The Man In The Brush: Deadly Introductions

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Four Years Before "Little Old Lady..." (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20137)

The body was found shortly after midnight near Oppenheimer Park's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oppenheimer_Park_%28Vancouver%29) lone softball field. A young teenaged couple, looking to take a shortcut from Cordova to Powell, literally stumbled upon the body hidden within the brush. At first they believed it was some drunk who'd probably passed out after drinking too much rye. But when the girl rose with bloody knees and hands, they'd immediately called 911 for help.

Vancouver police arrived about ten minutes later to discover the couple, having now completely forgotten the movie they were going to go see, pale and, in their words, freaking out about the entire ordeal. After several babbling questions later, Detective Patrick Killroy had walked over to where the body was. He understood immediately how they felt.

The back of the body's head was mostly missing and it looked like it had been shot off execution style. Killroy stifled the urge to puke and bent down to examine the victim further. The man's hands had been handcuffed behind his back and a cursory inspection of the hands showed he hadn't put up any fight at all. Almost seemed like the guy had accepted his fate without complaining. Killroy noted the victim was wearing a jacket, suit pants, nice shoes, dark socks and a silver watch. As if he hadn't needed enough evidence to rule out robbery, the fact the watch hadn't been stolen did. From what Killroy to could tell, it appeared the victim'd died where he'd fallen.

Killroy called his partner over. "Think we'll find anyone who heard the shots?"

His partner, a heavyset man with stubble on face, shook his head. "Oppenheimer Park's a helluva lot nicer than it was a few years back, but I doubt it. People aren't always gonna look out their window to see what's going on."

"Ain't that the damn truth." Killroy agreed and reached into the victim's pants pocket for a wallet. "Let's see who the poor bastard is...oh shit!"

**********************************

Aurelias Kazaar's cell went off about seven minutes later and he almost ignored it. He was off duty and currently on his third shot. It'd been doing a while since he'd done this, drowning out what happened in the Major Crimes Section while also trying to ignore his own thoughts. His partner, Nick Halstrom made him promise to stay off the booze and Kazaar'd been mostly successful. But tonight he'd made an exception. The anniversary. He had to celebrate it somehow, and if it meant going to a pub and getting three sheets to the wind then fine. He'd be slightly hungover the next day but it wouldn't affect how he worked. If it did, then Halstrom would send him home to sober up. It hadn't happened in three years and they were both hoping it wouldn't happen again.

It was how their partnership worked. Halstrom made sure Kazaar was sober and they both made sure the bad guys were put in jail. Pissed off some others in the department but Kazaar never gave a shit about that. Halstrom and his wife had been there for him in a pretty rough time. Actually, a real fucked up time. Wasn't always your partner came out to your cabin on Horseshoe Bay (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horseshoe_Bay,_West_Vancouver) to make sure you hadn't drowned after a week of drinking.

The phone went off again and Kazaar scowled. It was his commander, Captain Jon Sultan. "Are you sober? Get down to Oppenheimer Park. Halstrom's dead."

Kazaar was there five minutes later doing his best to ignore the alcohol and partially thanking for it too. Who knows how he would have reacted had he been sober. Probably would have 12 laws getting there. Instead he only broke six. One of them was driving his Harley across Oppenheimer Park's grass to get to the crime scene.

He flashed his badge and ran past the crime scene tape. Killroy greeted him solemnly. "What the fuck happened, Killer? Ya sure it's Nick?"

"We're sure Kazaar." Killroy ignored the use of the nickname Kazaar'd given him. Damn drunk was always coming up with nicknames. How the hell was he here?

"Give me a status update." He tried to get around Killroy to no avail.

"Can't Kazaar. This ain't your case."

"That's my fuckin' partner lying there an' ya gonna make a big deal 'bout the fact it ain't my fuckin' case? What the fuck's wrong with you?" For a moment it appeared the tall, dark-haired detective was gonna punch Killroy to get around him. The two glowered at each other for 30 seconds before separating. It wouldn't help if they went at it here.

"I can't let you go Kazaar, I'm sorry." Killroy actually sounded like he meant it. "Narcotics is still finishing their case of the scene."

"Narcotics?!?"

Killroy gave a twisted smile. "Didn't you know? They found coke and some other unknown drug with your partner."

A loud bellow and the sounds of a scuffle followed causing the forensic officers and narcotics detectives to look to see what the commotion was. Killroy was on the ground and Kazaar was marching straight towards them, fire coming from his black eyes.

"I wanna know what th'hell's goin' on here." His guttural voice almost bellowed as he got closer. "Who the fuck's in charge here."

[Estelle Russard]

"I am, Asshole" Russards voice came over crisp and clearly unimpressed, "And you are stomping all over my crime scene"

Estelle glared at the dishevelled Kazaar bulldozing his way into her investigation and stomping his size 11 shoes in the spongey grass with clear disregard for protocol, "Someone get this idiot out of here"

"He's Halstrom's partner" a helpful pleb whispered to her as she came about on an interception course between Aurelias and the inert body on the ground.
"I dont care if he's Peirre-freakin-Trudeau, he get's him and his cheap suit off my turf or" she sniffed exageratedly, "I'll impound that crapheap bike of his and toss him in the drunk-tank, citing him for DUI"

Standing toe to toe with Aurelias, Russard eyeballed him hard. She knew who he was, by reputation. Being new to Narcotics Division didn't make her 'new.' She had, in fact, cringed when Killroy identified the vic as Halstrom. Nothing good could come of this, she'd thought at the time and it was only confirmed by the arrival of Halstroms beligerent partner. She'd fillay whoever the looselipped jerk was that had called Kazaar in. Her glare hardened, "I suggest you take a cab home, Dee-tective. I wasn't kiddin about the drunk tank thing."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"I'm sober." Kazaar scowled back. Who th'fuck was this bitch? "Ya sober up pretty quickly when ya find out ya damn partner's been offed!"

Russard was about five inches shorter than Kazaar but acted like they were eye-to-eye. "Doesn't matter. You're intruding into my crime scene. We've got everything under control here. You can read my report when we send it over to homicide."

"Yeh you'd like that wouldn't you bitch." As if to show he wasn't about to leave, Kazaar pulled out a small cigar, cut the tip off of it and lit it. "Might be a narco investigation but a homicide means we get part of th'damn action too."

He smirked. "And I don't see any other homicide detectives around."

"Tough Kazaar. The call's already been made. You're out."

"Oh bullshit..." The female detective wasn't wearing a name tag. Dammit. "...sweetheart. I'm on scene. I know the vic and who might've had it out for him."

Estelle's expression twisted into almost rage at Kazaar's insubordinate smirk. "I don't care if you're the best damn investigator in Vancouver..."

"I am."

"Shut the hell up Kazaar. You're not authorised for this investigation. I'm sorry Halstrom got killed, but it's not your bloody case it's mine. And right now, I care more about how coke and some drug I can't ID got on Halstrom than your damn need to get vengeance. Or do you want to tell me what you were doing this evening?"

Kazaar felt his teeth grind and lost it. "Fuck you bitch. I'm your best investigator right now and Captain Sultan was the one who asked me to come here. And I doubt it was t'go buy ya Timmy Horton's. You want to take it up with him...go right ahead. But before ya get ya thong even more inna wad, why don't ya lemme know what's the hell's going on.

"Especially so I can go tell Halstrom's widow why her husband ain't coming home."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle was smiling at him, actually smiling. Well, really, it was more of a half-smirk - the reason for which became perfectly clear when Kazaar felt each of his arms taken ahold of, a man coming up on either side of him, and pulled back to be pinned together by a pair of stainless-steel cuffs.

"You gotta be kiddin' me" he said, trumped.

"No, no. No kidding from this 'sweetheart'. You'll soon see Im really quite literal with most the things I say, detective. Put him in the car." Her partners were more than happy to oblige, Kazaar hadn't really ever done much to cultivate friends among his peers.

As Kazaar was led off towards where the vehicles were parked, Russard turned her attention back to Halstrom's body. Crouching beside him, she inspected him closely, not registering other than that had already been established - gangland execution in style, no sign of struggle. "Poor bastard" she murmured softly, "What the hell were you caught up in?"

It was some time before the police car door opened and Estelle slid in beside Aurelias. If looks could kill, she'd have been dead ten feet on approach to the vehicle.


"So, have you cooled down some?" she asked coyly. Kazaar responded with an intensified glare and some further expletives, and, as the ambulance was pulling away from the park - his partners remains zipped up in a plastic bodybag within - Kazaar's dark eyes followed it, the illumination of red and white swirling lights lending a sinister gleam to their black depths.

"We'll take care of notifying Halstrom's wife. You are in no fit state to be doing something so delicate. You'll thank me later."

She rattled his hand cuffs, physically reiterating his position.
"You do realise the mess you're in, right detective?" Estelle was watching him carefully and Kazaar's brow furrowed. Clearly, he did not.

Estelle proceded to elaborate. "Your coming here only makes you look worse, the implications..." She let the words hang momentarily to allow revelation to sink into Kazaar's understanding. Still, he was a bit slow - the burboun probably. "..Some could say you were doing your best to sabotage evidence tonight, Kazaar. Some might wonder why you were in the general vicinity and on scene so quickly..." Russard dipped her head to peek into Kazaar's eyes, see if he was catching this, to see if any switches were flicking on.

"What calliber is your weapon Detective Kazaar?" Estelle reached forward over to the front seat and her partner, Arnold Savoy, handed her Aurelias's gun, which he had relieved him of earlier and placed in a plastic baggie. She held it as if it were repugnant. "Same as the calliber in your partner's bean, Im thinking." And there it was...the light came on. She'd finally penetrated Kazaar's anger and she was coming in loud and clear. She - they - suspected his involvement. Suspected he was dirty and had offed his partner. Kazaar swore. Again.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

This was bullshit. Completely and utter bullshit.

Kazaar was being railroaded by some long-legged narc detective bimbo, who probably saw an opportunity to slide over into homicide. Major Crimes was a great spot to be in, one where only the best (and sometimes strangest) investigators ended up. Kazaar being the best example of this.

His smirk was about as dirty as possible. "Didn't they teach ya how t'frisk people lady. Or are ya narcs too busy snortin' ya evidence t'get a shit about backup pieces. Like the one pressin' up against my spine right now."

Estelle's eyes widened for a moment and she looked at Savoy. He shrugged. Either Kazaar was bluffing or he really had a weapon in his back. Savoy nodded and Russard reached behind Kazaar's back.

"Try not t'accidentally grope me back there sweetie. I'll sue ya f'sexual harassment."

She snorted. "Shut up Kazaar. You couldn't even get the union to back you if you offered to pay them double your dues." Russard pulled the snub-nosed .38 special out from its holster hidden behind the detective's belt. "Do they know you carry a backup weapon?"

Kazaar snorted. "Don't tell me ya don't."

Estelle's voice was smooth. "I'm the one asking questions Kazaar." She stepped out of the police cruiser. "Savoy. Get this sorry excuse for a police officer the hell out of here. I'll question him later."

She was pretty sure Kazaar was still staring at her as she walked back towards the crime scene.

Surprisingly, Kazaar wasn't. He was busy doing the exact same thing Estelle was doing. Trying to figure out who killed Halstrom. And why. His mind starting going through all the cases the two had worked. Especially the ones which could be linked to drugs.

There wasn't many. Two months ago, they busted a small-time dealer named, Winnick, for murdering a client for not paying a $250 debt. Then there was the guy named Bieska who was locked up after he snorted up a ton of coke and murdered six people over the course of eight hours. But both of those guys were currently locked up, Bieska at Kent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kent_Institution) and last he heard Winnick was in Alberta facing similar charges. Kazaar doubted either of those were responsible for his partner's death.

So who did it? And who else might they be after?

Kazaar tried to remember the earlier conversation he'd had with Halstrom before they'd parted ways after their shift.

"Don't do it Aurelias. It's a bad idea." Halstrom placed a gentle hand on Kazaar's shoulder.

"Ya know I'm gonna be all right Nicky. Just goin' to Doolin's (http://www.doolins.ca/about.php) for dinner." Kazaar had given his best tired smile at the time.

"Aurelias. Don't kid a kidder. I know what day it is. And I know how you get. It'll just be one Molson and then you'll be drinking whiskey and bourbon like there was no tomorrow. Why don't you come over to my place. Beale's cooking swedish meatballs and we've got lingonberry jam (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lingonberry_jam) that my uncle sent from Goteburg (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothenburg) last week. That should take your mind off it."

The tired smiled remained. "Thanks Nicky. Maybe..."

"We're having a late dinner anyway...it being Friday and all. So show up around ten?"

"We'll see..."

Halstrom smiled. "So ten then?"

"No promises Nicky. But thanks..."

Of course, he hadn't actually made it to Halstrom's. When he'd gotten to Doolin's he'd had fish and chips, dip, a Guinness and watched some hockey. Then he'd grabbed the first bourbon drink. He hadn't moved until Sultan called him.

Which brought him back to his current 'arrest'. He had an alibi but the fact he was under suspicion bugged the living hell outta him. If there was one thing Aurelias Kazaar wasn't...it was a dirty cop. Surly, abrasive, insubordinate at times...okay almost all the time...hell yeah. Bent? Hell no. The questioning of his trustworthiness got under Kazaar's skin. Which was probably what that bimbo cop was trying to do. Piss him off. Get him outta the way so she could move up the ladder. Focus on her career.

Bitch.

He kept silent, letting his mind wander.

Halstrom's last words bugged him. "We're having a late dinner anyway...It being Friday and all."

Halstrom and Beale normally stayed in on Friday, choosing to go out on Saturday night instead. So why the change? He doubted they were 'bumping knees' so what the hell was going on?

"Anyone talked to Halstrom's widow yet?" He muttered out loud.

"What?" Savoy shot at him from the front.

Kazaar leaned forward in his seat. "Has anyone talked to Beale Halstrom yet?"

Savoy looked confused a second. "Don't know."

"Find out. Now!"

"Why? Thinking about confessing?"

"Shaddup you. I sure as hell ain't confessin' to something I gotta damned alibi for. Call Beale...better yet, head over there. I think she's in trouble."

"Wh-"

"Just fucking do it asshole!"

******************************

Estelle's cell phone went off 15 minutes later. "Russard it's Savoy."

"Did you drop Kazaar off in a interrogation room?"

Savoy's voice sounded...wrong. "No. Kazaar demanded we go see Beale Halstrom. Thought she was in danger or something."

The hell? "Why'd he think that?"

"I don't know Estelle. But he was right. Beale's dead."

[Estelle Russard]

It was 3.15 am by the time Russard got back to headquarters and stalked into the interrogation room on the second floor.

Kazaar was slumped in a chair, long legs stretched out at right angles under the table and a paper cup of stale coffee in his hands. Estelle didn't return his smile as he waved cuffed hands upon her entry, "You takin' these off me now?"

"Shut up, Aurelias." She took the seat opposite him and a Uniform brought her in a cup (ceramic) of steaming coffee and set it in front of her. It wasn't her personal mug, "Not only am I perfect, Im Irish" was printed in bright green along its width. She acknowledged the junior officer with a grateful smile.

"Im going to be asking the questions," she launched at Aurelias, "and you will stow the 'rebel with a cause' rubbish and respond with respect"

Kazaar dropped his hands, "Then I respectfully respond by asking, is that Killroy's mug?"

"You think this is funny?" Estelle leaned forward, barely surpressing her anger.

Kazaar leaned forward also, his longer body shrinking the space dramatically between them. His voice was cold, dangerous, "My partner, and his wife - who, by the way thought I was the new Jim Rockford and used to cook me meatloaf on Tuesdays - were brutally murdered tonight Russard, so no, I dont think this is in the least bit funny."

Russard was breathing heavy and Aurelias could tell she was struggling to find an appropriate response, one that did not shatter her proffessional composure and have her screaming at him.

"Good" was all she managed, her perfect teeth grinding the word until it was a choked apology for english. "Then maybe you'll tell me why you thought Beale Halstrom was in danger tonight and saw fit to raise the alarm to only one person, my partner?" Her brown eyes sparked like a spitfire, "I could have had a squad car there well before you arrived. It might have made a difference."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Simple, sweetie." Kazaar leaned back in his chair. He was dying for a smoke that was for damn sure. "I hadn't thought of it until then. Shock o'hearing Halstrom was killed got to me."

He thought about holding out on his earlier conversation with Halstrom. Just to stick it to this chick on a power trip. Probably wouldn't get him out on the streets trying to find out who did it though. Rock and hard place. Dammit it all.

Kazaar relayed the conversation he'd had with Halstrom, including how he thought it was pretty damn odd for him to have a late dinner. "The Halstroms stay in on Fridays." He explained. "They prefer to avoid the crowds. Hell, they don't even go to Canucks games. That's how much they frickin' hate 'em. I figured, whoever the killer is (and it ain't me, I gotta alibi), met 'em at their place, killed Beale, then took Halstrom to the park where they offed him.

"Now will ya take these damned cuffs off. And get me o'real cup of coffee."

[Estelle Russard]

"Sorry," she made a show of enjoying a deep long gulp from her own cup whilst his contained only dregs, "Cutbacks"

"See, this is what I know," Russard leaned back, the tension evaporating almost magically as she tapped a brown folder on the desk, "You are trouble. You've always been trouble and you always will be trouble. Heck, I'll be doing the Department an enormous favor if I toss you in one of those urine-stenched cells and throw away the key. No one will mind-apart from yourself- of that Im pretty damn sure."

Kazaar snorted and Estelle allowed a smile.

"Now, while I do appreciate you are feeling all kinds of frustrated and angry at what's happened, your feelings dont even begin to rate on the scale of "I dont give a damn to Kazaar who, now?" Why dont you tell me what you and Halstrom had been working on recently - give me some names of people who would like your partner, and his wife, so permanently out of the picture? And while the list, Im certain, is as long and painful as a week of Tony Little infomercials - you could perhaps give me some notion as to who hates you enough to see you sitting in that chair right there?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya damn right that list's pretty long." Kazaar's face twisted in annoyance. "This ain't fuckin' helping. My partner, my buddy, is laying down in th'morg with a bloody hole in his head. And who knows what the hell happened to his wife."

He leaned forward. "Ya want my help. Ya pull these damn cuffs off. Let me go find the son of a bitch who did this. I'll make sure he don't do it again."

Estelle's mouth turned into a pretty ugly expression. "It doesn't work like that Kazaar, you know that. If you withhold information, it means the killer (or killers) have more time to escape. And right now you're withholding that information." Her expression hardened. "If you don't get rid of that cowboy attitude, you won't be released until tomorrow. By then, Halstrom's killers could be gone and you'll be charged with withholding evidence. That means...bye, bye career.

"Remember what I said...I doubt the police union would back you up at all."

Dammit. Kazaar was stuck in a pretty large pickle. Wasn't that he didn't want whoever did this caught, in fact he yearned to put his large, leathery hands an' squeeze till the guy's eyes popped out. That's what Kazaar wanted to do. The fact the police union wasn't looking to help him didn't matter. He wasn't looking for their godawful help.

But what he did need to do...was play ball. Shit.

Kazaar let out a sigh. "Fine. Guy by th'name of Winnick's ya best bet. Busted him a couple months ago for murder. Last I knew he was headin' to Alberta. But that was two weeks ago. Bieska's the other recent druggie Nicky and I busted. Ya remember him. The 'Gastown (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gastown) shootings? He's the only other murderer I can think of in the last few weeks. He was so high when we found 'em...guy thought he was on Pluto."

A smirk. "Did take o'suspected rapist in. Anthony Sgriccia. Lives near downtown. Pretty mad 'bout being busted, even if he turned out t'be innocent o'the charges. Gun nut from what we could tell. Liked to hunt. Might not be a bad thing to check out." Kazaar thought o'bit. "I'd talk t'the lab see if those eggheads've found anything.

"One other thing...I wanna take o'look at Nicky's house. See what that damned mess looks like."

[Estelle Russard]

The information Kazaar gave was not news, but it did lend creedence to her formulating suspicions on one of the names he'd mentioned. If he had a feeling on one of them, then that was something to go on. Halstrom was found with narcotics on him, but the final tox-screens had not come back yet as to whether he had them in his system, but it wasn't looking as if he had.

She took another draw from the coffee mug, this one reflective of the more pensive mood she had now adopted, and kept her thoughts to herself.

Kazaar was clean. Well, as far as Halstrom was concerned he was. A little disappointing really. Estelle would have loved to bang him down a few notches.

Kazaar's allibi checked out and his gun was definitely not the weapon used on either Halstrom or his wife. If she listened to her gut, she already long knew this as truth. Kazaar was the breed of man that were all screwed up in the head, but some place in the dark, shrivelled shadows one called the heart, there was an unbendable code, whose foundation was loyalty. He was not the kind of man to kill his partner. A difficult man to understand, but not impossible.

Russard gave the slightest of looks to Killroy, who had been standing silently behind Aurelias the whole while, and he lent forward and undid the handcuffs. Estelle stood, "Lets go"

Kazaar remained seated.

Killroy brushed him as he passed, "To Halstroms, dipstick"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

'Can I 'least get m'guns back." Kazaar gave a crooked smile. "Pretty please...with sugar on top. And a damned peach."

Killroy looked at Russard then turned back to Kazaar. He set the Ed Browning 1911 (http://www.edbrown.com/images/handguns/kobracarry_cover3.jpg) down on the table, followed by the .38 Special. Kazaar smirked and stuffed them both into their holsters. "Ya wouldn't happen t'have my bike would ya?"

"Don't push your luck." Estelle answered succinctly and walked out of the interrogation room.

Smart mouthed bitch.

But Kazaar followed her anyway.

The Halstroms lived in a nice two-story white home on the 2400 block of Duthie Avenue in Burnaby (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burnaby). The house was painted white with a medium-sized, segmented window to the right of the door and a large, segmented window to the left. They also had several green shutters which were mainly for decoration. Kazaar had spent plenty of nights there enjoying Beale's Swedish meatballs, discussing her job at Ballard Power Systems (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ballard_Power_Systems) while Halstrom smoked on his pipe. Their conversations would then normally turn towards hockey while Halstrom usually beat his wife at chess. They'd offered to teach Kazaar but he'd waved them off, preferring to sit and smoke while they "did battle."

It was a nice home...completely ruined by what Kazaar saw when he, Russard and Killroy arrived. The front door had been broken through, blocked by the large cluster of trees Beale had insisted growing. It appeared the Halstroms were about to watch 'The Matrix' or 'That Thing You Do!' when whoever their killer was arrived.

Kazaar could see it now:

Nick Halstrom, asking his wife if they were interested in comedy or action, when the door was broken into. Since Halstrom normally didn't bring his gun home, he probably reached for the baseball bat he had set next to the dark, plush couch. He then raised it towards the intruder, only to be told to "Hold it!" Beale was probably told to "Come out from the kitchen or her husband got it."

Or there could've been two killers. One to grab Beale while the other held Halstrom at bay. That was also possible. Kazaar mused as he stared into the living room from the hallway.

He saw where Beale had been shot and fallen. That's probably why Halstrom had stopped fighting. But something caught his eye in the corner, behind the large TV he and Halstrom had watched plenty of games on. He walked around, kneeling down by an electrical cord island.

"Kazaar?" Estelle asked, not sure if he was actually looking at something or just trying to delay.

Kazaar turned around, a murderous look on his face. He was holding a pregnancy test. Beale Halstrom had been pregnant when she was shot.

He took a step towards the door. To hell with protocol. He was gonna find the killer. And send that son of a bitch to hell.

[Estelle Russard]

"Where do you think you're going?" Killroy moved to block Kazaar's exit, but Estelle waved him off.

"Let him go Dale, he's been as helpful as a donkey with two legs"

Any luck, some one would pop Kazaar and that'd be one less problem for Russard. If Aurelias wanted to richochet off every new emotion that slapped him in the face as this case developed, what did she care? So the cops' wife was preggers? Big deal. Kid never knew what happened. Getting all hellfire and brimstone about it wasn't making the facts any clearer.

"You and me are gonna go visit Mr. Winnick's people"

Winnick was to Russard's mind the likliest of the names Kazaar had offered to be mixed up in this. While the drugs found on Halstrom were trafficked by Bieska and that lowlife had killed before - it had been in a shoot-out of sorts, an act of desparation, not a planned crime. Winnick, on the other hand, was more the calculating type and this double homicide was decidedly that. A cleaning up of some loose ends. It was time to see just what was doing over at the Winnick place.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar stalked out of his dead partner's house, intent on wreaking havoc and hell wherever he went. His boots pounded down the short walk to the waiting unmarked car. He reached for the door handled and pulled. Nothing. The door was locked. Cursing, the police detective pulled again. Same thing. The door was locked.

Dammit. Kazaar went through his hands for his keys, then remembered he took his Harley to where Halstrom was found dead. And that bike was currently at police lockup because some narco bitch decided to confiscate it because he was a 'person of interest' for a couple hours. Halted everyone's investigation (especially his) while they 'checked out his alibi'. He growled and went back inside the house.

Russard and Killroy were discussing something about Winnick as he barged in, eyes flashing.

"Help you?" Estelle answered coolly.

"Yeh." Kazaar fired with both barrels. "I'm tired o'this shit. Lockin' me up while so ya could 'follow every lead'. Whatta load o'crap. Ya just didn't want me on the investigation, so ya played politics. What th'fuck kinda game is this."

"Kazaar." Killroy put in.

"Shaddup Killer, I ain't finished." His guttural voice was even lower. "This is my partner and his wife (both pretty fucking good friends o'mine) we're talking about. Not some fuckin' John Doe. And ya decided to confiscate my bike and drag my ass all th'way out here. What the hell didja think I was gonna do? Sit here on my ass while y'all went by th'book? Ya guys're frickin' nuts if ya thought I was gonna do that.

"Now gimme some keys so I can get outta here an' do my job."

"Kazaar..."

"Gimme some fuckin' keys...NOW!" Kazaar's voice actually shook the entire house. Probably woke a couple neighbors too.

Inwardly, Estelle signed. She understood where most of Kazaar's behavior was coming from. His partner was dead and he was pissed. It made sense to her, she'd probably be just as angry if Savoy was murdered too. Maybe she shouldn't have publicly humiliated him in front of the uniformed officers but he had busted into her investigation. Righteous anger or not, he shouldn't have done that. And she probably shouldn't have arrested him. Thanked him for his interest, sure, maybe even send him off on a lead but not arrest him. That only made Kazaar cross the line from abrasive (which everyone knew he was) to just being a plain asshole.

"Killroy. Take five will you. Go have that smoke you've been dying for."

Killroy gave a sheepish smile and took his Lucky Strikes out. He lit one, then exited the home. "Thanks Russard."

Russard? Aw shit. "You're Jake Russard's girl ain't ya?" Kazaar shook his head. "I knew ya looked familiar in some way. What ya pissed off 'cause I wasn't one o'the chumps who sent daddy into th'Legislative Assembly (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legislative_Assembly_of_British_Columbia)? Decided t'get ya revenge by lockin' ya up?" He snorted. "Daddy sure as hell wouldn't like that. Thought he campaigned on not bein' a real fuckin' politician." He pointed his finger at Estelle an' winked. "Guess ya had t'pick up the slack huh."

"Say another word..."

Kazaar srnirked. "Or what. Ya call Daddy up? Have him call the chief an' get me suspended? Ya ain't a cop. Ya a go-"

Estelle moved...fast. She pulled Kazaar's right arm behind him, stuck her own right arm in the crook of his elbow and pushed his hand towards his shoulder. Kazaar let out a grunt-scream. Pain shot through his entire body as Estelle applied the compression lock (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compression_lock). She hadn't spent 19 years studying Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brazilian_Jiu-Jitsu) for nothing.

"Now listen Aurelias." She whispered in his ear. "I've put up with your shit attitude for almost eight hours. I'm tired, worn out and most importantly still trying to do my job. I understand your abrasiveness but there's a fine line between that and just being an ass. And you crossed that line a long time ago. Who the hell do you think you are? Esa bloody Tikkanen (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Esa_Tikkanen)?"

"I...*rrk*...prefer Theo... (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theo_Fleury)" Kazaar gasped.

"Doesn't matter." Estelle almost spat. "Maybe I shouldn't have had you arrested, but that doesn't give you the right to attack either me or my family. I could care less whether you voted for my father or not, but what I do care is putting this bastard behind bars. But going all Charles Bronson won't solve it. And you know it.

"As for not having your bike. Boo-hoo. I guess if you want to make it back into the city you'll have to actually be of help. Do you think you can do that? Or are you going to navel gaze and suck on your thumb all night?

"So shall we at least try to work together before you take any more shots at my family?"

Kazaar bared his teeth and winced even more. But what she was saying made sense. "Fine."

She let go and he flexed his arm. "Damn sweetheart, ya got some hella moves. I Thai box (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muay_Thai) four times o'week and I've never seen anyone move like that." He smirked. "Nice work."

At least he was being civil now. Estelle gave a hard smile. "We're going to visit some of Winnick's friends. He may have had something to do with it."

"What makes ya say that?"

"The drugs found on Halstrom were cocaine and cheese heroin (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheese_heroin). We heard rumors a supplier in Texas was thinking about moving up here. Probably to see if he could cut into the market up here."

She started walking towards the door. "Most of Winnick's friends hang out near Commodore Ballroom (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commodore_Ballroom). You gonna come along or walk back to downtown?"

Kazaar glared and stalked off after her.

[Estelle Russard]

The trio sat across the street from the Commodore in a greasy spoon all-night diner.

It was early still and the city, while not deserted, was quiet and only just waking to life with a few cars and a large cumbersome street sweeper moving down them.

There would be no one at the Ballroom at this time of the morning, except perhaps the janitor, and Estelle - who nurtured a healthy appetite at the best of times - was loading up on pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs to fortify her for the day. Kazaar had coffee, black and hotter than hades. Killroy was eating some bran-yogurt abomination that Russard did her best to ignore.

"I seen Blue Rodeo here once" Estelle remarked conversationally.

"In the diner?"

Kazaar and Estelle gave Killroy a look. Seriously, how did this guy get his badge?

"At the Commodore, Kill" she clarified.

"Oh"

"They were pretty good"

Kazaar made a show of yawning loud and long and Estelle, much like she did with Killroy's breakfast of yuppie champions, did her best to ignore it.

"Im not much for ballad-type dudes" Killroy said licking his spoon.

"Or was it at the Orpheum?" Estelle continued, "I cant remember now. Anyway, none of Winnicks guys are gonna be there unless they're sleeping in the alley out back, but we can talk to the cleaner and the office staff once they're there, see who's been hanging around, see what they know"

Kazaar looked like he was going to burst with impatience, sitting idling was definitely rubbing against the grain.

"Why dont you fill us in on Winnick, Kazaar, seeming you're the specialized homicide dick around here"

Estelle made no effort to disguise the double entendre` of the slang term she used, "And pass the syrup will ya"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar slid the syrup across the table and glowered at the Ballroom. He'd actually seen Dropkick Murphys play there once, but that was 'cause he was working undercover. Wasn't the worst band in the world, but the bagpipes were a little too much for his taste. Of course the fact they threw a party and not a concert wasn't a bad thing.

Now Winnick...Winnick was. "Been runnin' 'round Vancouver causing all sorts o'havoc since he was 15." Kazaar took a bite of his cranberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese. "Mainly o'big fan of getting his junkie friends together t'go rabble rouse an' beat up teens who were late on payin' f'their pot. Liked t'push BC Bud (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BC_Bud) too. Spent o'few months in lockup f'it. Just ya regular scumbag who prob'ly didn't get loved by mommy 'nough. Or blames society, some bullshit like that."

He took a sip of coffee. "Wasn't until '01 he started branchin' out into harder crimes. Assault, robbery, hell he shot o'guy in th'neck 'cause he owed him 50 bucks. An' that guy lived. Got busted beating t'death 'nother scumbag who owed him a forra drug debt too. Now in Alberta t'face murder charges.

"'Course ya know all that already. It's in his file." Kazaar smirked and gave a sideways look towards Estelle. "Ya sure didn't ask me t'recap that to ya f'fun didja? Hell, he spent most o'his time gettin' busted by ya department."

"Until he turned to murder." Russard pointed out between mouthfuls of pancakes. "So tell me something that isn't in his file."

"Rumor was, 'course none o'us figure out if it were true or not, was Winnick got himself hooked up with o'boss. Became his enforcer o'some type. Never could figure out his name or where th'fuck he came from. But it's rumored th'guy's doing some work f'him.

"'Course why he'd go an' get himself nabbed f'murder kinda kills that theory. But Halmstrom was pretty sure Winnick was workin' f'someone. Hell, maybe that's why he got killed." Kazaar shook his head. "Don't make any sense though. Why th'fuck would ya draw attention to yaself by killing two guys who owed ya cash?"

"Could be he was either ordered to or was just sloppy."

"Yeh, Thought 'bout that. But Winnick ain't o'moron. Bastard yeh, but not o'moron. Ya don't let yaself get nabbed unless ya gotta damned good reason."

The table was silent for a bit, while everyone either chewed, drank or ate their idiotic yogurt-like substance. And Kazaar liked yogurt. Just not the crap Killroy was shoveling in his mouth.

"Was Halstrom working something on the side? Maybe a personal investigation?" Estelle finished her thought quickly before Kazaar could launch into a diatribe as to why Halstrom wasn't dirty.

That caused Kazaar to stop for a moment. "Ya know...he was pretty hung up on th'Winnick as enforcer' rumor. 'Course makes no sense why ya off Beale."

"Maybe whoever killed Halstrom was trying to send you a message." Killroy interjected between mouthfuls of grain.

That caused the entire table to stop. It was an angle no one had really thought about. Halstrom's killing could have been a warning to Kazaar. 'Don't mess with us' or something like that. Maybe they thought Kazaar was investigating with Halstrom into the 'hidden boss' idea. It was something pretty simple, but also not a bad idea.

"From th'mouth o'idjits." Kazaar muttered and looked out the window. "First crews look t'be showing up. Huh...boss got in early. There's Bill Blackwell." He got up from his seat. "Let's go have o'chat. Grab the car. Be waiting for him t'run."

The cop was out of the diner before Estelle and Killroy could stop him. No one may have known it but Kazaar had a plan. "Hey Blackwell! Ya gotta minute?"

Blackwell, a seedy looking thin man with long brown hair and a beard, took one look at Kazaar...and bolted. Kazaar smirked. "Round back! Move it!"

Then he took off after Blackwell. Stupid ones always run.