Science Fiction: Welcome to my Worlds

There was a long silence then, "You can't stop me from taking it."
"I'm sure you can fashion an excellent career around stealing from blind men." He heard her moving and it wasn't long before there was a thump on the carpeted floor in front of his feet. Curiosity, he knew, was a powerful force. It had certainly gotten him in trouble enough times. He reached out, his fingers encountering a rough canvas surface.

Isaac's mind lit as if by an exploding flashbulb, searing a scene into his consciousness. The painting was there. Not the work of an old master at all, he noted. But the rather ordinary pastoral scene depicted in the painting seemed unimportant as he noticed that the woman in the black jumpsuit was also there bleeding on the floor, and apparently dead. Two men stood over her: A short heavyset man, whose face seemed to be mostly eyebrows and pug nose, wiped off his knife. A younger aristocratic gentleman, appearance marred only by a red strawberry mark on his cheek, admired the painting while holding onto a crying boy.

His mind faded into its usual formless blankness as some of the things he'd seen clicked into place. "If you take this painting to the man with the strawberry mark on