by Adam Maxwell
The Dali Deception
A Kilchester Caper
Adam Maxwell
The Lost Book Emporium
Contents
18th September
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
20th August
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
3rd September
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
5th September
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
12th September
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
14th September
Chapter 19
19th September
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
22nd September
Chapter 27
23rd September
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
24th September
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
25th September
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
26th September
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
2 weeks later
Chapter 47
Acknowledgments
18th September
* * *
Almost 3 weeks to go…
Chapter 1
Violet Winters pretended not to look at the security guard leaving the Kilchester Metropolitan Museum and Art Gallery. Even in the early evening, the sweeping steps of the gallery were teeming with people finishing their working days. People going home, arriving to attend a concert, to go to restaurants. The life blood of the city getting right in the bloody way.
Violet peeled a five pound note from her pocket and handed it to the Big Issue seller who sat at the foot of one of the ornate columns. The young lad took the note Violet offered and began rummaging in his pockets. Violet’s hair was dark, almost black, and cut into a long bob that almost touched her shoulders as she shook her head. “Keep the change,” she said, looking over the shoulder of the kid. “In fact, you can keep the magazine too. I’ve already got that one anyway.”
The Art Gallery towered behind them, refusing to allow anyone, least of all Violet, to ignore it for long.
“What happened to the woman who used to sleep here?” asked Violet.
The kid shrugged. “I been here a year. Maybe a bit more. She died, I heard.”
“I used to see her a lot,” said Violet. “She was pretty young. Well, not young-young but, you know, not old enough to die…” She trailed off.
“Happens,” the kid said. “Living on the streets.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Asked Violet.
The kid shrugged again but held a little tighter onto the fiver in his hand.
Violet, leaning in a little closer. The kid smelled cleaner than she expected. “Can you see someone down the street?”
The kid frowned. “What sort of someone? You being followed?”
Violet nodded. “Perhaps. This someone would be taller than everyone else.”
The kid nodded slowly. “Yeah, I see someone. Over down by the newsagent. Brown hair, tied in a pony tail?”
Violet nodded.
“You shouldn’t encourage them, Miss,” a man in a crisp, inky-blue uniform said.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Violet turned to face him, weighing him up as she spoke. “Three pay cheques and it could be any of us.”
The security guard shrugged, his mouth turned down at the corners. “I suppose,” he said and started to walk away.
Violet moved off too, then changed direction and gently bumped into the security guard.
“I’m sorry,” she said, glancing at her shoes.
The security guard smiled and side-stepped, moving on his way.
Violet glanced behind her again. She adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder as it became tangled with the strap from the tubular courier bag she also carried. The tall figure was gaining so she moved faster, swimming through the crowd until she ducked down the alley that ran down the side of the museum. Out of the crowds her heartbeat quickened. The only footsteps echoing between the museum and its neighbour were her own, until the unmistakable sound of a second set joined. How far? Forty metres? Twenty?
Halfway down the side of the museum was a second, smaller alley. It was no longer used by the museum and the rubbish lay in piles, blown there by the wind. This was where she was comfortable. Out of the crowds, in her element. Violet reached into her bag and took out a small, leather make-up case and a hairbrush. As she lifted the bag up she noticed how battered it had become. It was probably time to get a new one, but this one had served her so well.
The owner of the pursuing footsteps came around the corner but stepped carefully to remain in the shadows. This was quite an achievement given that the figure was around six feet ten inches tall.
“So you got my message then?” Violet said, fiddling with the leather cord that held the make-up bag closed. She placed the bag on top of a large bin and carefully put the hairbrush next to it. Gently unrolling the material, revealed three panels, each containing a variety of the tools of her trade.
The figure nodded but said nothing.
Violet took the tubular courier bag from her shoulder and pulled it over her head, letting it fall diagonally across her body.
Still the figure remained silent.
Violet rattled the handle of the door she stood in front of but it didn’t open. She laughed a slightly manic laugh and reached over, taking the hairbrush once more and beginning to pick at it, feeling between the bristles. “Well I guess this is it then.”
Another nod and... was that a smile?
“Right,” Violet said. And then that laugh again. Like a staccato Syd James. “Before we do this... come here...” and darting forward, heading straight for the figure, then picking up speed, running now, until she was just a couple of steps in front of the figure and launching herself into the air.
Violet leaped forward and caused the figure to stagger backwards as she landed with her arms wrapped around their shoulders and legs hooked onto their hips.
“Did you miss me then Katie?” Violet grinned then planted a kiss on the cheek of the giantess.
Katie hadn’t changed but whenever they went any time without seeing one another, Violet tended to forget how incredibly tall she was. And she was. Really, really tall, but not in a large and lumbering way. She had a grace that belied her height and, if you could see them up there, her features were fine, with a thin, straight nose pointing to lipstick-free lips. She smiled, and her hand, which was bigger than Violet’s head, instinctively darted up to cover her smiling mouth. A silent laugh escaped instead as two little puffs of air from her nose. Violet let go and dropped to the ground and Katie, seeming intent on exaggerating the effect of the childish behaviour of her friend, reached down and ruffled Violet’s hair with her hand.
“Now keep an eye out, will you?” Violet said, an urgency creeping in to her tone and a seriousness to her expression. Katie nodded and strode to the edge of the alley, watching for anyone who might spot them, and Violet went
back over to her make-up bag.
“Okaaaaaaay,” she said under her breath. “Let’s do this shit then, shall we?” She glanced up at the door once more. There were two locks: a regular lock that had probably come fitted on the door and another newer deadbolt. For extra security.
Violet ran her hand over the tools in the first two panels of her make-up bag, her fingers skimming over the light metal of the lock picks and tension tools until they reached the third panel. The bump keys. She stared at them for a moment then slid one out, squeezed it into her palm, the sharp, metal points digging in ever so slightly. In her other hand she took the hairbrush.
Checking that Katie was still on guard, Violet moved to the door and slid the bump key into the first lock. She felt the butterflies of excitement rising in her stomach and took a breath. She needed this. Being away from Kilchester had been irritating, but being away from the life had been excruciating. She turned the bump key just enough to put pressure on the mechanism, then gave it a whack with the hairbrush. In one smooth motion, the bump key turned the rest of the way and the lock was open.
Violet smiled and glanced back to her friend. Katie nodded at Violet, who turned back to the second lock.
Another deep breath and then the key slid into the deadbolt. She tested it with her fingers, found what she judged to be the right amount of pressure then
Whack
The sound of the plastic on the metal echoed around the alleyway but the lock didn’t give. Violet pictured the inside of the lock – the pins that stopped it from opening were not quite catching. She changed her grip on the bump key; the pressure exerted was minuscule but she altered it ever so slightly and
Whack
She felt the mechanism become lighter: two, maybe three of the pin stacks had caught; just one more
Whack
And the lock gave. Violet turned the bump key and, once she was sure no-one was directly inside, made a click-click-click noise with her mouth. Katie recognised the signal and followed quickly, moving like a shadow down the length of the alley as Violet gathered together the remainder of her kit. With one final glance to ensure they had remained unobserved, the two of them stepped inside and silently closed the door.
Chapter 2
“Thanks for coming,” Violet said, putting her hand on Katie’s upper arm. Katie raised an eyebrow and let the corners of her mouth twist upwards just a little. Violet gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. “Bloody hell, Katie! Have you moved into the gym?”
Katie rolled her eyes and started down the corridor. The scuffed, grey linoleum was almost worn through in places. The strip lights flickered, moving the shadows of the peeling paint and giving the walls the impression of having scales. Here in the bowels of the museum things were very different from the exhibition spaces the public swarmed around.
“Anyway,” Violet continued, padding slowly down the corridor. “Enough about you. I suppose you’ll want to know about me?”
There was a noise somewhere ahead of them and the pair froze, staring into the strip-lit distance.
Violet counted to sixty in her head and, when no other noise came, began to walk again. A little slower than before.
“You heard what happened, I take it?” Violet whispered.
Katie held up her thumb and forefinger a small distance apart.
“Percy Parkin. The prick.” Violet gritted her teeth as she spat his name.
The two women reached a door. Katie instinctively positioned herself with her back to the opposite wall and kept lookout. Violet placed her palm on the door and pushed. The door swung open and she proceeded, her eyes flashing around the stairwell beyond, comparing what she saw with the blueprints she had studied, replacing in her mind the lines of the drawing with the solidity of peeling, damp walls.
She waited, but there was no-one in the stairwell. Not at this time of day. The only thing in there was the smell of the damp. And the two of them. She beckoned to Katie, who moved silently to her side.
“We were inside. So close to getting the goods,” Violet shook her head at the memory as if the act of doing this might dislodge it and send it crashing down the stairs. When nothing happened she began to climb. “I started to get a bad feeling about it. But you can’t just say ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this’ can you?”
Violet glanced back at Katie, who raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Well, okay,” Violet conceded. “Maybe you can if you’re Han Solo but normal people who aren’t, you know, in movies...”
Katie packed away her smirk. Almost.
“But a bad feeling I had. So I told Jenny, who was dealing with the alarm system, I told her to go and double check. For my peace of mind, I told her. And she complained, dented her pride a bit I think. But I thought she could warn us.”
After four flights of stairs, Violet had to catch her breath. She paused on a landing and watched Katie silently loping after her.
“How come you aren’t out of breath then?” Violet asked. Katie ignored her and picked up the pace; her long, long legs taking the next set of stairs three then four stairs at a time, turning the corner and moving faster and faster until she was out of sight.
“I hate fit people,” Violet muttered, a wheezing, tiny tortoise to Katie’s six feet ten inch hare.
Violet reached the penultimate floor and, still panting, pushed open the door to find Katie sitting on a chair on the other side.
“All clear?” asked Violet.
Katie nodded, that smirk back on her face. She reached into a pocket of the black cargo pants she wore and pulled out a bottle of water, which she tossed to Violet.
Violet caught it and unscrewed the lid. Katie stood up and, with a flourish, twirled the chair around herself and behind Violet. She gave a gentle shove, and Violet toppled into a sitting position.
Violet took a gulp of water. “I’d forgotten how irritating you can be when you get yourself in gear,” she said.
Katie smiled sweetly.
Violet stood up. It was time for some payback.
“This way?” she asked, and gestured towards a corridor. Katie followed the gesture and, as she did so, Violet started sprinting in the other direction. The second Katie realised, she bolted after her, the two of them hurling themselves down the length of the corridor until they skidded to a halt, grinning like idiots, a couple of hundred metres further along.
Violet opened her mouth to start speaking again but Katie placed her hand over it. Katie’s hand, like the rest of Katie, was very large indeed and wrapped around most of Violet’s face. To ensure Violet could still breathe Katie placed her index finger on the bridge of Violet’s nose and her three remaining fingers under her nose. Experience had taught Katie this would prevent the embarrassing moment when you accidentally suffocated the person you were trying to subdue. One oversight, one time, that requires ten seconds of mouth-to-mouth and you have yourself a reputation as heavy handed...
With the sound of approaching footsteps beginning to echo louder, the pair froze. Fun though it was to catch up and to lark around, in this situation Violet knew when to talk and when to shut the hell up.
They waited, the sound of their breathing suddenly drowned out by the sound of shoes tap-tapping down a nearby corridor.
Katie glanced over her shoulder and, noting the room number, shoved open the door. With her hand still clamped firmly over Violet’s mouth, Katie stepped backwards, moving into the room and dragging her companion with her.
Violet made a quiet mmmph noise.
It had a questioning tone to it which Katie chose to ignore. The footsteps were getting closer.
Violet opened her mouth and licked the palm of Katie’s hand.
Katie recoiled, her hand flying free of Violet’s face, and that laugh again, two little puffs of air from her nose. Her hand instinctively went up to cover her mouth but she realised before it was too late. Reaching out, Katie wiped saliva on the shoulder of Violet’s black motorbike jacket.
The footsteps began t
o recede into the distance.
“This is the place then?” Violet asked, knowing the answer to the question.
A seriousness descended on the room like a fat man sitting on a beanbag.
Katie nodded. It was time for them to get to work.
Chapter 3
The small ante-corridor they found themselves in was large enough to accommodate three people standing shoulder to shoulder. It was, therefore, something of a squash when Katie began to do some impromptu stretching.
“You’re bored, aren’t you?” asked Violet.
Katie raised her hand to her mouth and pretended to yawn.
Violet dropped to her knees in front of the door and unfurled her make-up bag. Quietly clicking her tongue against her teeth, she glanced between the door’s lock and her tools. A second later she’d made her decision and plucked the tension wrench from the bag. Like the pick she held in her right hand, it was a tiny, delicate thing.
They weighed nothing in her hand, but she rubbed them with the tips of her fingers and thumbs. A reverential gesture before inserting them into the barrel of the lock and beginning to feel her way around.
Katie sighed and rolled her head from side to side, causing her neck to click. Violet’s eyes flicked towards her and she fixed a stare on her companion.
“It’s a weird one,” Violet said, trying to construct a mental picture of what the tools were telling her about the lock’s insides. “This could take a while.”
Katie’s shoulders fell and she let out another sigh for good measure.
“So do you want to hear the rest of this story or not?” Violet asked.
Katie shrugged one shoulder as she nodded her head.
