Once back in their own office, Jack turned to Laura and said, “Call Commercial Crime. Tell them to dig up everything they can on Oskar Cruickshank. Companies Branch, everything.”

“Will do,” replied Laura as she sat down.

“Also ask them about insurance companies and what records are kept as to who is paid. Make sure they know everything has to be confidential. If Oskar gets word that we’re making inquiries about him, we’ll be hooped. Tell them to run Virgil’s name as well and make sure he’s not tied in more than he is telling us.”

“Got it.”

“I would like to know what they have by first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You’re talking Commercial Crime. They don’t do anything fast.”

“I know, but this isn’t a ten-year fraud case with a truckload of paper to examine. We’re talking murder.”

“I’ll ask, but tomorrow morning?”

“I know it’s pushing it, but let them know that three people’s lives may depend upon how fast they get their results.”

“Not to mention letting you-know-who run around in the meantime.”

“Keep that one to yourself. It didn’t work so well when I tried to explain that to Inspector Dyck.”

“So I gather.”

“While you’re doing that, I’ll call a contact in the States and see what they know.”

Twenty minutes later, Laura hung up the phone and looked at Jack who had a phone in his hand, but was on hold. “What have you got?” he whispered.

“Commercial Crime doesn’t have anything on Oskar Cruickshank, but will check with their sources. I don’t know if we’ll have a reply by morning or not. What do you want me to do now?”

“Go home and go to bed. I want you back at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. I think it is going to be a long day.”

“And today wasn’t? Or was that yesterday and today? Or … you know what I mean. How are you making out?”

“On hold with a buddy of mine. Jim-Bo is with the DEA in San Diego and is running the names on computer.”

“Close enough to L.A.,” noted Laura. “Want me to wait until you’re done?”

“No. Go home and get some sleep.”

“Hope I can,” she said, as she stood up. “Think I’ll take Mister Smith and Wesson to bed and leave my balcony door open.”

Jack gave her a thumbs-up sign as she left the office.

Jack knew what she meant about not being able to sleep. Are we doing the right thing? His thoughts turned to Amanda and Megan as the bile and acid swirled higher inside his empty stomach.

“Y’all still there?” asked Jim-Bo.

“I’m still here,” replied Jack, turning his attention back to the phone.

“Might take a few more days to check for insurance and company-type stuff, but I did come up with a couple of things.”

“Good, I’m ready,” said Jack, poising his pen over a piece of paper.

“The first is on Virgil Cruickshank. There isn’t a date of birth on the report we have, but the name is unusual. My guess is it’s the same guy. It’s a report from eight years ago March, where a CI said a Virgil Cruickshank was suspected of running meth down to California from Canada.”

“I’ve received the same information recently,” said Jack. “It is definitely the same guy. What was the other thing?”

“LAPD have a brief report. Goes back to December eight years ago. An inquiry from a Captain Brent Morgan in the LAPD. He wanted to know if there was anything dirty concerning Oskar and Virgil Cruickshank, or a guy by the name of Ben Pike.”

“Ben Pike is a new name for me,” said Jack, writing it down. “What do you have on him?”

“Nothing. The only thing Captain Morgan would have learned from his inquiry at the time, was the same report I told you about Virgil moving meth.”

“Morgan didn’t say why he was interested?”

“No. Eight years is a long time, but still, do you want me to track him down and ask? Or have him call you?”

“Please. It’s urgent.”

“What isn’t?” noted Jim-Bo, hanging up.

Jack finished typing a brief report outlining the information received from Virgil and the investigative steps taken so far. He was putting his jacket on to go home when his phone rang. It was Brent Morgan who was now retired and calling from his home in L.A.

After the niceties were exchanged, Morgan said, “I dug out my old notebook. It wasn’t me who was interested, but a past acquaintance of mine by the name of Tom Donald. Tom said a friend of his by the name of Paul Jennings had been hired to work for Oskar Cruickshank. Tom figured these guys were up to no good and was worried about his friend.”

“What prodded Tom to think these guys were dirty?”

“Tom is in the music business. He’s a straight guy, but has seen a lot of bad things associated with people connected to the industry. He’s also pretty good at reading people. Turns out he was right about one of them. Virgil was into the drug scene, but Oskar and Ben Pike were clean. Pike worked for Oskar, but Virgil had nothing to do with the company.”

“Do you have the company name?”

“Yup, right here. It was called Pacific Ethical Fund Consulting Services.”

“Thanks. Is Tom the kind of guy you would trust to keep his mouth shut if he knew I was interested in these guys?”

“Oh, for sure,” replied Morgan.

“Good. Any chance you could talk to him and see if there is anything else he could give? I’m hearing some rumours that Oskar Cruickshank is involved in multiple murders.”

“No kidding? I told you Tom was good at reading people.”

“I believe you,” replied Jack, trying to stifle a yawn.

“But I haven’t talked to him since the day I made the inquiries for him. You can probably find him better than me. He’s Canadian. Last I heard he was living in Vancouver and doing some sort of consulting work in the music industry.”

It didn’t take Jack long to located Tom Donald, who agreed to meet him an hour later in a coffee shop. After they each described what they were wearing, Jack hung up.

Virgil threw back the covers and gave up on the idea of being able to sleep. Too many things were racing through his mind, including Laura.

That fucking bitch grabbing me by the throat and tripping me! She wouldn’t have dared try it if she was alone and if I wasn’t handcuffed …

He thought about the trip he had to take over to Victoria to see his brother and knew there was something he must do.

Moments later, Virgil stuck his knife and his ski mask under his shirt and went to his car.

Chapter Eleven

Jack met Tom in a coffee shop as scheduled. After initial introductions where Tom closely examined Jack’s police identification, both men ordered a coffee and waited for it to arrive before talking.

“So, on the phone you said you were investigating Oskar Cruickshank,” said Tom. “By the looks of you … your goatee, dark circles under your eyes —” he smiled “— I bet you you’re a narc who spends half his time working nights on surveillance and that you’re going to tell me he is moving dope?”

“You’re close, but actually I work on an Intelligence Unit dealing with organized crime.”

“Oh, the heavy stuff,” said Tom matter-of-factly.

“I’ve heard rumours that Oskar’s brother, Virgil, is moving dope. I’m hearing other nasty things about Oskar.”

“Organized crime.” Tom as took a sip of coffee. “Well, that figures. I thought Oskar was too smooth.”

“And you were checking them out because you were worried about a friend who was working for Oskar?”

“Back then, a buddy of mine by the name of Paul Jennings got a job with Oskar’s company. Except for maybe smoking pot, Paul was a real straight guy. He wouldn’t be involved with any company he thought would be doing anything wrong. He told me the company was into some sort of ethical-investment thing.”