Angel in the Full Moon. Don Easton
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could be good,” said Jack. “Pay phone call instead of using their cell. They’re up to something.”
“It’s too deserted there to stand nearby and listen,” noted Laura. “They’d make us.”
“Wait here,” said Jack, before darting over to the telephone.
Now what’s he up to? Laura spotted the Russians coming back out of the confectionary store, but it was apparent that Jack had already seen them and was moving off farther down the street.
The Russians used the pay phone again before walking back toward their apartment building. Moments later, Jack returned.
“Let’s see what we got,” he said, holding up his voice-activated tape recorder.
“You just did an illegal wiretap,” said Laura. Her comment was said more in surprise than it was to rebuke.
“I would never do that,” replied Jack. “I was just going to use the phone and accidentally forgot my recorder when I was there. Glad I remembered it.”
“Right, do you think you’re talking to Quaile or Internal? Come on, let’s see what’s on it! Hope they spoke English.”
“If they didn’t, I’ll call Natasha.”
English was spoken, but between passing cars and the muffled-sounding voice of Moustache Pete, much of the conversation was missing. Two things were heard. It was evident that a meeting was to take place in Costa Rica within the next two weeks. Moustache Pete also said, “The shipment will be as white as snow.”
“Bingo! Coke shipment,” said Laura.
“For sure. Let’s go back to the office. I’ve got the pay phone number. Let’s find out who he called.”
“Glad you’re back,” said Quaile, motioning them into his office. “Have a seat,” he said, sounding friendly.
“We just got something on the Russians,” said Jack. “I happened to overhear them at a pay phone. It sounds like they’re planning to bring a boatload of coke up through Costa Rica.”
“Oh, good,” said Quaile. “Pass it on to Drug Section. I’ve got ...”
“We haven’t reached that stage yet,” said Jack. “We need to ...”
“Don’t interrupt me,” responded Quaile with a noticeable chill to his voice. “This office is done working on degenerates. We’re stepping things up around here. I just got off the phone with Inspector Penn at Commercial Crime. They have a huge stock manipulation case on the go. He said he would be glad to get the extra help.”
“Stock manipulation,” said Jack. “That should be left up to Commercial Crime. The organized crime we target is ...”
“Considering you work on an Intelligence Unit,” said Quaile, “I’m astounded at your lack of knowledge. Perhaps you should review what organized crime is. The Canadian Intelligence Service of Canada says that it is two or more persons consorting together on a continuing basis to participate in illegal activities.”
“Yes,” replied Jack. “The Criminal Code, which is more suited for the RCMP, defines it as three or more persons. But that is not the point. I am personally familiar with real organized crime. It ...”
“Then you will appreciate that your new assignment is within our mandate! I’m sure they appreciate our offer to assist.”
“They never even asked for assistance?” said Jack, angrily. “You just decided to call and butt in?”
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