Next morning I was ready to leave the house when I got a call from Ronald Garnett.
“Rupert, I’m going to tag along with you,” he said. This wasn’t a request, it was an order. “Pick me up from headquarters.”
I was ready to make some excuse, like I was taking the subway, but thought against it.
“Yes, sir,” was all I could say.
The drive to headquarters was painful. I had to pick up Garnett there, who, in my opinion, was waiting to bite my head off, then drive to Scarborough and meet up with Nemdharry and Terries. Beadsworth would join us later.
The lonely ride with Garnett was not going to be pleasant. What would we talk about? So Ronny, can I call you Ronny? Buddy, how’s it going? Sorry I screwed up your investigation. What’s one investigation when crime is everywhere? What’s four months? Maybe the next one will be quick; you might even wrap it up in one month.
I found Garnett standing in front of the main entrance. He opened the passenger door with a bewildered look over his face. He tried, to the best of his abilities, to get into the car. Ronald Garnett is enormous. He is massive. He could be someone’s bodyguard or even a bouncer at a club.
“You’re late,” he growled.
“I had to stop at the red lights,” I said.
He didn’t find my comment very amusing.
I told him we were meeting Beadsworth in Scarborough. He made no comment, which was good. I didn’t want any small talk either.
While I drove, I found my body gravitated toward him. In fact, the entire car seemed lopsided. Wait a minute. Garnett’s side seemed lower. Great, there go my shocks.
“Can’t this toy go any faster?” Garnett said. It was ninety kilometre per hour on this highway. My car was barely going over eighty.
I wanted to say, Get out of my car. You’re too damn heavy. Stop eating entire cows for lunch.
I pressed harder on the accelerator. The car jerked and I saw the hand on the speedometer quiver and touch ninety.
Happy? This vehicle will fall apart any minute. This is an economy class vehicle. It’s not a truck. It can’t handle your weight.
“I don’t like you,” Garnett said. He turned to me. “I don’t have to like you.” He looked like a deranged bulldog.
“I don’t like you either,” I said, but then all the data started bombarding my head: stuck in car with Garnett, driving fast on highway, no possible chance of escape. I then wished I hadn’t said that.
“I don’t know why Sergeant Aldrich chose you but I think it was a mistake.”
I thought it was a mistake too, but you wouldn’t hear me mention it to everyone.
“You’re not even fit to give parking tickets,” he said.
I think he was trying to provoke me. He wanted me to say something so Aldrich would dismiss me from the team. I wasn’t going to let him win so I just smiled.
“What’re you smiling at?” he said.
The smile on my face vanished. But inside, I was still smiling.
“Just stay out of my way,” he finally said.
Sure, I nodded. I had no desire to get pulverized.
If ever I was in trouble I couldn’t see Garnett saving my ass. I couldn’t see him saving anyone else’s either.
I don’t know how, but we reached Scarborough.
Once Nemdharry saw our car approach he got out of his. He was surprised to see Garnett.
“Morning, Ron,” he said. “Didn’t know you’d be joining us.”
Garnett smiled and said, “Sergeant Aldrich wanted me to assist you guys in any way I can.”
“How’s tight-ass doing anyways?”
Tight-ass?
I thought Garnett would lose his top but he replied, “Cut him some slack. He’s under a lot of pressure.”
“I bet he is,” Nemdharry said.
“It’s not his fault what happened.”
“I don’t like working under him. Wouldn’t have minded if you were heading the operation.”
Garnett just shrugged.
“I don’t like his decisions,” Nemdharry said.
Garnett looked in my direction. “Neither do I.”
Subtlety wasn’t Garnett’s strong quality.
“Anything?” Garnett asked.
Nemdharry looked over at the building across and said, “I checked to see what LLPM stood for but came up empty. But I did find the company was registered two months ago.”
Garnett said, “You said something about a white truck?”
“Oh, yeah. We were able to get a better view this time. They brought in empty cardboard boxes-”
“How’d you know they were empty?” Garnett asked.
“They were flat sheets, you know. Later they were assembled, I guess. We did clearly see them load the truck with the boxes afterwards. Forty-five minutes later they were gone.”
“Are they shipping Nex in those boxes?” I said.
“Can’t say,” Nemdharry answered. “If a dealer could set up shop in the middle of city hall and not be caught he would do it. It’s all about finding that one way of getting away with it.” He scratched his clean-shaven cheek. “I wouldn’t open a clan lab here. No. There are too many people around. It’s too risky. But you can’t underestimate these guys. Hell. They might be thinking we won’t come looking for them here.”
“How many people work in there?” Garnett asked.
“I can’t say exactly. But last night a green minivan with tinted windows drove up, dropped a few passengers off, picked some up and left.”
“Where’d they take them?”
“To Kennedy Station.”
“They could just be giving their employees a ride,” Garnett said.
“Yeah, but there are several bus stops around here. They couldn’t walk up to the bus stops?”
There was silence. We were all thinking about it. Something was definitely fishy.
A GM station wagon drove up and in it was Beadsworth. He got out and came over to us.
“How’s your kid?” Garnett asked Beadsworth.
“He’s doing much better.”
“Phil, what’re the results from DAS?” Nemdharry asked.
“The samples contained some part of Ketamine.”
“Special K,” Garnett answered.
“K-hole,” Nemdharry shook his head.
“Sorry?” I said.
“Ketamine,” Nemdharry started. “The high, or K-hole, as it is called, can make you do weird shit. I remember,” he said laughing. “I had just started in the force and they put me on foot patrol. I got a call one night that some guy was committing suicide off a tower on Wellington. So I rushed over. When I got up, I saw this guy, hands on his knees, on the ledge, looking forty stories down. The guy looked respectable, nice suit and haircut and all. So I thought, maybe a stockbroker, probably lost all his client’s money. So I started talking to him, telling him life is worth living and that his family would miss him if he were dead. After five minutes of me talking he looked up and his face had this confused look. He smiled and pointed below. So I went over to the edge and looked down. All I saw were tiny cars and ant-like people. I told him what I saw. He got angry and shook his head. No. Look carefully. I did and I still didn’t see anything special. He smiled and said all his friends were down there. I looked again. Maybe this whole stunt was to prove something to his friends? He said thousands of his friends were waiting for him down below and they were not from this planet. They wanted him to jump so that they could catch him. The guy was flipped. So I talked to him about his friends hoping to buy some time. Close to an hour later the guy comes to his senses.
“Earlier he had gone into a club and snorted Ketamine. He remembered feeling like his mind had left his body and then a voice told him to go up to the tower and jump. He clearly saw green men with arms extended waiting for his dive.” Nemdharry’s eyes widened. “Weird, eh?”
I nodded.
Garnett spoke, “So what else is in it?” He was speaking to Beadsworth.
“So far caffeine. We’ll find out the rest after the chromatography tests are done.”
Ed Burrows paced the room, sweating from the exertion. “There are pages missing,” he cried.
“What?” Ms. Zee said.
“I’ve gone through the designs three times and sections are missing.”
Ms. Zee was not amused.
“The previous chemist was playing with pills and capsules, knowing full well that they would not provide the bust you require. At Bantam I heard they had invented this innovative delivery process…”
“What is it?” she demanded.
“I didn’t work on that aspect of the drug.” He shook his head. “I worked on how each ingredient reacted to the other. That is how I know the previous chemist’s formula works. His notes were very good. He had a clear model in his head.”
“Get to the point,” Ms. Zee said.
“But for some reason his last formula was different, as if he were going in another direction-or-altering the drug entirely.”
It was more like he was sabotaging their operation, Ms. Zee thought.
“With his initial designs and process in hand, replication would be no problem. But without the missing pages we can’t do that.”
Even in death Armand had screwed them, Ms. Zee thought.
“I think I know a man who could solve that for us.”
“Where is this man?” she asked.
“I’ll find out where he is.”