Kevin loved the type of people who openly boasted and patted themselves on the back about their clever deals. It helped him take advantage several times in the past.
Many people underestimated his intelligence but the main thing that ensured Kevin was able to take advantage, was because he didn’t care what he had to do to get his hands on their cash. If it meant some harm came to them that only added to his pleasure.
He heard enough to piece things together. The older man had purchased a painting from someone elderly, probably an old dear living on her own with the onset of dementia. It was a situation Kevin had used several times in the past. His impression was that Peter had paid the lady a pittance and got her to sign a receipt to ensure everything was watertight. The painting was worth a lot of money. And from what the man was boasting about, it wasn’t the first time he had found such a painting. If he was driving a Bentley, Kevin knew the amount involved was not peanuts.
He also knew from what he had overheard of the conversation that the dealer was keeping the painting in his hotel room, which indicated he wasn’t local.
The only things Kevin hadn’t been able to discover were which hotel he was staying at, and how long he was staying.
But he knew a way to find out. All it would take was a phone call.
Kevin got up from the table and slowly walked outside. He dialled a number in his phone. When it was answered, he instructed the person on the receiving end to drive to the car park and wait for two men to return to the Bentley and discreetly follow them to their hotel and then beat them to reception, hang around and find out which room key they asked for.
With that done, Kevin walked back inside.
Twenty minutes later, while Kevin and his two sons were tucking into their main course, the two men from the nearby table left the restaurant hand in hand.
Kevin didn’t even look up. He knew his instructions would be carried out to the letter because the person carrying them out didn’t want to end up with their legs broken, or even worse!
Thirty-five minutes later his phone rang.
“Kevin, it’s Vinny. I followed the Bentley liked you asked. They drove to the Albion Hotel and I heard the guy ask at reception for the key to the Trinity Suite.”
“Good work Vinny. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay Kevin. Bye.”
An hour later, exactly at the same time as the black 4x4 slipped into the triple-sized garage of the large property set back on Fen Road, Stavros Kappas was examining the nine twenty-pound notes in his till, realising he couldn’t pay them into his bank. The young waitress wasn’t to know they were fakes. The main thing that made him suspicious was the feel of the notes. Then, under closer examination it became more obvious.
They were certainly the best forgeries he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure if he would report it to the police or maybe he could pass them on one-at-a-time when he went shopping at Tesco’s.
Chapter Thirteen
KEVIN O’CONNOR
Since the previous evening in the restaurant, Kevin O’Connor had been busy planning how to steal the valuable painting he had overheard the man with the Bentley boasting about. He was in no doubt the man was a conman and had duped some poor old dear out of the painting for a fraction of its real value. Kevin loved the idea of cheating a cheater.
From what he had overheard he reckoned the painting was worth at least £250,000. If you knew the right people you could get twenty-five percent of the value on stolen works of art. Kevin certainly knew the right people. So he would collect around £60,000 for less than a day’s work. Sweet! For that kind of money he would be prepared to go to any length. In the past he had killed for less. Much less!
It shouldn’t come to that. This should be easy. After all, he had a contact at the Albion Hotel where the antique dealer was staying.
Kevin O’Connor’s schedule for the next few days was pretty hectic. He had a drugs shipment coming in and needed to spend time making arrangements. However, he was sure he could find the time.
Now all he had to do was work out how to get into the Trinity Suite. And by a happy coincidence, he knew someone on the inside at the Albion Hotel.
The main chef, Wayne Hurst, was a gambling man and owed nearly two grand to a local associate of Kevin’s. With a little arm-twisting the chef might be persuaded to offer some insider assistance.
Kevin knew the best time to get into the room and steal the painting would be the evening when most people went out to eat. Between eight and ten pm. was a good time. Or maybe make it look like a burglary in the middle of the night. Most people are in a deep sleep for around thirty to thirty-five percent of the night. Many burglars do their ‘work’ between midnight and three a.m. Even with his talents, the difficult bit was going to be picking the hotel room lock. Maybe the chef could get a master key for him?
Kevin was aware most hotels used electronic door locks with entry gained by a magnetic key card. And he knew hotels had master keys that gave you access to every room. They would obviously be well protected but
