“Wearing a bathrobe?” questioned Jack.

“They had trouble with winos sleeping under the trees in their backyard at night. Maybe he heard something and went out thinking he was rousting a wino and caught these guys instead.”

“I’d say they caught him,” replied Jack. “Nothing left of his face. Whoever did him must have a hell of a temper.”

“The perp had to be doused in blood,” commented Connie. “I’m not the blood-splatter expert, but if you noticed the splashes up the back of the house, I bet he was whacked at least half a dozen times.” She gestured to a cement construction brick lying in a puddle of bleach nearby and added, “It was nice of them to leave the murder weapon behind.”

“Wasn’t so nice that they poured bleach over it afterward,” noted Jack. “Anything in here to give us a clue who they were?”

“Not that I could see, but take a look and be my guest,” replied Connie.

“A quick look,” replied Jack. “We shouldn’t be poking around in here without wearing hazmat suits. Let’s make this quick and get out.”

Jack saw a clean, square patch on the outside of a door leading to a separate room. Connie saw what he was looking at and said, “I told you they cleaned it out. Looks like they must have had a list or a picture or something on the door.”

Inside the room were several wooden benches and shelves, all with chemical stains and circular burn marks where bottles had dripped. Jack saw where acidic fumes had blackened some of the walls and ceiling. High on one wall a small exhaust fan had been left with its frame screwed into the wall. The fan was blackened with a dark film of dirt and covered a fist-sized circular hole leading to the outside. Toxic fumes had burned the rhododendrons outside.

“I was right,” said Jack. “This was their kitchen.”

“Kitchen?” replied Connie.

“Not for making pasta,” replied Jack, slowly gazing around the room. A small eyehole screw mounted in the corner of the room close to the ceiling caught his attention. His gaze followed the same height to a similar screw stuck in the wall above the door jamb. “You see that?” asked Jack.

“Couple of screws?” asked Connie.

Jack examined the top of the door and pointed to several small holes in the wood. “They had a switch mounted here,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Trip wire,” replied Jack. This place was booby-trapped. Pretty common with labs. Nasty surprise for anyone wanting to rip the place off.”

“What about cops?” replied Connie angrily. “I’d have walked right into it.”

“Don’t think they care about cops, either … or nosy neighbours, for that matter. Some of these idiots don’t realize they would get more time in jail for setting a booby trap than they do for the lab itself. Lucky for you they decided to take their stuff with them. Let’s get out of here. The fumes are really carcinogenic.”

“What’s the proper procedure now?” asked Connie.

“Drug Section has specially trained members to dismantle clandestine labs under the direction of a chemist. This has already been dismantled so I would call in a Health Inspector who will cordon off the building. The place may only need a really good cleaning or it could require renovations. As far as Forensics go, see what the Health Inspector says, but you may need to tell them to wear hazmat suits, as well.”

“What about the idiots making it? Don’t the bad guys —”

“Some take precautions or wear masks, but that is a far cry from the proper protection of a hazmat suit. If they stay at it, they end up with brains the size of walnuts or blow themselves up before they die of cancer.”

Connie nodded, but stopped to stare at Father Brown’s body. A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and glistened off the crucifix in sharp contrast to the pool of blood.

“You Catholic?” asked Jack.

Connie nodded.

“Think maybe you should turn the investigation over to someone who isn’t?”

“Why?”

“If it goes to court the defence will say that because of your belief you weren’t objective in the investigation and claim you framed whoever did this out of blind rage.”

“I may feel rage at what took place, but I’m not blind. I’m seeing this through to the end.”

Jack shrugged in response.

On their way up the outside steps, Connie gave Jack a sideways glance and said, “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would be trying to slam me on objectivity.”

“I wasn’t slamming you. Simply saying what the defence will do.”

“Well?” interrupted Laura, looking questioningly at Jack as he and Connie stepped outside.

“Clandestine lab,” said Jack.

Laura glanced at the upper portion of the house before briefly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Connie realized what Laura was thinking and she turned to Jack to ask a question that she feared she already knew the answer to. “You said carcinogenic … what about the people who live upstairs?”

“Who knows,” replied Jack. “For them it will be like living with a ticking time bomb. Never knowing if … or when it will kill you. The bad guys used an exhaust fan … maybe the people upstairs are okay … maybe not. Everyone who has spent any amount of time in the place should get checked out.”

“She was running a daycare,” said Connie quietly.

“I know,” replied Jack.

“Kids … babies,” said Laura, “everyone will have to keep checking to make sure they don’t —” she stopped, choosing instead to bite her lip to maintain control of her emotions.

Unlike Laura, Connie’s sorrow and fear was replaced with anger. “These sons of bitches killed a priest,” she said vehemently. “They had the place booby trapped … meth lab in a daycare … they don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.” She unconsciously clenched her fist as she stared at Jack. “I want these guys. I want them behind bars for the rest of their lives.”

“You and me both,” said Jack sombrely. “We’ll meet with Gabriel and show her the pictures. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

All three of them stared up at the house and took a moment to regain control of their emotions. Connie was the first to talk. “I’m told Gabriel is distraught and in shock,” she cautioned. “Time is of the essence. I want her to be able to focus right now, so don’t tell her about the cancer stuff. When you’re done, I’ll take a statement from her, after which I’ll tell her to go to the doctor. The sooner we can find these guys the better.”

Jack sighed and said, “Okay, the ugly part of introducing her to her future nightmares will be left to you.”

“Along with contacting all the parents who brought their children here,” added Laura.

Connie nodded in agreement and said, “The pictures might be our best bet. Got a feeling that Forensics will be a dead end. I’d like to get these assholes before they’ve destroyed any more evidence. With the amount of blood the actual killer would have on him, even if he showers, we might still find trace amounts under his nails or up his nose and in his ears … providing we get him soon.”

“We’ll let you know in about an hour,” replied Jack.

Jack and Laura spent the next forty-five minutes sitting with Gabriel at her kitchen table while Jack presented a slide show on his laptop of all the bikers he knew in British Columbia, along with their friends and associates.

During this time, Noah sat in the living room while Faith, not understanding what had happened, was content to lie under a blanket on the sofa and snooze.

“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel, when the slide show ended. “I don’t think any of these people are them.” She wiped her eyes again, barely controlling her tears as she had during the entire process. Jack knew that her grief over Father Brown was genuine and her inability to help added to her grief.

“The men who were in my basement looked nice,” sniffled Gabriel. “They didn’t look dirty or have long hair and beards like most of the people in these pictures.”