Torque (36 page)

A man on the beach was also looking at
it.

Bailey brought his rifle up and looked
through the telescopic site. It had to be one of the two suspects
who had gone into the river. His hair and jacket were wet and,
strangely, he wasn’t wearing pants. All he had on from the waist
down were his sodden boots and white underwear. That water must be
really turbulent.

“This is Delta 1. I have one of the swimmers
in view.”

“Roger Delta 1. Stay with him.”

The man turned to walk up the beach and
Bailey now saw he had a bag. Perhaps his pants were in there. The
man stopped again and bent over. Bailey lowered the site to follow
the man’s hand. It grasped a shotgun.

“Delta 1. The swimmer has a shotgun. Repeat.
The swimmer has a shotgun.”

“Acquire target, Delta 1. Maintain
contact.”

Acquire target. Maintain contact.

Bailey brought the man’s face into sharp
focus behind the etched reticles of the sight. Accuracy was not in
question at this range. Head or heart. He could even aim for the
neck and sever the man’s spinal column. All three would be instant
kills though the spinal column would take more finesse.

Have you ever shot a suspect?

No.

Would you really kill somebody?

Yes.

The man was standing upright now, almost
still. He had a mole on his neck. Bailey curled his finger around
the trigger. The script for those hockey night bull sessions was
about to be rewritten.

== == ==

Kim skidded to a stop at the warming hut and
dumped the bike. She ran inside but their sanctuary from the night
before was empty. She ran down the access path to the river,
spotting the marks the ATV had left and the disturbed stones where
it had careened into the water. Just downriver she saw it, or
rather the part of the roll cage that wasn’t submerged and one
wheel.

The helicopter was hovering over the far bank
just past the rapids. Then she noticed Fenn. He was bending over
something on the beach.

“Chas!”

He straightened up but didn’t react to her
call. The combined noise from the chopper and the river was pretty
loud. She called again and waved her arms. Now he saw her. He had
something in each hand so didn’t wave back but he did start walking
toward her. There was something different about him.

“My kilt,” she muttered. Then, “Chas, where’s
my kilt?”

Fenn looked down at his bare legs and gave a
crooked grin. “Um, well. It’s like this.”

“Like what?”

“It was, um, a casualty of war.”

“Geez. I knew I should have kept it on.”

“At least you’ve got pants to wear,”
protested Fenn, swinging the shotgun around to point at her jeans.
A second later there was a loud crack from above and Fenn fell to
the ground, the bag landing in front of him. Kim took two staggered
steps before her legs gave way and she fell to her knees.

Oh, God. No.

She put her face in her hands and started to
weep. She could take no more.

CHAPTER
53

Monday, November 2nd,
10:15 a.m.

Asha stood beside the coffin and dabbed the
corner of her eye with a tissue. Fenn looked peaceful in repose,
hands folded on his chest and his head on the little silk pillow.
She leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Good night, Sweet Prince,” she said, and
closed the lid.

Asha turned to the funeral attendant standing
patiently at her side. “Is there any way to lock these things?”

The man gave her an understanding smile and
shook his head.

“Too bad.”

“I heard that,” came a muffled voice from
behind her. The coffin lid opened and Fenn sat up. “We’ll take this
one. Now, where do you keep the urns?” He climbed out and sat on a
chair to put his boots back on.

“If this is none of my business, Chas, then
say so,” Asha said, “but I don’t understand why you’re going to
such expense to bury your father. I mean, he wasn’t there for most
of your life, and when he did show up he dumped a world of trouble
in your lap.”

Fenn thought about that while he tied his
laces.

“You are absolutely right—it appears that he
was a self-serving bastard who used me solely for his own agenda.
However, I also think he wanted to make amends. He chose a strange
way to go about it—damn near tragic for those I care about—yet, in
the end, it did bring you and I together.” He stood up but wasn’t
finished.

“It’s hard to know who you are until you know
where you came from. I still have unanswered questions, but I also
have to believe my father had some redeeming qualities. At least by
taking care of his funeral I get some closure. Does that make
sense?”

Both of her hands in his, Asha stood facing
him, her dark eyes beginning to glisten as they studied his
face.

“Yes. It does. Though I want you in my life
because you’re a good guy regardless of where you came from. I
guess what I don’t understand is where you’re going to get the
money to pay for all of this.”

“You don’t, but you will.” Fenn reached over
and tapped on a black onyx box with his finger. “We’ll take this
for his ashes.”

“Very nice choice, sir.” The attendant made a
note on a small pad he kept discreetly in his hand. “Is there
anything else I can do for you today?”

There wasn’t. Fenn arranged to come back
later to sign the paperwork and settle up, then he and Asha left to
attend their next meeting of the morning.

“Did that not feel odd to you, doing business
with a funeral home, after what happened with Harrowport &
Dynes?”

Fenn laughed. “No. H&D were crooked but
I’m sure that this place is okay. Though, I have to say, today’s
visit wasn’t nearly as exciting as last week’s encounter.”

“Poor dear,” said Asha, patting his hand.
“Death can be so dull.”

== == ==

The meeting room at the Halton Regional
Police Headquarters could seat about thirty and was half full. Side
by side in wheelchairs were Officer Joe Abes with a female
constable in attendance, and Tony Demmers with Kim Klaasen doting
over him. Abes simply had a blanket over his hips but Demmers, with
a neck brace, back brace, and casts on both his left arm and leg
really did look like he’d been thrown from a car.

The other people that Fenn recognized were
Elaine and Larry Tillart, the owner of Dusty’s Motel and Bar, and
Dieter and Carole from DriveCheck.

Asha gave Fenn a nudge.

“Do John and Yoko seem a bit paranoid to
you?”

Fenn grinned. The Lundsens, both wearing
sunglasses, were uncharacteristically quiet. There was a sound of
laughter at the door and two women followed by three men entered
the room. They were in business attire and all took a seat except
for one of the men.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Folks. I’m
Detective Inspector Evan Lareault. I’ll introduce my associates as
we go. First of all, thank-you for attending this meeting. You have
all been through a lot and have patiently answered our questions.
This session is so that we can answer some of yours.

“When illegal activity comes to our attention
it can be just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Organized crime
is especially complicated, interwoven as it is in several different
areas. In many cases, one offence is often the catalyst for
others.

“Originally, my department was investigating
two murders, the emergence of a new street drug, and a funeral home
suspected of stealing jewellery and charging for services not
performed. All as separate cases. Thanks in part to the actions you
took—some of which I would not endorse—we were able to uncover
hidden links and connect the perpetrators to their crimes. In the
process, we also discovered another serious felony; the harvesting
of organs from corpses in the care of Harrowport & Dynes
Funeral Home. I’ll let our coroner, Dr. Dennis Collier, explain
that situation.”

Lareault sat down and Collier took his
place.

“While we can’t be certain how many deceased
persons were tampered with, and I’m sorry if this puts you off your
lunch, we did retrieve several human adrenal glands from a
pharmaceutical research facility. We were certain they were
extracted at Harrowport & Dynes but didn’t know from whom, and
to exhume every corpse they’d buried would have been a
nightmare.

“Luckily, we had a good idea of when the
glands appeared at the facility and only had to check H&D’s
records to see who was admitted over a certain three month period.
After that, it was a fairly simple matter of getting DNA samples
from next of kin and looking for matches. We have a meeting
scheduled with those families this afternoon. That civil suit will
be a whole other ball of wax.”

Collier paused to acknowledge Fenn’s raised
hand.

“So, is Simedyne—yeah I figured that out—will
that company be charged?” Fenn said.

“Probably not. One of their employees, Roger
Aird, allegedly brought the glands in for his own unauthorized use.
He was partnered with Brittany Reis and developed the drug patches.
Mr. Aird died from natural causes but two other people who got
close to Ms. Reis were murdered. Your father, Stanislaw Svoljsak,
and Martin Durrell died of a toxic injection from a specially
designed hairclip. The same one that she attacked you with, Mr.
Fenn.

“Although Ms. Reis denied owning the piece, a
search of her apartment turned up a box that was custom made for
it. Her fingerprints were on both items.”

Asha had a question. “What can you tell us
about the formula on the disc?”

“Thanks to your cousin, who had the data
analyzed by the University of British Columbia, we could quickly
verify our own findings. The formula was a match for the
composition of the zebra patch drug. Although the patch was mostly
ineffective as an intoxicant, it did cause the death of a young man
who was allergic to bee venom.

“On that note, however, there is one positive
aspect. Aird’s method of bonding the chemical agents led the UBC
team to a breakthrough in apitherapy. This was something they’d
been working on for a long time and is good news, I’m sure, for
Mrs. Tillart. I also understand that Mr. Fenn and Ms. Fabiani have
been named on the patent application.”

“Say, what?” said Dieter. “Does this mean
you’re going to get rich, and quit DriveCheck?”

“I don’t know,” said Fenn

“I wasn’t asking you,” Dieter said, removing
his sunglasses to look at his booking clerk.

“There will be years of trials before any
product hits the market,” Asha replied. “If there are any royalties
it could be a long time before we see the money”.

“Oh good,” Dieter said, and then when Carole
elbowed him added, “I mean, that’s very good that you’ll get
royalties.
What?
”

Collier relinquished the floor and the woman
sitting next to Lareault stood up.

“Guess it’s time to talk about the legal
stuff. My name is Alison Murray. My partner is Tamara Welch. As
much as we want to prosecute the bad guys, we have to be concerned
about the credibility of our witnesses. Namely, that of Mr.
Fenn.”

Fenn tried not to look guilty as all eyes
turned to him.

“The first item is the intentional collision
with the garbage truck. Since a gun was found with fingerprints
belonging to the alleged assailant, Byron Evelyn Rupnick, we can
indeed claim self-defense. The gun had been discharged, and gunshot
residue found on Mr. Rupnick’s hand only strengthens that
claim.”

“Does this mean our fleet insurance won’t be
affected?” Both Dieter and Carole sat up for that one.

“Unfortunately, insurance companies play by
their own rules. You might get lucky but I don’t want to get your
hopes up.”

Carole turned to stare at Fenn who thought
he’d probably turn to stone if she chose that moment to remove her
shades.

“Mr. Demmers has a similar problem, I’m
afraid. The media called him a hero for his rescue attempt, but the
illegal modifications to his car still rendered his policy null and
void.”

“No worries there,” said Kim. “My father will
be covering all of Tony’s expenses.”

“Wonderful. The rollover was deemed
mechanical failure so there will be no charges for moving
violations.” The lawyer perused the paper in her hand. “Now, there
is a small matter of possession with regard to an amount of cash.
Ms. Reis has claimed that Mr. Fenn removed from her car a bag
containing a quarter million dollars in cash.

“Before I ask Mr. Fenn’s opinion on this, I
will tell you that documents and computer data found at Ms. Reis’s
apartment show that she used an alias and misrepresented herself in
Mr. Aird’s affairs. A lot, if not all, of that alleged amount may
have been collected under false pretences. In addition, we believe
that Aird also acquired the money through illegal channels so,
technically, that cash is now evidence in the upcoming trials.

“Or, it would be evidence if we had it. The
bag that Mr. Fenn claims he found in the river contained his own
car keys and the disc that has been the root of so much trouble.
Items that could suggest Mr. Fenn had taken possession of the bag
prior to that. However, the bag given to the police contained only
two thousand dollars. So, I’m quite interested in your view of
this, Mr. Fenn.”

And judging by the look on everyone else’s
face, so were they. Wishing he’d worn suspenders to hook his thumbs
into, Fenn stood up to make his reply.

“If I were a lawyer, I’d have Ms. Reis prove
she had that much cash to begin with. Are there bank records? Did
anyone actually see it in her possession, or in her car? On the
other hand, three people in this room actually watched Ron Jenner
put
my
car keys and the disc into the bag
he
had in
the ATV. How he came to have the bag, or how much money he had in
there, I can’t say. When I pulled it from the river water poured
out of it. If there was more cash, it may have been lost when it
got tossed around in the rapids.”