Authors: Mobashar Qureshi
“No—no.”
She kissed me on the cheek and I left her in the restaurant and headed for home.
***
I drove to my house to find it in a blaze.
Fire trucks, police vehicles, ambulances, the whole emergency unit was there.
I thought about Joey.
My stomach turned and something moved up my throat.
I threw up right there on the sidewalk.
***
I was inside
Beadsworth’s
car on our way to his house.
I remembered seeing my landlady, comforted by her son, crying.
I remembered seeing the firefighters trying to subdue the flames.
I remembered meeting
Beadsworth
, Aldrich and Garnett.
I remembered
Beadsworth
asking about Joey.
Joey was inside the house, I remembered saying.
I remembered vomiting again.
I remembered Garnett saying, “It should have been
you
.”
I wished it were me.
TWENTY-FOUR
I woke up. The sun streamed through the window and hit my face.
I rolled over to shield myself.
The room was bare.
Beige, with nothing but a bed and a dresser.
I was wearing the clothes I’d worn to dinner the night before.
I saw my jacket hung in the open closet and my socks on the floor.
I got up.
I moved the blinds and found myself staring down into the back yard.
There was a huge pool on the left and a children’s playground, with swings and slides, on the right.
I left the room and walked down a nicely carpeted hall.
I went down a spiral staircase to the main floor.
I heard noises coming from the living room.
I leaned in and saw a woman holding and talking to a baby.
She caught me peeking and smiled.
“I hope we didn’t wake you?” she said with a heavy English accent.
I shook my head.
“No, I like getting up early.”
But then realized it was well past ten.
“I’m Amy.”
“Jon
Rupret
, R before E.”
“Yes, Phillip told me.” She smiled.
“He’ll be in later.
What would you like for breakfast? I’m not much of a cook, but I can put something together.”
“Anything is good.”
“Toast and scrambled eggs then?”
She was a little heavy, with brownish cropped hair and intelligent eyes.
The baby cradled in her arms looked at me curiously.
“His name is Liam,” she said.
“Liam, this is Officer
Rupret
.
Say hello.”
The baby continued staring at me.
He was probably wondering who let this guy into the house.
“How old is he?” I asked.
I already knew, but what else would you say to a woman holding a baby?
“Five months,” she smiled.
***
The
Beadsworths
lived in a very affluent
neighbourhood
.
All the houses in the area resembled mini-mansions.
After breakfast I strolled through the house.
It was spacious, to say the least, and very opulent.
Fine carpets, marble countertops, exquisite chandeliers—it seemed no expenses were spared decorating.
I’d be the first to admit I didn’t know much about big and expensive houses, but I did occasionally watch
Famous Homes and Hideaways
.
And, this house looked like it belonged in that show.
How could someone on a police officer’s salary afford this?
I went to the living room and placed myself on a stylish black leather sofa.
Immediately my body became sucked into the softness.
It reminded me of my brief affair with Cal Murray’s sofa.
Amy
Beadsworth
came over and sat across from me.
“Liam is sleeping,” she said.
“He wakes up early but, thankfully, sleeps in the afternoon.
This gives me time to rest, too. I’m sorry about your house.”
I gave her the
What-can-you-do
shrug.
“I think it’s nice that you’re staying with us.
We have plenty of room.”
I can see that
.
My eyes moved around the living room.
“It must take a lot of time cleaning this place,” I said.
She laughed, the way rich people do: proper, and not too loud.
“With Noel and Liam I don’t have time.
Margarita, our maid, comes in the afternoon.
She’s so much help.
She keeps this place spiffy.
She’s a wonderful cook, too.
When I arrived from England, I didn’t even know how to break an egg.”
She laughed.
“Margarita has taught me a lot. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
I knew I’d tasted eggshells in my breakfast.
“You have family in Toronto?” she asked.
“A mother in Guelph.”
“What about brothers and sisters?”
“I was an only child.”
We heard the sound of the front door and
Beadsworth
came in, looking serious.
He kissed his wife and then sat down.
She left us to talk.
“Did they find anything in my house?” I said.
“Nothing,” he said.
“What about RACE?” I said. “The address Joey gave us.
Anything there?”
“Nothing.
We found the location vacant.
They knew we were coming.”
“How?”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Great, for a guy who just saw his house burned down and the kid he was supposed to protect, dead.”
Beadsworth
had gotten used to my sarcasm so he made no comment.
“Aldrich must be really pissed?” I said.
“Yes.
He was upset.”
Beadsworth
leaned back and unbuttoned his coat.
He crossed his legs.
“Not more upset than I was.”
“It was a mistake,” I said.
“Yes, a very fatal mistake.”
“I could have gone down with my house.”
“Perhaps.”
“Hey,” I snapped.
“I know you told me to watch over Joey but Joey shouldn’t have been under my protection.
If I remember correctly, you insisted he be left with me.
Why?”
“I thought he would be safe,” he said.
“I was wrong.”
He sucked in air and blew out.
“Officer
Rupret
, we are no longer investigating RACE, or whatever this organization maybe called.”
“We just give up?” I said.
“Indefinitely.”
He didn’t seem pleased about it either.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I said.
“Of course, it does.
The RCMP investigation in to the wrongdoings of the drug squad will go to court within the next few days.
The media will be focusing primarily on this event.
The Chief does not want any more fodder for the press.”
“What about RACE and
Nex
?” I asked.
“That is out of my hands.
I’ll be going back to my divisional duties as of today.”
He looked away.
“Constable Barnes is making a speedy recovery.”
Knowing that made me feel a little better, but not a lot.
Joey’s death would be something I’d never get over.
Beadsworth
continued.
“Constable Barnes doesn’t remember anything from that night, but the department’s psychologist is monitoring him.
If you require I can arrange one for you.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Last night you mentioned you were with this woman, Laura Spencer.
Is this correct?”
I nodded.
“We did a search and several names came up, but none live in Toronto.”
“She doesn’t live here.
She was visiting her sister.”
“Do you know her sister’s name?”
“No.”
“You also mentioned her sister lived around the block from your house.
Do you have an address?”
I shook my head.
I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday.
Maybe I wasn’t thinking.
Had I known Joey would be so vulnerable I would have acted differently.
“Can I see my house?” I said.
“Yes, of course.
I can take you there.
But there isn’t much to see, I’m afraid.”
I didn’t care.
I wanted to see for myself. And, I wanted to meet my dear ’
ol
landlady.
***
The warehouse, located along the lakeshore, near the west end, was in a decrepit state. The multi-
coloured
—brown and pink—exterior bricks were fading, revealing white surface walls.
The large rectangular windows were either tinted
or broken, and those that were broken were boarded up with two-inch plywood.
From the outside it looked like an unoccupied, rundown building, but inside it was anything but.
The warehouse was divided into four sections.
One for the mixture of
Nex
, one for the production of the tablets, one for storage of the final product, and one for the distribution.
All the ingredients had been delivered.
The blister packs, trays, liquid nitrogen freezing tunnels, refrigerators, and freeze-dryers had arrived early in the morning.
They had everything to begin production of
Nex
.
Ms. Zee was surprised no alarms had gone off with these purchases.
Someone could have alerted the police.
Kong entered the office and stood silently.
Ms. Zee had sent him to all her suppliers.
It was an asset to have Kong in the negotiation process of a transaction.
Most suppliers would be reluctant to overcharge.
Kong grunted.
She understood.
He was unhappy with her.
He wanted to be the one to snap Joey’s neck.
“Kong,” Ms. Zee said.
“You will have other chances.
I promise.”