Chapter 35

Just the other night, J. F. had said, "There is something out there that I do not see."

Maybe he'd seen it. Or it had seen him.

"Pat? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, Joe. I'm here. Just give me a minute to adjust."

"Is Steven Finissy with you?"

"Yes. Yes, he is."

"Can I speak to him for a moment? Oh, here's John Robinson. It's more important that he talk to both of you. Please put Finissy on."

"OK, Joe." I turned to Steve, who was staring at me. I said. "Steve, this is a very important call. It's an emergency. Perhaps a national emergency. Inspector Robinson of the RCMP would like to talk to you."

Steve took the phone, holding it as though it might bite him. "Hello. Yes, Inspector. What? Oh my God! When? How could that happen? They were? No, please believe me, I didn't know that." There was a pause. Steve asked, "On whose authority?" Another pause. Then he exclaimed, "This is inexcusable! Yes. Yes. I agree. I see. Please keep me notified. Yes. Here he is." Steve handed me the phone without a word.

Lacking a better opener, I said, "Hello."

"Pat," John Robinson's voice said, "I'm sorry. I know that Jean-François Ménard is a good friend of yours. And we owe him a lot. Without him, there'd be no investigation. Believe me, we're doing everything we can to find him."

"John, just tell me what happened and why."

"That asshole of a Supervisor who was Finissy's leak for this whole thing. That's what. The son of a bitch countermanded my orders and had Ménard's daytime surveillance team withdrawn. As nearly as we can figure, he was probably snatched near his office sometime between 11:30 this morning and 1:00 this afternoon."

"Christ. Did anybody see anything?"

"Not anybody we've talked to. Ménard told his assistant that he was going out for a coffee. He never came back."

"John, would you mind if I called a certain acquaintance about this?"

"Hell no. Call her. Just please tell her not to kill anybody this time."

I felt a chill. "Is that what happened to Joe Wang and what's her name?"

John exhaled loudly. "Hell. We don't know what happened to 'em. Maybe they were given an all-expense-paid ticket to Disney World. But somehow I doubt it. Anyway, see if you can find out what the Lau cunt knows about this. In the meantime, sit tight. I have cars on the way for both you and Finissy. We're going to keep everyone who knows anything about this case under protective surveillance. The officers will take you home, or wherever you want to go. And don't forget to call me about Lau."

"You'll be the first I'll call. Can you please put Joe back on?"

"Sure. Good luck with Lau, Pat."

While I was waiting for Joe to take the phone, I was seething over John's calling Christie "the Lau cunt." After some phone handling noise, I heard Joe's voice. "OK, Pat. I'm back."

"Joe, does Shauna know anything about this?"

"No. I don't think so."

"She's become pretty close to J. F. Could you please tell her? I don't want her finding out from some news report."

"Why don't you call her?"

"I just have a feeling that I have to keep my phone clear. But I'm heading home right now. She can call me there."

"OK. I'll talk to Shauna now. By the way, I heard John mention 'Lau.' Are you perhaps about to call Christie?"

"Yeah."

"Watch your ass. Things are really heating up, and I gotta think that broad is right in the middle of everything."

"Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't. But I have to see if she can help. J. F. is my friend. But first, I have to go home. I don't want to call her on a cell phone. She probably wouldn't take the call. She has this thing about security."

Joe laughed. "Yeah, I know. I've seen the results. Just don't let her make you too secure."

"OK, Joe." I took a deep breath and then said, "Thanks for letting me know about this."

"Take care, Pat. Please take care. You might be next."

I turned to Steve. While I was talking to John and Joe, he'd obviously gotten a cup of coffee. He was busily polluting it with cream and sugar. He looked at me. "Pat, what the hell is going on?"

"Frankly, we seem to be caught in the middle of a force five shit storm. My friend Jean-François Ménard, deputy minister of immigration and employment, has disappeared. This happened, as you've obviously heard, in spite of the efforts of this country's national police force. How? No one knows. Why? That's easy. Jean-François knew something, or, just as bad for him, somebody thought he knew something. He said to me just the other night that there was something bothering him. Something that might be a missing piece of this whole mess. Maybe he found it. Or worse: it found him."

Steve looked at his cup of coffee as though his fortune might be revealed there. He said, "I overheard you talking about calling someone to find out what's going on. And who's Joe Wang?"

I raised my glass and motioned to the waiter for another Scotch. This was going to be a very long day. "Joe Wang is, or perhaps was, an entry-level gangster. Do you remember my telling you about the guy who tried that crap on J. F. and me?"

"Yeah. From what you said, it sounded like he was missing. What happened to him?"

"I have no idea. Nor do I want to know. Anyway, the person I'm going to call about this mess is Christine Lau. Among other things, she's the CEO of Borealis Entertainment."

"This isn't a rock concert or a movie. Why call her?"

"Because she's involved in other things, like I said. She may be able to shed some light on this mess."

"Pat, it sounds like you have friends in low places."

"You could put it that way. Anyway, I'm going to see if Christie knows anything. Believe me, I have to be desperate to call her. She's very scary."

I heard sirens. They were rapidly getting closer. Two RCMP cars screeched into the Green Valley parking lot, lights flashing and sirens screaming. They came to a halt, and a uniformed officer got out of each car and entered the restaurant. They approached our table. The taller of the two spoke.

"Mr. Finnissy, Mr. Connolly," he said, "I'm Sergeant Sutherland, and this is Sergeant Stabler. I understand that you've spoken to Inspector Robinson and understand the situation. We're here to escort you and to ensure your safety. Your homes and offices are already under surveillance by the Ottawa police."

Steve said softly, "Do you really believe that we're in danger?"

Sutherland replied impassively, "Sir, we believe that the possibility exists. Until we know what has happened to M. Ménard, we have no idea how much danger you may be in. We're treating this situation very seriously. Mr. Finnissy, please come with me. Mr. Connolly will accompany Sergeant Stabler."

We paid our bill and left with the Dudlies. Each of the cars had another Mountie behind the wheel. A young woman was the driver of my car. I was not introduced to her, which seemed odd. Steve's driver was a Sikh, complete with turban. I was not introduced to him, either. But I could see him clearly through the window. I recalled the controversy some years ago about whether Sikh RCMP officers should be allowed to wear the turban their religion required, rather than the standard uniform hat. It might seem silly today, but that story was in the headlines not that long ago.

"Click!" I jumped. I had no idea that I was that nervous. Stabler had simply opened the rear door of the car. He took my arm and guided me into the seat. I sat down. Stabler walked around the car and joined me in the back seat. In a surprisingly deep voice he asked, "Would you prefer that we take you to your home or your office?"

"I'd like to go home. But what about my fiancée, Ms. Cake?"

"We'll have another car bring her home as well. And an officer will drive your own car to your house."

We were getting royal treatment, but I wasn't sure that I wanted the constant company of a Dudley Doright. Stabler seemed to sense what I was feeling. "Don't worry," he said, "we'll be unobtrusive. We're quite experienced in this sort of work. You and your friends won't know we're around. Unless you need us, that is." He handed me a card. "This is my cell phone number. Don't hesitate to call if you feel the need. And please don't worry about bothering us. It's far better to give a false alarm than to hesitate and suffer the consequences."

"Will my home phone be..."

Stabler finished my thought, "Tapped? Perhaps, though it's not at this moment. If the senior officers feel that it's necessary for your safety or for the safety of M. Ménard, we might well monitor your home telephone lines. If and when that happens, you'll be informed."

I was puzzled. I asked, "Why would it be necessary for Mr. Ménard's safety?"

"It's quite possible that his disappearance is the result of a kidnapping. And it's equally possible that the reason for this kidnapping could be either to extract a ransom or to influence people involved in the investigation of the Singh affair, such as yourself. I've been informed that you know a great deal about this case. And I understand that you have substantial financial resources. This could make you a target for either of those things."

I was torn between feeling annoyed or reassured that this Mountie knew so much about me. He'd obviously been thoroughly briefed. Well, at least there wouldn't be any reason to explain my private life to the Dudlies. The odds were good that they even knew my favourite brand of after shave.