My face said: how?
“You worked in the Guelph Police Services?”
“Yes.”
“And according to this you worked in Drugs and Intelligence.”
Uh? “Sorry, what was that you said?”
“The file we received from Guelph Police Services said you worked in Drugs and Intelligence.”
“It does?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
It must be a clerical error. Someone had made a mistake.
Was it that assistant who had dozens of trolls on her desk? Was she getting back at me for calling her trolls miniature freaks of nature? They were tiny people who had black eyes and a permanent smile on their faces.
“Actually, sir…” I started.
“The information provided by them assisted greatly in your transfer over here.”
“It did?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no, no,” I waved my finger. “That information is absolutely, positively, without a doubt…information.”
Something occurred to me. “I can’t be in the squad. I’m not even a constable.”
“Under certain situations, exceptions can be made. I received the letter from Detective Sergeant Andrew Aldrich and the Deputy Chief of Central Field Command backed it up. Important people, Jon.”
“What if I wrote to the Chief,” I said. “She’ll do something.”
“You don’t want to involve her, Jon. I don’t think she’ll override the Deputy Chief’s authority.”
Motley stood and walked up beside me; with his voice low, soothing, fatherly, he said, “Jon, you can always come back if you screw up, you know that.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, “Yes, I know.”
After collecting myself, I said, “When do I leave?”
“Now,” he said. “You’re to be briefed at eleven at the Central Command Headquarters.”
I took a deep breath. “I won’t let you down, sir.”
“I know,” he said. “And Jon, you better go plain.”
Without my uniform.
I left his office and headed out. Roberta saw me.
“So, what happened?” she said, a worried look over her face. “I think everyone heard you scream.”
“I’m going to be in the drug unit,” I said.
“Oh, my…” she covered her mouth. “But…”
I held up my hand. “There are always exceptions.”
“When do you-”
“Right now.”
She got up, went around her desk, and hugged me. “Good luck. Call me if you need me.”
***
Ms. Zee looked out onto the silent street. Every so often a car would drive by. She had counted three in the last ten minutes. The neighbourhood was quiet, which was why she had chosen it as their so-called base. So far they had had no trouble.
Kong was in the room, and Joey was still in the adjacent room. They would not tell him about Armand’s death, but he was smart, and when Armand did not return…
Joey. It had been a mistake bringing him into the operation. He was supposed to watch Armand. Instead, Armand had played them like fools.
When they met, he had promised so much, a product that would revolutionize the drug business. It was only when he kept asking for more time that she became suspicious. She had the previous batches tested and found that each was missing a component.
She sighed.
This was not going as planned. She knew they had successfully created the drug at Bantam, and she’d been certain they’d have the prototype by now. Different versions were already sent out to potential buyers. But nothing could happen until she had one that was as potent and lethal as they had claimed it would be.
There were so many pressures. She rubbed her temples. So many forces were pushing her in all directions. But if her plan worked, she could control the entire city.
Kong crossed his arms. She understood. He was unhappy about Joey.
No, Kong,” she said, still not looking away from the window. “We cannot kill him.”
Kong snorted his disapproval.
“Not just yet. We need someone else who can continue the work.”
Two men entered the room. She turned. One was white and the other brown. The white man had limp blond hair, as if he’d just come out of the shower, and a long goatee. He looked like someone who was used to taking orders. The brown man had a flat boxer’s nose and earrings in both ears. He looked like someone who would rather spend time with his car then people.
“It’s done,” said the white man.
She had sent them to dispose of Armand’s body.
“Where?” she asked.
“Scarborough Bluffs,” the white man answered.
“Good.”
Another man entered. He was wearing a blue striped business suit; stylish round spectacles were propped up on his nose, and his hair was gelled back.
“Ms. Zee,” said Martin, her lawyer and business advisor. “You do remember your meeting today?”
Ms. Zee nodded. “Yes.” She turned to the white man. “Hause, you’ll be with us and,” She turned to the brown man, “Suraj, you’ll follow behind.”
Kong made a noise.
“Kong,” Ms. Zee turned to him. “You’ll stay here and watch Joey.”
He grunted.
“You will behave yourself,” she said.
He was not happy.
“When I come back Joey better be in one piece.”
FIVE
I looked at my watch and realized I had only forty minutes. I drove back home, changed quickly into a blue shirt, cargo pants, and a brown jacket, and left without saying goodbye to Michael Jordan.
As I was out the door I saw my landlady on top of the roof.
What the hell?
“Morning,” I yelled.
“Hello, Jon,” she said, waving.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning the gutter, too many dirty leaves is not good. Rain makes problems.”
I understood. The leaves were clogging the trough.
“Be careful. You don’t want to fall.”
“I’ll be okay.” She smiled.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
My mother always taught me to help others, especially if they are your sixty-one-year-old landlady.
I grabbed the ladder and got on top of the roof.
“Where’s David?” I said.
“He’s gone to work,” she replied.
“You go down,” I said pointing.
“No, no. It’s okay. I can do it.”
“No. I’ll clean everything but you don’t come up.” I felt obligated to do it right then because earlier I had complained about a leaky roof. She climbed down.
I grabbed a plastic bag, and gathered all the nearly decomposed leaves. Once I was satisfied the trough was cleared I came down.
“Jon, I can do it,” she said.
“You call David next time,” I said and left.
***
I drove straight to the Central Field Command Headquarters. Inside, I was directed to a room.
I gently tapped.
The door swung open and a huge man with spiked hair stood facing me. “You’re late,” he growled.
“Old lady…roof…leaves…”
“Get in,” he said.
The room was bare, with ten or twelve chairs, facing a large board. At the front, a man paced impatiently. There were six other people sitting, as if waiting for something…or someone.
The man stopped pacing and stood with his chest and shoulders high, like a proud general before his troops. He had blond hair, a thin golden moustache, and an upward pointy nose.
“We can finally begin,” he said, looking in my direction.
What a happy start.
I took the nearest seat.
The blond man crossed his hands on his back and began, “I’m Detective Sergeant Andrew Aldrich. Last night I received a call from the Chief to lead a new task force. Most of you know that our drug squad is going through a tough period and will not be fully functional until the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) completes its investigation. But that does not mean our battle with drugs and narcotics ceases. That is why you were called in to this new task force-to stop this new group that threatens our fine city. You’re all here because you’ve shown interest in fighting drugs…”