“Consider it done.” Mentally, Derek was already running through the best scenario to get Rich what he needed ASAP. “As soon as I have something, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Rich was clearly relieved that Derek understood they were racing the clock. “And if the Black Eagles get word they’re on our radar, all the better. It might make them nervous enough to reconsider whatever they’ve planned next, giving us more time to find them.”
“I hear you.” Derek cleared his throat. “You mentioned having information for me?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Abruptly, Rich changed focus. “With regard to the Rothberg, some additional facts have surfaced on the Dutch collector whose family consigned it to Sotheby’s. Evidently, he wasn’t as squeaky clean as we thought. Seems he did business with some shady art dealers and collectors. I should have specific details after the weekend.”
“That’s good news,” Derek replied. “Every step we take in retracing the sale of Dead or Alive is a step closer to filling in the blanks on Burbank’s art investment group. I have a bad taste in my mouth about these guys.”
“You got more background info?”
“Yeah. And none of it’s good.” Derek shuffled a bunch of papers around on his desk. “Ben Martino’s an alcoholic whose business is in the toilet. Phil Leary is a compulsive gambler who owes his bookie a mint. Wallace Johnson invested most of his money in his art galleries and, before that, in high-priced PIs, trying to find out who the hit-and-run driver was who killed his daughter. The rest of his hefty bank account went to his ex-wife in their divorce. So he’s in rocky financial shape, too. Leo Fox is a different story. He had a fiancée who dumped him at the altar. Now, he’s all business—and, boy, is it booming. He has dozens of rich clients, and puts in twelve-hour days to meet their needs. Interesting how he had the time to drop everything on a dime and rush over to Sloane’s cottage to get started on our redecoration project.”
“He was itching to dig around and see what you knew.”
“Oh, yeah. He couldn’t wait to start asking questions as we toured the cottage for its makeover. He was chomping at the bit to continue the minute Sloane left. He was probably thrilled that she got called away. Then, she blew a hole in his plan, since she figured out that you and I had set her up so you could talk to her father without her being there. She assumed part of our setup included leaving me alone with Fox so I could pump him after she took off. So she warned me not to—in earshot of Fox. After that, he didn’t dare arouse my suspicions by pushing his agenda.”
“Sorry about that.” Rich grimaced. “Not only did I screw up any chance you had of getting something out of Fox, I pushed Sloane’s buttons. She must have ripped your head off.”
“That’s par for the course.” Derek gave a faint smile. “Love hard, fight hard—that’s Sloane’s and my motto. As for Leo Fox, you’ll get more out of him than I would have. Especially now.”
“You mean because of what happened to Rosalyn Burbank?”
“I’m sure that scared the hell out of him and the rest of his partners, making them a lot more vulnerable to your interviewing techniques. But that’s not what I was referring to. Get this. You know that hefty income Fox is making? You’ll never guess where some of it’s going.?
??
“I give up.”
“To his buddies. He paid off a bunch of Phil Leary’s gambling debts, including a big one just yesterday. He’s also helped out Wallace Johnson with financial backing for his galleries. Oh, and he went with Martino to most of his AA meetings, during the years Martino was off the booze.”
“What a philanthropic guy,” Rich commented drily. “And what a walking encyclopedia of dirty laundry. Seems he has the inside scoop on all his friends.”
“Uh-huh. Which means he’s either an extraordinary friend, or a shrewd SOB who collects smut on his buddies to store away for future use.”
“Or maybe present use.”
“Exactly. So, as you can see, you’ve got lots of juicy stuff to probe when you call each of these guys in.”
“That’s an understatement.” Rich’s lips curved in mock amusement. “It’s beginning to sound like Burbank’s the cleanest of the bunch.”
“Ironically, yeah.” Derek put aside the papers and folded his hands in front of him. “There’s something else.” Briefly, he filled Rich in on what had happened to Sloane last night.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Rich reacted with startled concern. “Is she all right?”
“Thankfully, yes. The slash on her forearm was bad. It took me forever to stop the bleeding. And when she kept passing out, I started to panic. But the ER doctor stitched her up, put her on antibiotics and heavy-duty painkillers, and assured her there was no major damage. That calmed her down. She was pretty shaken up, considering the Red Dragon kid was going for her bad hand. So, all things considered, she’s doing okay. I can’t say the same for her attacker. She kicked the crap out of him. I doubt he’ll be getting out of bed—or off the floor—any time soon.”
“Remind me never to piss off your girlfriend.”
“That’s a tall order,” Derek returned drily. “Considering I piss her off every day.”
“So now Xiao’s decided to get at Burbank by going after Sloane.”
“Before yesterday? Maybe. But at this point? Without a doubt. Sloane made sure to give him a compelling incentive.” Derek told Rich how Sloane had baited her attacker.
Rich whistled. “You’ve got to admit, the woman has balls.”
“Yeah, and brains, too.” Derek went on to tell Rich what Sloane had alluded to last night and then relayed to him this morning—the details of her conversations with the other victims who’d been burglarized by the Red Dragons. “It seems that all of them had at least one high-profile painting stolen. Some of them had two. And they all had a couple of commonplace paintings taken as well. It’s as if Xiao’s guys were trying to hide the fact that the valuable paintings were what they were after. That theory holds even more water when you read over the lists of stolen items on the police reports, do the math, and figure out that the paintings were worth more than the jewelry and electronics combined.”