Chapter 151

The phone call was directed to Staff Sgt. Keetch, at his desk.
He took it and conversed tensely with the woman for several seconds, then jolted out of his chair and rapped wildly on the Plexiglas wall of the penalty box.
Sgt. Digby and Cpl. Agarwal both looked up from behind their cubicles.
Keetch wrapped the phone cord around his forearm and ran with it around the desk, then kicked his door open:
“Biz!”
Digby stood up in her cublicle and ran to the penalty box.
Keetch passed her the telephone, without a word.
“Hello?”
“Hello,” a pleasant woman’s voice said. “Sgt. Digby?”
“Yes?”
“Cpl. Theriault with Homicide Squad, Vancouver PD.”
“Vancouver?”
“Yes. I was telling your CO about a body we have, found in the downtown Eastside. We believe he’s the subject of your Canada-wide. His ID gave his name as John Dee, 18. That’s your known alias, is it not?”
“Oh man.My God. A body? John Dee’s dead?”
“Yes. Yesterday. He was DOA in the street. It’s -I guess- you could say, a pretty clear homicide. Some witnesses are saying that somebody dropped a cinderblock on his head, from a rooftop, as he was walking by on the street.”
“Oh my God…”
“So. Kurtis Missions? He killed three people?”
“We believe he did. Yes, that’s correct. He’s-”
“Wow. And he molested a child, seemingly?”
“We believe he did that too, yes. We have his DNA in that case.”
“Wow. Holy…”
“Um. So, I need to come out there, right away. Today. I need to see his body.”
Staff Sgt. Keetch began to frown, seeing expense claims flash before his eyes.
“I understand,” the Vancouver cop said. “We’re conducting a full standard investigation. You’re welcome to come and take a look. It’s probably an isolated incident, but… who knows? We’re treating it like any other homicide. Except… you know. The higher profile. If this was a very twisted murderer, himself, the victim.”
“High profile…?” Digby said.
“Well, I imagine the press will eventually get wind of… who the victim was.”
Digby smiled to herself. This was, indeed, a big deal.
A triple murderer/pedophile had been brutally killed in a public street.
A vigilante action? Or was it gang related? Either way, Sgt. Digby’s double homicide was very likely closed for good, with a big helping of press coverage to seal the deal.
The media would be all over this like Newfies on moosemeat, coast to coast, and no doubt around the world.
Digby could see herself on TV, with a CNN crawl running across her dress black uniform.
“Are you releasing the ID today? Are you holding a press conference?”
“We probably will, yes,” the Vancouver cop said, almost sheepishly. “This afternoon. It will be easier that way. To tell everybody, all at once. There is going to be a high level of media interest. We anticipate even international media interest.”
“What time is the press conference?”
“Three o’clock, at our Cambie Street headquarters.”
Digby glanced at Keetch.
He rubbed his thumb and first three fingers together, giving the gesture for ‘money,’ then shook his head.
No.
Digby turned away. “I’m going to be there. Don’t start the show without me.”