Blue Smoke and Murder

73

SEPTEMBER 17

1:04 A.M.

Score listened to the bug on Jill Breck’s sat phone and laughed out loud. St. Kilda didn’t like being fired.

“Listen, Joe,” the Breck woman said for the third time. “This just isn’t working. You’re spending all kinds of money and not getting anywhere. I want the paintings back as soon as possible. And it better be possible by tomorrow morning.”

“Going off alone at this stage isn’t smart,” Faroe said.

“And staying with St. Kilda is dumb. My paintings. My choice.”

Silence, then a sigh. “Whatever you say, Ms. Breck. When you sign off on the paintings tomorrow morning, your relationship with St. Kilda is at an end.”

“Good. And don’t bother calling me, hoping to change my mind. I’m going downstairs to try my luck at the tables.”

The connection ended.

Smiling, Score leaned back in his chair and mentally reviewed the players and their positions on the chessboard of the op. He loved an op like this. Any mope with a gun could kill someone, but it was the mental game that separated the players from the wannabes.

Score was a player.

Now that St. Kilda was off the board, arranging the downfall of the clever Ms. Breck would be a pure pleasure.