The Taken

pack up your knapsacks and your canteens, say your dib dib dibs, and proceed to get scarce.”

Hazel had felt an electric shiver when Wingate spoke. She wanted him to finish this arrogant prick off, but instead, Wingate appeared thoughtful. “Why was he disgraced, Sir?” he asked. “Detective Goodman.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you, did he?”

“We haven’t spoken all that much.”

“First he appointed himself judge, jury, and almost executioner when he was a beat cop. We don’t mind turning a blind eye to some dealer who ends up with the stuffing beat out of him in some alley – hell, some junkie could have done that. But you can trace a bullet.”

“He killed dealers?” Hazel asked.

“No, but there are a few of them out there with some of Goodman’s metal still in them. We took him out of there, but of course one of his favourite crack feebs has to top herself on his new watch and he goes off the reservation. After it was ruled a suicide – and let me tell you, the evidence was conclusive, in case he’s got you both trying on your merit badges – he took it on himself to keep investigating the case. And a month after it was put to bed, he committed a home invasion on one of the victim’s associates and threatened to kill him unless we reopened the case. It took blind bombs and tear gas to get him out of that house.”

“Colin Eldwin’s house.”

“Well, he told you that much at least.”

“That’s who he’s abducted.”

Ilunga’s upper lip quivered a little. “Well, I guess he got his man then. Good for him. You want something on q.t.? Colin Eldwin is a piece of garbage – we looked into him long and hard at Goodman’s insistence. That man would have fucked a snake if he could have got it to hold still, but he had an alibi the night of Cameron’s death and it was watertight, if you’ll excuse the choice of words. If Goodman’s managed to snatch him a second time, you two should just stay out of his way and let the law of the jungle run its course.”

Now Hazel finally had something to say. “He doesn’t just have Eldwin. He has Cameron’s mother as well.”

“He’s abducted the victim’s mother?”

“Not physically. But emotionally, yes. He’s co-opted her. She’s the other suspect in the abduction.”

“You see? You see what a clusterfuck Goodman is? He worked under me for fifteen years and he was a great cop.” Ilunga pushed his forefinger against his head. “But if this goes rogue, because you think too much and you don’t have any discipline, then you start thinking the walls are passing on their secrets to you and only you. Goodman lost it, and you will too if you follow him into his rabbit hole.”

She took in what he was saying. “Superintendent… we owe you an apology. We didn’t know any of this.”

“You should have asked.”

“We didn’t know to ask. We didn’t know any of this until we got here.”

Ilunga laid his electric gaze on both of them, one at a time. “So what are you going to do?”

“We’re going to find some way to let him know we’ve gotten ourselves off his hook. And hopefully we’ll find Eldwin before Goodman kills him.”

“Don’t sweat it if you can’t,” said Ilunga. “One less piece of shit on the planet won’t make a difference. And frankly, if Goodman gets satisfaction, maybe I’ll never see him in my rearview mirror again.”

She turned to Wingate. “Well?”

“Well, what?” he said angrily.

“Let’s go.”

“You’re kidding me.”

She didn’t answer him and he left the office without another word. Hazel extended her hand to Superintendent Ilunga. “We were just trying to do our jobs, Sir,” she said.

“Do them elsewhere,” he said, smiling again. “And call ahead if you need anything next time.”

She laughed good-naturedly and closed the door behind her.

She had to speedwalk down the hall to catch Wingate. “Slow up,” she whispered hoarsely to him.

“For what? You got other asses to kiss?”

“James.” Her tone made him stop. “You don’t fight little Napoleons like Ilunga. You go along. They’re deaf to any subtlety if you flatter them a little.”

“Is that what you were doing?”

“He doesn’t know how far we’ve gotten. He thinks we’re trying to read tea leaves. Let him sit and stew in there – in the meantime Toles is working for us and if he gives us half a reason to reopen the case, Ilunga can shout all he wants, but we’ll have carte blanche.”

“And if the lab comes back a bust? That thing’s been in a bag for three years.”

“Then we’re done down here.”

“And Colin Eldwin is a dead man.”

She waited for two constables to pass behind them. “The results don’t matter, James. If Goodman wants to know what we find out from CFS, he’s going to have to show himself. And we’ll be back on our own turf when he does.”

“It doesn’t sound like a plan, yet.”

“Have some faith, James. We’ve gotten this far.” She looked at her watch. “In the meantime, I’ve got to track down Toles and make sure he’s as green as he looks. We’re not going to get this all done in one day.” She looked back toward Ilunga’s door and then quickly stole forward to Room 32. She went in and out quickly. “I hope you weren’t planning on sleeping in your own bed tonight.”

“Skip?”

“I mean get us a couple of rooms somewhere, Detective.” She grinned at him. “I like you, James, but I just don’t think it would -”

“- I knew what you meant.”

“I know you did.” She started off down the hallway and then spun on her heel and walked backwards a couple of paces. “You should have seen the look on your face, though.”

28

Tuesday, May 31

Hazel called in first thing in the morning and got Monday’s report from Costamides. As she’d expected, nothing had appeared on the website, in fact, the feed was dead. She salted this away: with both Goodman and Cameron in Toronto, that suggested the basement they were looking for wasn’t in the city. That bird was going to have to be killed with another stone. Costamides told her the Record had done as instructed: both of the missing chapters of “The Mystery of Bass Lake” had appeared in the Monday edition. Hazel wasn’t sure what value appearing to follow instructions would have now, but the abductors had threatened more bodily damage to their victim if the chapters didn’t run, and Hazel hoped they would keep their word, at least for the time being. The least powerful impression she’d formed over the last twenty-four hours was the one concerning Eldwin’s guilt. Whether he’d committed a murder or not, she was intent on bringing him out of that basement alive. If he was a killer, then he could stand trial; she would not let Goodman or Cameron mete out their own brand of justice. That would constitute the ultimate failure on her part.

She thanked Costamides and got Toles at his desk. He’d been able to work his charms: the results of the examination of the sweater would be ready sometime before lunch. Hazel thanked him copiously and then suggested that since he’d messed with CFS protocol, it might be a good idea for them to get his friend to fax her results somewhere unofficial. “Cover your tracks in case someone thinks ill of a new DC jumping the queue on his own say-so.” Toles saw merit in the suggestion. He called back half an hour later to say that his contact was faxing the results to the Kinko’s on University, above Dundas. He’d told her to use a cover sheet addressing the pages to “D. Hammett.”

“Good one,” said Hazel.

“The whole escapade is costing me dinner at Lucy Than’s new restaurant. Not that I’m complaining,” he