The Grey Zone Read online

  “The end of Vath,” Laura muttered.

  “I felt that the deal I struck with him was worth it to catch whoever murdered Ferg.”

  Laura bit her lower lip. “You don’t have to convince me.”

  “Which is why I’ve got us working an afternoon shift. We’ll meet up with him this evening after he finishes work and say our farewells.”

  “Are you going to mention that we know he whacked Vath?”

  Jack thought for a moment. “We’ll play that by ear. He might want reassurance.”

  Laura mulled it over, then made a face. “Of course I-HIT will think you had something to do with it.”

  “Yup.” Jack paused. “Connie got promoted, too, while you were away.”

  Laura’s face brightened. “Sergeant Crane of the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team. That has a nice ring to it.” She smiled. “It’s about time. She deserves it.”

  “For sure. She’s a good investigator — which is why I spoke to you outside.”

  Laura looked sharply at Jack, then glanced at his house. “Think you have a bug infestation?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Assistant Commissioner Irene Lexton was the criminal operations officer in charge of the Pacific region and worked out of the RCMP headquarters building in Vancouver. Her impeccable record as a police officer, coupled with her sharp mind, saw her excel rapidly over her peers. She had worked in I-HIT before doing a stint in Ottawa, where she had continued to climb the corporate ladder. Her latest promotion three months ago had resulted in her return to British Columbia. This time, because of her rank, she carried a mighty sword.

  During her lunch hour she’d overheard Chief Superintendent Quaile telling another officer that an overly obese member who he’d scheduled to be transferred into the Intelligence Unit had just put in her papers to quit. Then Quaile had lowered his voice to make some comment before laughing. The other officer had looked disgusted and turned away, leading Lexton to suspect that Quaile had said something crass or otherwise inappropriate. Quaile hadn’t seemed to notice the other officer’s response. Likely lost in his own self-inflated ego.

  Quaile’s mention of the Intelligence Unit had caused Lexton to reflect on another thorn in her side. A thorn by the name of Jack Taggart. During her days in I-HIT she’d heard many rumours and suppositions about him, so it was with particular interest that, after her return to B.C., she read an intelligence report Taggart had submitted which discussed the circumstances surrounding the unexpected resignation of her predecessor, Assistant Commissioner Mortimer.

  The report mentioned the disappearance of Purvis Evans, the national president of Satans Wrath who had threatened Taggart’s family. His disappearance and presumed death had fallen on the same day that a Satans Wrath hit team was apprehended outside Mortimer’s house. The report said that an informant believed that Evans had ordered a hit on Mortimer to impress some high-level Russian cocaine traffickers. Taggart theorized that the capture of the hit team had spurred the Russians to kill Evans in order to sever any connection between them.

  What wasn’t in the report was an old operational plan that Mortimer had retained, but not approved. His handwritten scrawl on the back of the report noted a time and date when Taggart was ordered to turn over all his informants and never work undercover again. Six weeks later a hit team was waiting outside Mortimer’s house.

  And so Lexton had started her own file on Taggart. Now she went to the safe in her office and took out the file folder. Taggart had worked on more than a dozen cases in which criminals were killed. Too many to be coincidental.

  She felt frustrated as she perused the reports. She’d amassed reports of numerous incidents from his past; clearly he was no stranger to Internal Affairs and Anti-Corruption investigations. Some of them had included surveillance and wiretaps, yet nothing had ever been uncovered to indicate he was involved in anything illegal or improper. Doesn’t mean you’re not dirty. Just that you’ve never been caught.

  One document caught her eye: Project Birds of a Feather. U.S. authorities had planted a bug in the car of a suspected rogue agent and conspired with Ottawa to have the man work with Taggart on an investigation. Somehow Taggart’s intuition had kicked in, and he warned the agent just as he’d been about to say something incriminating. No doubt Taggart refrains from saying anything incriminating inside any vehicle or building.

  Lexton reread the notes she’d made a week previous concerning Taggart’s most recent investigation, involving a white supremacist group involved in gun smuggling.

  Taggart’s informant had introduced him to Erich Vath, the white supremacists’ Canadian contact. Vath, in turn, introduced Taggart to the supremacists. One week ago, Vath had been murdered within hours of Taggart’s cover being blown.

  Taggart had been in the States taking part in the arrests when the murder took place, but Lexton was betting that his informant had murdered Vath to protect himself. And if the murderer was the informant, how could he have known he was in danger — unless Taggart told him? The informant doing it on his own is one thing, but if Taggart tipped him off, we’re talking conspiracy to commit murder.

  On the day of Vath’s murder, Lexton had felt that she was in a delicate situation. She didn’t want to risk exposing the informant to I-HIT in case he was innocent. At the same time, she couldn’t drop her suspicions, so she’d chosen another route and ordered Internal Affairs to discreetly investigate whether there had been any communication between Taggart and his informant during the time of the arrests in the States and Vath’s murder.

  That had been a week ago. She reached for her phone and called Superintendent Weicker in Internal Affairs. What have you got?

  “I was about to call you,” Weicker stated. “We’ve obtained phone tolls on Taggart’s phone for the night Vath was shot and killed.”

  “And?”

  “He made two calls. Both were from an area in Washington several hours from the border. His first call was made at three fifteen a.m. to his residence. It lasted for slightly less than four minutes.”

  “So he called his wife,” Lexton concluded. “What was the other call?”

  “He placed his second call at three nineteen a.m. to Staff Sergeant Rose Wood. That call was also short.”

  “What about the informant? Were you able to trace any calls to his residence?”

  “Yes, at three fifty-five a.m. a call was placed to the informant’s house from a disposable mobile phone. That call was less than a minute long and came from a residential area in Burnaby, but we couldn’t pin it to any particular house. I suspect it was made from a vehicle or outside a house.”

  “Find out how far the location is from Taggart’s house.”

  “Already did. It’s about a twelve-minute drive. From Staff Wood’s apartment the location is about fifteen minutes, but, uh, lots of members live in that area. From my own house I could be there in under ten minutes.”

  “You’re not the person I’m interested in. Perhaps Taggart’s wife placed the call. Have you pulled any available CCTV footage from gas stations and the like to see if you can spot a car belonging to the Taggarts?”

  “Not yet. The area is residential, so I doubt there’d be any.”

  “Double check. Also check from the other end. Try and find out if the informant left his house.”

  “Concerning Staff Wood, do you want us to look at her? Good chance that her own apartment building has CCTV … but you asked that this be discreet. If we pull that kind of footage I can’t guarantee she won’t find out.”

  Lexton paused. “Yes, I want you to look at her, as well, but don’t risk getting images from the apartment security. I doubt we’d have enough to support a warrant, anyway. I don’t want the Intelligence Unit to suspect they’re being looked at. I’m sure I-HIT will be throwing a few questions their way, but that’s par for the course and nothing they won’t expect.”

  “I understand.”

  Lex
ton gazed at her file after ending the call. Perhaps Sergeant Taggart was too smart to get caught through wiretaps and telephone records. She smiled grimly. But Chief Superintendent Quaile despises you and the section. Time for him and me to have a chat.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Quaile faked a smile as Lexton strode into his office and took a seat in front of his desk. What the hell does she want? Surely she couldn’t have heard that joke I made from where —

  “Did I hear you correctly at lunchtime?” Lexton asked.

  Shit! She did hear.

  “That the member who was to be transferred into the Intelligence Unit is quitting?” she continued.

  “Oh!” He swallowed. “Uh, yes, she’s put in her papers.”

  “Has a replacement been selected yet?”

  “No … and we’ll need two replacements. The other constable who was scheduled is being ousted from the Force due to medical problems.”

  Lexton was lost in thought for a moment. Then she made eye contact. “This conversation we’re having stays between the two of us, do you understand?”

  “Uh, yes … certainly.”

  “I have something of an interest in the goings-on of the Intelligence Unit.” Her tone of voice belied her suspicion.

  Goings-on? They’re a bunch of idiots who’d rather waste their time catching criminals than be promoted. It’s as if they don’t respect rank.

  “I’d like to see someone known for their integrity transferred into the unit,” Lexton said firmly.

  “Integrity?” Quaile asked.

  “Someone who wouldn’t remain silent if they witnessed or had knowledge of any miscarriage of justice. Someone with the guts to report it to a higher rank.”

  She wants a spy! Talk about making my day!

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Lexton added, “I’m not looking to ask anyone to be an informer, but I’d like someone who’ll be completely honest with me. Someone with the moral fibre to do the right thing, should a difficult situation arise.”

  “May I ask, is there a specific incident you’re concerned about?”

  “I’d call it more of a trend. A lot of good work has come out of the Intelligence Unit, but it appears to me that there’ve been an inordinate amount of murders connected to their files.” Lexton grimaced. “Many are written off as coincidental to their investigations, but it’s left me feeling somewhat uncomfortable.”

  Quaile leaned forward on his desk. “That’s how I felt when I was running the section! Nobody listened to me when I said it needed to be cleaned out. It’s the reason I finally left.”

  “I heard why you left,” Lexton said icily.

  “Oh, well, there was a misunderstanding with one file, but —”

  “I’d like the replacement to be someone of high intelligence who is respected and trusted by their bosses. Preferably someone with undercover training, as they’ll be more likely to be accepted with that credential.”

  Undercover training? Taggart and Secord are the only two undercover operators in the section. So they’re the ones you don’t trust! He made a conscious effort to hide his smirk.

  “Think you could fill that order?”

  “And two such people would be better?”

  “Yes, it would.”

  “Give me a week. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Lexton replied, then left.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jack and Laura went into Rose’s office to say hello. Their conversation was light. Rose congratulated Laura on her promotion, and eventually the discussion came around to trying to make room for the two additional constables the unit was scheduled to receive.

  “Talk is the new headquarters building out in Surrey will be finished by the end of this year,” Rose noted. “There’ll be plenty of room then. Combining most of us under one roof will make things easier and more cost-effective.”

  “I don’t know if having I-HIT under the same roof as us will be a good thing or not,” Jack said facetiously. “Although I guess it will be easier for them to round up their suspects for lineups.”

  Rose didn’t appear to be amused. “Speaking of, I got a call from Connie in I-HIT this morning asking when you’d be in. She wants to talk to you about Erich Vath.”

  “Gee, I don’t know what more I could tell her that I hadn’t already told you,” Jack replied. “If I were Connie, I’d be looking to find out if any white supremacists crossed into Canada. Then again, I suppose the killer could be one of the ones up here.”

  “Gee, maybe she doesn’t believe you,” Rose retorted sarcastically.

  Meaning that you didn’t either when I tossed out that group as potential suspects.

  “I had the distinct impression that she wants to talk to you in person,” she added flatly.

  Sure, she wants to read my body language to see if I’m lying.

  Jack and Laura returned to their own desks, which butted up to each other in an office down the hall from Rose. They’d barely sat down when they had a visitor.

  “Hello, Sergeant Taggart and Corporal Secord!”

  “Well, hello to you, too, Sergeant Crane,” Jack responded as he and Laura rose from their chairs.

  Laura was first around her desk to shake Connie’s hand. “Congratulations, Connie. You really deserve it.”

  “Back at ya, Laura,” Connie replied. She looked at Jack. “You, I’m not so sure about … but I’ll shake your hand, regardless.”

  Jack gave a lopsided smile as he shook her hand. “Hey, haven’t we made you look good over the years? I’m sure that’s why you got your third hook.”

  “Unsolved murders don’t make me look good,” Connie retorted.

  “Well … look at it as job security,” Jack replied.

  Connie rolled a chair over to their desks as Jack and Laura sat back down. She then smiled at Jack. “There’s one good thing: I’m senior to you. My promotion came out on the Friday and yours wasn’t until Monday.”

  “That’s good. If we do something together and anything goes wrong, it’s the senior member who gets called up on the carpet.”

  Connie shook her head. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.” Jack paused. “What can we do for you?” Damn it. Don’t pretend you don’t know why she’s here. She knows Rose would’ve said she was coming. “I presume it’s about Vath,” he added quickly, “but I don’t know how else we can help.”

  Connie studied his face. “Do you really think someone from the U.S. killed him?”

  “It’s logical, considering he introduced me into the group down there.” Okay, her gaze is on my hands. Palms toward her, portraying innocence. Then again, she knows I’ve also had interrogation training.

  Sure enough, she sighed. “Let’s quit playing games.”

  Wish it were a game.

  “How did you meet Vath and get him to introduce you to his connections in the States?”

  “It was arranged through an informant.”

  “Once your cover was blown in the U.S., could your informant have killed Vath to protect himself?”

  “He could have, but how could he have found out? There were only a couple of hours between my cover being blown and Vath’s murder.”

  “Six hours,” Connie stated.

  “Okay, six, but there’s no way my guy could have known.” Not if I hadn’t had Natasha leave our house and call him on a burner phone.

  “Someone could have called him,” Connie said, locking eyes with Jack.

  “Check my phone tolls,” Jack replied. “It wasn’t me.”

  “I already did.”

  Thought so. “Guess I can’t get angry at you for being thorough. It’s what I respect about you. However, even if my informant did find out my cover was blown, I don’t think he’d have been worried.”

  “Bullshit. He introduced you … which means he had to vouch for you.”

  “My informant is with Satans Wrath. It wouldn’t be necessary for him to kill
Vath. Nobody would take Vath’s word over my informant’s.” Nobody except Whiskey Jake, another chapter president who knows enough that he’d likely clue in. “Not only that, Vath would have been too scared to point fingers, anyway, because of who my informant is. He wouldn’t have been that stupid.” Actually, he would. The guy was as dumb as they come.

  “Okay, so let me clear your informant. Have him come in and take a polygraph.”

  “Sorry, Connie. That’d never happen. He’d tell you to take a hike. It’s the biker code. His own guys would do a number on him if he co-operated with the police, because it would set a bad precedent for other bikers down the road.”

  “I’ll bet you could convince him. Nobody would need to know.”

  “There’s no way he’d go for it. Not only that, he’s not an informant anymore. I told him we were square after he introduced me to Vath.”

  “Isn’t that convenient,” Connie replied skeptically.

  Jack felt his phone vibrate — a perfect excuse. “Are we done? I have to take this call.”

  Connie nodded as Jack answered.

  “So, I hear things worked out really well for you in the States … except for them finding out you were a cop,” Lance stated.

  Jack recognized his informant’s voice and pressed the receiver tighter to his ear as he eyed Connie. Come on, Connie. Get up and go, will you? “Yes, it turned out okay.”

  “I know you said we’re done, but I’d like to meet with you one last time to say goodbye and make sure there isn’t any unfinished business.”

  “Hang on a sec.” Jack made eye contact with Connie. “I thought we were done. Is there anything else?”

  Connie locked eyes with Jack a moment, then said, “So if he’s not your informant anymore, you won’t care if he gets arrested. Right?”

  “Be my guest. I doubt I’ll ever see or hear from him again.”

  “All right … so be it,” Connie said, then left.

  “I’m back,” Jack said into the phone.

  “Were you talking about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t give a shit if I’m busted?”