Art and Murder

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Art and Murder Page 11

by Don Easton


  “No, but please, quickly, what is it you want? As a safety precaution, I need to hang up.”

  “This will only take a second. I might find it useful to have a passport under a different name for my own use. How about we make a gentlemen’s agreement? I will leave everything except the painting and later you will provide me with my own passport.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure what to say. I really should hang —”

  “You would not need to contact me again,” Jack interrupted. “I could make arrangements with your brother to deliver it to me. Naturally, I have some concerns that when he and his two buddies are released they may act like idiots and continue their quest to kill me. Arrangements will have to be made to ensure that doesn’t happen, and any future interactions, such as the one where I provide your brother with a passport photo, can be done through a mail drop.”

  “No, uh, please wait,” Roche replied as the Ringmaster whispered instructions.

  “You do not wish to do that?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, but …”

  “But what?”

  “We can discuss the passport with you at another time, but more than that, we may be interested in your consulting services.”

  “My consulting services?” It’s was Jack’s turn to sound surprised. “If I thought you were genuine, I would consider it, but under the circumstances, what with trying to kill me, you must understand why I am skeptical about your sincerity.”

  “We are sincere,” Roche said. “But please, I need to hang up and use one of the other phones you found.”

  “One of the others?”

  “Yes. Use the number five and I will call you back in one hour.”

  “An hour? Why so long?”

  “To ensure security for where I am,” Roche replied hastily.

  “Glad to hear you are cautious. So am I.”

  “Also, if you let me speak to my brother when I call back, I will instruct him to consider you a friend.”

  “A friend! After he tried to kill me? And on your orders?”

  “We thought you were a pimp.”

  “Believe me, I’m not some parasitic pimp who lives off human flesh,” Jack said with disdain.

  “We realize that now, which is why we would like to hire you. I will call you in one hour.”

  * * *

  Jack smiled grimly as he hung up and used his own phone to call Rose. “You heard?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “I’m not cutting these guys loose before the next call.” Jack was adamant.

  “Take it easy,” Rose said. “After what I heard, you’ve got the extension.”

  “Thanks … sorry.”

  “Listening to your call, I never knew you could be so passionate about a painting!” No doubt Rose hoped to lighten the moment, relieve his stress a little.

  “I’m passionate when it comes to murdered cops,” Jack said bluntly. “Roche was with someone. I bet it was the Ringmaster.”

  “I agree. Hopefully the French were successful.”

  “I doubt they will be. That’s why he wants to call me back in an hour. He’ll be switching locations. If they did trace the call, he’ll be gone before they get there.”

  “Maybe, but it sounds to me like you played him well,” the staff-sergeant said. “They obviously want to maintain — Hold on, incoming call, let me put you on hold.”

  Jack drummed his fingers on the kitchen table as he waited. He was pleased that Roche had brought up the idea to use him for consulting services. But how do I maintain credibility? They know I wouldn’t blindly walk into a trap.

  * * *

  Seconds later, Rose said, “They’ve traced the call. Your man is in Frankfurt, Germany. The coordinates put him at a place called the Steigenberger Airport Hotel.” She paused. “So. Your call. What do you want done?”

  “Bet he’s already left to check into another hotel,” Jack said. “Frankfurt is a big city. Damn it, even if he stays around the airport, there’ll be lots of other hotels to choose from.” He clenched his fist in frustration, then took a breath and told Rose what he wanted her to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In Frankfurt, Detective Otto Reichartinger listened intently as the officer in their Interpol bureau relayed the information from the French police.

  Otto commanded a specialized surveillance unit, and his team was in the office doing reports and wrapping up the end of their shift before going home. But on hearing what had happened earlier that day in Paris, he ordered his team back to work.

  Moments later copies of Roche’s picture had been given to everyone in his unit, along with the description of a man known only as the Ringmaster. The only details were that he was acrobatic and had collar-length black hair and exceptionally hairy hands.

  Although the murdered policeman was French, Otto was told that his current orders were at the discretion of an undercover policeman from Canada. The instructions were clear. Try to identify the Ringmaster — provided there was zero chance of surveillance being spotted.

  The same condition applied to making inquiries. If a hotel staff member seemed even remotely suspicious, then that hotel was not to be approached. Members of Otto’s team were to lose the subjects, rather than alert them to any police presence.

  If any other players could be identified, so much the better, but the priority of Otto’s team was to identify anyone fitting the description of the Ringmaster.

  Otto glanced at the hair on his hands. Hairy hands. Black hair. That narrows it down to damn near half the men in the country, especially anyone of Mediterranean or Mideastern descent. And acrobatic? How do they expect us to see that? Not a lot of trampolines and trapezes around. And this bullshit of making sure there’s zero chance of surveillance being spotted, give me a break. There’s always a chance.

  Counting himself, there were eight people on the team — and dozens of hotels in the vicinity of the airport besides the Steigenberger. Fortunately, many of them were clustered together so that a person at the wrong hotel could get to the right hotel within minutes. Provided we have minutes, Otto thought.

  He had his team split up to try to cover the various hotel clusters. For himself, he decided to head for a location northeast of the airport, where there were about three dozen hotels, most of which were in walking distance of one other.

  He put a hand on his stomach as he drove. I’ve become soft. Too many years spent sitting on my ass drinking Victoria Bitter. If I have to get out and hustle tonight, the exercise will do me good.

  He glanced at his watch and saw that there was less than fifteen minutes before the next call was to be made. He swore as a motorist slammed on his brakes when he cut him off and blasted his horn behind him.

  One other question plagued Otto’s mind. He was not given the name of the policeman in Canada, but whoever it was had asked for him by name. Strange, considering I have never met a policeman from Canada.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jack returned to the workshop. He motioned for Laura to meet him at the front so he could tell her what happened.

  “You told them the painting represents a lost love?” Laura frowned.

  “I had to come up with some reason for why they simply couldn’t pay me for it. I think it struck a chord with him.”

  “It strikes a chord with me, too,” Laura said. “Sounds to me like you cut me out of the equation. If you’d pretended I was your girlfriend, I would’ve been able to cover you.”

  “You’re still in as one of my people,” Jack replied. “Same for Sammy and Benny. It doesn’t mean you’re cut out of anything.”

  “Where have I heard that one before.” Her tone was stony.

  “Look, a policeman was murdered for trying to save me,” said Jack, “so I’ll play it the best way I know how. If I do have to cut you out, then so be it.”

  “I’m trying to look out for your best interests, is all,” Laura retorted. “Two dead cops won’t help the situation, either.”

  Jack
frowned. “I know you’re thinking of my best interests. I won’t take any chances that aren’t necessary.”

  “Oh, no, you would never do that.” She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm.

  “I’m older. I’ve got a family and —”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Laura shook her head. “As long as you understand where I’m coming from.”

  “I do … and I appreciate it,” Jack said.

  “Good.” Laura reached over to give him an affectionate squeeze on the arm. “That being said, there is one more thing. You requested the police in Frankfurt try and find him. You’re already taking a chance. What if the bad guys spot the heat? If they do, it’ll be game over.”

  “Remember that UC we did where we ended up in Koh Samui — that island off the coast of Thailand?”

  “Yes. We stayed at Bill Resort. Who could forget? I’d love to go back to that place for a holiday.”

  “Remember the detective from Frankfurt we met there? He was there the whole time we were, but we never told him who we really were.”

  Laura stared blankly at Jack.

  “He was friends with the people we met from Norway — Terje, Inger Siri, Eirik, and Trine,” Jack added. “When he was with them, he drank Heineken, but at the Outback Bar in Lamai he usually drank Victoria Bitter.”

  “Oh, yeah, now I remember him. Funny you’d remember him for the beer he drank. I remember him for his eyes. They were almost mesmerizing. A metallic blue.”

  “That’s the guy. His name was Otto.”

  “I’ve never met anyone else with eyes like his,” Laura said.

  “You do remember him. Quite well, I would say,” Jack teased.

  Laura studied Jack briefly. She could see sadness in his face and realized that Kerin’s death must be weighing heavy on his mind. She knew that humour could alleviate stress, so she decided to play along, even though Jack knew she was devoted to her husband. “Well, he was kind of charming,” she replied, sighing wistfully sigh. “Quick to smile, and he could melt you with those eyes of his.”

  “Yes, and like you, he enjoyed a good joke.” Jack grinned, appreciating Laura’s effort.

  “And he mentioned he worked with a special surveillance unit,” she added.

  “He’s in charge of it,” Jack said. “The guy is smart. I trust him not to screw things up. I requested him by name.”

  “Think we’ll be going to Frankfurt?”

  “This morning I thought we might be going to Paris … so I have no idea.”

  “I’ll keep my passport handy,” Laura said, “in the event you don’t cut me out.”

  Jack nodded, then walked to the rear of the shop and had Sammy peel the tape from their captives’ faces and let them sit up. The skin on their faces had become inflamed, wide red stripes where the tape had been repeatedly ripped off. Klaus was still drooling blood and a new temporary crown lay on the floor. He glanced at it and then glared up at Jack.

  “You know, you really do have bad teeth,” said Jack. “Too much candy, I suspect. I wonder if all that sugar makes you stupid, as well.” He knew it was wrong to torment his prisoner, but the hatred he felt for Klaus after what he did to Brandy overrode his conscience.

  Klaus’s response was in German, but Jack had the distinct feeling it wasn’t polite. He turned his attention to Anton. “Your brother should be calling. I’ll let you speak to him.”

  Jack retrieved the phone marked with the number five and returned to the house to wait. He wanted to keep Roche on the phone for as long as possible, and walking back to the workshop to let him talk to Anton would use up some time.

  Roche called at two o’clock and Jack saw that he had switched phones again.

  “Let me speak to my brother,” said Roche, “and I will give him instructions on how to contact you. We don’t mind that you’re keeping the painting and are pleased that you are willing to leave the rest.”

  You really are a terrible liar, Jack thought. “That’s great. I’m glad you feel that way. Not that you have any choice.”

  “Your response is more than generous,” Roche said. “We are also serious about using your, uh, consulting services.”

  Time to play hard to get. “I wouldn’t feel safe working for you, considering that you ordered your men to kill Dempsey and me. Let’s leave it that your brother gets me the passport. As much as I don’t like the idea of meeting your brother again, I presume I’ll have to, so that I can sign the forms with whatever name I’ll be using. But once that takes place, I don’t see us doing business together.” Wish I could be with you in person to watch you sweat over that comment.

  Roche took a couple of deep breaths. He was about to make the biggest gamble of his life. As cagey as Jack apparently was, learning more about him in a one-time meeting might not work. He knew he had to play his last card. “As a gesture of goodwill to prove that you can trust me, I have something to tell you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The passports are no longer available.”

  “They’re not?” Damn. Now what do I say?

  “No,” Roche went on. “Five were obtained, but an audit discovered their disappearance. Anyone using them would be arrested.”

  “Can you get more later?”

  “Unfortunately not. The ones we have would pass scrutiny if used within a country’s borders, but you would be arrested if they were checked or cross-referenced by customs. In the European Union, it is not necessary to check passports when travelling between member countries, but Romania is not a member country.”

  “Good of you to tell me that the passports were no longer of any use,” Jack said. “I appreciate your honesty.” He sounded sincere. “You’re risking that I might take everything and disappear.”

  “I know. We would like to meet with you to discuss what you could offer our organization. We are impressed and intrigued with the way you present yourself and how you, uh, cleaned up the mess there. My telling you about the passports is a gesture to prove that we wish you no harm and would like to hire you.”

  Or maybe you just don’t want me arrested and put where you can’t get your hands on me. “I didn’t expect that,” Jack said. “I’m not sure what to tell you. I need to think about it.”

  “Are you at least willing to give my brother a contact number for you?”

  “Yes, I’ll do that. Perhaps I could have one for you, as well?”

  “My brother will give you an email address where contact can be made. Please let me speak to him. I will talk with him in English so you can listen in and understand.”

  “Sure, but hang on. I’m in the house and he’s in the workshop. I’ll go there right now.”

  “Okay, I’ll hang up and call you back in ten minutes,” said Roche.

  “Hardly necessary. It will only take me —” Jack quit talking when he heard Roche hang up.

  Ten minutes later Roche called back from a different phone, and Jack held his phone for Anton to speak while he listened in. The conversation was brief, but Roche told Anton that the Ringmaster wished to hire Jack to do consulting and made it clear that under no circumstances was he to be harmed.

  Anton was ready to accept any proposal that would save his life. He told Bojan and Klaus the news. Bojan smiled in response, but Klaus gave Jack a cold, hard stare.

  Roche then spoke to Jack. “You will not have a problem when you release them.”

  “I trust you will understand if I decide to be a little cautious about how I do that,” said Jack. “And who the hell is the Ringmaster? Are you guys running a circus?”

  “No, it is simply a code name we use for the president of the company,” Roche explained. “The majority of the people who work for us do not know the real identities of anyone beyond their immediate superior.”

  “And what is your code name?”

  “If you decide to work for us, I will tell you then.”

  “Sounds like you guys do know what you’re doing,” Jack allowed. “By the animals you had working for you who
were mistreating that young lady, I’d thought otherwise.”

  “Yes … Klaus, Liam, and Clive. Let me assure you that Liam will never work for us again. As for Klaus, he will be summoned back and fired upon arrival, but I would ask you to keep that to yourself.”

  “Understood,” Jack replied. “With that in mind, give me a moment to go where I can talk to you in private.”

  “Please make it quick. I am running out of phones.”

  Jack walked outside and said, “Generally, my consultation service involves checking out employees to see who should be trusted and who shouldn’t. I provide further services such as the janitorial work you are aware of, but usually that is only after I’m satisfied with my background inquiries as well. It is not only the executive of a company I wish to protect; obviously there is a need to protect myself as well. Generally people who commit crimes are of lower intelligence, and although needed on occasion, for some, their potential to damage an organization outweighs their short-term value. Risk sometimes exists for those who do have brains. The trick is to figure out who would make a suitable employee and who wouldn’t.”

  “And how do you analyze that?”

  “It depends on what my client’s willing to pay. I can provide a basic background check on an individual, or one that would include close associates. Or I could go all the way and include a psychological profile, which would necessitate a written test, coupled with a personal interview. The latter being one that many of my clients select for those in executive positions. The analysis would indicate the type that’s emotionally needy, the kind of person who brags about his exploits in an attempt to impress people. It could also indicate if he’s the type to talk if approached in, shall we say, a hostile takeover.”

  “You have a background in psychology?”

  “Not officially, but I employ people who do.”

  “What you offer … are you able to do that on an international level?”

  “I have worked for international companies that are usually capable of getting me the information or the contacts I seek. Generally, they have been more than happy to assist me as they know I’ll reciprocate. Working with different organizations also allows me to act as a facilitator to promote smoother transactions between different organizations or help settle territorial disputes.”

 

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