Page 47 of A Life Betrayed

After the deputy commissioner left, Frances remained in the conference room until she’d managed to get a handle on her frustration. The last thing she needed was for the rest of the office to catch wind of her not-so-subtle rap on the knuckles.Seeing how dedicated they are to the investigation,she thought dryly.

When she stepped out into the hallway, she found Gagnon waiting by the elevator. “What did the deputy commissioner want?” he asked as she approached.

Frances suppressed a derisive snort. The sergeant had been gunning for her failure since she’d first arrived at the Montreal office. “Results. They’re looking to repurpose the funding if we don’t make progress soon,” she said, pressing the call button on the wall as the elevator whirred to life. “The suits at HQ have no idea what we’re up against, how things are out here.”

“Hate to say I told you so,” Gagnon said. “Ottawa’s only a few hours away, but it might as well be another country. Things work differently in Quebec.”

“So I keep hearing,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. The elevator doors opened, and they both stepped inside.

The sergeant waited until the doors had closed before turning to her. “While you were out earlier, surveillance called. Said they’ve been asked to pull back on Beauvais and can no longer approve the use of cameras. I think it might have something to do with—”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Frances cut in, well aware of what he thought.

First the funding and now the surveillance. How am I supposed to get results with no resources?It was as though HQhad lost faith in her ability to turn the investigation around after the bungled arrest and was preemptively retreating.

Seething, Frances returned Gagnon’s self-assured gaze. “You know, I was going through some of the old boxes in the filing room and discovered the strangest thing.” She studied his face for clues, but Gagnon simply stared back at her, undeterred. “Documents and photos missing. It looks like Beauvais’s former subordinate, Rayan Nadeau, has been wiped from the record entirely. Seems odd, doesn’t it?”

Gagnon shrugged. “Those boxes get passed around a lot of different departments. We’re working on a better system to ensure everything is accounted for when they come back.”

Frances hit the emergency-stop switch on the wall, and the elevator lurched to a halt. “If we’re being candid, Sergeant, it looks like an inside job. Like the mob had their reasons for wanting that information erased. I wonder what else may have slipped through the cracks in your system.”

Gagnon gave her a steely glare. “What exactly are you implying, Inspector?”

Frances stepped forward. “I thought that was pretty clear.”

“Are you accusing me and my department of disposing of federal evidence for the mafia? Just wanting to be sure you knew exactly how dangerous your insinuations are.”

“Well, you would know, right, if someone was tampering with evidence?”

“I would know,” Gagnon retorted, defiant.

“My mistake. I thought that was just another thing you did differently here.”

Gagnon leaned over to release the switch, and the elevator once again began to whir. “I’d be careful if I were you,” he warned quietly.

Frances gave a short laugh. “You sounded like Beauvais there for a second. So I’ll tell you what I told him: you don’t scare me.”

The doors opened with a ping, and she strode out of the elevator and into the office.

Mathias had known the call was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier when it did. The boss wanted to see him. No longer at his home—a privilege that had clearly lapsed—instead, he would meet Giovanni at Vol de Nuit, a club on the outskirts of Hochelaga. While the fall was to be expected, it was no less jarring, and Mathias tried not to draw parallels to the time Giovanni had broken the news of his impending transfer to Hamilton.

The club was unaffiliated, which made meeting here safer than one of the family’s own establishments. There was no telling what the Feds had eyes on at this point. Mathias walked in and slid the bouncer a fifty to gain access to the darkened passage behind the stage. Henri stood outside the door to a small room in the hallway and gave Mathias a short nod as he approached. He opened the door, and Mathias stepped into the room to find Giovanni seated at a table with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

Mathias pulled out a chair and sat down across from him, and the boss poured a generous amount into both glasses. “Drink,” he instructed.

Mathias took a swig, and Giovanni did the same then placed his glass down on the table with a dull clink.

“Lose the shirt,” the boss said.

Mathias balked. “Are you fucking serious?”

Giovanni fixed him with a hard stare.

Exhaling loudly through his nose, Mathias stood and shrugged off his jacket. He undid the buttons of his shirt and held it open to expose his bare chest. “Satisfied?” he snarled.

The boss nodded and reached into his pocket for his smokes. “It’s simply a precaution. You’ve got a lot of heat on you. Naturally, my first thought was whether you’d made some sort of arrangement.”

Mathias finished rebuttoning his shirt and tucked it back into the waistband of his slacks. “If you think I’d come here with a wire,” he said in a low voice, pulling on his jacket and once again taking a seat, “then quit wasting my time, and get Henri in here to finish me off.”

---