hesitated, pretending to consider the offer.
“I can assure you that you will be well paid,” Roche said.
“Well paid?”
“Contingent upon your meeting with the Ringmaster for final approval.”
“I see.”
“Are you interested?” Roche prodded him.
“Yes, it sounds like it could be beneficial.”
Kerin was told that he would only meet the Ringmaster face to face once. After that, all communication would be made through Roche. Subsequent arrangements were made for Roche to meet Kerin today at a café, where he’d introduce the Ringmaster.
It was deemed unlikely that the Ringmaster would say anything to Kerin about the murders during the meeting, but identifying the Ringmaster would be a big step forward in the investigation. Once that was done, physical and electronic surveillance could be utilized, along with whatever other police investigative means were needed.
* * *
Kerin was pleased when he saw Roche parking his black Peugeot in front of the café, and a moment later greeted him when he walked inside. Roche declined to sit down and told Kerin that they would walk to another location to meet the Ringmaster.
A half-hour stroll later, they came to a park. During the stroll, Kerin had caught the occasional glimpse of his long-time partner, Maurice Leblanc, who followed on the sidewalk across the street.
Maurice was a tall, slender man with a black Fu Manchu moustache that grew to the bottom of his jaw. Kerin grinned to himself when he imagined that moustache twitching as it always did when Maurice was worried. It’s okay, Maurice, the meeting is still on.
Kerin caught the odd glimpse of other colleagues. They had divided up their eight-person surveillance team, leaving drivers in four cars while the others followed on foot. Two of the team members who’d been in the café switched back to their cars.
Once at the park, Roche received a call. After hanging up, he said, “The Ringmaster is coming, but is nervous about meeting you. I need you to answer a question.”
Kerin frowned. “What?”
“We can walk around the park as we talk,” Roche suggested.
Kerin fell in step with Roche. and waited for him to speak. Finally, Roche asked, “Where do you come up with your stolen property?”
Kerin stopped and faced Roche. “Jesus! You’re asking me about that again? I told you about one of the heists in advance!” In reality, the heist was not genuine but a ruse to gain Roche’s trust. A co-operative jeweller had agreed to say he was robbed and the police had released a fake news release.
Roche gave a sympathetic smile. “Do not be angry with me, my friend. I trust you completely — otherwise you would not be here. That was simply a question I was told to put to you. The Ringmaster will be along shortly. Please be patient.”
Kerin nodded, unaware that the Ringmaster was already watching with binoculars. Every look and gesture Kerin made was being closely scrutinized.
Chapter Three
In the hotel room in Vancouver, Brandy sat up after Klaus had flung her onto the bed. She did her best to smile at Liam. “You know, seeing as it is your stag, maybe I could help you fulfill your fantasy of having three girls at once.”
Liam looked up from a Scotch he was pouring. “Really?”
“I know two other girls. They’re really pretty … classy-looking. What d’you say I give them a call and get this party really rocking?”
Liam looked at Klaus and Clive. “That’s a great idea!”
Klaus was skeptical. “Why are you offering to do this?” he asked. “What is it you really —”
“You guys have worn me out,” Brandy said. “Two extra girls will give me a break and it will be better for everyone.” She shrugged. “If you don’t like the looks of them, you don’t have to let ’em in.”
Klaus looked at Brandy suspiciously. “I’m not sure if —”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brandy continued. “It will cost a little more, but I’m sure cash or blow isn’t a problem for you guys.” She gave a nod toward Liam. “Let’s make his night really special.” It’s not like you plan on paying, anyway.
“Yeah, Klausie,” Liam slurred. “Like she says, it’s my night. Come on, it’ll be a blast!”
Klaus thought for a moment, then bent over so he was nose to nose with Brandy. “Okay, give them a call … but if things don’t turn out good, I’ll break your fucking neck and haul you out in a suitcase. You got that?”
I believe you. I’ve seen Pulp Fiction like ten times. I know people do stuff —
“I said you got that?” Klaus demanded again.
Brandy nodded, then went and picked up her purse. When she found the slip of paper, Klaus grabbed it from her and looked at the number, then used her phone and dialled it himself.
Brandy swallowed nervously. “Ask for Jackie.”
She was relieved when Klaus handed her the phone and said, “It’s ringing. You talk to her.”
She did her best to give Klaus a reassuring smile as she sat in a chair and held the phone tight to her ear.
* * *
It was one-thirty in the morning when Corporal Jack Taggart grabbed the phone on the bedside table before it started the second ring. It was a common occurrence and he reacted quickly, hoping not to disturb his wife. It did, but Natasha was used to the calls and started to doze off again.
Jack was an undercover police operative who worked on an intelligence unit with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Vancouver. Along with his partner, Constable Laura Secord, they were like a constant open sore on the side of established organized crime families. For crime families that were not as well established, the sore was often fatal.
Undercover operations were only one of the tools they used in their battle against organized crime. Wiretaps were also used, but their most important tool was informants. To protect their own identities and those of their informants, undercover operators on the intelligence unit seldom went to court. It was up to their discretion if what they learned would be turned over to other units to further the investigation for court purposes.
Jack had an exceptional ability to gain the trust of informants. It was a trust that was well deserved. He protected his informants like a mother bear with her cubs.
“Jackie, it … it’s me … Brandy.”
Jackie? Jack heard the strain in her voice and knew she was in trouble. “I told you not to call me direct when you want to speak to Jackie,” Jack said, while turning on the bedside light and prodding Natasha with his foot. “Besides, I hate phones. You never know who could be listening.” He
