Race

Barnes said, “Come join us for lunch.”

“Um…I have to make an urgent phone call,” I said

“Okay. We’ll be in the cafeteria,” he replied.

With the forms clutched in my hand I headed to the washroom. I splashed my face with cold water and took a deep breath. This was not happening to me.

SIX

They were in a white Lincoln with Hause driving and Martin and Ms. Zee in the back. A few cars behind, Suraj was following in his red Sundance.

“It was difficult to arrange this,” said Martin in his business tone. “He is very anxious.”

Ms. Zee stared out into the passing streets.

“It wasn’t wise to get rid of Armand,” he said.

“He was playing with us,” she said.

“Who will continue the work?”

“We’ll find someone.”

“Ms. Zee, we’ve built three samples, and each time we have failed. It’s bad business when you don’t deliver on your promises.”

“This is different,” she said.

“No, it’s not. Business is business. Our associates want to make money. We want to make money.”

She understood, of course, but had no answer. “How many employees do we have?” she said, to change the subject.

“Almost twenty. I’ve personally screened each and every one of them. Not one has a criminal record. I’ve registered companies under different aliases and have rented several stores all over the Greater Toronto Area. This will keep the police busy if they are ever onto us. But.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “We know that won’t happen, thanks to our friend inside the force. And they are too busy clearing up the mess of the drug squad.”

“Yes, by then our product will be everywhere. Are the machines in place for mass manufacturing?”

“They will be in a few days. All we need are the ingredients.”

“We’ll have that soon.” She was certain. It was a matter of finding and persuading the right person. She was also certain that she was the boss. She was the one who was financing this venture and she was the one who had found Armand.

“We’re here,” Hause said.

The Lincoln turned left into a narrow street inside Regent Park. There are twenty-five hundred units in Regent Park and all are social housing.

They parked and got out. A small group of children was playing games: skip-the-rope, hopscotch, marbles- kids games. They moved past the children, Martin in front, Ms. Zee in the middle, followed by Hause, who kept his eyes on the area like a bodyguard. They went inside a building.

On the second floor they knocked and a woman answered the door. She got out, locked her apartment, and took them down to the laundry room. The worn-out door was shut. She tapped twice and a skinny black man answered it, suspiciously eyeing the people behind the woman. He nodded. They were allowed to enter. The woman left.

One man was standing beside the washers. He wore an expensive fur coat.

“Marcus,” Ms. Zee said.

“I’ve been waiting,” the fur-coat-man responded.

“The laundry room,” she said. “How ingenious. Doesn’t anyone here wash their clothes?”

“Do you have it?” asked Marcus.

“Not yet,” she answered.

“Figures.”

“Why, because I’m a woman?”

“Hey, no. I never said that,” Marcus began to explain. “All I’m saying is that if I had to get it done, it would have been done by now.”

“It will be done.”

“You could…” he paused, dramatically scratching his chin.

“Give you the formula,” she said, knowing what he was about to say next.

“No. Sell me the formula. If this thing does what you say then I’ll buy it from you.”

“It’s still not complete,” she said. She knew these people. They never spoke straight.

“Yes, but it has potential.”

She listened and then said, “No.”

“You haven’t even heard my offer.”

“No.”

“If you hear me out I promise you’ll be interested.”

“No.”

“Then why don’t we talk about how we are going to do business together? Partner to partner.”

“We’re not partners, yet.”

“Yes, but you need me more than I need you,” he smiled. “I’m already well off with my current venture.” He meant selling drugs to the innocent children of Regent Park.

She said, “When the product is ready the demand will be too much for even your little venture.”

He tried to read her. If this product was going to be bigger than Ecstasy then he better play his cards well. “No matter,” he shook his head. “Let’s say fifty-fifty.”

“No.”

“That’s reasonable. Considering I’m putting blind faith into the product.”

“Seventy-thirty. Considering I’m paying the start-up costs.”

“All right. But negotiable in the future, of course.”

“Of course.” She didn’t really care for the future. If the product spread as it was expected to then she wouldn’t need him.

“Agreed. Once you provide me the goods I’ll have my boys get to work.”

***

When Ms. Zee was gone, Marcus smiled. Once he had the product he’d have some of his experts analyze it and make another brand-his brand, which would mean one-hundred percent profit for him. In the market of illegal goods there were no such things as patents.

***

I left the Central Field Command Headquarters and went to my car. I needed to get away. I needed to drive.

Behind the wheel I relaxed. This is what I’d done for the last year-and-a-half. Drive and give tickets.

I drove along Eglinton.

I was born in Nigeria, in Benin City. I was the only child, and as my mom told me, she was in labour for eighteen hours before I arrived.

We moved to Canada when I was only five. My mom worked dead-end jobs while my father went back to his studies. He soon became a lawyer. Life was good. But after he left us life became tough.

But my mom was tougher.

She and I moved to a nice neighborhood, where she became a grade-school teacher, and I went to some of the finest schools.

My childhood was strict. I was not allowed to get an earring like all my friends. I was not allowed to listen to rap music or anything with explicit lyrics. I was always told to behave. My childhood was firm, but I don’t blame my mom. After Father left us, she became extra protective of me, trying to shield me from everything. She said I was