Samurai Code (19 page)

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Authors: Don Easton

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Police Procedural, #Crime

BOOK: Samurai Code
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25

Natasha awoke half an hour before her alarm radio went off, and saw Jack’s head on the pillow next to hers, staring at her intently.

“You’re awake early,” she murmured. “I didn’t even hear you come in last night.”

“Was around two,” Jack replied. “Laura and I were entertaining a bad guy.”

“I see … so if I’m a bad girl, will you entertain me?” asked Natasha mischievously, before kissing Jack first on his chest and then on his mouth.

“Maybe,” said Jack, when she finished. “What type of entertainment do you prefer? Were you thinking PG or —”

“Forget that! How about triple X?”

Jack grinned and said, “I don’t know if I want the mother of my future children talking like that … although I have to admit, I am curious. Exactly what is triple X? Is it anything like a triple fudge sundae?”

Natasha put one finger on her chin as if in serious thought and replied, “I suppose it could involve a triple sundae. Might make a mess out of the sheets, though.”

“How about a little religious entertainment?”

“Religious?”

“You know, where we each make the other say ‘Oh, God!’”

Natasha’s grin faded quickly when she felt the fingers on Jack’s hand slowly caress up the inside of her thigh, cross her pubic mound, and glide up the side of her ribcage toward her breasts. She closed her eyes as his hand softly trailed back down her body, repeating the process, only now she felt his kisses trailing behind his hand. She tilted her head back as her lips parted in anticipation. Her body pushed upward wherever he kissed, urging him on.

His entry felt agonizingly slow and she relished the feeling, but soon found herself breathing heavily as her hips began to match the rhythmic beat of his and their tempo increased. Their lovemaking soon became a frenzy of soft cries of orgasmic delight as their bodies rolled on the bed, convulsing together as their hands sought each other’s backs and buttocks, pulling each other tighter as they felt the climax of their lovemaking reach its pinnacle.

After, Natasha lay with her head on Jack’s chest. She felt his fingers brush the hair from her eyes and his lips place a gentle kiss upon her forehead. She moaned when her radio turned on automatically, and, with great reluctance, left for the ensuite to ready herself for the day.

Later, upon re-entering the bedroom, she saw Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly twirling Melvin’s plastic rose in his hand. He looked worried.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

It was obvious his mind had been elsewhere and she had startled him. She watched as he put the rose back on the dresser and asked, “What were you thinking about?”

Jack gave a sheepish grin and said, “I was wondering when you would get pregnant. How long it would take now that you’re not —”

“Probably at least another month or two,” replied Natasha. She smiled and said, “You looked so serious, I was afraid something was wrong?”

“Everything is okay.”

“Something happening at work today?” she prodded.

Jack nodded. “Taking care of business,” he added.

Natasha knew that meant that whatever Jack was doing, it was dangerous. At one time he would never tell her when he was doing something dangerous, but then she found herself worrying all the time, often needlessly. They talked about it and he agreed he would be truthful about when she should worry and when she shouldn’t. It actually worked better. Sort of.

“Will you be late tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Call me when it’s over.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was not until Natasha was driving to work that she connected the dots. Why Jack was wondering when … or if she could be pregnant … and him doing something dangerous today.
He is worrying about leaving a widow behind. Worrying I could be pregnant at the same time …

She stopped at a traffic light and a feeling of panic overtook her.
The rose … it has to be about Melvin … and I pushed him into becoming involved. If he dies …
She felt the tears well up in her eyes.

Her cellphone rang and in her frustration she dumped the entire contents of her purse on the seat beside her to find it.

“I know you’re worrying,” Jack said as soon as she answered. “Wanted to remind you that I am very good at what I do.”

“I know that,” she replied, trying not to cry.

“Good. You should also know that since meeting you, my risk scale has dropped considerably. I have too much to live for. Once we have a family, it will be even more so. Just thought I should tell you.”

Natasha swallowed as she fought to keep her emotions under control before saying, “But whatever you’re doing, I know it involves Melvin and you’re doing it because of me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Melvin.” Jack paused and said, “Okay, maybe for Winston, too.”

Natasha was oblivious to the driver behind her who tapped the horn. She sighed.
This is the guy I married. Would I really want him to be any other way?

“You still there?” he asked.

“I’m still here,” she replied. “I’ll always be here for you. Make sure you do the same for me.”

***

It was one-thirty in the afternoon when Laura dropped Jack off in front of the office tower housing Intrinsic Global Investments.

“Perfect weather,” said Jack. “Windy, rainy —”

“You sure you want to do this?” Laura asked nervously.

“I think it will work,” replied Jack, taking off his windbreaker and tossing it back in the car. “I don’t see any other way to get to him. I’ll call you in an hour. If I don’t, then call me.”

“And if things go sideways?”

“Worried about handling Lee?” asked Jack.

“I can handle that little squirt.”

“I know you can, but remember, we’re supposed to be bad guys. This will work, trust me. Use the ski mask if you have to. It’s in the trunk.”

“But if it doesn’t work? What then? What do you want me to do?”

“Tell Natasha that I’m sorry and that I really loved her.”

“No, about me. What should I do if they kill you?”

“Obey your conscience. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

“Okay, if something happens to you, Lee is dead,” replied Laura solemnly. “You have my word on that.”

“No! That is not what I am telling you to do. You have a life to live. Don’t blow it by doing something stupid.”

“You mean, like you?”

“What I am about to do will work. It’s a calculated risk. Now, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Promise me you won’t get killed,” replied Laura, stubbornly.

26

Kang Lee answered the telephone on his desk. It was the receptionist who worked at the main entrance to Intrinsic Global Investments. Her voice sounded curious in a whimsical sort of way.

“Mister Lee, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you. He says he has never met you and doesn’t have an appointment, but —”

“I’m busy. Book him an appointment in about two weeks or call someone else.”

“He, uh, insisted that you would want to see him. He said
The Shaman
would be very upset if you didn’t see him immediately.” She caught the gasp on the other end of the phone and added, “Do you wish me to call extension 666 to, uh, assist?”

“No!” replied Lee quickly.
Who would dare say ‘The Shaman’ to anyone outside the circle? It has to be Goldie or Wang … whichever one will pay dearly.

“Mister Lee?”

“Security is not necessary,” he replied. “A practical joke involving an old friend. I’ll be right out.”

The startled look on Lee’s face was obvious when he stepped into the reception area and saw a stranger.

Jack held his hand out and said, “Hello, Kang. My name is Jack O’Donnell.”

Lee’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he shook hands.

“Is there a place where we can talk in private?” asked Jack.

“Certainly. Follow me, if you would,” replied Lee.

Moments later, Jack found himself in a large, glassed-in corner office that afforded a view overlooking much of downtown Vancouver, including Burrard Inlet. The office included a wet bar and seating area, but Lee sought refuge behind a mammoth black wooden desk with intricately carved legs and panels.

“Beautiful desk,” commented Jack.

“I discovered it in Bali,” said Lee. “What is it you wish to speak to me about? You mentioned some odd name … Mister Salmon or something?”

Jack smiled and said, “Oh, get off it, Kang. You know who I am and you certainly know who The Shaman is.”

“Perhaps I … have heard of you,” replied Lee coldly. “A mutual friend may have mentioned you.”

“If you’re talking about Arthur Goldie, he is no longer a friend of mine,” replied Jack.

“It was Mister Goldie who had spoken to me about you,” admitted Lee.

“In great depth, that I am certain,” said Jack, smiling.

“To some extent, yes. I understood that you were his friend?”

“That was before this morning, when a little birdie told me he was working for the police.”

“What? Impossible!” said Lee, partially rising from his chair, before regaining his composure and sitting back down. “I mean, what on earth for? What could that possibly have to do with me?” Before Jack could reply, Lee added, “I don’t believe it,” and folded his arms across his chest.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Jack. “I only came as a courtesy to warn you. From what Goldie told me, your … business is not unlike my own. Some day, perhaps, our paths will cross and you might be in a position to do me a favour. After all, you are The Enabler.”

A twitch of Lee’s eyelid expressed his distaste at Jack calling him that. “I still do not believe that Mister Goldie is the sort of person to, how should I put it, run to the police over some trivial matter.”

“From what I heard, it isn’t trivial. At least the Yanks don’t think so.”

“The Americans?” asked Lee. “What do they have to do with this? I’m not even sure Mister Goldie knows any.”

“He might not, but a man who works for him by the name of Purvis is well acquainted with an American living in Seattle. Arrests have not been made yet, but the DEA has applied to have Goldie extradited to the U.S. for conspiracy to traffic in heroin. American courts don’t like drug traffickers as much as judges in B.C. do. I am told he is looking at a minimum of twenty-five years … unless he co-operates with authorities. Which, I am told, is the path he has chosen.”

“And somehow you think it concerns me?”

“Perhaps the police are correct in their suspicions that Goldie is a liar,” said Jack. “In which case, I should not talk to you any further about what I heard. I am sorry if I wasted your time,” he added, getting up to leave.

“No! Please … wait. I do know Mister Goldie and naturally I am a little curious. I am also a cautious man.” Lee stared at Jack for a response that he understood.

“I see,” said Jack, sitting back down. “Then you would like me to tell you what I have heard?”

Lee nodded silently.

“Two days ago, Goldie was approached by someone from the RCMP Drug Section. Given the circumstances of his connection to a conspiracy charge in the U.S., he said he would inform on those people who were above him.”

“And you say that I am one of those people?”

“Yes.” Jack then went on to describe to Lee everything Goldie had told him when they had met at the Regal Beagle earlier in the week concerning commissions, enablers, and The Shaman.

“And your ‘birdie’ told you this is what he told the police?”

“Yes.”

“Why should I believe you? I do not think Mister Goldie would go to the police because the whole story is bogus. He told me he had spoken with you last Monday and told me about the ridiculous story he had told you. Apparently he believes you to be … well, shall we say, connected to some illegal activities. A belief he obtained from what some RCMP Intelligence officer told him. He was hoping to impress you with these lies. For whatever reason, it appears that you are now trying to ruin my friendship with Mister Goldie with this preposterous allegation that he went to the police.”

“I see,” replied Jack. “Maybe it would help if I told you some things that he didn’t tell me or likely include in his conversation with you.”

“Such as?”

Jack watched Lee carefully and said, “Such as him telling the police that you ordered him to take a homeless person to a park to be executed. He said there were three of you.”

Lee’s eyes widened and he put his hands on his lap as if he were about to be castrated.

The response was what Jack had hoped.
The bastard either did it, or was there. But why?
He faked a yawn and looked at Lee and said, “If all this is some bullshit story that Goldie made up to impress me, then you should be aware that he is telling the same story, with a little extra, to try and convince the police not to send him to prison.”

“I see,” uttered Lee.

“Either way, I would be damned careful if I were you that the next time you see him he isn’t trying to put words in your mouth.” Jack stood up and said, “Have a nice day,” before walking toward the door.

“Please, no, wait,” pleaded Lee. “What else did your friend tell you?”

Jack shrugged and said, “That was about it. I’ll be talking with my friend later.”

“Would you let me buy you a coffee or perhaps a drink? Go some place where we can talk, other than in my office? I think it would help for us to get to know each other better.”

Jack glanced at his watch and replied, “I told my girlfriend I was going to meet her but … what the hell. I’ll call her and tell her to go shopping instead.”

“Good. Please wait for me in the reception area. I need to cancel an appointment then I’ll be right with you.”

Jack called Laura from the reception area and said, “Lee is taking me for a drink. Don’t know where, but better cover the exit. If we come out together, then hang tough and wait for us to return. If you don’t hear from me by three-thirty, I’m in trouble.”

Yes, or dead.
“How’s it going?” asked Laura, deciding it was no use to state the obvious as she checked her watch. It was two-fifteen.

“Exactly as expected,” replied Jack.

“Sure you don’t want me to follow?”

“No, you’d need sunblock. Also can’t risk them grabbing you. You’re all I’ve got.”

It took several minutes after Jack hung up for Lee to appear, but when he did, he smiled at Jack and patted him on the back and said, “Come on, we’ll take my car.”

A smile and personal touch for reassurance … okay, asshole, what are you up to?
Jack smiled back and followed Lee into the elevator.

From a partially concealed spot, Laura was able to see Lee and Jack leave. Her fingers nervously beat the bottom of the steering wheel as if it were a bongo drum, but she remained where she was. Waiting and wondering was often the hardest part of the job.

Lee drove Jack to a wireless Internet cafe about fifteen minutes away and brought a laptop computer inside with him. Once they were seated, Lee asked, “You said something about the police having suspicions that Arthur is a liar. Can you expand upon that?”

“The police usually offer people the opportunity to inform, in the hope of catching a bigger criminal. Apparently it wouldn’t be the first time the police have caught someone who turns out to be the top person — who then fabricates a story to try and make someone else seem like the boss. My source says the police have already made discreet inquiries about you and are dubious that you are involved in anything illegal.”

“So they don’t really suspect me?” asked Lee, his face brightening for the first time since meeting Jack.

“They suspect that Goldie may have laundered some drug money through your company, likely without your knowledge. They think that is how he met you and is taking advantage of an international financial corporation to throw the police off the trail. The police know it would take years to prove, by which time it would be too late or impossible to charge Goldie if it was then discovered that he was lying.”

“Which, of course, he is,” said Lee, smugly.

Jack smiled and said, “Given the circumstances and the fact that you do not know me, I would also respond in the same manner that you now are.”

Lee looked indignant and said, “I’m telling you —”

Jack put up his hand indicating for him to stop and said, “I could care less if it is true or not. Goldie also talked to the police about me. He told them I am interested in purchasing a ton of heroin as an initial investment. The police … small-minded as they are,” he muttered, “think that quantity is too large to be believable. As a result, they think Goldie is lying about me and that he came up with my name only as a result of some RCMP Intelligence officer having made inquiries about me a few weeks back.”

“I heard about that,” said Lee.

Jack chuckled and said, “I bet you did.”

“And the story about a homeless person being murdered in a park? What of that? Do the police think it is something Goldie may have picked up on the news?”

“No, Goldie would be smart enough not to make such a blunder. It would be too easy for the police to know certain details that had not been released to the media.”

“So the police know that Goldie is telling the truth about that?”

“That he may have been there, sure. It is also a reason why they think he is lying about you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do the police. It doesn’t make sense why anyone in your position would be involved in such a ridiculous situation. They think it involved Goldie and his bartender, Purvis.”

“His bartender? Why?”

“They speculate that Purvis made a heroin transaction with someone in an alley, perhaps behind Goldie Locks, and then realized that the homeless person saw them. They think it more likely that Purvis took the witness somewhere else to be killed so as not to bring any heat down on the club. Goldie may have gone with him.”

“I see,” said Lee. “Then I am sure that is what did happen. It certainly did not involve me. As you say, it would be ridiculous.”

Jack smiled knowingly, openly betraying his belief that Lee was lying.

“Excuse me a moment,” said Lee, while flipping open his laptop. “Your unscheduled meeting interrupted some important business. I have to take care of some loose ends.”

***

It was three-thirty when Laura answered her cellular.
Nothing like waiting until the last minute …

“Hi, honey,” said Jack. “I’ll be a little late tonight. I’ll call you in an hour.”

A couple of minutes later, Laura saw Lee and Jack return to the underground parkade.

Laura breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the seat and waited. Her relief lasted until four-thirty before she held her cellphone in her hand.
Come on, Jack, call!
Five minutes later she dialed Jack’s cellular. There was no answer.

She redialed.
Damn it, Jack! Pick up!

Laura had no idea that Jack had left the parkade an hour earlier. He was driven out in the back of a cargo van, naked, and with a gun stuck in his ear.

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