Art and Murder by Don Easton

One was a Bulgarian passport made out to Bojan Buchvarov, one was a German passport made out to Klaus Eichel, and the last one was a French passport for Anton Freulard.
    He photographed the passports and sent the information to Rose, asking her to run Klaus’s and Bojan’s names past the French police. After that he checked the den where the monitors were located for the CCTV cameras mounted around the property, along with an alarm system. It didn’t surprise him that there wasn’t a recorder hooked up to record the camera images. The bad guys didn’t want to be identified, either.
    A plan was forming in his head, but he knew that he and Laura couldn’t do it on their own. He decided to phone someone he could trust and sat in the den to make the call.
    Sammy Crofton was a trained undercover operative who worked in Drug Section. He sounded groggy when he answered — he must’ve been sleeping — but upon hearing that an undercover policeman had been murdered, he sounded alert.
    Jack outlined exactly what he wanted, but said it would be better if Sammy could bring someone else with him.
    â€œI have someone who’d be good,” Sammy said.
    â€œNobody can know about this,” Jack replied, “until I say otherwise.”
    â€œWhat about my own boss?”
    â€œNot even him. Make note that I am telling you Assistant Commissioner Isaac has approved this, but it is on a need-to-know basis only.”
    The lie was to protect Sammy down the road, and he knew Sammy understood that.
    â€œSo who’s your guy?” Jack said.
    â€œBenny.”
    â€œBenny?”
    â€œBenny Saunders. He’s an operator and a good friend of mine. A stocky little fucker with a real pockmarked face. Ugly as the day is long. Couldn’t attract a hooker if he had a fist full of hundreds.”
    â€œI’ve never worked with him,” Jack said.
    â€œI trust him,” Sammy said
    â€œThat’s good enough for me,” Jack replied.
    â€œOne quick question. I’ve got a goatee. You said you wanted us to wear suits and ties, so want me to take the whiskers off?”
    â€œNo, your goatee will enhance the appearance I want. One more thing, if you have time, grab a computer flash stick for me if you’ve got one handy, but if not, don’t waste time getting one.”
    â€œI’ll bring one from home. Gotta hustle if I’m gonna grab the surveillance van before anyone shows up for work.”
    â€œTry and be here by eight-thirty this morning.”
    After talking with Sammy, Jack looked at the computer in front of him. It had been left on, so he moved the mouse and the screen opened to reveal a series of surveillance photographs taken of Clive Dempsey and people associated with him.
    It was then Jack realized why Anton had gone back into the house when he and Clive had first arrived, then come back and shaken his head at Bojan. He was checking to see if I was on file.
    He opened the computer desk drawer and his question as to who had taken the surveillance photos was answered. He found an invoice from a private investigation firm in Vancouver called Big Joe Investigations.
    It was seven-thirty when Jack headed back to the workshop and felt Anton’s phone vibrate as he entered the building. The display number was different from the recall number he had used earlier. Paranoia setting in, Roche?
    Jack let the phone ring a few times as he walked to the back room, then answered. “Glad you can tell time,” he said.
    â€œYes, whoever you are, you asked me to call you for some reason,” said Roche.
    Jack noted the change in Roche’s voice, bordering on arrogance in a psychological bid to gain control. “For some reason?” replied Jack. “Are you suffering from Alzheimer’s? I have two reasons laid out before me that you should be interested in, but soon there’ll only be one.”
    Jack ignored whatever response Roche made as