Murder Takes the High Road(63)

“I see. It’s just...they’re so nice. So polite. I mean, they’re practically vegetarians.”

His brows shot up. “Yeah, you actually can’t go by what people eat when investigating crime.”

“No, of course not. But they seem like such good citizens. It’s kind of shocking. Although maybe not, when you consider what a high school teacher earns these days.”

John ignored all that. “I work for Birch Specialty Insurance Company. We primarily insure art collections and museums.”

“I see,” I said. And I did. My heart sank. “The good news is you’re not an insomniac. The bad news is you’re leaving the tour.”

He nodded. “Sorry. Yes.”

“Damn.” I didn’t know what else to say. Not that I didn’t have questions, but John leaving the tour seemed to trump everything else. He’d warned it might be a possibility, but somehow I had assumed he meant a day or two before the tour ended. Not in the next twenty-four hours. Not in the middle of our getting to know each other.

“A couple of days ago I was assigned to coordinate with our UK branch. Our goal—my goal—was to finally catch the Scherf-Rice gang red-handed. Meaning with the stolen goods in their possession.”

“Right.”

“This is their third trip to the UK in the past six years. Each time they’ve joined small specialty tours like this one with itineraries off the beaten track. And each time a local, not well-secured gallery or museum in their vicinity gets hit.”

There was obviously more to it than that. I nodded at his suitcase. Part of a blue shirt sleeve peeped out from under the closed lid. “Then you’ve finally got your proof?”

John shook his head. “Er... No. Not yet. We believe they tried to rob the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum the night before I arrived, but were foiled in the attempt. I’m pretty sure they were planning to try their luck with the Inverness Museum and Art Gallery, but unfortunately we have a legal obligation to warn the targets ahead of time, and each time the prospective victim has implemented security measures to foil the robbery.”

That seemed like a reasonable move to me, but John sounded disgruntled. I thought I understood why.

“Wait. So, you don’t actually have proof they managed to pull off a heist?”

“No. But they’re on the move again. I can’t let them slip away.”

I said cautiously, “Maybe they’re on to you. Maybe they’re heading home.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Actually...”

“They suspect, obviously, but I’ve made sure not to leave anything that would give me away in our room.”

I opened my mouth then closed it. But I couldn’t leave it like that. “I see. You don’t think maybe they’ve noticed you listening in on their conversations and waiting outside their rooms at night and following them everywhere? Like when you drove after them in Strathpeffer?”

He looked momentarily chagrined. “No. I admit I lost them in Inverness, but that was pilot error, not maneuvering on their part.”

“Right.” I said delicately, “The thing is, I couldn’t help noticing at dinner that they were watching you pretty closely.”

He looked stern. “Yeah. Which is why I can’t lose them now.”

I nodded, although I wasn’t sure I followed his reasoning. “Do you think it was Nelson Scherf or Joel Rice searching our room that night?”

“Not sure yet. One of them.”

“But even after they broke into our room, you still don’t think they’re on to you?”

He brushed over that. “We think we’ve successfully verified that no museum or gallery was robbed, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t hit a private collection. They may have taken something from Vanessa, for all I know.”

“Is that their MO? I mean, aren’t they more organized than that? If they’ve been hitting museums—”

“They’re good at improvisation.”

The whole museum heist thing sounded pretty sophisticated for a group of high school teachers, but the dine and dash sounded even less likely.

“Sure. But if your company isn’t on the hook—”

“We still need to connect them to two robberies we are on the hook for.”

“True. Of course.”

After all, this was John’s area of expertise. He surely must know his quarry. Certainly, fleeing the island looked pretty guilty.

Meeting my doubtful gaze, he said, “I’ve been downstairs listening outside their rooms. They’re packing right now, which means they’re about to leave this island.”

“How are they going to do that?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t been able to verify. I’m guessing they’ve chartered a boat. That’s going to attract the least attention.” He added with dark humor, “If they’ve hired a helicopter, the friendly skies might get less friendly—not to mention crowded.”

“You’re flying out tonight?” I glanced at the twin windows and the pitch-black night beyond.

He checked his watch. “ETD forty minutes. Give or take.”

“Ah.” I admired his confidence. And his determination. Also his expense account. I could see a lot of potential for miscalculation, but presumably that was because I looked at things like a budget-conscious librarian and not an intrepid insurance investigator. I was dismayed at how much I didn’t want him to go. I took a deep breath and shoved the blankets back. “Okay. Well. How about if I go with you—just to see you off?”