into the truck.”
“Maybe you’ll have more luck with the prospects,” Jack said. “In the meantime I need to get some sleep. If anything interesting happens, give me a call.”
“Will do — and Jack, I’m sorry about Dwayne. I know you’re really protective of your sources. All I can say is … well, shit happens. It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could’ve done different.”
“It’ll bother me a lot less when I find out who did it — and justice is served.”
After arriving home late in the afternoon, Jack forced himself to stay awake until after dinner. An hour later he was brushing his teeth in preparation for bed when his phone vibrated.
It was Mack Cockerill. “What’s happening?” he asked nervously. “I heard someone ripped off Larry’s grow-op and whacked his brother.”
“I heard,” Jack said. “Homicide contacted me because I had an alert on