Art and Murder (20 page)

“Good,” Rose said.

Laura eyed Jack.
I know you. When the time comes, all you'll do is lose the cover team or send them on a wild-goose chase someplace else.

Reading her mind, Jack turned to Rose and said, “I would also like Laura there to guide the cover team. She's experienced and knows how I operate.”

“That won't be a problem,” replied Rose. “Undercover is new to the French. We need someone with you who knows the ropes.”

Laura looked at Rose and nodded in agreement, before glancing at Jack.
Yes, I do know how you operate. You want me to play Mother Goose and help lead them away from you. Oh, man …

On February 15 Jack stretched out in the first class comfort of the Boeing 747 400-passenger jet operated by British Airways. His almost twelve-hour flight from Vancouver was due to arrive in Paris at five-thirty in the evening of the following day. The RCMP liaison officer stationed in Paris was away, but his presence was not needed, as the French were more than eager to be involved.

Jack accepted the complimentary glass of champagne and exchanged a toast with Wolfgang, who was seated across the aisle from him.

Five days earlier Anton had left Canada and flown to Paris. The following day Bojan was intercepted making a phone call to arrange for home furnishings to be shipped to an address in Bulgaria. Interpol discovered that the address belonged to Bojan's parents. The day after the furniture was picked up, Bojan left Canada.

Wolfgang then gave Jack a round-trip ticket to Paris with a return date of two weeks later, along with a promise that he could extend his stay if he wished. He said that once in Paris, they would be staying at the Renaissance Paris Vendome Hotel, which, he noted, was within easy walking distance of the Louvre and the Museum d'Orsay, and only four kilometres from the Eiffel Tower. Jack was also told to charge all restaurant and bar expenses in the hotel to his room and that it would be paid for.

Laura, flying economy, had been put on an American Airlines flight that had an almost identical arrival schedule. Otto had returned to Germany ten days earlier, but made arrangements to fly to Paris to assist in the investigation when she arrived.

Jack checked out the hotel on the Internet and discovered it cost more than $700 a night. Another hotel, called Hôtel du Louvre, was reserved for Laura at a cost of $165 a night and was less than a ten-minute walk away. Otto was booked into the same hotel as Laura.

Jack grinned when he thought of the dirty look Laura pretended to give him over the discrepancy in travel and accommodation.
Love it when the bad guys pay.

Despite knowing what hotel he was booked at, Jack agreed that the French police would put a surveillance team on him when he arrived at the Paris airport. Undercover operations seldom went as planned, but he knew it would be busy enough on arrival that the team should go undetected.

Jack had also spoken with Maurice Leblanc, who was to be part of the surveillance team. He was anxious to meet with him face to face to express his gratitude for what Kerin had died trying to do. He also wanted to visit Kerin's wife, Gabrielle, but knew the secrecy of the undercover operation demanded she not know. There was also fear it would build up her hopes that the man who murdered her husband would be caught, adding to the devastation she would feel if Jack wasn't successful.

Police forces in Spain, Malta, and Italy had been contacted and all agreed to supply a cover team for their areas. On top of that, Maurice, along with his boss, Yves Charbonneau, would assist in covering Jack in each country, along with Laura and Otto. Solving Kerin's murder was the primary objective, and therefore the investigation was under the control and direction of the French police.

The flight arrived on time, and Jack and Wolfgang booked into the Renaissance Paris Vendome at nine o'clock. Their rooms were on different floors, which Jack was pleased about. It gave him more freedom to leave undetected.

After checking in, Jack called Laura.

“You in?” he asked.

“Yes, still unpacking. Otto, Maurice, and Yves are with me.”

“I saw a huge park a block from my hotel called the Tuileries Garden. I wonder if it's the same park where —”

“No. I saw it, too, and asked Maurice. Kerin was murdered in a different park. Why did you want to know?”

“Guess it doesn't matter. But every park I see makes me think of him and question what I did that night.”

“It's wasn't your fault. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Jack decided to change the subject. “What's your read on Yves? He'll be the one we have to answer to.”

“Might be too soon to say,” replied Laura, smiling at Yves, who was watching her. “Quail, did you say? Bet that was good. Wish I could have gone first class.”

“You mean he's like our old boss? Staff Quaile?”

“Yes.”

“Christ. Nobody could be that big of an asshole.”

“Yes, you're probably right about that,” agreed Laura. “First impressions and I'm tired, but Otto has some good news on finding the real owner of the painting.”

“He found the owner? How?”

“Remember the old gentleman tortured in Surrey when they stole the picture?”

“Herman Jaiger.”

“Yes, and he had a document of authentication from the Goldman Art Verification Agency in Paris, dated in 1933 and addressed to a Mr. Guri L. Sacher in Paris.”

“Yes, there's a school at that address now. So Otto found him?”

“Not exactly. Mr. Sacher died a few years ago, but Otto found his daughter. He hasn't told her yet because he doesn't want word to get out in case it jeopardizes our investigation.”

“That's fantastic. How did he do it?”

“Let me put him on and he can tell you,” said Laura.

Seconds later Otto spoke. “So, you need me to teach you how to be a detective.”

“Sounds like it,” admitted Jack. “How did you find her?”

“We Germans have a reputation for being thorough,” said Otto dryly. “Lists were kept of many of those who were exterminated during the Second World War. His name was not on any list.”

“Okay …”

“The most popular country the Jews fled to was Switzerland. After making a couple of dozen phone calls and pretending I was a distant cousin interested in tracing the family tree, I located his daughter. She told me she went to Paris about ten years ago to look up the family home and discovered a school there. Her father, Guri Leib Sacher, died of old age a few years ago.”

“Good work,” Jack said. “When the investigation is over, we'll be able to return it.”

“That's what I thought. Here, I'll put Laura back on.”

“So what's the plan?” she asked.

“I'm exhausted and going to bed. I'm to meet Wolfgang downstairs tomorrow morning at nine for breakfast. He said we'd have someone joining us.”

“The Ringmaster?”

“Wolfgang said he wasn't sure who'd be coming. My gut tells me it will be someone else. I don't think they're done checking me out, so try to keep the surveillance team at bay if you can.”

“That might be hard.”

“I don't want anyone in there on surveillance,” said Jack firmly. “Don't tell the others about it and I'll call you after breakfast. If it is the Ringmaster, I'll be meeting him more than once. I've got what he wants. He's not going to dismiss me that easily.”

Yeah, here it goes,
Laura thought
. I'm not even unpacked and already you're telling me to ditch the cover team. Oh, man.

“You hear me?” Jack's voice was stern.

“Yeah, I hear you.”

* * *

At eight o'clock the following morning Jack went downstairs and entered Le Pinxo restaurant, situated inside the hotel. He knew he was an hour early, but he hadn't adjusted to the time difference and had been awake since five. He ordered a cappuccino, then another.

Forty-five minutes later he saw Wolfgang enter the restaurant. He was accompanied by a man who looked to be about forty-five, with thinning hair that was too black to be natural. The man was portly and dressed in black slacks and a red, V-neck sweater. A gold loop hung from the lobe of each ear. Wolfgang introduced him to Jack as Roche Freulard, and the pair took seats across the table.

Jack eyed Roche and said, “I thought you had some legal difficulties. I trust you didn't bring that problem with you?”

“I have taken the necessary precautions to ensure I was not followed,” was his reply.

“Are you staying at the hotel?”

“No.” Roche glanced at Wolfgang as if to question why Jack would ask.

“You're not wearing a coat and it's cold and rainy outside,” said Jack, “so I presume you left it in Wolfgang's room — no doubt when you were talking about me.”

Roche looked taken back, but Wolfgang chuckled.

Roche raised his hand to summon the waitress. When the young woman arrived, Roche smiled and spoke to her in French, apparently asking about something on the menu. When she leaned over to point at an item on the menu, Roche put his hand around her waist.

The waitress grabbed his wrist and flung his arm off her, then stepped back, obviously annoyed. Somewhat sullenly, Roche ordered a café au lait and a croissant. Both Wolfgang and Jack ordered omelettes and coffee, and the waitress left.

The conversation amongst the three men was general in nature during breakfast. Not until the table had been cleared and they were just finishing their coffees did Roche looked at Jack and say, “So, Wolfgang has told me that he is impressed with your abilities.”

“I get by,” Jack said.

“In Canada, perhaps.” Roche frowned. “But we are not in Canada here.”

“Guess that would explain my twelve-hour flight yesterday,” Jack replied.

Wolfgang snickered but Roche wasn't amused. “What I am saying,” Roche said, a tinge of anger in his voice, “is that you may be like a magician in your country at making things disappear, but how would you perform here?”

“Things disappear?” Jack repeated.

“You know what I mean. Things like a car and … what was in the trunk.”

“I'd find a way. A car is easy. I could do that immediately.”

Roche exchanged a surprised look with Wolfgang before asking, “How?”

“Do you have a car?” asked Jack.

“Yes. A black Peugeot parked outside.”

“Give me the keys,” Jack said. “It would be too easy to dispose of if you were along, as you're the owner, but let me take Wolfgang for a drive to show him how.”

Roche exchanged another glance with Wolfgang, who said, “Why not? Let me see what he would do.”

Minutes later Jack got into the Peugot with Wolfgang beside him while Roche stood on the sidewalk watching, first with his arms folded across his chest, then holding his hands behind his back before once more folding his arms across his chest.

Wolfgang gave a nod toward Roche. “You've made him nervous. Do you mind telling me where we're going?”

“First I need to get a pair of pliers,” Jack said. “Actually, I bet I could borrow a pair from hotel maintenance.”

“Pliers?” Wolfgang looked mystified. “What for?”

“I'll find an alley and loosen the plug on his oil pan to drain the oil, then take his car out for a spin. Once the engine seizes up, I'll look for the cheapest one-man tow-truck operation I can find. When the guy shows up, I'll pretend to be angry and say the warning lights were always going on and off and that the car was constantly quitting on me, but the dealership could never find the problem. I'll offer him a thousand Euros if I can watch the car being crushed today. He'll think I'll be reporting it stolen later and I doubt he'll look too hard at the paperwork.”

“I bet you're right,” said Wolfgang. “That's amazing that you would come up with that so fast.” He glanced back at Roche, who was still watching.

“Not really. Wait and I'll go borrow some pliers.” Jack began opening the car door. “Let's do it.”

Wolfgang gasped. “God, no! Roche would go nuts. I think you've demonstrated your point.”

“Are you sure?” Jack gestured at Roche and said, “Maybe I could get him to volunteer so I can show you how to dispose of a body.”

Wolfgang laughed and moments later Jack returned the keys to Roche. Wolfgang told Roche about how Jack would get rid of a car, but when he got to the part about Jack wondering if Roche would volunteer for a demonstration on body disposal, Roche cast Jack a suspicious glance.

As they walked back into the hotel lobby, Roche turned to Jack. “I presume you're tired after your long flight yesterday. With that in mind, I will leave, but I have made a dinner reservation for eight o'clock tonight at the dining room in the Hôtel Meurice. It is one block over on the Rue de Rivoli,” he said, with a toss of his hand in the general direction. “I presume you brought a suit?”

“I did,” replied Jack.

“Good. Wear it. I plan on introducing you to someone.”

“Someone?” Jack asked.

Roche smiled. “You will see. I suggest you get some rest. I will also give you my phone number should you need to contact me.” He handed Jack a slip of paper.

“Unfortunately, I will not be joining you,” said Wolfgang. “I have some matters that need looking after and will be returning to Frankfurt later today.”

“So soon?” Jack frowned. “I was hoping we could all meet today or tomorrow so I could start my consultation process.”

Wolfgang said, “I am sure we will be meeting soon for such a purpose.”

“Yes,” Roche added. “We want to give you time to look around and enjoy yourself. There will be time for work later.”

So I'm not trusted enough yet.

Jack bade both men a friendly goodbye, but felt his apprehension grow as he speculated about what was in store for him tonight.