Race

remember much from that night but he’s slowly recovering.”

“That’s good to hear.” I closed my eyes and then opened them. “You know,” I started. “I’ve been meaning to ask, was there really money missing from the fink fund?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“I read in the papers it was like over twenty thousand.”

“More like forty.”

“Wow,” I said. “I guess those drug squad guys do deserve the heat they are getting.”

“Why would you say that?” he said.

I sensed Beadsworth was defensive.

“I–I mean how can you lose forty grand?” I said.

“Simple,” he answered.

I waited.

He crossed his other leg and said, “Let me explain, this is how it is supposed to work and I hope you see a flaw in this. An officer receives information from an informant and decides what this information is worth. To pay this informant the officer gets approval from his supervisor, then goes to the cashier’s office and collects the money. The officer then gets the informant to sign his real name for the money, which at the time is witnessed by a second officer.”

I didn’t see a flaw. It sounded reasonable to me.

“This is how it works in the real world: the cashier’s office is open only during normal business hours but the officer needs the cash during off hours. Also, the informant will not, under any circumstance, sign his real name. Remember, most informants only offer information when they need money and most of them have lengthy criminal records, which means they are not very trustworthy. Officers must rely on their judgment when dealing with these people.

“In order to further the investigation, the officer will pay the informant from his own pocket. Under certain situations the officer may credit payments to one informant but in fact be paying to another as the informant refuses to sign for it. Also, if an officer is working undercover and is alone, it is very difficult to have another officer as a witness. Don’t you agree?”

I nodded. That made more sense.

We both fell silent.

“What do we do now?” I said, wiggling my attractive toes.

“We wait, I suppose,” he replied.

“What about me?”

“You will rest and after…” he paused.

“After what?”

“You go back to parking enforcement.”

I didn’t protest. All this was taking a toll on me-physically and emotionally. It would be nice to go back. Sergeant Motley would welcome me with open arms.

I really missed giving out parking tickets. Except for the occasional irate driver, the job was primarily safe. I never had to see a co-worker get hurt, or see myself get hurt, for that matter.

“When can I go back?”

“You’re very eager?”

“Yes…and…like I said before, I don’t know why I’m in this team in the first place.”

“I think I know why,” he said. But before I could say something he stood up, “I read your file and it said you worked in the Guelph Police Services and particularly in the drugs and intelligence unit. Is this correct?”

I was ready to say yes but then thought about it. I was already being punished by the powers-that-be. No point in prolonging it. “I did work there,” I said. “But not in that unit.”

“May I ask in what capacity, then?”

“Keying and filing.”

Beadsworth did a double-take. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was an assistant to the records and data manager.” I turned my head away. “I entered criminal records into the computer and filed them away.”

I heard him say, “hmm.”

I felt ashamed.

He then said, “I must go.”

“Where to?” I turned back to him.

“Back to 23 Division.”

Ms. Zee stared at the small clear container that held the white tablets. Nex would give her the power to control Toronto.

And they would expand.

She was determined to make it an empire. A business empire.

Nex was for lawyers, judges, doctors, politicians; yes, people with power would use Nex. Make people with influence dependent on Nex and you would control the city.

Her mind drifted to another thought. Joey.

She was going to miss him. She had given Kong the green light to get rid of him. Kong was pleased. Hause would dump the body in the Scarborough Bluffs.

Many mistakes had been made in the beginning. Trusting Armand, hiring Joey, these were crucial mistakes. Now she was going to have none.

The door flew open.

Hause entered, huffing and puffing.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, infuriated at being disturbed.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Who’s gone?”’

“Joey.”

“Gone where?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you search everywhere?”

“I checked the entire building. Kong is doing another sweep.”

Joey never ventured out of the building alone. Never. He knew the consequences if he did.

Kong returned, displeased.

“What now?” Hause said.

“He must have gone to his parents’ house,” Ms. Zee said. “Go check.”

TWENTY-ONE

I lay still, silently staring up at the ceiling. It had been more than an hour since Beadsworth had left. I was thinking about nothing in particular. My mind was shifting from one thought to another. There was so much I wanted to understand.

I felt Operation Anti-RACE had been set up too quickly. The team needed members with experience in catching criminals like RACE.

Now the team was being disbanded just like…the drug squad.

There was a loud bang.

I listened.

Bang, bang, bang came in rapid succession.

I got up and went to the door.

I opened it.