“I want to look at the surveillance footage,” Maddocks said. “From when the interpreter left the hospital with me, Detective Holgersen, and the sketch artist.”
“I’ll get someone else on that. Right now I need you on surveillance at Club Orange B. Two developments—longshoremen just voted to ratify their agreement with the port. Strike was over as of ten minutes ago, and things are moving fast. The first cargo vessels that were anchored offshore are preparing to enter port as we speak. Word from Rollins is that his UC made contact, informing him that the longshoremen affiliated with the Hells Angels are edgy. Something’s about to go down, but no one seems to be able to nail exactly when—maybe in the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours. His UC suspects a shipment of smuggled women is about to enter port aboard one of those offshore vessels. Word from my UC at Club Orange B has also just come in—same thing, something’s hotting up there. We think it’s tied to the port action. Suits have been coming and going at the club. Two cargo vans have been brought in and are parked in the lot beside the club. Two females have been bringing in cases of clothes. And a hairdresser and makeup person were seen going upstairs. The upstairs rooms have been declared off-limits to the rest of club staff. UC thinks some kind of auction is going to happen. Maybe buyers being lined up for the women coming in.”
“You mean they’re cleaning up the women and selling them right out of the container, after weeks at sea?” Maddocks said, his mind shooting back to Tarasov and how her group had been fed back to health at a remote holding facility before being sold to Sabbonnier and the Bacchanalian Club.
“This strike might have thrown them off schedule. They’re cutting right to the delivery maybe.”
Maddocks swore.
“We’ve got emergency response teams getting into position around the port,” Takumi said. “We’ve got interagency ERT guys ready to respond near Club Orange. I want you in a command position at our surveillance location across the street from Club Orange B. You’re to take charge in that room. We don’t give the ERT a green light a moment too soon—if this is an auction of females, we wait until all the girls are inside that club, we wait until all the buyers are in place, and only then do you give the order. Understand?”
“Understood.”
“Full briefing with the rest of the team in—” He checked his watch. “In fifteen.” He raised his hand. “Bowditch? Over here—anything more on those inmates?”
Bowditch came over fast. “So far nothing, sir. Appears inmate Milo Belkin was stabbed in an altercation in the showers. Bled out fast. None of the inmates are saying anything. Correctional officers don’t appear to have seen anything. CCTV on the showers mysteriously went down when it happened.”
Maddocks’s heart stopped, then jackhammered. “What’s this about?”
“Two inmates tied to our Russian group died simultaneously last night, two different institutions.” Takumi turned back to Bowditch. “What about the other one, Semyon Zagorsky? Anything more on him?”
“Pathologist is saying it looks like suicide,” Bowditch replied. “Found hanged in his cell early this morning. Used strips of his pants to fashion a rope. What appears inconsistent with suicide, however, is the fact he was in the middle of writing a letter to his daughter, Mila. The letter was left on his desk unfinished.”
Mila?
“How are these two inmates connected to the Aegis investigation?” Maddocks said crisply, anxiety rising in his stomach.
Takumi faced him. “Both men were arrested in a 1993 drug bust. VPD officer lost his life in the ensuing shoot-out. It was thought at the time that the narcotics they were transporting were linked to Russian organized crime, but neither inmate gave up the identities of their associates, two of whom fled the scene. Nothing could be proven. They might have no connection at all with our barcode trafficking case, but the timing of their deaths, especially with the buzz at the port and the club, raises a big red flag.” He turned and strode away from Maddocks. “Eden? You got that report for me?”
Maddocks stared after him, sweat pricking over his skin. Angie? Where in the hell are you? What happened to get you fired? Zagorsky has a daughter named Mila? Did you go visit him, too?
He pushed out of the incident room door and hurried toward the fire escape stairs. He climbed them two at a time to the top floor and opened the door to the roof. He stepped into the chill, misty rain. He phoned Angie on his burner, watching the city below.
His call was flipped straight to voicemail—didn’t even ring. Tension crackled inside him.
He dialed Flint.
As soon as his superior answered, Maddocks said, “Can you tell me what happened with Detective Pallorino? I need to know if it’s in any way relevant to my case.”
A pause. He heard Flint getting up, closing his door. “She was terminated for breach of probation. She visited an incarcerated suspect in an active RCMP investigation using her badge. She was not authorized to do this. She’s also being investigated by the RCMP for obstruction. She withheld cold case evidence related to the floating foot case.”
“One suspect?”
“Excuse me?”
“She visited just one incarcerated subject?”
A hesitation. “Should there be more?”
“No. I don’t know. Has she handed in her badge?”
“No. We don’t know where she is. Nor do the RCMP—they’re looking for her. Her credit card records show that she checked out of her hotel in Coal Harbour last night and has gone to ground.”
Fuck!
He hung up and drew his hand over his hair.
What in the hell are you up to, Angie? Gone rogue? In trouble? Dead?
His work cell rang. He switched phones. It was Eden.
“Sergeant, Takumi needs your input to help prep for the briefing, stat. The ERT officers have just arrived.”
CHAPTER 51
It was almost two when Angie pulled up opposite the East Vancouver house of ex-exotic dancer Nadia Moss. She studied the building through the drizzle. Double story. Neat porch. The doors, window trim, and eaves painted an eggplant purple. Stained-glass detail across the top of the front windows. A baby stroller outside the front door. There was love and pride in the appearance of that house. She’d expected something different.
After returning to Vancouver, Angie had checked out of her hotel in Coal Harbour. It had been late, but she was edgy over both Maddocks’s and Zagorsky’s warnings.