A Stab at Life

Richard King

Description

A series of murders in Montreal park near the Gursky Memorial Hospital have Nurse Annie Linton and Detective Gilles Bellechasse hopping. Suspects include a vigilante group fighting drug dealers, a jealous husband, competing drug dealers, and a mysterious woman of whom nude drawings turn up in a murder victim’s bedroom. Annie Linton, a nurse turned sleuth, reveals excellent diagnostic skills critical in solving the crime.
Former bookseller Richard King has created two memorable characters in A Stab at Life. No other mystery writer has made a nurse (a woman) the lead character and situated the action in a hospital milieu. King’s mysteries are reminiscent of the originators of the mystery genre, writers such as Agatha Christie and Rex Stout and modern writers such as Robert Goldsborough and Louise Penny. A Stab at Life will delight murder mystery fans and have them waiting impatiently for the next in the series.
“…he has talent, wit and Montreal.” Margaret Cannon, Globe and Mail
“A Stab at Life is a top-notch Montreal crime tale. When it comes to masterful storytelling, Richard is King.” Andreas Kessaris, bookseller and author of The Butcher of Park Ex & Other Semi-Truthfull Tales

Sujets

• Women Sleuths
• Detective
• Mystery
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baraka Books
• Date de parution: 17 mars 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781771862172
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

RICHARD KING
A STAB AT LIFE
Baraka Books Montréal

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. © Richard King ISBN 978-1-77186-206-6 pbk; 978-1-77186-217-2 epub; 978-1-77186-218-9 pdf Cover by Richard Carreau Book Design by Folio infographie Editing by Elise Moser and Robin Philpot Proofreading by Barbara Rudnicka Legal Deposit, 2nd quarter 2020 >Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec Library and Archives Canada Published by Baraka Books of Montreal [e-mail] Printed and bound in Quebec Trade Distribution & Returns Canada – UTP Distribution: UTPdistribution.com United States and World Independent Publishers Group: UIPGbook.com We acknowledge the support from the Société de développement des entreprises culturelles (SODEC) and the Government of Quebec tax credit for book publishing administered by SODEC.



Dedicated to the memory of Margaret Noseworthy, 1942 – 1981.


CHAPTER ONE
“Put the gun down, dude.”
Constable Gilles Bellechasse looked forward to an easy shift on that warm evening in May. Spring weather did a lot to inhibit the kind of mischief that would require police attention. Gilles was however to look back on that evening as the catalyst that would lead to his transformation from idealistic cop to more seasoned detective. He was partnered with Nicole Bélanger, and their job was to patrol a sprawling neighbourhood in Montreal’s west end that was one of the most diverse in Canada both culturally and linguistically. Of course, English- and French-speaking Quebecers were an important part of the mix as well.
The patrol area, Côte-des-Neiges, included the Université de Montréal, and the students living in the quartier represented every French-speaking country in the world. The spiritual mix was diverse too, but there was little religious discord. Muslim and Jew, Protestant and Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist and the rest, all got along and lived in peaceful co-existence.
Gilles and Nicole had very similar attitudes to policing. Like Nicole, he was a cop who was a social worker at heart, and would rather resolve disputes than make an arrest. Plus Gilles didn’t make snide remarks about women on the police force or tell sexist jokes. This meant that he and Nicole could focus on doing their jobs for the eight hours they spent together.
If Gilles had a shortcoming, it was his tendency to put the job ahead of what Nicole thought of as his personal needs. Gilles insisted they take their supper break between 5:30 and 6:00 p.m., reasoning they were likely to be needed from six o’clock on. Domestic disturbances often started at the dinner table. Drivers who stayed too long at one of the many bars and pubs that dotted their area could have an accident driving home.
Both Gilles and Nicole brought food from home, so after buying a couple of coffees at the Starbucks on Côte-des-Neiges, they headed for their favourite spot to take a break. Kennedy Park was one of the larger parks in the area, taking up the equivalent of four city blocks. There was a parking spot by a copse of trees and shrubs they liked and where they could enjoy a quiet thirty minutes before the activity of the night began.
They parked and Gilles reached for his sandwich and the books and manuals for the exam he would have to pass in order to be promoted to the Major Crimes Division. Nicole admired Gilles’s ambition but she preferred to read a novel during her breaks. She fished around in her bag for her book and realized that she had forgotten it at home. There was no hope of getting Gilles to take his nose out of his books, so she sighed and gazed out the window at the activity in the park. Looking through the trees, she could easily see what was going on from the squad car though the car was hidden from the view of those in the park.
“Pas de livre ce soir, Nicole?” Gilles mumbled, to which she grunted a no.
Nicole spotted a couple of guys on one of the benches behind the trees. One was Asian and the other white. They looked to be in their early twenties and were sitting man-spread style, making it impossible for anyone else to sit there. They were dressed in high-tops, basketball shorts and muscle tees, and they had a couple of large bags from the nearby McDonald’s. Each guy held a burger in one hand, dipping into one of the bags with the other to pull out fries. From time to time some other young person would stop by and have a short conversation with the guys, shaking hands in the choreographed style of their generation, then walking around the bench and taking something out of another McDonald’s bag as they left.
“Gilles,” Nicole said, nudging her partner, “Regarde.”
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?”
“Those guys are dealing. Probably pot.” With a jut of her chin, Nicole indicated the two men on the bench.
Gilles tossed his books into the back seat to focus on the two guys. Another customer approached, had a brief conversation, did the handshake which served as a cover for the passing of money, walked around the bench, took something out of the McDonald’s bag, and walked off.
“Tabernac,” Gilles exclaimed, “right under our noses. That’s insulting – and illegal.” Gilles paused for a moment and added with a smile, “It wouldn’t be happening if our genius government hadn’t raised the age for buying the stuff legally.”
“They can’t see us,” Nicole pointed out.
“Well, we can see them. Let’s go.”
They radioed in to say they were about to investigate a couple of drug dealers and that arrests were likely to follow. Gilles and Nicole got out of the car and walked into the park.
They didn’t barge through the bushes, which would have alerted the dealers, but walked around the copse that hid their car and approached the two guys from behind. Gilles circled left and Nicole right so that they appeared in front of the suspects, blocking any possibility of their running away.
“What are you guys up to?” Gilles asked conversationally.
“Just enjoying a nice evening in the park, Officer,” the tall well-muscled Asian guy said. He looked like he was relaxing after a basketball game. Or would have if he had had a basketball.
“What’s in the bag?” Nicole asked. Her tone of voice was a little more aggressive than Gilles’s.
The less athletic-looking white guy held the bag out to Nicole and said, “Fries. Want some?”
“Don’t be a smartass. What’s in the other bag?”
The skinny white guy ran his fingers through his long dark hair and stared at Gilles and Nicole but didn’t say anything for a couple of beats. “What’s it to you?” he sneered. “We’re having a burger in the park. Got a problem with that?”
Gilles put his foot on the bench next to the Asian guy and said, “Yeah, I do. Now let’s see what’s in the other bag.”
The Asian guy tried to get up but was blocked by Gilles. The white guy was able to slip past Nicole and said in a loud voice, “Leave us the fuck alone. This is harassment.”
A second or two later, half a dozen other young guys formed a semicircle around them.
Gilles asked for backup on the radio attached to his vest, but he didn’t move away. “I’m not asking again,” he said calmly and reached for the bag. The Asian guy shifted to his left, using his hip to push the bag just out of Gilles’s reach.
The white guy tried to walk past Nicole but she put her hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the bench. As she did this, one of the guys standing to Gilles’s right pulled a gun. Nicole saw it before Gilles did. “Pistolet!” she shouted and pulled her gun.
Gilles turned toward the guy with the gun, backed up a step or two and pulled his Glock out of its holster. He stood at the apex of a triangle with the Asian guy and the kid with the gun the two points on its base. He was facing the seated Asian but by turning his head slightly to the left he had the kid with the gun in full view. The kid was standing with his legs apart with the gun at shoulder height pointed at Gilles’s chest.
“Put it down!” Gilles commanded, “And get on the ground.” Without taking his eyes off the kid, he continued, “The rest of you, down on the ground. Don’t be idiots.”
Seven of the eight people slowly began to obey Gilles’s order. The kid with the gun appeared too terrified by his own stupid bravado to move.
“Do as he says. Put the gun down, dude. You’re making things worse,” the Asian guy said. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole!”
The kid heeded his friend’s advice and slowly started to lower the gun, but as he did it went off. The bullet caught Gilles at the waist, the only unprotected area of his upper body where his bulletproof vest exposed a couple of inches of midsection when he had his arms raised to point his gun.
Gilles collapsed to the ground.
Nicole shouted, “Gilles!” and dropped to one knee to attend to her partner. The kids took off running, leaving the bag of drugs behind.
Gilles was bleeding out and Nicole knew she didn’t have time to retrieve the car’s first aid kit. She covered Gilles’s wound with her right hand and with her left pressed the “talk” button on her radio. “Officer shot. Send an ambulance,” she shouted, and gave her location.
Seconds later, the park was flooded with cops. A moment or two after that an Urgences-santé ambulance appeared on the scene. It must have been very close by.
Most of the cops spread out, looking for the suspects. Nicole was aware of the activity, but her attention was on Gilles.
Nicole had managed to slow the flow of blood. One of the cops brought a first aid kit and she did her best to further stanch the bleeding. The Urgences-santé emergency medical technician tore Gilles’s shirt away and ap