Troubled Glance: the Glance Series

Chapter One

T

om Jordan entered the office of his boss Chad Hopewell at the Ottawa Citizen newspaper. He had been a newspaper reporter for the past three decades, and as such periodically brought topics of interest to the Editor-in-Chief’s attention.

Seven months previously in September of 1996, Antonio Fuentes the crime boss of a gang known as The Cobras died while being a patient in the Toronto General Hospital. Antonio had been incarcerated at the Kingston Penitentiary for years, because of murders and other crimes committed by himself and other gang members who followed his orders, until cancer overtook his body.

Tom had read the long obituary concerning Antonio, in the Toronto Star, at the time of the man’s death. His interest piqued when he thought of the gang life Antonio had lived and he wondered just how many large gangs there were in Canada. The more research he did on the subject, the more fascinated he became.

It was the afternoon of April 7th, 1997 when Tom sat in a chair opposite Chad’s massive desk, with file folders in his hands. He was hopeful his hours of research would be appreciated as he explained to the man in charge, about a series of articles he would like to write concerning gang life in Canada.

Do you really believe a think piece on Canadian gangs would be of interest to our readers? Chad inquired.

I believe people are interested in this subject, even though they want nothing to do with criminals. I would write five or six articles for the Saturday editions which I know would sell more papers, Tom replied. The story content would bring knowledge and perspective about street gangs to the public. The research I have done so far is intriguing to say the least. There are so many movies still being made about mobsters, the mafia and street gangs, I think people need to be informed just how prevalent these gangs are in society today.

When did you first take interest in this subject Tom? Chad was curious to know.

I read a long obituary printed in the Toronto Star last September that caught my attention. Even though I’ve completed five major story lines since then, I kept going back to this gang thing. I’ll leave my research with you so you can get a better idea of what I’m after. Al Capone, plus many other well-known mobsters might be dead but gangs and gang bosses are still hiding on our streets.

I’ll get back to you tomorrow, Tom, once I’ve reviewed your work.

Leaving the glass enclosed office, Tom walked down the hall with a grin on his lips. This was the sort of story if done right could bring him another journalistic award. He could only hope Chad Hopewell would see the merits in writing such a piece. Already having won three Ontario Newspaper Awards during his career, gave him reason to think a fourth award might be forthcoming. An O.N.A. was a prestigious award, but if he were to be acknowledged also with a National Newspaper writing award for excellence, Tom knew it would be a dream come true.

Friday afternoon, Tom again sat across the desk from the Editor-in-Chief. He regarded is boss closely, looking for a sign in his body language that he was about to hand Tom a writing assignment which could prove to be one of the biggest in his career.

I think you may have good intuition about this gang topic, Tom, Chad commented. You indicated in your notes, Vancouver, Winnipeg, Montreal, Ottawa, Toronto, and Halifax are the main large cities with gang and criminal activities that interest you. I suggest you take a few months to pursue this topic in all six regions, leaving Ottawa till the end of your tour, when you can return to work while still investigating. I will sign off on a budget for all your traveling, food, lodging and other expenses. As always, keep your receipts. Anything else you need while out on the road, call me directly. I will advise Arnold Nesbitt our new Managing Editor the first instalment article should be ready for editing by June 30th, giving his department a week before it goes into print on July 5th. As you know, sometimes during the summer months people get busy and forget to purchase papers. This topic will hopefully encourage the public to want to learn more about Canadian gangs, with the Saturday copies flying off the store counters.

Sounds great, Chad. I appreciate the faith you’re placing in me, Tom said with a smile. I won’t let you down. By the time the articles are all written they might be the size of a novella.

You know the standard word count needed for a three-column piece, Chad reminded him. If you exceed it, the editing staff will shorten the article. I’m sure you want every word you submit used, so as always be thoughtful of our rules. Your last piece I feel lost some of its direction because of the edits. I’ll inform Arnold there will be about six installments, but we can lengthen or decrease that number by one, once you’re back here and hitting those keys.

I imagine you want to leave right away to get started, Chad reasoned.

Yes, I thought I’d start my search for information in Vancouver and work my way back east. Winnipeg, Halifax, then Montreal and Toronto, will be the route I’ll follow, finishing up in Ottawa.

I’ll have Deborah my secretary, arrange for a flight to Vancouver tomorrow, Chad stated. You can pick up your ticket at the airport. Keep in touch with me every few days by phone, Tom, to let me know how you’re progressing.

The men shook hands across the desk knowing it would be weeks before they saw each other again.

Be careful, and don’t take any chances. I cannot imagine gang members being happy to know someone is snooping around in their territories, were the last words spoken by Chad before the door closed.

Tom walked away from the meeting with a jubilant spirit. He had no way of knowing when his articles were published, how they would change lives and begin a domino effect, that would once again cause stress and mayhem in the lives of the Russell, Clark and Marshall families in Toronto. Some members of all three families had already come close to death when a decree had been sanctioned by Antonio Fuentes to annihilate Steven Clark. Ren McClure, Steven’s brother who was now deceased, had murdered Antonio’s brother Mario in a subway car in 1992. Antonio’s deranged mind did not want anyone resembling his brother’s killer to be allowed to live and breathe. Some of Antonio’s gang members did their best to eliminate Steven and other members of his family, but to no avail.

When Tom finally settled into a room of a downtown Vancouver hotel, he decided to check out his surroundings by taking a long walk. He made sure a small notebook was in his shirt pocket, with two pens clasped to the inside of it. These were the only things besides his wallet he would need whenever he was out of bed and dressed for the day. Tom knew he would also be out observing on the streets during the dark hours of the evening but hoped to be back at his hotel room by 10:00 p.m., depending on how each day unfolded, in order to organize his notes and work on the story.

He was soon to learn he could be put in harm’s way and needed to rely on human instinct for self-preservation. On his third day in Vancouver he unknowingly walked into a police stake-out. At 4:30 in the afternoon, he innocently entered a dry-cleaning shop in a small strip mall, not on one of the main streets, where he thought the clerk may know if there was any gang related activity in the area. When Tom excited the building and walked to the end of the block, two police officers standing in the alleyway grabbed him, pulling his body into the shadows of the alley from where they had been observing foot traffic, as well as the cars and trucks in the area.

May I ask what you were doing at the dry cleaners? Officer Wells wanted to know.

As the men were dressed in street clothes and not their official uniforms, Tom was frightened, not realizing he was being address by a police officer.

Who are you and what do you want? was all Tom could think to say.

I’m Officer Wells of the Vancouver police department, he said producing his credentials. Again, I want to know what you were doing at the dry cleaners?

I’m here from Ottawa, on a newspaper assignment, he informed the officer. I’m writing an interest piece on street gangs in Canada. I guess I’ve watched too much television because sometimes small businesses are depicted as places where clerks seem to know what’s happening on the streets.

Can I see some identification? Officer Wells asked.

Of course, Tom replied. What’s going on? he continued. Have I done something wrong?"

You went into the shop without any dry-cleaning and then exited empty handed, while writing something in a notebook. It’s difficult to see, but we have many police vehicles in the area, watching that particular shop for illegal activity. The man you just spoke to has been on our radar a long time, as he is believed to be the boss of a large group of street criminals. Three days ago, we received a tip concerning a drug deal happening on those premises today, within the next six hours. Because you now know these facts, its unfortunate but we must detain you until this operation has been completed, the officer stated.

Tom was flabbergasted he had walked in on a drug bust and apologized profusely about his bad timing.

What did the man in the dry-cleaners say to you? asked Officer Wells.

He was very polite, informing me he only worked part-time and really didn’t know anything about what went on out in the streets. Tom reported.

I’ve a question for you Officer Wells. Do you think I’d be given any pertinent gang information by going to a police station in this city?

It’s possible some information might be forthcoming, as long as any cases we are presently working on are not disclosed, Officer Wells stated. I’ll take you to our surveillance vehicle where officers will make you as comfortable as possible. Please walk normally in case we are being observed.

Leaving the alley, Officer Wells took Tom to the backyard of the mall, where a dilapidated motorhome stood at the edge of the property under a massive oak tree. Walking towards it, Tom was not sure if it was the vehicle on wheels the police were using. It looked to him like it should soon be taken to an automotive recycle yard. There were major dents and many colours of paint peeling off everywhere. He wondered if someone had taken a few cans of dull coloured paint and thrown the liquid on the metal frame. No one in their right mind would choose to drive such a thing down the road.

We parked our motorhome here shortly after we received the tip, just in case our informant’s timeline was off, Officer Wells mentioned to Tom. Also, the dry-cleaning man parks his car just over there, the officer added. After a few days, he probably hasn’t pay attention to a motorhome parked in this area.

Entering the vehicle, Tom thought it looked more like a fancy house on wheels. The metamorphosis from the outside to the inside he felt was quite astonishing. There was a small kitchen, miniature bathroom, couches, and chairs, with lots of room for the officers who were monitoring state-of-the-art cameras and voice operation systems. The hours dragged on and on for Tom until at last something was happening. Two of the three officers quickly exited the mode of transportation. Gun shots were fired and shouting could be heard by Tom and his companion officer. Noticing the officer was concentrating on all the technological components in from of him, Tom decided to take-a-peek out the back door. Being a reporter, he hoped to see something that could add to his story content. Opening the heavy steel portal about two feet, would prove to be a bad mistake. The light was seen in the evening’s darkness by one of the criminals being fired on by the police. Before Tom realized what danger he was in, a lucky bullet entered the motorhome and slammed into the ceiling. The officer was immediately at his side, reprimanding him for his stupidity while abruptly closing the door. Tom would later relate in one of his articles how scared he was in that moment, not knowing if he would still be safe at the end of the takedown of major criminals.

Arriving back in his hotel room at 2:00 a.m. after five criminals were arrested; two of which were sent by ambulance to the hospital, and all the narcotics and money involved in the drug deal collected; Tom still felt small quivers of adrenaline rushing through his veins because of the situation he had placed himself in without thinking.

He was grateful he had survived the whole incident. Tom knew the events of the last few hours would set the tone for his articles. The fact that some really bad criminals can be viewed as just normal human beings like himself, was something he had not anticipated. He had imagined he could pick out a bad guy in an instant. The man at the dry cleaners was just average. He was short, balding and a bit heavy around the middle. Not the sinister looking person with evil eyes, Joe public would run a mile to get away from.

Tom knew he would have to be a lot more diligent about his safety in the future. He reflected on how calm the dry cleaner seemed when asked if this was a quiet neighbourhood for people to live in, or if the man knew of any criminal activity.

He made the decision, when he went into different areas of the five remaining cities he would be visiting, to only observe without doing personal interviews. Interviewing the wrong person could get him killed. He also intended to seek out the police forces in all the cities he would be investigating, to inquire about gang activity. All they could say would be no comment, a phrase he had been told many times during his career when interviewing people on many different topics.

During his remaining days in Vancouver, Tom visited five police stations where he was provided information concerning the Hells Angels and the Sunset Boys, two major gangs in the area. He had been informed at one of the stations that the Vancouver area in British Columbia had between 130 and 160 active gangs, a fact Tom found difficult to comprehend.

Staying for five days in the city of Winnipeg, Tom learned about various types of gangs in that city also. Not only was the city policed by the Winnipeg Police force, but there was also a strong presence of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, often referred to as the R.C.M.P.

Winnipeg could not be compared to Vancouver, a huge city where Port Metro on the Pacific Ocean was a main threat to society, because of the drug smuggling taking place, giving the police a never-ending nightmare of a job, but it was still a city of interest.

More was added to Tom’s story content in Halifax which boarded on the Atlantic Ocean but did not have the same degree of drug problem as the Pacific Ocean port on the other side of the country. He decided to include Montreal and Ottawa in the same article, as the two cities only had a couple of hundred miles between them. He had already done a fair bit of research in his home city before heading to Vancouver. Once back on his home turf, Tom thought it would be easy to finish his fact gathering. Montreal, being a much larger city than Ottawa, with more criminal activity, would provide interesting reading. Tom was anxious to arrive in Toronto where he could focus on Antonio Fuentes, the deceased gang boss. He was not sure at this point how many individual articles would need be written, in order to cover Antonio’s story, as it all depended on what he learned about the gang boss, hopefully discovering what had driven him to be such a violent criminal while pursuing a life of crime. He planned to also approach the Toronto police department to get information if they were willing to talk to him.

Chapter Two

A

fter registering for a room at the Toronto Royal York Hotel and unpacking one last time while on this assignment, Tom set off on foot to familiarize himself again with the core of the city. He had been to Toronto many times and only needed to refresh his memory. He planned to locate some bars where he might be able to overhear talk of criminal activity, while appearing nonchalant to anyone who might be observing him. Antonio Fuentes had grown up somewhere in the east end of Toronto, but the exact location had not been disclosed in his obituary article. Tom was hopeful to learn something about the life of the gang boss who had died at the age of fifty-eight the previous September.

This was the part of Tom’s job as a reporter he enjoyed the most, as he thrived on gathering information. The writing part had always come naturally to him, spinning a tale of facts the public would appreciate reading, invariably after many hours of interviews. The information he had already accumulated concerning gangs could take up volumes of writing, if he was so inclined, but for now he had to dissect his work for it to fit neatly into a few columns of each Ottawa Citizen Saturday edition.

Venturing towards the East York part of Toronto, Tom entered two different bars because there were numerous motorcycles parked out at the curb of each establishment. He was curious to see who might be inside. He had learned a vital lesson during his time in Vancouver, not to place himself in harms way, so his plan was to keep to himself and observe the other patrons. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, he knew he would fit in well with the other drinking customers who would be enjoying a relaxing time with their buddies.

In the second bar he entered, there was a small dance floor, where a long-haired man in a black leather jacket, waltzed with a pretty blonde-haired woman dressed in similar attire, to Willie Nelson’s song, ‘You Are Always On My Mind.’ The atmosphere was pleasant with people at tables laughing and having a good time. He had hoped to hear something interesting while quietly sitting at the bar but unfortunately after a couple of hours, he walked away from the area none the wiser.

He hailed a cab which took him back to Yonge Street as he had ventured nearly three miles on foot and saw no point in retracing his steps. Leaving the cab, he walked a few blocks and entered another bar that looked promising when he noticed more motorcycles parked along the street. Sitting at a table by himself, he ordered a beer and began taking notes. It did not take him long to notice the drinkers at the next table checking him out. Although it made him a bit nervous, he could only hope they were wondering who he was, as he had never been in this bar before. A big man from the group finally called over to him, asking, are you new to the neighbourhood, Mate?

I live in Ottawa, but I’m here in Toronto on an assignment, was all Tom felt he should disclose.

What kind of assignment friend? the big man inquired.

I’d rather not say, Tom stated.

Well, it must be something official, the man continued. You’ve been writing notes since you sat down.

Tom was not sure what to say, as he certainly did not wish to get into any kind of trouble or altercation with this burly lad.

If you must know I’m a newspaper reporter, doing a piece for The Ottawa Citizen on a man who used to live in Toronto.

He must have been a colourful character if you’ve come to a bar in order to discover stuff about some stranger. Maybe we could help, the man said, bringing the rest of the men and the one woman at his table into the conversation.

I doubt you would have even heard of the man I’m here to learn about, Tom stated.

Well don’t keep us in suspense, the large man said, looking straight at Tom, expecting him to fess up and tell him what he wanted to know.

I guess it can’t hurt to say I am doing a piece about gang life, and especially the life of a man called Antonio Fuentes. Apparently, he was the boss of a Toronto gang called The Cobras.

If the burly man had taken a sledgehammer to Tom’s head, he could not have been more surprised when he heard the man declare, Antonio Fuentes you say. Did you hear that Liz? This man is here to learn about Antonio.

Tom became a little flustered because he was not sure why the man and his friends were suddenly laughing.

I have one question for you sir, the large man inquired. What made you decide to enter this bar in the middle of the afternoon?

I saw all the motorcycles outside and thought I’d take a chance there might be a few criminals inside who I could observe, Tom answered.

Not all bikers are criminals, Tom was told by the same man. In fact, most people in this country who own a hog drive it for the pure joy of the freedom it gives a person on the road, however if you had come in here a year ago, I can assure you we were all gang members. However, all that changed when Antonio died.

Do you mean to tell me you were acquainted with Mr. Fuentes? Tom asked, hardly believing his luck.

Antonio was the leader of our gang The Cobras even after he was put in prison. When he died, we disbanded the gang and filtered back into an ordinary lifestyle. We still enjoy riding our hogs, but our gang days are far behind us. This is my wife Liz, who grew up with Antonio and all his siblings. She could probably tell you more of what you need to know. My name is Ken Abbott by the way.

Tom sat and stared at the man who had just handed him on a platter what could have taken him weeks to find out, if in fact he had been able to discover anything more than what had been written in the newspapers.

Come and sit with us, Mate, instead of talking loudly over these tables, Ken suggested.

As it turned out, Tom became friendly with Ken, Liz and one other person who had been in the bar on that sunny afternoon. Over a period of a week, he was taken to the residence where Antonio had grown up, and got to meet two of Antonio’s siblings, Marcus and Josephine. He was also given pictures of Antonio at a young age, depicting a very handsome man.

I don’t have any pictures of him as he aged, Liz confessed. Being a gang boss, he always shied away from cameras, wishing to be invisible to the authorities and the public.

This one picture is definitely going in my article about him, Tom told her, as he gazed at the large black and white photo taken of Antonio in his early thirties.

Tom was thrilled when his new friends took him to the old warehouse Antonio had purchased and renovated decades before. Upon Antonio’s death the gang’s headquarters was sold to the City of Toronto to be used as a safe shelter for homeless people. The layout of the old building suited the needs of the new residents perfectly because of the way Antonio had arranged the rooms for his male and female gang members. At the time of the sale, the gang’s members decided what should be done with the funds received for the property. Half of the money was given to Antonio’s sister-in-law Rachel and her three children, with the rest being divided amongst the retired gang members. When Antonio’s brother Mario was murdered in 1992, his wife Rachel had been left with very little. The Fuentes family had helped her and her children, but the money she received from the sale gave her a lot more financial stability.

Ken and Liz related many stories to Tom, for him to print or not, whatever he chose to do. They were pleased to let Tom know although Antonio had lived a gang member’s life, in many ways he had been good to those people around him.

He was faithful to his family and friends, making sure they never went without the basics in life, Liz stated. When Antonio’s brother Mario was brutally killed, he felt justified in killing Ren McClure, the man responsible for the heinous act against his brother.

Besides living the life of a gang boss, Tom was very interested in Antonio’s personal life. He wanted to know if Antonio had ever married, or had any children who had carried on his unusual lifestyle.

Liz mentioned a young woman Antonio had loved in his early years, and talked about how devasted he was when the girl moved away with her parents. She believed it was the same year Antonio started up The Cobras.

I think he was 25, Liz told Tom. The girl and I grew up together in the same neighbourhood as the Fuentes family. Liz never mentioned the name of the person Antonio had loved. I joined the gang myself shortly thereafter, she remarked. I always had a rebellious streak in me and was glad to be out on my own, doing some pretty crazy stuff.

As Ken had grown up in Newfoundland, he was not able to contribute any first-hand information regarding Antonio’s younger years. Liz had told him many stories about the Fuentes family and her strong ties as a good friend to Antonio, but he was only familiar with his boss on a personal basis, since joining The Cobras in 1974.

Ken and Liz both stated Antonio had dated a little during his many years as a gang boss, but certainly never married, nor did they think he had fathered any children.

Tom knew he would soon be heading back to Ottawa and was sorry he had to leave this couple, who had befriended him and were instrumental in providing a true and knowledgeable perspective, regarding the life of a man they had thought of as a dear friend. He was truly grateful for all the information he had received, and did not know how to thank these people for all their kindness. Knowing both Ken and Liz had lived a life of crime for decades, boggled his mind, because they seemed like such nice down to earth people. He never asked about what crimes they had committed, but hoped murder had never been one of them. Even if he had asked, he was pretty sure they would not have told him the truth.

Just make sure you write a good article about Antonio, was all Ken asked of their new acquaintance. You have our address, so please send us a copy of the what is printed in the paper, Ken requested.

Before leaving Toronto, Tom took a taxi to the Police Station on Dundas Street West in the heart of the city. It was a habit he began in Vancouver, speaking with law enforcement officers, in case they could supply important information regarding the area they patrolled.

After Tom explained to the officer at the front desk what he was hoping to learn, he was ushered into the office of the detective who was on duty. Detective Stanley Vega seemed more than happy to talk to a reporter, which surprised Tom, as many officers he had spoken to on this trip had been cautious about what they revealed. At the start of the conversation, Tom had no way of knowing he was in the presence of a detective who had a lot of first-hand knowledge regarding Antonio Fuentes.

Detective Vega explained to Tom, he and a Detective Hugh Morris had worked together on a couple of cases involving Antonio. Seated and listening, Tom prepared himself to do a lot of writing on the pad he had placed in his lap.

As the case against Antonio was closed upon the man’s death, Detective Vega felt there would be no harm in disclosing facts that had been printed in the paper, or adding points of interest the public had not been made aware of at the time. He told Tom about the murder Antonio committed in prison to avenge the death of his brother Mario. Ren McClure had been serving time in the same prison as Antonio, so the gang boss was able to perform the deadly deed himself. Detective Vega informed Tom about the vendetta Antonio apparently instructed his gang to carry out regarding Ren McClure’s family. He mentioned when Antonio became aware Ren McClure had a twin brother, the incarcerated Antonio asked his gang to annihilate the twin also. For whatever reason, Antonio had gotten it into his head that he did not want anyone who resembled his brother’s killer to be allowed to live