Samurai Code by Don Easton Page B

or two later, Goldie was arrested at a Burmese checkpoint and his first shipment of heroin was seized. Lee stepped in as a sympathetic friend with high-level contacts. Soon, Goldie and his shipment were both on their way again.
    Goldie was readily willing to pay a commission to guarantee the safe passage of future shipments. He never realized that the same people who sold the heroin also sold the information to The Shaman. It was The Shaman who paid the majority of the real salary earned by many of the police, military, and immigration officials in Southeast Asia.
    In effect, The Shaman was often able to control which shipments would pass and which ones wouldn’t. In time, with the continued safe arrival of his goods in Vancouver, Goldie profited more than ever and his shipments increased in proportion, as did the commissions he paid out.
    Now Goldie was no longer a micromanager. He owned a couple of antique stores, as well as a nightclub. Both types of businesses served to launder his money and to insulate him from the annoying tentacles of law enforcement. He had reached the point where he could sit back and collect commissions himself from the executive members of other crime families who also frequented his nightclub, bolstering his profit margin even higher.
    “As you know by the increasingly large shipments and commissions, he is doing well,” replied Lee.
    “From what I have read,” replied The Shaman, “in British Columbia that should be rather easy and relatively stress-free. Low risk and high gain.”
    “There is some risk. Last year the national police, the RCMP as it is known, made several dozen arrests in regard to bikers. Many were charged with selling cocaine. The police in Canada are not as easily persuaded to turn a blind eye. Bribery is relatively rare.”
    “Still, is it not true that judicial sentencing practices in British Columbia make it irrelevant? I am familiar with the arrests you mention. It will be interesting to see how long those arrested will actually spend in jail. From what I’ve read so far, it shouldn’t be long. What does interest me is that the arrests were the result of a police informer who was a member of the gang. I have heard a rumour that the courts may not accept the evidence of the police informer because he broke the law while working for the police. An abuse of process it is called.”
    Lee thought about it briefly and a smile crossed his face. “If the court rules favourably, it would certainly make it easy to identify any informers in our midst. They would be unable to behave or perform their duties as directed.”
    “Exactly. It is something we will follow. I wish the bikers luck.”
    “Even if they are our competition?” asked Lee seriously.
    “We do not sell cocaine,” replied The Shaman, with a shrug.
    Lee nodded. No, not yet. When we are stronger and the time is right, then —
    “So, back to Mister Goldie,” continued The Shaman. “How is his progress outside of British Columbia?”
    “Through his contacts, he is opening up more distribution channels all the time. Much of Western Canada and recently Seattle are beginning to add to our investment strategy.”
    “What about the eastern seaboard?” asked The Shaman. “That is where the population is based. I expected our man in Palermo to have had the contacts in New York, but the Italian mafia there has lost all honour. Respected crime bosses are arrested almost daily and continue to cheerfully sing to the police in exchange for leniency. So much for omertà . I would like to discover a new path.”
    “I understand,” replied Lee. “I have approached Mister Goldie on this matter, but he indicates it is a slow process. Competitive organizations in Ontario and Quebec have been receiving their shipments from Afghanistan. I thought the lack of stability in Afghanistan would have crippled that front, but apparently not.”
    “The opposite, I should think,” said The Shaman. “Heroin will be sold more