Art and Murder (4 page)

A call to the telecommunications centre said there was nothing on Klaus in Canada, but Liam was listed as being of interest to the Major Crimes Unit in regard to several armed robberies. Jack did not bother with Clive's name, as he already knew he had a previous charge for drug trafficking that had been dismissed in court.

Jack opened the door and motioned for Laura to return so they could confer. After telling her in a whisper about Liam's criminal background, he said, “I'm going to get Clive to take me to the guys he delivered the coke to. If we took all three of them, these guys we're meeting would likely get the drop on us.”

“You want me to stay here with Klaus and Liam?” Laura asked.

“Yes. Clive's a wimp so I can handle him okay.” He gave a half-smile. “Although a lot of guys get wimpy when you kick 'em in the nuts.”

“That was nothing compared to what you did to Klaus,” said Laura, sounding defensive. “If anyone is wimpy, it should be him.”

“Yeah, Klaus.” Jack's tone was serious. “Watch that guy — and not just for breathing difficulties. He's more than a sadist. He's evil.”

“I know,” agreed Laura. “I can see it in his eyes.”

“Liam won't be a problem. He shit himself earlier and is still babbling.”

“What if Clive sets you up? He may be bullshitting about the coke.”

“I don't think he is. That was his reason for going to Mexico. I'm sure there's a lot more than a pound at the stash, which is why Klaus doesn't want me to know where it is. If things turn ugly, Klaus and Liam can be used as bargaining chips.”

“Bargaining chips,” repeated Laura. “That's a polite term for kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping? Nah, I simply think of it as being a little slow at reading them their rights. As far as my safety goes, they only know I have a shotgun. It might be better if Clive doesn't think I'm armed when he takes me. Whoever I'm meeting will be more inclined to talk first rather than shoot first. I want you to do a little scenario out there about your being worried about my safety.”

“I
am
worried about your safety,” replied Laura seriously.

“Good, you won't have to pretend.” Jack then eyed Brandy and said, “I'd like an extra pair of eyes to help Laura watch these guys while I'm gone. Are you okay to stay? Or do you think you should get to a hospital?”

“I'd like a doctor to check out my burns, but I'm okay for now,” replied Brandy. “I would like to have a shower, though.”

“Make it quick,” said Jack.

Brandy frowned, then said, “I hope I don't get scars or something. I mean, how would I explain that if I was to get married?”

Jack and Laura didn't reply and returned to the main room. Jack tore off the blindfolds again. He then prodded Clive in the ribs with his foot while holding their driver's licences in one hand and the shotgun in the other. “You, big nuts … or I guess your name is Clive,” he said, glancing at the driver's licences. “Do you guys have wheels at the hotel?”

“Klaus and I do,” Clive answered. “Liam came with Klaus.”

Laura looked at Jack. “I'm worried about you taking off with this jerk and leaving me the gun. What if he —”

“I don't need a gun to handle this little hemorrhoid,” said Jack gruffly. “We'll go in his car and he'll drive. You'll need the blaster to cover these other two turds. If I get held hostage, flip a coin and kill one of them, then exchange me with the other guy.”

“Somebody might hear the gunshot,” Laura cautioned.

“Not if you shove the barrel far enough up their asses. It will muffle the sound.”

Klaus and Liam looked at each other as they thought of their chances with a coin toss.

“One more thing for you guys to know.” Jack smiled grimly. “I texted your names and addresses to a good friend of mine. He's not as nice as I am. Clive and Liam, I see you each have a P.O. box for an address. Klaus, your address is in Germany. It doesn't matter where you guys live. If anything happens to me, you'll be tracked down.” He looked at Clive. “Get dressed. You're taking me for a drive.”

Once Clive was dressed and they were about to leave, Jack looked at Laura and said, “While you're waiting, clean your prints from the room. If you don't hear from me within an hour, kill 'em both and fuck off.”

“Oh, God!” Liam cried. “Please … an hour…. What if that's not enough?”

“No talkin',” Jack snarled.

Outside in the hotel parking lot, Jack had Clive give him the keys to his car and asked, “Which one is it?”

“Over there.” Clive pointed. “The white Beamer.”

Once in the car, Jack returned the keys to Clive and told him to drive.

“Where we going?” asked Jack.

“They live on an acreage out in Fort Langley.”

“They?”

“Klaus and two of his buddies rent the place.”

“And you're sure they'll still have a pound?”

“I delivered it to them this morning. I'm pretty sure they still got it.”

“Pretty sure?” said Jack harshly.

“Well, uh, I mean, I mean … there's always other stuff. I know they got lots of jewellery.”

“I told you how I feel about wearing that,” replied Jack. “Do they have anything else I might be interested in?”

“Not really, unless you're interested in some fake IDs.”

“You mean driver's licences?”

“No, I'm talking passports.”

“Passports? Yeah, right.” Jack ladled on the sarcasm. “A buddy of mine could sure use one, but these days you'd never be able to cross a border with a fake passport.”

“These aren't fake,” Clive protested. “They're real. I've, uh, got … know people using them. Your friend would have to pretend to be from Romania, but everything about the passport itself is authentic.”

“How the hell did they end up with Romanian passports? If they robbed some tourists, the passports will light up the customs' computer like the Vegas strip.”

“They didn't take them from anyone using them. They're basically blank. These guys have a connection. All they need is a passport photo to make one up.”

“Really? That sounds interesting. If you're giving me the straight goods, I'd like to get one for myself, as well as my friend.”

“I'll ask them,” Clive said.

“How well do you know these guys where we're going?”

“I met Klaus a while back at a nightclub. He introduced me to his two friends later. Him I know really well, but the other two are a little more standoffish.”

Jack knew he couldn't ask many more questions without arousing suspicion. The rest of the trip was relatively quiet, but the closer they got to their destination, the more jittery Clive became.

After driving down some back-country roads, they arrived at a property surrounded by a high, chain-link fence. Jack hadn't seen a sign to indicate what road they were on, but texted a rough location to Laura when Clive parked in front of an electric gate and pushed the intercom button. Eventually a sleepy voice said, “Who's there?”

“Clive. I gotta talk to you. It's urgent.”

The gate opened and they drove down a driveway lined on both sides by large cedar trees. Motion-sensor lights illuminated the roadway, and Jack saw a birdhouse on a tree that faced down the driveway.
Closed-circuit television camera? What have I gotten into?
The 9mm pistol tucked in the back of his belt usually felt uncomfortable, but not now.

They arrived in a yard illuminated with floodlights and parked in front of a modest, ranch-style house. Nearby was a storage building with a large sliding door on the front. Two men came out of the house and approached them as Clive turned off the ignition.

“You sure these are the only two guys here?” asked Jack. “I really hate surprises.”

“I think so, but … uh, they're heavy-duty and won't like it that I brought you along. Better just let me do the talking.”

As soon as they stepped out of the car, one of the men gestured with his thumb at Jack. “Who the fuck is this?” he asked Clive. He had a French accent, Jack noticed.

“It's okay, Anton. He, uh, his name is Jack.” Clive paused, then glanced at the other man. “Hey, Bojan. Sorry to wake you guys up, but I, uh, was …” He paused again and looked at Jack nervously. “Well, me and Klaus and Liam were sort of being rough with one of this guy's, uh, lady friends. To compensate for hurting her I agreed to give him a pound of coke.”

“You brought a pimp here … to this place,” said Anton. His voice was cold and ominous.

He whispered something to Bojan, who looked at Clive and asked, “Did you search him?”

“Yes, of course,” Clive lied. “He's not packing. I know he's cool.”

“But you brought him here,” Bojan said, the anger in his voice almost palpable.

“I, uh, made him keep his head down below the dash, so he doesn't know where he is,” responded Clive with another nervous glance at Jack.

Jack nodded, pretending to agree.
Actually, I don't really know where I am.

“Uh, but, there's a problem,” said Clive.

“I'll say there's a problem.” Bojan's tone was menacing.

“No, I mean the reason I agreed to bring him,” Clive continued. “He … a couple of his ladies are holding Klaus and Liam in a hotel room until he gets the pound.”

“Holding Klaus?” Anton said incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

With a nod toward Jack, Clive said, “He burst into the room and smacked Klaus in the face with a shotgun and got the drop on us. Right now, Klaus and Liam are both naked, tied up and blindfolded. His ladies are guarding them with a shotgun.”

Anton looked at Jack in amazement, then yelled, “Your whores are holding my friend Klaus with a fucking shotgun and you have the balls to come here?”

“Only holding them as collateral until I get my pound,” replied Jack calmly. “I am not looking to hurt them. Once I'm compensated, everyone can be on their way.”

Anton stepped forward and scrutinized Jack's face closely. “Everyone wait. I'll be right back.”

A few minutes passed with Bojan staring silently at Clive while Jack pretended to walk around and nonchalantly admire Clive's car. In reality, he wanted to use the car for protection if Anton returned with a gun and the intent to kill him.

Eventually Anton returned empty-handed and gave a subtle shake of his head at Bojan, then slammed Clive in the chest with both hands and watched him stumble backward.

“What the —”

“You were told never to bring anyone here!” Anton shouted at Clive.

“What choice did I have?” whined Clive. “I'm saving Klaus's life. Liam's too. You know we'll pay it back.”

“You're a fucking idiot!” retorted Anton. “So is Klaus!”

As Clive stood meekly without responding, Jack glanced at his watch and said, “Listen, boys, I don't have all night. If I don't make a phone call soon, some poor maid is going to have a hell of a mess to clean up.”

Bojan looked at Anton, then said, “You better call your brother.”

Anton nodded, then took a phone out of his pocket and walked a short distance away to make the call. As he did, Clive took the opportunity to whisper to Jack, “Be calm. Everything will be okay. They're pissed off, but really, I don't see what the big deal is.”

Jack looked at the enraged faces of Anton and Bojan.
Something's a big deal. A really big deal.

It was approaching one o'clock in the afternoon in Paris, and Kerin was becoming more anxious as he sat on a bench with Roche in the park. Roche had received a call saying that the Ringmaster would arrive at twelve-thirty, but there had been no calls since then to explain the delay.

Kerin was aware that the sunshine had brought office workers into the park to stroll around during their lunch break, but now the park was clearing out, leaving his cover team more exposed. “This is ridiculous,” he complained. “We've been here for almost two hours. Where is he?”

Roche did not tell Kerin that the delay was for counter-surveillance. Instead, he said, “You're right. I will check with the Ringmaster. Wait one moment and —” He looked startled as one of his phones vibrated. “My emergency phone,” he muttered as he fished it out of his pocket. “From … my brother in Canada.”

Canada?
Kerin listened as Roche spoke to his brother. He saw a look of concern cross Roche's face and heard the name
Clive Dempsey
before Roche hung up.

“Everything okay?” Kerin asked.

Roche shook his head. “If you become a juggler for our organization, what would you do if one of the people who work for you brought a stranger to the stash house at quarter-to-four in the morning, wanting to get a pound of cocaine?”

“Cocaine?” Kerin looked puzzled.

“I know, I know,” replied Roche. “It is a new commodity that I chose to venture into on my own. A decision I may come to regret. But back to the question, what would you do? Especially when the person had been warned never to tell anyone about it.”

“Is this happening in Canada right now?”

Roche nodded.

“I … I'm not sure,” Kerin stammered, not wanting to promote murder but at the same time not wanting to appear weak and hinder his chance of being accepted.

“You're not sure?”

“Without knowing the full circumstances,” Kerin explained. “An unknown person … perhaps the Ringmaster should be consulted before any drastic action is taken. Time may be needed to find out who he is.”

“Time is not an option they have. Still, I agree that the Ringmaster should be consulted.”

“In Canada …,” said Kerin, becoming increasingly worried as the possibility of a more serious concern entered his mind. “I know the police there are allowed to portray themselves as criminals. Are you afraid that the person he brought is police?”

“No, no, don't worry.” Roche smiled. “The stranger is only a pimp. Quite … dispensable.” He got to his feet. “I'll be back in ten minutes,” he said, then left while thumbing his phone.

* * *

The Ringmaster continued to watch.
Who was Roche talking to? Kerin appears nervous … looking across the park. The man on the far side in a blue windbreaker is watching him. Kerin is tapping his watch….

The Ringmaster studied the man in the windbreaker.
A droopy moustache, and it's twitching. Looks like a tarantula dancing on his lip,
mused the Ringmaster before refocusing on Kerin.
He's getting up….

* * *

Kerin stepped into the public washroom. He glanced under the cubicle doors and saw that he was alone. Roche had told him that he was not to make any phone calls before meeting the Ringmaster, but he took out his phone and called his boss, Yves Charbonneau, to quickly outline what was happening in Canada.

“I didn't think they were involved with drugs,” Yves said.

“Roche said it's a venture he got into on his own. Forget the drugs. Two men in Canada might be murdered!”

“Who cares if two criminals in Canada are murdered? Focus on what you are doing.”

“Criminals or not, shouldn't we try to stop it? How will it look in court if I am questioned and say we did nothing to prevent it?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” grumbled Yves. “I'm having lunch with a friend at the moment. When I return to the office I will contact Interpol. It's not like anyone could stop it, but you're right, it will look better if we appear to make an effort.”

* * *

The Ringmaster answered Roche's call and listened as he explained the situation in Canada, then asked, “Are you sure the man with Clive is a pimp?”

“Yes. Klaus, Clive, and Liam were abusing the whore when the pimp showed up with another whore and beat Klaus with a shotgun.”

“Klaus,” the Ringmaster muttered. “I shouldn't be surprised. I'm glad the pimp beat him. Why was he with the other two?”

“The whore was a present for Liam. He is getting married next week and Klaus thought it would promote a better relationship by —”

“Don't give me that shit. Klaus is an ass. The whore was for him as much as anyone. I know what he likes to do to women.”

“So what should I tell Anton to do?”

“I can't believe the timing,” the Ringmaster grumbled. “Years spent tracking down a rumour … then finding out the rumour was true.”

“The ship sales from Vancouver in three weeks,” Roche said.

“You needn't remind me. I've been counting the days … and now this. What if the pimp is caught by the police and tells them about the drugs? Or worse yet, decides to gather a few friends and come back and steal everything? For my Pierrot to fall into the hands of a pimp is too disgusting to contemplate. What will he do? Hang it in some brothel?”

“The painting's well hidden,” said Roche.

“Do you trust Anton not to talk under torture? Look what the pimp did to Klaus.”

Roche didn't respond. The idea of his brother being tortured was too horrific to imagine.

“Your silence answers that,” said the Ringmaster. “I'm not particularly fond of pimps, let alone someone stupid enough to bring him there. Would Liam be a problem if Clive was permanently removed?”

“No.”

“Then let Liam live, but tell Anton to dispose of Clive and the pimp immediately.”

“There could be an investigation,” warned Roche.

“I doubt a missing pimp will cause the police to do anything … but no matter, tell them to hide the bodies and leave Clive's car parked at an airport or a train station. If the police do look into their disappearances, it will throw them off-track. Once my Pierrot is onboard ship, tell Anton it is time for them to return to Europe.”

“He will be pleased. I know he is homesick.”

“Good. Once you receive confirmation that Liam and the pimp have been taken care of, ensure he disposes of the phone, which is what I will be doing when we are done talking.”

“Naturally, but …”

“But what?”

“Will we abandon North America completely?”

The Ringmaster smiled. “I will soon retire. That is a decision which will be left up to you or one of the other jugglers.”

“You have hinted at retirement before, but I did not realize your decision was imminent,” said Roche in surprise.

“I've made enough,” replied the Ringmaster. “Besides, I am becoming bored. It is time to move on.”

“Who were you thinking of to —”

“I have given the matter much thought. Although I am inclined to think it should be you who replaces me, it is important that the other three receive a fair voice. I am not counting your brother, as he is too new.”

“By fair voice?”

“I want there to be harmony in the decision. If there are any objections or reasons to oppose you, it needs to be discussed. That is better than someone sticking a knife in your back later.”

“When will this take place?”

“Our Italian juggler happens to be in Germany at the moment meeting with our man there. Tomorrow we will have a meeting in Frankfurt to give everyone time to think about it and then come to a final decision in a month or so.”

“I am truly grateful that you favour me to take over.”

The Ringmaster focused the binoculars on Roche's face. “Good. The day I hang the Pierrot in my gallery will be the day I step aside.” The concern was evident on Roche's face. The task of handling the situation in Canada was now of utmost importance to him, as well.

“Are you ready to meet Kerin?” asked Roche, anxious to get matters taken care of.

“I have some concern in that regard. Did you say anything to him about your call from Canada?”

“I mentioned that someone had brought a stranger to our stash house and asked him what he would do about it if he were the juggler.”

“And his response?”

Roche chuckled. “At first he was worried that it might be a cop. I assured him it was only a pimp.”

“And why would he worry if it was a cop? Especially in Canada?”

Roche was silent as he thought about it.

The Ringmaster continued, “There is more. After you left, Kerin may have signalled to a man in the park.”

“What man?” Roche looked cautiously around.

“He is wearing a blue windbreaker and has a droopy moustache. Kerin made eye contact with him and then tapped his watch and opened his hand twice.”

“I told him I would be back in ten minutes,” said Roche sombrely.

“He then went to the public washroom for a few minutes. Nobody went in with him, but he may have used his phone. I also think you are being followed, although I am not sure.”

“My God! I trusted him.”

“I warned you that your trust in him seemed rushed.”

“I can't believe it. If this is true …”

“Don't worry about it. This is one of the reasons we take the precautions we do.”

“What should I do?” asked Roche.

“I want to confirm my suspicions. Tell him our people in Canada have discovered that the pimp really is an
agent provocateur.
Then say you are to meet me in a couple of minutes at the café across the street to discuss whether they should both be disposed of. Tell Kerin to wait where he is, then go to the café.”

Roche glanced around again, taking note of the people he saw, then said, “If what you suspect is happening, should the two men in Canada be killed?”

“It is of more concern to me if the pimp lives. He may return with others and find the stash before we can move it. I will sleep better knowing they are dead.”

“And the two whores the pimp has guarding Klaus and Liam?”

“What can they do? At best, tell the police they are whores who kidnapped and beat two people … or as it will turn out, more likely murdered the two people they held captive. I am fed up with Klaus and don't care what happens to him. Either way, the whores aren't going to tell the police about it.”

“And the situation here?” asked Roche. “If Kerin is working for the police … or with the recent approval of an
agent provocateur,
perhaps he is a cop.”

“His concern that the pimp in Canada could be an undercover agent would tell me the guy likely is. An informant wouldn't care that much about what is happening in Canada.” The Ringmaster paused. “The French police have never been allowed to use such measures before. So how would you know? If they set Kerin up to meet you, they would have had to start prior to receiving their new powers. This may be an opportunity to persuade the French justice system that their new investigative tool should be taken away. I will deal with him.”

“You will deal with him yourself? Now?”

The Ringmaster laughed. “Why not? It will be fun. Like a magician doing slight of hand, all eyes will be on you and not where they should be. For me, I will treat it like the last performance I give … before taking my final bow and leaving the stage.”

Roche smiled. “And the stage may soon be in my hands.”

“Precisely. If my suspicions are true and things go as I suspect, meet me tonight in Frankfurt. If you are detained by the police, contact me when you are free or through your lawyer and we will set another time.”

Roche glanced around the park yet again. Most people had left. Who was staying? A couple walking a dog seemed legitimate … but a man and a woman staring at a flower bed seemed to be taking far too long to enjoy the beauty, and they did not appear particularly fond of each other. Another man was taking an inordinate amount of time to tie his shoe.
The Ringmaster has a sharp eye….

“If you are right, then I likely will be arrested,” said Roche, sounding matter-of-fact. “I have made certain statements to him, including today.”

“Arrested on what evidence?” replied the Ringmaster. “Especially if there is no witness to testify against you. Telling fairy tales to impress someone you thought was a gangster may have been childish, but it is hardly grounds to convict you of anything. You would be released in time for supper.”

“I suppose you're right,” Roche allowed.

“Tell Anton to tidy up the loose ends in Canada, then talk to Kerin and tell him what I told you to say. If my suspicions are right, I am certain I will see some activity to confirm.”

Roche hung up and called Anton, giving him the order to kill Clive and the pimp.

“And what about Klaus and Liam?” asked Anton.

“If you can think of a way to save them, fine. If not, don't worry about it.”

Upon hanging up, Roche walked over and stood before Kerin, who was sitting on the bench.

“Did you speak with the Ringmaster?” asked Kerin.

“Yes, but I also spoke to our people in Canada. They grabbed who they thought was a pimp and searched him. They found a badge.”

“He's a police officer!” exclaimed Kerin.

“I'm meeting the Ringmaster in the café across the street in a few minutes to talk about it face to face. I'm certain I'll be told to have our men kill him and the idiot who brought him there.”

“Are you sure that's wise?” asked Kerin. “Other officers could be watching him.”

“They don't think the cop has had any way to tell anyone where he is. That's why I'm sure the Ringmaster will order it done immediately.” He smiled and put his hand on Kerin's shoulder. “It's okay, my friend. Wait here while I go to the café. With what is going on, I don't know if the Ringmaster will still want to see you today.”