Page 85 of The Attercop

The rest happened quickly. Two officers grabbed Julie, cuffed her and led her away. Two other officers got to Tyler and restrained him. His wrist was bleeding from where the knife had been shot out of his hand, but he was still alive.

Sam ran to Tyler. “Give me the keys to the locks on the table,” he demanded.

Tyler spat in his face.

Sam found Tyler’s clothes and rifled through the pockets. He located the keys and released Declan, who got up slowly.

Sam grinned. “Hell of a way to spend a Friday night. It’s a little kinky for my taste.” He gave Declan a quick hug. “Would someone get him a blanket and cover him up…for all of our sakes.” He pointed at Tyler Chipping. “And get this guy out of here before I hit him!”

Two of the officers took Tyler out, while one of the others worked on freeing Charlie. As soon as he was released, he ran to Declan, practically knocking him over.

“How the hell did you ever pull that off?” Declan asked.

Charlie pointed at his smart watch. “Best birthday gift ever! Not only did it allow Sam and Gary to track me from a distance, but it recorded everything that Julie…or Jules as you know her…said on the way over. And when I got here, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to talk through all of Tyler’s actions, so we have that on record as well. Oh, it also has a panic button that I used to let the police know when to break in.”

“I think that one’s a keeper,” Sam said.

Declan held on tight to Charlie, then kissed him. “Charlie Watts, you never cease to amaze me.”

Declan pulled away. “Gary, you need to send someone to Simon Griffin’s old house in Banff and apprehend Jasmine Robertson. She was the housekeeper. She’s heading up Monarch and she was behind all of this. Charlie has the proof.”

“Got it,” Gary said. “I’ll also have the police put out a watch at all of the airports, and anywhere else she might be.”

Sam interrupted. “I know you two have got a lot to talk about, but if we’re going to do this right, we’ll need to get your statements. And, Charlie, you’ll have to forward the recordings from your watch to Gary. I’ll let you know if they get Jasmine.”

One of the cops returned with a blanket and draped it around Declan’s shoulders.

Declan looked at Charlie. “Promise me no more babysitting cases.”

Charlie laughed. “Agreed.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jasmine Robertson sat in a private jet on the runway of the Springbank Airport just west of Calgary. She had been waiting for an important call—one that would change everything. The phone rang and she answered without identifying herself. “Hello… Thank you for watching… I’m sorry to hear that… Your money is already in the bank.” She disconnected and signalled to the flight attendant. “Would you please tell the pilot that we’re no longer expecting guests and that she should take off immediately.”

Jasmine looked out of the window as the plane taxied onto the runway. It would take a little over an hour to fly to Vancouver. By the time she arrived, she would have curly grey hair, milky blue eyes—thanks to some clever contact lenses—and she would be travelling in a wheelchair. Nobody ever questioned someone they perceived to be older, vulnerable, and moneyed. The British passport she had chosen identified her as Samantha Fleck. Once she arrived in Vietnam, she would decide who she wanted to be. There were endless possibilities for her with Monarch. And if the law tried to tie her to the events that had happened tonight in a basement room in Calgary, they would have to find her first. Even if they did, Canada didn’t have an extradition treaty with Vietnam. She would have time to separate herself from the fray.

Jasmine was disappointed with her children. They had failed—not only her, but Monarch. She reflected on how this had all started, back when she was Gloria Chipping. She recalled the day that her ex-husband, William, had beaten her so badly that shethought she was going to die. He’d been angry with her because he had claimed she’d been careless with their daughter, Julie, in the bathtub. The child had nearly drowned. Julie was just a few years old at the time. Her older brother Tyler was only five.

Maybe she had meant to drown her daughter. Gloria hadn’t been well suited for motherhood. All she’d known was that after that last beating, she’d had to get away. She had vowed to make her own way in the world and never be trapped again by an ungrateful husband, or needy children.

The first few months had been rough. She’d gone from shelter to shelter, uncertain of her next move. But things had taken a turn for the better when she met Harlen Feist. At the time, she’d completely run out of money and had turned to an escort agency as a source of income. Harlen was one of her first clients, and they’d hit it off. For some reason, she had poured out her story of woe and confessed more than she’d intended. She had talked of wanting her husband dead. She had confessed that she found her children distasteful. She had admitted that, at this point in her life, she no longer cared what others thought of her.

Harlen had held her in his arms. They hadn’t even had sex. Instead, he’d asked if she wanted to do something for him…something small. All she had to do was go to an address, pick up a package, deliver it, then leave. He would pay her a lot of money. She had shrugged it off at the time, but agreed to do so and delivered the parcel as requested. A few days later, she’d read an item in the newspaper. The police were on the lookout for a woman who had delivered a package that had blown up and killed the recipient. She matched the description in the newspaper of the person of interest.

Gloria still had Harlen Feist’s number and had called him in a panic. He’d soothed her and said he would make sure the police never tracked her down. He’d said he would help her disguise herself. In fact, he’d said he was so impressed with Gloria, that,if she was interested, he had some other jobs for her. Part of her had been angry because she felt like she’d been used again. But part of her liked the power. Harlen had explained that she would be helping to get rid of bad people in the world. She’d said yes, and discovered that she had unknowingly joined the Monarch family.

Initially she’d only done small errands, and Harlen was always impressed with how convincing she was in the various roles she played while she did Monarch’s bidding.

He’d paid her well, and as time went by, he’d said that he wanted her to have a more stable home base. He had an idea. There was a man who was climbing the ranks of Monarch named Simon Griffin. He had a beautiful home in Banff. If she was willing, he would place her there as his housekeeper. Simon would understand that she was discrete, and could be trusted, but he would never know that she was actually working for Harlen. That’s when she took on a more permanent persona—Jasmine Robertson.

She had taken great pleasure in all of this. Great pleasure in the fact that she had a big secret. She’d loved that she had started to do things for Monarch in a way that only Harlen knew about. And, in return, he’d given her passports and disguises and money. He’d even arranged for the contractors who were constructing an addition on Simon’s house to build a little secret spot in Jasmine’s room where she could hide things. And Simon had never suspected a thing. Nobody had. She was like a mole within the organisation. Jasmine had worked her connections in ways that would have made a James Bond villain blush.

The only downside was that Simon had a son named Milo. He wasn’t a bad kid, but he was nosy and troublesome, and he was unhappy. She’d known that he wanted to run away, and had arranged it so that an opportunity was available to him—car keyseasily accessible, the security gate left open, and a backup plan to get rid of him, if all failed. That was over ten years ago.

Milo had disappeared. Things had settled into a routine…that was, until a few years back. Jasmine had read an article about her ex-husband. He was stirring up trouble connected to a police task force. She wondered what had become of her children and discovered that they had both made the papers…in a small way. Julie had been arrested for breaking and entering, and car theft. The older sibling had been implicated in a gambling ring, and the making of pornographic movies.

Jasmine wasn’t sure if it was some dormant maternal instinct, or raw curiosity, but she’d decided to get in touch with them. An idea had begun to form. Her children seemed to have a sense of amorality that could be put to good use.