The Cathari Treasure (Cameron Kincaid) by Daniel Arthur Smith Page A

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Glenda.  The tall man placed his hand on the shoulder of the man standing
next to him and whispered into his ear.  This one then looked to the
length of the room, passed the table where the four were sitting, and then back
to the tall man and nodded his head and began to walk toward the table.
    Cameron was sure something was
up.  He leaned into the table to casually slide a hand beneath so that he
could secure the P226 tucked into his waist.
    “Excuse me,” Cameron interrupted
Marie and Glenda, “this guy coming up behind you and his buddies at the door
don’t settle right with me.”
    Glenda did not turn toward the
door.  She looked passed Cameron to the bass player.  The player
acknowledged Glenda’s concern with a nod.  “It seems Tom agrees with you
Mister Kincaid,” said Glenda.
    As the young man approached the
table Cameron’s hand tightened on the P226 grips.  The young man walked
past without a glance down to the table or anyone sitting at its side.
    “He is going to the men’s WC,”
said Marie.
    At the edge of Cameron’s
peripheral he saw that was so.  Marie turned around to look at the two men
standing sentry at the front door.  “They are only waiting for their
friend,” said Marie. “They will be leaving soon.”
    Cameron wanted to believe
Marie.  Though the two at the door no longer scanned the room something
was still not right with them.  Cameron knew he was correct that they were
military, that was not what stuck out though.  What bothered Cameron was
the way they stood.  The music the Jazz trio played was infectious with a
solid backbeat and everyone in the club was bobbing their head, tapping their
fingers or feet, or all of the above.  Not the two at the door.  They
stood poised.  Only one other person in the club was still, set for
recoil, unaffected by the music, and that was Cameron himself.
    A moment later, the young man
exited the men’s room and walked back by the table as he had the first time,
without a glance to any of the four.  Cameron gripped the P226
firmly.  When the man got back to the front door where the other two were
waiting, all three left the club.
    Marie watched the door close
behind the last.  “You see,” said Marie, “only using the WC.”
    Cameron was still unsure about
the three and Glenda confirmed his suspicion, “They have been here before.”
    “That was a sweep,” said
Cameron.  “They were casing the room.  They’ll come back and when
they do they’ll mean business.”
    “Mister Kincaid is right. 
It will not be safe to leave through the front.  Come,” Glenda stood,
“follow me to the back.  You can leave that way.”
    The three
followed Glenda through a door behind the stage to a small musty back
room used for storage.  Cases of liquor lined one wall and a large metal
washtub with a mop set inside was on the other.  Cameron decided the musty
smell was coming from the mop.  At the back of the room was metal door.
    Glenda reached behind a box of
candles on a low shelf and brought out a black handbag.  She removed an
envelope, “Take this,” Glenda said to Marie.  “The Perfect is in
Toronto.  The address is here along with some cash.”
    Glenda took hold of Marie again
and the two held each other in another tight embrace.
    “When this is over I will be
back to see you, Mon ami,” said Marie.
    “It will be like the old days,”
said Glenda.  She then hugged Nicole, wished her well, and lastly turned
to Cameron and took his hand between both of hers.  “Please be safe Mister
Kincaid.  We all thank you for this.”
    Cameron did not know what to
say.  He had thought his journey over until a few moments before.  “I
will,” was all Cameron said.
    Glenda unlocked the metal door.
    “Au Revoir,” said Glenda, and
closed the door behind the three as they stepped out into the night.
     
    * * *
* *
     
     

Chapter 12
    Montreal
     
     
    “We should move quickly,” said
Cameron.  He led Marie and Nicole into