The conversation continued for several minutes, but eventually it was decided that Drug Section would continue with their undercover operation in the hope of gaining grounds to apply for a wiretap on people connected with Goldie Locks. Jack and Laura would start doing surveillance of Goldie and his nightclub to see what they could learn.

“Keep me informed of all the players,” said CC. “If you do get a wire, maybe we can match somebody up with a younger brother affiliated with a youth gang. Or someone with a kid demented enough to murder a homeless guy.”

“The kid had to be old enough to drive a van,” said Sammy. “Makes him sixteen, at least.”

CC laughed and said, “You ever been to Surrey? Half the stolen cars are taken by kids a lot younger than that. The footprint we found at the scene could be from a twelve-year-old.”

“Good point,” said Sammy, shaking his head.

“How long before you think you’ll bring the UC op to an end?” asked Laura.

“We’re already halfway through July,” replied Sammy. “We’re supposed to have things wrapped up by the first week of August at the latest.” Sammy looked apologetic as he glanced at CC and added, “I have to tell you, it doesn’t look good that we’ll connect with any of the big players. Our budget can’t afford the hundreds of thousands of dollars it would take to buy at their level. They deal multi-kilos. We have a budget that is at the ounce level.”

“Don’t worry about it,” replied CC. “It’s a hell of a long shot, anyway. Even though Jack and Laura did trace the gun to Goldie’s doorstep, it doesn’t mean that anyone he knows had it. Angelo and Dominic may have tossed it before they … well, disappeared.”

Jack and Laura looked at each other and she gave a subtle shake of her head. Jack thought the same way. If Angelo and Dominic didn’t toss away the gun when they kneecapped Bernie, they likely didn’t toss it away over shooting someone in the arm. And what twelve-year-old kid would throw a gun away?

Laura saw Jack smile at her. It was a smile she had seen before. He’s got a plan.

It was eight o’clock Tuesday night when Jack found a place to park in an alley one block down from the rear door of the Goldie Locks nightclub. He rested the binoculars on the steering wheel to hold them steady and was able to see Goldie’s car parked behind the nightclub. It was a new Aston Martin V8 Vantage Roadster with a custom gold paint job, complete with vanity plates reading GOLDIE. Laura was in another car, and found a place to watch the front of the nightclub.

An hour went by before Arthur Goldie appeared out the back door of his club. Jack noted that Goldie’s physique made him relatively easy to see. He was a tall man with a thin body, which made his hands, feet, and head look extra large and gangly in comparison. He was forty-three years old and kept the hair on the sides of his head shaved short, but had a mop of thick brown hair on the top of his head. He was dressed in khaki-coloured slacks and an open moss-green windbreaker that revealed a canary-yellow golf shirt underneath.

“We’ve got action out back,” radioed Jack. “Looks like he’ll be eastbound in the alley.”

“I’ll see him when he comes out,” replied Laura.

“Keep it loose,” cautioned Jack. “I don’t want him to see our faces yet.”

“It’ll be real loose, out of sight, if he steps on the gas with what he’s driving,” replied Laura. A moment later she said, “Okay, got him. Turning north from the alley. What’s he got on the top of his head?”

“Just his hair,” replied Jack, while turning north on the street one block west of Goldie before making a quick right on Robson Street to catch up.

“Looks like a dead rat.”

“Think the rat is under the hair.”

“Copy that,” snickered Laura. “Okay, he’s picked up a ruby coming on to Robson. No indicator on, looks like he’ll be going straight through.”

Jack glanced at Goldie’s club as he drove past and then entered the left turn lane at the next light. He spotted the Aston Martin to his right where it was still parked, waiting for the light to change.

For the next ten minutes Jack and Laura followed Goldie. Eventually, he parked in another alley behind a restaurant before entering through the rear door. Unlike many criminals Jack had worked on, Goldie seldom checked his rear-view mirror and did not drive in a manner to detect if he was being followed. Is he really an innocent business man? Or does he feel safe because he thinks he is so immune and protected by others who do the dirty work?

“Keep an eye on his wheels,” radioed Jack. “I’m going on foot to walk past the front of the restaurant to see if I can spot who he’s meeting. He either owns the place or has to be on good terms with someone to walk in through the back. I’ll call you on your cell.”

Jack glanced in through the front windows of the Wang Hui Chinese Restaurant as he strolled past. He didn’t spot Goldie, but did see a group of Asian men sitting around some tables that had been pushed together. By their boisterous mannerisms and the way they were dressed, Jack had the distinct impression that they were gang-affiliated … and not the boy scouts. He spoke to Laura on her cell and relayed his observations.

“Sounds interesting,” replied Laura. “Want to start scooping licence plates? Maybe find out who —” her words broke off suddenly. “Hold it, Goldie’s out again and chatting in the alley with some guy. Short, barrel-chested Asian wearing black, baggy pants, and a red golf shirt. Maybe forty to fifty years old.”

“The restaurant is Chinese,” said Jack. “Bet it’s the owner.”

“Okay, that was quick,” continued Laura. “Goldie is back to his wheels and the red golf shirt went back inside the restaurant. Your call. Want me to stay with Goldie?”

“No, let him go. I don’t want to heat him up. Let’s watch this place and see if we can figure out who the clientele is and what is going on that would require a back-alley meeting.”

Over the next couple of hours, Jack and Laura recorded numerous licence plates of people coming and going from the restaurant. They also noted a pay phone outside the restaurant was used frequently by the clientele, some of whom clearly had cellphones.

By noon the following day, Jack’s and Laura’s desks were piled high with paper. They identified the owner of the restaurant as Hui Wang, who named his restaurant in the Asian fashion of Wang Hui Chinese Restaurant by using his surname first. It was also discovered that Wang was the owner of a furniture store called Wang’s House of Bamboo.

What Jack found of particular interest was that Wang had been charged for trafficking in crystal meth several years earlier, but was not convicted after someone else claimed ownership for the drug.

Laura glanced at the mug shot of Wang and confirmed that he was the man in the red golf shirt.

Jack discovered that he was partially right in that the clientele belonged to a gang. In fact, there were three different Asian gangs represented by the clientele. The Big Circle Boys, Sun Yee On triad, and some who had been listed by the Vancouver Police Department’s Anti-Gang Unit as belonging to gangs who were unnamed. Their criminal records included: attempted murder, kidnapping, assault, extortion, pimping, auto theft, identity and credit card theft, and drug trafficking.

“Except none of the drug trafficking is heroin,” said Jack, looking at the different records. “These guys are all into ecstasy and meth. If Goldie is involved with heroin, then he’s visiting the wrong crowd.”

“Maybe Wang plans on adding to his menu,” suggested Laura.

“Maybe, but something doesn’t sit right,” replied Jack. “Goldie seems much more sophisticated. The Chinese we saw were basically a bunch of hoods strutting around like Hollywood gangsters. They all seem close-knit. To me, Goldie doesn’t fit in.”