“Time will tell,” replied Jack.

Over the next couple of hours, numerous people showed up and most were carrying in cases of beer and liquor.

“Celebrating his court case,” said Jack. “He won’t have a lab in there.”

“Christ, we need something,” said Connie. “You think we’d make a green light sooner or later. I’m getting sick of all these dead ends. What if he’s not even in the meth business anymore? Then what the hell —”

“Trust me,” said Jack. “He’s still in business.”

“You sound very confident,” said Connie, leaning forward in an attempt to see Jack’s face.

“Guys like this don’t quit,” he replied.

“Oh,” she said and sat back in the seat.

Over the next couple of hours a few more people arrived, but from the licence plates gathered, most appeared to be petty criminals or small-time drug traffickers.

At midnight Connie looked at her watch and said, “Guess there is no sense wasting manpower. I think I should call it off. With all the booze going in there, I bet he sleeps the day away tomorrow. I’ve still got a court brief I have to study tonight for a trial tomorrow morning. Maybe we can sit on Rodine again tomorrow night or the next day.”

“Uh … I’ve known some of these guys to be early risers,” said Jack.

“Really?” replied Connie. “Most of the criminals I know sleep until at least noon. What are you trying to pull?” she asked suspiciously. “Hoping to gaff a bunch of overtime?”

“No, I’m serious,” replied Jack. “With labs, sometimes certain chemicals have to be added at specific times. I think we should stay on him for at least forty-eight hours straight.”

“You shitting me?”

“Jack is right,” said Laura. Considering the time he spent in court, if he has a lab … and I’m sure he does, he’ll have to check it soon.”

“Put it this way,” said Jack. “Laura and I are going to sit on him all night, but it is your case. If he goes mobile and we lose him, it will be your fault.”

“Don’t you two ever sleep?” Connie asked.

“We take turns sleeping in the car,” replied Laura.

“Okay,” sighed Connie. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll leave two guys behind tonight and will put a full team back on at eight tomorrow morning. That good enough for you?”

“Guess it will have to be,” replied Jack reluctantly.

Connie got out of the car and closed the door, but paused before turning and knocking on Jack’s window. When he opened the window she leaned in to look at their faces. “Anything you’re not telling me?” she asked.

“Nope,” they both replied in unison.

“Yeah … that’s what I thought,” she said. “I’ll leave you four people instead of two.”

“Hope she never switches over to Internal,” said Jack, as they watched Connie walk away.

At six o’clock in the morning Jack reached into the back seat and shook Laura awake and said, “He’s out to the car. We’re about to be mobile,” he added, while reaching for the police radio to alert the others.

For the next half-hour, Rodine drove in and out of parking lots while constantly monitoring his rear-view mirror. Eventually he headed off and at seven o’clock he drove down an alley behind an older house in Burnaby and pulled up to an attached garage.

“Has to be the lab,” said Laura.

“Can’t see him driving in circles for any other reason,” replied Jack, while wiping the sleep from his eyes.

The police radio squawked again to announce that Connie had arrived at work. “I hear you guys are mobile. What’s going on?”

“He did a bunch of heat checks and we followed him to a dumpy old house in Burnaby. Close to the PW Brewery.”

“Think it’s a lab?”

“Good chance.”

“Did he switch vehicles like Varrick did?”

“No, but the car he’s driving isn’t registered to him.”

“I need grounds for a warrant. Can you smell anything indicating chemicals?”

“All I smell is the brewery.”

“My court case isn’t until ten. I’m on my way.”

Rodine was in the house half an hour before driving away. The surveillance team followed him to a six-level apartment building in White Rock and watched him park out front.

“Anybody able to go on foot and walk in with him?” radioed Connie.

Jack and Laura drove past the front of the building and Jack quickly grabbed the radio. “Cancel that,” he ordered. “There’s someone standing six in the lobby. Two more punks are walking out front. Everyone stay back.”

“What is this place?” asked Laura. “The Canadian Mint doesn’t have this much security.”

Jack didn’t respond as he was busy copying licence plates into his recorder as they drove down the block.

Seconds later, Rodine returned to his car, only to drive into the apartment’s underground parking garage. Five minutes later he drove back out onto the street and was followed to downtown Vancouver. After stopping at Basil Westmount’s office, he returned home.

Connie remained in Vancouver for her court case. It was later adjourned so she returned to where the surveillance team was parked at Rodine’s house. Connie got in the back seat of Jack and Laura’s car as Jack was calling in the licence plates he’d recorded from the apartment building.

Many of the plates were associated to gang members in The Brotherhood. Jack’s next call was to Dan Mylo in the Organized Crime Task Force who said that the apartment building was of particular interest. The apartment manager was a man by the name of Sy Sloan, who was the leader of one of the gangs.

“We think Sy controls the whole building as far as who is allowed to live there,” said Dan. “Sy is out of shape, but he is monstrous in size and looks intimidating. The apartment building is like a fort. He picks and chooses who lives there. You won’t get inside without them knowing. All the straight citizens have been driven out.”

“You have any wire on the occupants?” asked Jack.

“Not at the moment,” replied Dan. “Not enough grounds. If you can help us in that regard it would be much appreciated.”

“I think Rodine is delivering meth to someone in the apartment, but I don’t know who.”

“That’s the problem we’ve been having. We’ve had targets come and go, but once they’re inside that place, who knows what is going on or who they’re meeting,” said Dan.

“We need an informant,” said Jack.

“That we do, my friend, that we do.”

Jack hung up and told Laura and Connie what he had learned.

“Figure Rodine is delivering meth to The Brotherhood?” asked Connie.

“Positive,” replied Jack. “My guess is he got paid for it and then went and paid his lawyer.”

“Think maybe we should bust him next time and see if he’ll talk?” suggested Connie.

“He won’t talk,” replied Jack. “There is no incentive. Not with what he would get in court. Satans Wrath would deal out a far worse punishment. Plus we don’t have grounds to stop and search him. His first call would be to Basil Westmount.”

“Maybe you could make a UC buy from him?”

“This guy is a cook, not the dealer. Besides, even if I did, there is no incentive strong enough for him to talk.”

“Isn’t there something we can do?”

“We should do surveillance on the apartment building,” said Jack. “Figure out who more of the players are. We could get lucky. Maybe Cocktail lives in the building or visits here.”

“If we get lucky … but then what? I need evidence. Bullshit gossip doesn’t stand up. Hang on, I’m calling PPSC to see what my chances are of getting a wire on Rodine.”

Connie spoke for several minutes with a Crown Prosecutor before hanging up. She was quick to the point. “Goddamn it! Goddamn it! God-damn it! He says I don’t have grounds for either a search warrant or a wire …” She drove her fist into the back of the seat and said, “Christ this is bullshit. We don’t even know if his place near the brewery is a lab.”