Where did he get that kind of money? Not as a police officer, I was sure.
I glared at him.
Maybe, Phillip, it’s because you’re a corrupt cop, taking money from drug dealers so you can live a life of luxury.
He flipped the page and in doing so glanced at me. I lowered my eyes to my toast.
Think about your wife and kids, Phillip. Wait, your wife is in cahoots with you. Where does she keep your money? Maybe, she is a victim. Yes. She has no choice but to follow you. You fiend!
He flipped the page again. “Breakfast okay?” he asked, smiling.
“Oh, yes. Just perfect.”
Yes, keep smiling, you well-dressed dictator.
He scanned the last page and placed the neatly folded paper on the table.
“Everything satisfactory yesterday?” he said. “Amy told me you came home last night looking distressed.”
Why do you care?
I said nothing.
“I’ve been made aware that Constable Barnes is now at home,” he said. “He’s doing much better. He doesn’t remember much, I’m afraid. But the force is not placing any pressure on him until he has fully recovered. If you like you can visit him.”
I nodded.
Ed Burrows stormed into the office. He was smiling from end-to-end. “We have it!” he said.
He placed a small navy-blue tray with a dozen square white tablets in front of her. Ms. Zee leaned over to pick one up when Burrows stopped her.
“Not with your fingers,” he said, handing her a small instrument that looked like a tweezer.
She plucked one up and brought it close to her. Her hand trembled at the thought of finally holding Nex.
Burrows spoke, “This is our finest batch. The ingredients acted positively to the process. I feel we should have compliance.” Ms. Zee knew that meant the drug would give the result they required. “But we do need to test it. Until then we cannot be one-hundred percent certain.” What that meant was they needed a guinea pig, someone who would voluntarily or-involuntarily-test the drug.
She thought about Joey. With a little persistence he would have been popping down the tablets like M amp;Ms. But he was no longer available. It then suddenly dawned on her, Regent Park.
“I’ll send Martin,” she said. “No-wait. I’ll go.” She wanted to personally see Marcus’ face when he saw she had the drug.
In Thorncliffe Park searching for a parking place, I wished I had my parking enforcement cruiser. I could have parked anywhere.
A purplish van exited a spot and I immediately took it. I went up the elevators to the fifteenth floor. I found Barnes’ apartment and knocked.
A pretty girl, in her early twenties, answered the door.
“Hi,” I said. “My name is Jon Rupret…”
“Yes, Michael mentioned you were coming,” she said. “Come in.”
I went in and the smell of something cooking penetrated my nostrils.
“Michael is in the bedroom.” She led me down the hall and into the room.
I found Michael Barnes propped up in bed watching TV. He looked up and a smile crossed his face.
“Hey, man,” he said. “How are you doing?”
“Better than you,” I said.
“Have a seat.”
I sat on the single chair opposite the bed.
The girl behind me said, “Michael, can I get you anything?”
“No, honey, I’m fine,” he said and she went away.
He leaned over to me and whispered, “So what do you think of her? She nice?”
She seemed polite and was very pretty. “Sure,” I said.
His smile widened. “My mom told me she was at the hospital every day. She was at my bedside hoping and praying for my recovery. I didn’t realize it but I love her so much.” He faced the television and waited for the commercials to come. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“That’s great,” I said. I paused and then said, “I’m sorry about what happened that night.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “You know what’s strange? I don’t remember much.”
“Yeah, Beadsworth told me.”
“But you know what?” he said glancing back to the TV. “I do remember going there with you but I don’t remember anything after that except for…” he trailed off.
“Except for what?” I asked trying to get his attention.
“Uh…yeah. Except once in a while I see a bald head.”
“Bald head?”
“A big shiny bald head. I don’t know why.”
“Is there a face attached to it?”
“I hope so. But I don’t see it. It’s blurred.” He shut his eyes and then opened them. “At the hospital I was on some heavy-duty drugs and I got these funky dreams where I’m at the House of Jam-but, it’s not really the House of Jam but a weird, psychedelic kind of club. I’m either with you or my partner, Carlos, or sometimes even with Detective Garnett.”
“That’s not a dream. That’s a nightmare.”
“But every time it’s like this bald head is coming after me. Chasing me.”
“Does it catch you?” I said, fishing for some clue.
“I don’t know-I guess so.”
His mind was going back to the TV.
I had decided it was time to go, when he said, “What happened to RACE? Did you guys catch them? Carlos never talks about them.”
I didn’t know where to begin. Operation Anti-RACE was no longer operational and our main witness was dead. For all we knew, Nex was already out on the streets. But I couldn’t tell him all this. Not in his condition.
“We’re making progress,” I said. I got up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You make good progress too, okay?”
He smiled and thanked me for coming and then went back to watching TV.
I got back downtown, called Cal Murray, and after a few rings he answered. I told him I wanted a talk with him. After a little begging he agreed.
I waited behind the House of Jam until he showed up. “I don’t have much time, but come,” he said.
We went up the flight of stairs, through the narrow hall and into his office.
“This hot rapper from Scarborough will be coming down to promote his new CD and we’ve got a lot of promotional stuff to do.”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Altar Boy. You might not have heard of him yet, but he’ll be the next big thing.”
He went around his desk and sat down. “Have a seat,” he offered.
I saw the oh-so-familiar sofa and my mind flashed back to the time I had nearly lost my hear to it.
“I’ll stand,” I said.
Cal said, “It was nice of you guys not to launch an investigation after the attack. It would have given this place a bad rep. How’s he doing, anyways?”
“Constable Barnes is recovering,” I said. I was about to ask him a question when he interrupted me.
“Who was it that did it?”
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“You guys did catch whoever attacked the officer?”
“Not yet-that’s not why I’m here-”
“-That’s not possible,” he said, taken aback. “You have the videotapes from that night.”
“Not all,” I corrected him. “We’re missing the one that recorded the attack.”
“That’s not possible,” he puffed. “I handed all the tapes to the police.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all. Even before I had a chance to view them, someone came and took them.”
“Who? Can you remember?”
His eyes darted from one end of the desk to the other. He was thinking hard. “Yes, of course,” he said. “It was your partner.”
“Sorry?” I said startled. “Who?”
“Your partner. With the beard and the slight accent. I gave both of you the tour of the club. Remember?”
I found myself losing breath and getting dizzy. “Do you mind if I sit down?” Before he answered, I fell on the sofa. My mind was reeling. This was too much. I suspected Beadsworth was up to something illegal but this was tampering with evidence.
I spoke with laboured breath, “Are you sure it was Phillip Beadsworth?”
“Yes,” he said, recognizing the name. “He came up to my office and demanded I give him all the camera tapes, and assured me there would be no investigation if I did.”