Birds of a Feather (8 page)

“Sounds interesting. Keep digging while I try to decide what to do.”

Slater dug for another couple of minutes before Jack cooled off enough to stop enjoying the vengeance and get back to the task at hand. “Okay, I was just fucking with you. I wanted to make sure you got the point to never fuck with me. Climb out of there and refill the hole.”

Slater started to weep. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I got some things to tell you, but I don't have all night, so hurry up.” Jack reached out his hand and Slater took it to help himself climb out.

Jack waited as Slater, who had discovered new energy, quickly started to refill the hole. “First thing I'm going to tell you,” said Jack, “is never tell anyone … and I mean
anyone
, about tonight.”

“I won't. Just … thank you for not killing me.”

“Yeah, I've always thought of myself as a good guy, although some might disagree.” Jack remained quiet until Slater had refilled the hole and said,
“¿Habla usted español?”

“What? No. Just
gracias
.”

“For a guy who hangs out with Mexicans, you really are a dumb fuck. The Spanish word for uncle is
tio
. It sounds like T-O. The guy you were listening to was talking to his uncle.”

“I didn't know that.”

“For now, we will still call him Tio … but I want to meet him in person. You need to arrange it.”

“Why? I mean … after tonight, I don't want anything to do with this business. I'm quitting. You guys don't need to look at me as competition anymore.”

“We don't give a rat's ass about you. This is about Tio. We want to go into business with him. Once you introduce him to me, you can jump off a bridge for all I care, but until then, you better do what we want. We know the Mexicans have been sellin' coke on the streets cheaper than ours. That means they're getting it at a way cheaper price than we've been getting from the fuckin' Colombians. Get word to Tio we handle about three or four ton a year. That should spark his interest.”

“Okay, sure, I'll contact one of his guys and let him know.”

Jack had a major concern. He knew permission to go to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, would never be approved because the police there were too corrupt and it would be deemed too dangerous. He would have to try and convince Tio to come to the U.S.

“There is one other thing Tio needs to know,” said Jack. “I was in Mexico about a year ago and got into a little shit and used a chair to lay a beating on a couple of Federales who tried to arrest me. I think one guy was hurt real bad. I don't know how the situation stands for me there now. Tell Tio I want to meet him on the U.S. side of the border.” Jack felt it was a lame excuse, but at the moment he couldn't think of anything better.

Jack, carrying the shovel, returned with Slater to the car where they continued to talk some more. Jack also had him go over the details again. His purpose was not only to ensure he had been given the correct information, but it was to give Slater a chance to calm down before driving.

Jack also used the opportunity to impress upon Slater the need for secrecy and told him that even with other members of Satans Wrath, it was still on a need-to-know basis.

It was midnight when Jack had Slater drive him back and park a block away from the Satans Wrath clubhouse.

“Here is good,” said Jack. “I don't want you ever coming here again. The cops monitor our clubhouse a lot. I don't want them, or anyone else knowing we're connected. It will be safer for everyone in the long run.”

“What about the cellphone number you gave me? Is it cool?”

“I don't trust any phone. If you call me, simply say you're interested in a game of squash and we can meet at The Racquet Club.”

“Okay.”

“How long do you think it will be before you hear back from Tio?”

“I don't know. I'll call my contact tomorrow morning. After that I'll have to wait. It might only take a few minutes for them to pass it on to Tio, or maybe it could take a couple of days. I've never spoken to Tio. I just know he's the big boss. I have no control over him.”

“Understood, but make sure Tio knows we are his equals. I won't deal with some peon over this matter.”

“Oh, I'm sure he'll know that. Everybody in the world knows about you guys.”

Jack thought about asking Slater who his contact in Canada was, along with the names of his contacts in El Paso, but he knew to push for more information now might raise suspicion.
All in good time …

“I expect you to get on it immediately.”

“I will, but, uh, if he isn't interested, I mean, you know, I'll tell him he could make a lot of money through you guys, but, what if —”

“If he turns us down, we would consider it a declaration of war,” snarled Jack.

“Oh,” replied Slater softly. “I'll do my best.”

“I'm sure you will. I'll come by your place at noon to see how you made out. And like I said before, we don't want anyone to know we are thinking of going in with the Mexicans. For now, I will be the only contact. We don't want word of this getting out.”

“I won't tell a soul.”

“Make sure you tell your Mexican contacts to keep their mouths shut and only deal through me, as well. At least for now.”

Jack checked his watch as he drove home. He knew it was too late to be checking with the American authorities in El Paso to see if they had any recent unidentified female bodies.

And if they don't have any recent bodies from a motel … then where is she?

_____

Jack arrived home and checked on Mikey, who was asleep in his crib. He then stuck his head in his own bedroom.

“You're home,” murmured Natasha, awakened by the door opening.

“Home, but not done. I've got a couple hours of notes to do. How is Mikey?”

“He's okay. I think he's better.”

Jack took off his gun and put it on his dresser. He would have talked some more, but Natasha's breathing told him she had gone back to sleep. He went to the den and made notes about what he had learned.

Tomorrow morning he would call CC and meet with her and Wilson, but first there was something else he wanted to check.

Jack had heard for years about the hundreds of women who were disappearing or being found murdered around Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. He turned on his computer to search the Web.

It didn't take long to find a mass of material relating to the missing women. There had been hundreds. In a few instances there had been arrests, with a few bus drivers being implicated, but for the most part it was a war zone.

Armed cartel members kidnapped women in broad daylight without fear of repercussion. A few were unceremoniously dumped back on the street a day or two later, but many others were murdered and found in shallow graves or laying in drainage ditches outside the city. One woman was found with one breast cut off with a knife and the other bitten off.

Jack sighed and turned the computer off and went to bed. As he lay there, he thought about Slater and his admission that he told the Mexicans where Lily Rae was. He knew there was nothing he could legally do to Slater over what he had been told and the frustration burned inside him.

He did not want to think about what had happened to a naive young girl from Canada by the name of Lily Rae. He did not want to think about it … but he did.

It was a long night.

Probably should have killed the bastard …

Slater's night was worse. He went home and saw his girlfriend sitting on the sofa watching a movie.

“Where the fuck were you?” she yelled. “You couldn't even bother to call me?”

“I was busy. I forgot to phone you.”

“You were too busy to take a minute and call me? What was her name?”

“I wasn't with a girl.”

“Yeah, I just bet you … fuck! Look at you! I can believe you weren't with a girl. Maybe a pig. You got dirt all over you. What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You were doing something. God, you stink, too. What was it?”

“I met some guy. We did a lot of talking.”

“How did you get so dirty?”

“I fell in a hole. We were walking and I fell in.”

“So you were stoned.”

“No, it just happened.”

“Well it sure as hell is too late to go to dinner now. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Your voice sounds weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Monotone. You remind me of my grade eight history teacher.”

“I'm tired.”

“Me too. But I'm also fuckin' hungry.”

“How about I make you an omelette?”

“Yeah, okay … but shower first. You really reek of B-O.”

Later, Slater went to the kitchen in his bathrobe and opened a carton of eggs.

“So who was this guy you spent all night talking to?” his girlfriend asked.

“Just somebody I met. It's business. I can't talk about it,” replied Slater.

“That's what you always say when you don't want to explain what you've been up to. Hope you don't mind me saying this, but I really get the feeling you're shovelling me a load of crap.”

Apparently Slater did mind. A hysterical cry emitted from his mouth and he repeatedly grabbed at the eggs with both hands, squeezing and crushing them as the broken bits of eggshell and yolk ran through his fingers.

It was nine o'clock Sunday morning when Connie Crane and Wilson arrived together at Jack's office.

“Well, we're here,” said Connie. “When you called this morning, you woke me up. You did say Slater spilled his guts to you and we needed to talk. I heard right, didn't I? At first I thought I was dreaming.”

“You weren't dreaming,” replied Jack.

“Yeah? Well it better be good. Today would have been my first day off in two weeks.”

“I don't know if it's good news,” replied Jack, “but it's informative. Yesterday I met him through The Racquet Club and pretended to be a member of Satans Wrath. I said we had a business proposition for him.”

“You told him you were with the club and he believed you?” asked Connie.

“I had him swing by the clubhouse after to meet me. I used Sammy from Drug Section in a quick UC to direct him down the street and park. I then sat in his car with him and he presumed I came out of the clubhouse.”

“Pretty smooth,” chuckled Wilson. “Better hope Satans Wrath never finds out.”

Jack nodded in agreement.

“So what did you say to him?” asked Connie.

“I offered him a chance to go into business together.”

“With Satans Wrath?” exclaimed Wilson. “What if he goes to them looking for you?”

“I am a little concerned about that,” admitted Jack. “When I used the ruse on him, I didn't expect it would turn into any long-term project. I was hoping a day or two would be all we needed to find Lily.”

“So your cover story may not hold up for long,” noted Wilson.

“For the short term I feel comfortable with it. I made a point of telling Slater to only deal with me. I've got a feeling he will do what I tell him.”

“So then he opened up to you?” asked Connie, suspiciously. “He trusted you just like that?”

“Are you kidding? He was practically on his knees begging to work with me.”

Connie stared at Jack, then opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind.

“So, let me tell you what I learned,” continued Jack.

Over the next half hour, Connie and Wilson each jotted down notes as Jack outlined what he had learned from Slater.

“I would never have believed he would open up so quickly upon meeting you,” said Wilson. “You must have been pretty convincing.”

“I guess he thought so.”

“From what you have said, it sounded like the two of you had a really amiable conversation,” said Connie, watching Jack closely. “Maybe we could use his admission against him as evidence.”

“Uh …”

“Or when you said he was practically on his knees begging, should I take that literally?”

“Well, it was sort of literal,” admitted Jack.

“Christ! I thought so! What did you do to the poor son of a bitch?”

“What do you mean the poor son of a bitch?” growled Jack. “He doesn't deserve any pity. He set up Porter to be killed … which personally I am quite happy about, but he also set up Lily.”

“But what did you —”

“Anything I did to him was strictly psychological,” responded Jack, tersely. “I didn't hurt him physically. That's all you need to know.”

“I think that's all I want to know,” replied Connie, quietly.

“However you did it, your information is a huge lead,” said Wilson. “I really appreciate it. With what we saw in the apartment security cameras it fits. I think Slater was being truthful to you.”

“Oh, I'm sure he was,” replied Jack. “He knows he'd be digging himself a hole he couldn't get out of if he was lying to Satans Wrath.”

“And he thinks Tio sent a hit team up from Mexico, whacked Porter, and then skedaddled back to Mexico?” noted Wilson.

“That's what Slater believes. He says Tio does have Mexicans living here and distributing cocaine, but after Porter fled from the motel, one of Tio's men called and told him they were going to send a team up to Canada to take care of Porter. Also explains why the killers didn't worry about the security cameras. I bet they headed south the same day.”

“We still have both of Porter's vehicles impounded,” said Wilson. “I'll get the mechanics to take another look at his truck. See if it has a secondary deck in the back.”

“Too bad you didn't know what motel Lily Rae was in at the time,” said Connie. “Might have given us more of a lead if she was taken someplace else to be killed.”

“Let's hope she hasn't been murdered,” said Jack quietly.

“And from how these guys operate,” said Wilson, “if they were going to kill her, I don't see them as the type to worry about hiding any bodies. At least, not driving a victim out to … how did Slater put it? A trailer?”

“Way to hell and gone out into the desert to some mobile trailer,” said Jack.

“Exactly,” said Connie. “If she's dead, the U.S. probably already has her body. I'll get on the horn today with the FBI and whatever other law enforcement agencies they have down there. Let's see if they have any unidentified victims who match Lily's description.” She looked at Jack and added, “Not that I'm giving up hope. Just doing my job.”

“I know,” said Jack. “It's also Sunday morning. What do you think your chances are of finding out today?”

“Let's find out,” said Connie.

Everyone was quiet as Connie started making phone calls, first to the FBI, then the state police, Texas Rangers, and finally the El Paso Police Department.

Her responses were much the same. Nobody was aware, offhand, of any victims fitting Lily's description, but each suggested it would be better to go through channels on Monday when the regular staff were on duty and could give a more informed answer.

It gave the Canadian investigators some sense of hope.

Over the next two hours, Jack, Connie, and Wilson completed reports, along with an operational plan to be approved by the brass. The basis for the plan rested on an attached report submitted by Jack that said while acting in an undercover capacity and portraying an image of an outlaw biker, he had befriended Clive Slater. His report then listed what Slater had told him.

Connie reviewed Jack's report and said, “You befriended him?”

“I've never met anyone who wanted so badly to be my friend,” replied Jack.

“Yeah, I can only imagine. Would you mind if I added that Slater possibly might have felt intimidated by your role and the Crown would no doubt feel a conviction against him would be unlikely?”

“Knowing our justice system as I do, what you just said sounds most probable.” Jack lowered his voice, cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and in a staged whisper added, “I did yell at him.”

“Got a feeling that's not all you did,” she replied, going back to work on the operational plan. When she was finished, the plan called for:

• Jack's undercover scenario to continue in the hope of identifying Tio and perhaps some of the men who worked for him in Canada. If Jack's undercover role led to the identification of Tio and his men, then his UC role would be finished unless circumstances indicated Jack might be successful in finding Lily Rae or her body.
  
• Permission for Jack to go to El Paso was requested should it be deemed necessary, along with a request the Americans be asked through the appropriate channels to provide assistance for his protection should that happen.
  
• That the Vancouver RCMP Drug Section work jointly on the project to take over the drug-trafficking aspect of the investigation.
  
• That Drug Section and Proceeds of Crime investigators would likely be required to travel to El Paso to gather evidence to support cocaine importation and money-laundering charges against the people in Canada. Should that be necessary, they would submit their own request in due course, while still bearing in mind their evidence might be needed to explain the motive behind Porter's murder at a trial in Canada. It was stressed the investigators from the different units would need to work closely together.
  
• It was further recommended that if the two suspects on the security camera in Porter's apartment were identified and arrested in El Paso, then permission was requested for Connie and Wilson to travel to El Paso to work with the American authorities and take part in any interrogations. Extradition proceeding would also be initiated.
  
• If it was learned that Lily Rae was murdered in El Paso, the United States would deal with it as it would be in their jurisdiction. In this case, Connie and Wilson would also work with the Amer-ican investigators, as evidence obtained in Canada concerning Porter's murder might be needed in the United States or visa versa. The Canadian investigators would also look into the possibility that the U.S. judicial system might allow for Slater to be used as a probable hostile witness at criminal proceedings in the U.S.
  

It was noon when Jack went over to Slater's apartment and buzzed the intercom.

“Who is it?” asked a female voice.

“My name is Jack. I'm, uh, Clive's friend. Is he in?”

“You're his friend? Good, then come on up.”

Minutes later, Jack was let into Slater's apartment by a young woman.

“Is he here?” asked Jack.

“Fuck, no.”

“Do you —”

“I don't know where he is. He took off this morning. If you're his friend you can hang around and tell him it's over between us. I'm splitting,” she said, stomping into the bedroom where she continued to throw clothes into a suitcase on the bed.

“Any idea when he might be back?” asked Jack.

“Nope and I don't care. The guy's a fuckin' nutcase.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, for starters, he came home last night all covered in dirt and then had a meltdown.”

“A meltdown?”

“Oh, yeah. A real doozie. He started smashing eggs and crying like a baby. I took him to the hospital and some shrink talked to him for an hour.”

“Really? I wonder what that was all about? Did he say?”

“No, he wouldn't talk to the shrink … or to me. They gave him some pills to take, which he wouldn't, so I end up driving him back home at four o'clock this morning. Then at eight he tells me he's going out. ‘It's Sunday morning,' I say. ‘Where ya going?' Like that is too much to ask. He tells me it's none of my fucking business. Well, you can tell him it really ain't none of my fucking business because I'm done with him.”

Seconds later, Jack watched as she dragged the suitcase off the bed and stormed out of the apartment, leaving Jack alone.

Jack quickly locked the apartment door and started to search. He knew the search was illegal and anything he found would not be allowed as evidence, but decided as Slater already had a get-out-of-jail-free card, it really didn't matter.

A short time later, he hauled what seemed like an empty suitcase down off a shelf in the closet. In and outside pocket of the suitcase he found a hand-drawn map. On it were the initials
EP-W-CR14-12-U-L
. Above the initial
U
was a string of dotted lines coming up to a pile of small lines in a haphazard pattern with an
X
over one of them.

Jack recalled the house trailer out in the desert that Slater had mentioned to him and speculated the map was instructions on how to get to it. Slater had told him he didn't think the trailer was being used, but decided to copy it into his notebook, regardless. He had most of the pertinent details down when he heard the apartment door being unlocked.

Slater was startled to see Jack standing in the doorway to his kitchen.

“Your girlfriend let me in,” he explained. “She said to tell you she's out of here. She packed a suitcase and just left. I'm surprised you didn't bump into her in the hallway.”

“I couldn't care less about her,” replied Slater.

“I was about to look and see if you had any coffee.”

“Yeah, I'll get it,” replied Slater, walking into the kitchen and opening a cupboard.

“I understand you lost it when you got home last night.”

“Yeah, I guess. I'm okay now. I just, uh, never had that experience before.”

His words sounded robotic and his face was without emotion. Jack knew it would be a long time, if ever, before Slater would be okay. “So how did you make out this morning?” he asked.

“I think you guys should be happy,” replied Slater. “I met with my Canadian contact and told him what you told me to say. He made me wait while he emailed someone in a chat room who I guess then had to go to another computer and email someone else. Anyway, eventually the message was passed on to Tio. He had a couple of questions and we had to go through the whole process again, but in the end, he said he is willing to meet you in person.”

“I thought he would be,” replied Jack evenly, while controlling the excitement he felt. “What questions did he have?”

“He wanted to know how I met you, so … well, you said not to tell anyone about last night. So I lied to them and said I've known you all my life. I told them you were my cousin. Is that all right?”

“Yeah … it's perfect. You did really well.”
They'll probably kill you for that later …

“He also wanted to know why I hadn't mentioned you before. I said I had never said anything to him or you because I was afraid you guys would look at each other as competition. Then I said when you invited me over to the clubhouse yesterday, you mentioned you guys were really unhappy with the Colombians. I said I told you I knew a guy in Mexico who could help and that one thing led to another and you wanted to meet him.”

“Excellent. So when and where do I meet him?”

“He said you're to go to El Paso. One week from Wednesday.”

“Ten days from now,” noted Jack. “I wonder why then and not sooner?”

“I think because I'm supposed to make a delivery down there at the same time. He said for us to check in at a place called the Armadillo Motel and he would arrange for you to see him.”