Art and Murder

by Don Easton

  Laura radioed the information to Jack, then waited.

  At twelve-thirty, Jack arrived and parked his car. Sammy and Benny from Drug Section were with him and they walked into the Fort Pub and Grill. Jack was dressed casually in slacks, and Sammy and Benny wore suits and ties. They took a seat to wait for Anton when Laura called Jack.

  “One of the goofs who works for Big Joe snuck over and slapped a magnetic tracker under the back of your car,” she said.

  “Perfect,” Jack said.

  “Anton pulled up, as well,” she added. “He’s on his way in.”

  Jack hung up as Anton entered and joined them at their table.

  Anton swallowed as he glanced at Sammy and Benny, then gave a nervous smile. “Hope you guys aren’t here to haul me away.”

  Jack, along with Sammy and Benny, stared blankly at Anton without answering. His face paled and he swallowed again.

  The waitress arrived immediately and the four men did little talking until they’d each placed their food order. When she left, Jack gave Anton a nod. “What did you want to see me for?”

  “Simply to ensure that you’re willing to follow through with meeting our, uh, representative from Europe. He wanted this confirmed.”

  “I told him I would.” Jack looked annoyed. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

  “I realize that, and by your willingness to meet me, it indicates that you, uh, don’t have any second thoughts on the matter.”

  “I don’t like being dicked around,” said Jack. “I’m not a gofer waiting at someone’s beck and call.”

  “I’m sorry. We wanted to make sure you hadn’t vanished on us. Lunch will be on me.”

  “This is Thursday. The week is almost over. When will I be meeting him?”

  “He is catching a flight Monday morning and with the time difference, will arrive in Vancouver Monday evening.”

  Jack was pleased that the meeting would take place in a few days. He wasn’t pleased that the bug on Anton’s phone hadn’t picked it up. They were missing some of the communication between Anton and his bosses in Europe. Communication that could potentially have deadly consequences.

  “I’m not sure if he would like to meet you Monday night,” Anton continued. “It is a long trip and —”

  “Tuesday is fine with me,” said Jack. “Call me in the morning. I’ll try to keep my schedule free for that day.”

  Forty-five minutes later they finished lunch. Jack glanced at his watch, then looked at Sammy and Benny “We better go if I’m going to get you back to work by two.”

  * * *

  At two o’clock, Jack arrived at the first destination in his plan to enhance his cover story. He let Sammy and Benny out and then drove away.

  Big Joe snapped a couple of surveillance pictures before giving Bojan a thumbs-up. He then pulled out to follow Jack at a discreet distance, aided by the laptop computer he used to monitor Jack’s vehicle’s movements through the magnetic tracker.

  At least we know how he got rid of Clive Dempsey, Bojan thought as he glanced back at the crematorium Sammy and Benny had entered.

  A short time later Jack pulled up in front of the Pan Pacific Hotel in downtown Vancouver and handed his keys to the valet before going inside.

  Big Joe was only two car lengths behind and desperately radioed his two colleagues to follow Jack inside, but they were too far back in traffic. He glanced at Bojan.

  “I can’t do it!” exclaimed Bojan. “He knows me!”

  “I know. I’ll do it, but I can’t park here. Drop me off, drive away, and come back in ten minutes.”

  * * *

  Jack took an escalator up to the lobby on the second floor and saw Big Joe lumbering up after him.

  Yeah, asshole. You’re about as unnoticed as a chocolate cake at a diet seminar.

  Upon reaching the top, Jack sauntered over to the reception desk. Big Joe cleared the top of the escalator.

  “Jack!” a woman called.

  Big Joe definitely saw the attractive Chinese woman on the other side of the lobby waving at Jack.

  “Hey, Tina. How are you?” asked Jack when they met and gave each other a hug.

  He saw Big Joe pause, then pretend to gaze over the railing at a totem pole on the lower level as he watched and listened.

  “What brings you here?” Tina asked, stepping back. “Last I saw of you was when you were doing some consulting work for some international corporation.”

  “Still doing consulting,” Jack replied. “I sold my condo a month ago and am staying here awhile. Where’s your hubby?”

  “John’s next door at the convention center. He should be finished in an hour or two.”

  “I’m staying in the Pacific suite — room 2320. Pop by after and we’ll catch up.”

  “We’d love to.” Tina frowned, then said, “You’re looking thin. Are you okay?” She reached out and gripped his hand.

  Jack gave her hand a squeeze, then let go. “I’m fine.”

  “John and I have thought of you quite a bit since Molly passed on,” said Tina sombrely. “We should have called you.”

  Jack swallowed. “I’m okay. I just need time.”

  “Scuttlebutt is you plan on retiring and moving to Europe or something. Is that true? Is that why you sold your condo?”

  “It’s true, but I’m in no hurry and haven’t decided when or where yet,” he said.

  “You got time to sit for a moment? Maybe grab a coffee?”

  “You bet,” he replied. “We can go here,” he suggested with a nod toward the hotel restaurant, overlooking Vancouver harbour. As they walked toward the restaurant, Big Joe waddled over and took the escalator back down to the street-level exit.

  “Think it went okay?” asked Tina.

  Jack smiled. “Miss Chan, there’s a reason they call you the Asian Heat. You always come through.”

  Tina smiled. “Seems like you’ve been relying on our unit quite a bit lately. How did it go with Sammy and Benny? I heard you used them, too.”

  “It went good enough that I owe them a coffee, as well,” Jack said.

  Tina gave an unladylike snort. “With Sammy, I suggest you make it Canadian Club and Coke.” She looked around the lobby. “This place is beautiful. Did the force really spring for you to stay in a suite here?”

  “Don’t I wish,” replied Jack. “The hotel has been really great at accommodating me, though. An executive assistant who works here has a brother who is a member of the Vancouver City Police. She’s pulled some strings to make it look like I stay here if anyone checks or leaves a message. She’s also given me access to the service elevator that goes up to the luxury suites. I can use the regular elevator to go up if anyone is watching, then sneak out using the service elevator without being seen.”

  “What if someone goes up with you in the elevator?”

  “She’s taken care of that, too. There’s a private lounge up top where complimentary drinks and appetizers are served for those who stay in the suites. All I would do is wander in there. The concierge knows to let me in, but would stop anyone following me and not let them enter.”

  Tina smiled. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  Later that night Bojan, Anton, and Klaus sat at their kitchen table eating dinner and discussing what they’d learned about Jack.

  “The Pan Pacific is one of the top hotels in Vancouver,” said Bojan, chewing on a piece of barbecued steak. “I checked out the fucking suite he’s staying in on the Internet. It looks out on the harbour, mountains, the city skyline … you name it. It’s over eighteen hundred square feet. Even has a baby grand piano in it. This guy is loaded.”

  “Wish we had contacts at a crematorium,” muttered Anton, skewering a mushroom with his fork to savour with the meat.

  Klaus didn’t comment as he sucked his canned lentil soup through a straw. Talking was too painful. He also sensed that both Anton and Bojan were distancing themselves from him. They do plan on getting rid of me. The fucking wimps don’
t have the balls to do what should be done. He glowered at Anton and Bojan as he concocted a course of action.

  I’ll show ’em. All I have to do is kidnap Jack and make him take me to the painting. If I don’t get my hands on it, I can still kill him and deny it. I’m sure he has lots of enemies.

  Klaus started to grin as he fantasized about how he would torture Jack, but a stab of pain hit his jaw and made his eyes water. Painting or no painting, I’ll kill that fucker.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was eight-thirty Friday morning when Jack arrived at his office and listened to a voice message from Special “O” summarizing their surveillance of Big Joe Investigations. After Big Joe left the Pan Pacific Hotel the day before, he had his two cohorts watch the front of the hotel while he returned to his home office. The two cohorts went home at ten o’clock, but had returned at six o’clock in the morning. Big Joe arrived two hours later and was seen monitoring his laptop from where he was parked a block from the hotel.

  “What now?” asked Laura when Jack finished listening.

  “I’ll talk to Rose and get her to help with a quick UC scenario.”

  “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  “I want an older, more mature-looking woman. Not to mention, Rose isn’t a trained operator. This will only be a cameo appearance. I want to save you for when I really need someone I can rely on.”

  Laura smiled. “No problem. You had me at older.”

  * * *

  At ten-thirty that morning, Jack walked out the front entrance of the Pan Pacific Hotel carrying a brown manila envelope as the valet arrived with his SUV. Jack climbed in and drove to the Pacific Central train station. He parked and went inside. Big Joe and his team discreetly followed, with one man going inside to see Jack deposit the envelope in a storage locker.

  Minutes later Jack returned to the hotel to drop of his SUV, but then walked to a nearby street corner and waited. He displayed his impatience by glancing at his watch several times.

  Soon Big Joe’s team saw a smartly dressed woman arrive and speak with Jack. The woman gave Jack a white envelope from her purse. He opened the envelope and partially pulled out a wad of money, then nodded and put the envelope into his inside jacket pocket. He gave the woman a key.

  Big Joe continued following Jack and saw him return to the hotel. His two cohorts followed the woman and saw her retrieve the manila envelope from the train station. They followed her to the trading floor of the stock exchange, where she disappeared.

  Minutes after returning to the hotel, Jack slipped out unnoticed and returned to his office.

  “Go okay?” Laura asked.

  “Like clockwork,” Jack replied. “That should give them something to talk about.”

  “They’ll think you obtained a company secret or supplied insider-trading information to someone.” Laura smiled. “Any other plans to build your nefarious rep’?”

  “Not for now. Let’s catch up on the paperwork and take the weekend off. Special ‘O’ can babysit Big Joe.”

  * * *

  At nine o’clock Monday morning, Jack and Laura sat across from Rose in her office as she read over the reports from Special “O.” When she was finished, she looked at Jack. “What do you make of Big Joe taking his team off the hotel Saturday afternoon?”

  “It’s expensive to hire a private investigation team to do surveillance. The tracker is still on my SUV. If I’d gone anywhere in it, Big Joe could have always checked it out later from his laptop.”

  “What about yesterday?” Rose asked. “Special ‘O’ saw Klaus arrive in the afternoon and hang around outside the hotel wearing a hoodie.”

  “He’s not hard to spot. Dresses like a gangster. Normally wears a ball cap that’s too big for his peanut-sized cranium, and his pants hang halfway down his ass.”

  “He stayed until nine last night,” noted Rose. “Do you think he was simply filling in temporarily over the weekend?”

  Jack glanced at Laura, then shook his head. “No. I checked with Special ‘O’ and they said he had his car parked a couple of blocks away in a parkade. It’s highly unlikely he’d planned on following me. I also spoke with Connie. Yesterday they intercepted a phone call where Anton asked Klaus what he was doing. Klaus managed to grunt out that his mouth was hurting him.”

  “I’m sure it is,” said Rose.

  “Yes, but he told Anton he was waiting in a medical clinic when, in fact, he was outside the Pan Pacific. When Anton called later, Klaus sounded angry at being hassled. He told Anton that he’d gone to a bar and met someone and that he expected he’d be going to her place — incredible as that may seem, considering he can hardly talk. Special ‘O’ placed him outside the hotel both times.”

  As Rose looked at Jack, the reason Klaus lied became crystal clear. “What are you going to do? Is he back at the hotel?”

  “I checked with ‘O’ and they said nobody is there at the moment. Neither Klaus nor Big Joe.”

  “If Klaus is intent on killing you, that’s the one place he knows where to find you,” Rose said. “What would you do if he shows up?” Before Jack could answer she said, “That’s it. You can’t risk going back to the hotel. Not without having Klaus arrested to clear the way. He probably has a gun.”

  “Arrested? Like hell!” Jack was furious. “Do that and we’ll risk burning everything!”

  “What choice do we have?” Rose gave Jack a hard look. “Legally, I mean.”

  “I guess if I’m not supposed to hurt him, I could wear Kevlar and let him shoot me. Then run away and complain to Anton later. Maybe they would reprimand him.”

  “That’s absurd!” Rose said angrily.

  “So is telling me not to hurt someone who’s attacking me,” Jack replied. “Last time I dealt with him he tried to grab the shotgun and you gave me hell for smacking him.”

  Rose exhaled noisily. “Perhaps last time I made a mistake. What about the first time you removed his teeth? Did he try to grab the shotgun then, too?”

  Jack looked a bit sheepish. “I’m sure he was thinking about it.”

  “Exactly!” Rose snapped.

  Laura jumped into the conversation. “This is a whole different scenario,” she said. “He could walk up behind Jack when he’s waiting for the valet and pop him in the back of the head. Are you telling me you’re willing to risk Jack being murdered over the rights of some scumbag who —”

  “Cut the bullshit.” Rose glared at Laura. “Insulting my intelligence won’t get us anywhere. If he pulls a gun on Jack, of course, I’d expect him to defend himself — with lethal force if the situation dictates.” She turned to Jack. “If you’re adamant about not having him arrested, what can you do? I’m not going to risk a shootout on a downtown street.”

  “I agree with that,” Jack said. “I’m a lousy shot, not to mention if I did shoot him, there’s no way we could keep my real identity under wraps. He wouldn’t be hard to outrun, though, what with his pants probably falling to his ankles.”

  “If you had the chance to run,” said Rose wryly. “Not to mention we can’t take a chance on him firing wildly. Do you have an alternative solution? Something that I can convince the brass is appropriate?”

  “How about I report his activities to Anton and threaten to withdraw from any future contact with him?” he suggested. “I’m sure they would, uh, tell him to desist.”

  “Desist? With these guys it’d be more likely that he wouldn’t exist.”

  “You don’t need to tell the brass that,” said Jack. “Besides, if you fly with the crows, expect to get shot.”

  “Yes, but I feel uncomfortable about setting him up, too,” Rose said.

  “Look,” Jack said, “in an ideal situation he might go to court to be judged by twelve of his peers. In my scenario it will be his actual peers who judge him, and whatever decision they come to is a consequence of his actions, not ours.”

  “Providing we don’t encourage them to commit a crime.”

  “That goes witho
ut saying.” Jack furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance.

  “Okay, as long as we’re clear on that matter,” said Rose. “Is Wolfgang on schedule?”

  “Yes, he arrives at the airport tonight at six-thirty. He’s already in the air. Otto is on the same flight. It’s a twelve-and-a-half-hour trip.”

  “Nobody from France coming?”

  “I spoke with a Maurice Leblanc yesterday,” Jack said. “Today is the funeral.” Again, he fought his remorse.

  “It’s not like you can attend, given the circumstances.”

  “I know. I don’t believe in funerals, anyway. The last thing I need to hear is someone eulogizing a person they probably don’t know and hear how some god selected him to go to a better place. The Ringmaster is not a god. Funerals make me angry.”

  “Spoken like a true atheist,” said Rose, “and I can see you’re angry.”

  Jack shrugged. “I am … and I am.”

  “I feel likewise when it comes to religion,” Rose admitted. “Still, sometimes you feel a need to offer emotional support to others who do believe.”

  “Yeah, well, I need to look after my own mental health,” Jack said, “but Maurice wanted to go, so I told him to attend. Kerin’s widow, Gabrielle, also needs support, so I told him I would appraise the situation here and call him if I needed him. The next few days could make a big difference in whether I gain the trust of the Ringmaster. Let’s not blow it over Klaus.”

  Rose grimaced.

  “They killed one of us,” Jack said pointedly. “I don’t care if it was in France. He’s still one of us. More than that, it was someone who was murdered trying to save my life.”

  Rose nodded. “I’m well aware of that. We all are.”

  “Are you?” demanded Jack. “Then why are you concerned about how they deal with Klaus? Who knows, they might simply tell him to back off. Roche said he was being recalled to Europe where they were going to fire him regardless.”

  Rose bit her lower lip, locking eyes with Jack. “Okay, say I go along with that. How would you do it? You can’t burn the wiretap.”