Goddess of Justice Dwayne Clayden (i read book .TXT) 📖

Brad puffed his cheeks and exhaled. “Okay. You get everything. You hold my freedom in your hands.”

Sadie rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, drop the melodrama. Tell the story.”

Brad started with the death of the dealer in September, then one a few weeks ago, and the recent murders. He thought some were related. She frowned as he talked about the evidence against him.

“That sounds like a circumstantial case.”

He sat back, hands held out. “Sadie. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” Sadie frowned and shook her head. “Where does that come from?”

“Am I stupid?”

“No, you’re very smart, probably brilliant. What does that have to do with anything we’re talking about?”

“Thank you.” Brad sipped his coffee. “Do you think I’d be stupid enough to use my service pistol? That I’d drive my flashy vehicle to commit a crime?”

“You think that truck is fancy?” She smiled weakly. “When you put it that way. Who would do this?”

“The actual murderer.”

Sadie rolled her eyes. “Of course, you’d say that.”

“This murderer is devious. The murders were well planned. They were intended to appear different. We weren’t supposed to connect them. But I did. This person thought far enough ahead to know they might need to set someone up for the murders. Who better to set up than the detective investigating? Some of those murders happened at previous crime scenes where I was involved.”

“That implicates you further.”

Brad took a deep breath, exhaled, and set the coffee mug on the table.

Sadie sat silent, staring at him.

He reached behind his back. Sadie stiffened. He set his handcuffs on the table, then placed his hands next to them. “Fine. Make your call. I won’t resist.”

Sadie stared at the handcuffs. The smart play was cuff him and let the cops deal with it. More than the smart play, she’d be the reporter who captured Brad Coulter. CTV National Desk, here I come. She headed to her living room window and stared down at Royal Avenue. She wrapped her arms around her chest. She loved the view of downtown. Royal Avenue below. Not the snobbery of Mount Royal, but not the crime land north of Seventeenth Avenue.

It was her move. The bright lights and Toronto—or the unemployment line. When she thought of it that way, how could there be any doubt.

She glanced back at the table. Brad hadn’t moved. He stared at his hands. The swagger, confidence, cockiness, and the damned sarcasm was gone. He wasn’t Superman anymore. Whatever was going on, it was Kryptonite to him. Maybe the next in a lengthy line of Kryptonite. It was in his blood—he was poisoned. What the biker gangs had done. What Jeter Wolfe had put him through. What the snipers did to this city—all of it beat him up. But after getting knocked to the canvas, he got up again. This time, it wasn’t the darkness and the evil of crime, it was his own department. And that, he couldn’t fight.

Sadie headed back to the table. “You look awful.”

Slowly, he glanced up. “Thanks.”

She slid the handcuffs to him. “You might need these later. I have a spare room. You need some sleep. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Just before six in the morning, Sergeant Toscana wandered into the district sergeant’s office and shrugged off her parka.

“Good morning, Briscoe. You’re bright and early.”

Briscoe was reclined in an old office chair with a steaming coffee on the metal desk. He glanced up from the newspaper.

“Toscana. How was your night?”

She grabbed the chair opposite Briscoe. “Cold, quiet, and a waste of time. We spent the night searching for Coulter. No luck. He’s vanished.”

Briscoe tossed the newspaper on the desk and reached for his coffee. “I heard everyone he’s friends with is being watched along with their homes.”

Toscana grinned. “You’ll have a parade following you today.”

“Probably.” Briscoe sighed. “Coulter isn’t stupid enough to approach me, and certainly not during daylight hours.”

“So, I should keep my eye on you tonight?”

Briscoe grunted.

“This puts you in a terrible spot. Hunting your friend.”

Briscoe drank his coffee, then licked his lips. “Personal feelings aside, Coulter needs to turn himself in. Let the process work. If he’s innocent, justice will prevail.”

Toscana shook her head and crossed her arms. “I’m not so sure I believe that.”

Briscoe worked at something in his teeth with his tongue. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been around a long time.”

Briscoe grunted again. “Thanks. I’m not sure I can stand any more of this flattery.”

Toscana leaned forward and held out her hands defensively. “I meant nothing by that, just that the court system is broken. How many times have you sat in court and watched one of your airtight cases fall apart on some technicality? Or worse still, the suspect is released from custody long before you finish the arrest paperwork?”

“I’m not sure which side you’re on, Missy? That Coulter is innocent, and the courts will see that, or that even if he is guilty the courts will release him?”

“I’m just saying the courts are light on everyone.” Toscana shrugged. “Guilty, not guilty, seems the same sometimes. We need a better system.”

“Like France, guilty until proven innocent?”

Toscana’s face brightened. “That might work.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tuesday morning, Sturgeon sat at the conference table next to Jackson and Griffin in Archer’s office. They watched Archer pace behind his desk. Sturgeon stared at the picture of the Calgary tower at night behind Archer. While Sturgeon loved photography, he wasn’t interested in technical aspects of the photo. He was doing everything he could to avoid Archer’s eyes.

Chief Hamilton hadn’t given Archer a choice. Hamilton wanted Internal Affairs to take over the Coulter investigation. Hamilton felt IA was best suited to deal with this.

Archer firmly disagreed and had said, “Yes. Sir.” Then left the chief’s office.

Sturgeon knew the conversation with Archer would not be pleasant. He’d met Griffin for coffee before they came to the meeting. Griffin was furious with Brad, which made sense. Brad had embarrassed Griffin. They were partners, but Brad had broken that bond.