Ill-Gotten Games Read Online Free Page A

in an empty hearing room vacated for lunch, where Baskin plopped down into a chair and munched happily on the cupcake.
    Drayco asked, “Do you still have a copy of the murdered guard’s photo in your briefcase?”
    Baskin didn’t stop munching, but opened the case with his free hand and flipped out a print, which he slid over. Drayco pulled out the photocopy of the picture he’d gotten from the laundromat earlier and compared the two. Baskin licked his fingers and then put that same hand on Drayco’s shoulder. Drayco pointed to a man, a ringer for the deceased guard, then over to the man standing next him.
    Baskin said, “Truitt? He’d be the right age, wouldn’t he?”
    Drayco nodded. “Which means if Truitt’s our murderer, he recognized Underwood before he killed him.”
    “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why do you not look happy?”
    “I don’t believe in random coincidences. What if Truitt knew Underwood was going to be on this gig all along?”
    “But the guard schedules change frequently to prevent security breaches.”
    “An informant inside the art relocation company, perhaps.”
    Baskin’s eyes turned to daggers. “Do NOT tell me you think my client is guilty, after all!”
    Drayco grinned. Baiting Baskin was one of his favorite sports. “I don’t know Benny, maybe, maybe not.”
    Baskin placed his hands on his hips and glared at Drayco, who gave in.
    “I think your client’s on the up-and-up. But I’m not ready to absolve Material Artserve Enterprises completely. Is it okay if I take the photo?”
    Slightly mollified, Baskin nodded. “You say Truitt’s been in touch with you. For real?”
    “I guess he likes me.” Drayco looked at his watch. “It won’t be long before he calls again.”
    “Where are you off to next?”
    “To see my informant, Manny. I think he left out one crucial detail.”
    Baskin wrinkled his brow. “That crook? Just be careful, kid. I’d hate to find a new investigator when I’ve got you broken in.”
    “If I see Truitt, I’ll make sure he sends along a signed excuse for keeping me out of class today.”
    Baskin waved toward the door. “Shoo. I’ve got some calls to make, and I don’t need a scruffy mongrel like you getting underfoot.”
    Drayco pulled out his cell phone and dialed Manny’s number, fingers crossed in hopes he’d be available. Fortunately, Manny’s money-laundering business gave him flexible hours, so he agreed to meet Drayco in the usual place.
    Drayco worked with many informants and criminals, most of them in back alleys, bars, and other venues straight out of a stock Hollywood set. But Manny Sapp’s favorite meeting spot was unusual. Not that Drayco minded. He liked the Greek revival building that housed the National Portrait Gallery, especially the glass-canopy courtyard with the water floor you could walk on.
    Wednesdays at one o’clock in January meant very few visitors at the museum, although it wouldn’t have been hard to spot his target’s shiny bald pate. That, and the metal hook for an arm. Drayco made a beeline for their meeting place, Gilbert Stuart’s famous portrait of George Washington.
    Sapp didn’t take his eyes off the painting. “Stuart here is one of the most prolific and beloved painters of this great country, with over one thousand portraits in his lifetime. Yet I’ll bet not one percent of Americans have any idea who he is, even though they see his work every day on the one-dollar bill.”
    Drayco moved next to Sapp and gazed at the full-length painting. “You’re particularly fond of this one.”
    “Washington was the first and greatest Commander in Chief. So, yeah, you might say I’ve got a soft spot.”
    Drayco pulled the photocopy from the laundromat out of his pocket. “Since you’re so fond of pictures…”
    Sapp didn’t take it from him, just glanced at it. “I’m surprised Truitt kept that.”
    “Truitt looks a lot younger, whereas Underwood, our murdered guard,” Drayco pointed to the