Final Act by Dianne Yetman (best free ebook reader .TXT) 📕

The office door closed and Kate returned to reading the files.

***

Kate and Roger sat across from each other, fresh cups of coffee from the deli, in their hands.  They began their debrief.

“I got an interesting phone call while you were out getting coffee.  Paul, my partner at the Drug Squad, called earlier.  The word on the street is someone’s out to do me harm.  Christ, I’ve been off the squad for two years now, and as far as anyone knows, my cover was never blown.  It’s got to be a hoax.”

“I remember Paul from my rookie days.  Always seemed to have his feet on the ground.  I can’t see him sharing anything he didn’t think had substance.  Did he say anything else?”

“No, said he’d keep me posted.”

“Did you mix with many powerful players when you were on the squad?”

“No. The squad doesn’t let anyone get too close to the big boys until they got a lot of experience under their belts, there’s too much to lose if something goes wrong.  I was a side player, hanging out at the clubs, monitoring the young crowd, seeing who was who.  Most of the kids were out for a good time.  The serious users were on the street, not in the nightclubs.”

“Meet anyone you knew?”

“No.  In my neighbourhood, they didn’t play with drugs, they took them very seriously.   The ones I watched were a different breed altogether.  I helped one mixed up kid one evening.  Watched how the two guys she was with were setting her up.  Followed them out to the parking lot, scared the shit out of the punks, and drove her home.  She got out of the car without so much as a thank you.  Lived in one of those homes a few miles from your neighbourhood, can’t remember what street it was now. There was someone behind the curtain in the upstairs watching though.  I walked the girl to the front door and never laid eyes on her again.”

“Watch your back, Roger.  Don’t take any risks.”

“The squad’s got my back.  If someone wants me, they’ll smoke them out.  I’m not worried.  What have you got your head buried in?”

“Interview files.  There’s something we’re not seeing.  We should have had our finger on the pulse by now.  I don’t have a good feeling about this one, Roger. I noticed...”

“Don’t go getting all superstitious on me.  Something’s bound to turn up soon.  Look, I’m tired, let’s finish this in the morning and pack it in for the night?”

“Sounds good.  Do you want a drive?”

“No, I’m going to type up my interview report on Ward before heading out, besides the fresh air will do me good. It’s only a ten minute walk.”

She watched him open his briefcase that was covered in racing decals and take out his notes.  “Okay.  See you tomorrow.”

Seven minutes later, Kate pulled out of the precinct parking lot, tac spinning.  In less than ten minutes, she was sliding into her spot in the condo’s underground parking.  A slow jog up the flight of steps, fast walk across the lobby, key out of pocket and into door, lights switched on.  She stood and listened.  Silence.  David didn’t come back.  She wrote on the paper by her phone, call locksmith, and headed for her beloved shower.

***

It was two hours later that a tired Roger put the finishing touches on his report, turned the lights off, and waved good-night to the Duty Sergeant in lobby.  The night air was cool, refreshing as he hoped. The sidewalk was congested with people pouring out of the Metro Centre after the Rock concert, it had been a wet one judging by the high spirits of the crowd.

At the thought of spirits, he quickened his pace and sprinted down the hill, past the row of nightclubs and bars, to the next intersection.  Only five minutes away from a cold glass of beer and the taped NASCAR race, he thought, as he waited for the light to change.  He heard a shout, turned and saw a group of people hovered over a body lying on the sidewalk.

Damn, not now. Will this day never end? 

He reached into his jacket for his cell.  His gun and badge were locked away in his desk drawer but he doubted he would need either.  As he approached the group, he slowed his pace and put his cell back in his pocket. The person wasn’t injured; he could see him smiling up at the gathered group, bunch of kids carrying on.

He had turned to go when the blow struck.  As he sunk to the sidewalk, he saw the metal pipe directed towards his head.  He tried to dodge it by turning to the right but something slammed into his gut; his body felt like it was packed in wet sand.  He felt himself slipping away into darkness.

***

Hanya hung up the phone frustrated that Kate wasn’t answering at home or at the office.  No sense waiting around, I’ll have to take the bull by the horns and pay them a visit myself. She didn’t like interfering with other people’s lives but what she heard had last night made her nervous.

It was Gina, a 30 year old drug addicted mother of two, who worked the streets, that gave her the news.  Gina had lived on the reserve until her life began to spiral out of control because of her drug use.  She had contacted Hanya two months ago and asked about her two children she had left behind with her mother.  After their initial meeting,  Hanya began to meet with her regularly once at week in the evening at the small downtown park.

She picked up the phone and dialled.

***

“You’ll never guess who that was,” Susan said.

“Probably not, so why don’t you just tell me”, Alexis said.

“It was Rev. Hanya. Remember, we were introduced to her at the funeral reception, charming woman.  She’ll be here in 30 minutes.”

“Did she say why she wanted to