by Adam Maxwell
“Exactly like a placeholder,” said Lucas. “Now put them on.”
Zoe raised an eyebrow and Lucas turned around to face the wall. Zoe examined the wall in front of him for reflective surfaces and then began to remove her clothes.
“So, there’s a reason I want to be a placeholder and not a person today then?” asked Zoe as she pulled on the baggy jeans.
“Certainly there is,” replied Lucas. “If the banker ever realises that the painting has been stolen.”
“You mean if we fail,” said Zoe.
Lucas nodded and stared at his feet, bored of looking at the wall.
“Eyes front, soldier,” Zoe snapped, pulling a black vest over her head. Lucas’ head shot back upright.
“Sorry, I wasn’t...” Lucas mumbled. “But yeah that’s what I meant. If the police get involved the first person they’re going to look at is the art student who happened to come and look at the painting a few weeks before it was stolen. And when they look into the student...”
“Point taken,” said Zoe. “They find the student doesn’t exist, so they get a description from whoever I’m seen by today. You can turn around.”
Lucas turned. “Good start,” he said. “Trainers are a nice touch.”
Zoe did a little curtsey, dipping her right leg slightly to show off the two-inch platform soles. “I’m a quick learner,” she said.
“Yes, you are,” said Lucas. “Now we need false tan, a beauty spot, big eye make-up, blond wig and glasses.”
“Glasses?”
“Glasses.”
“Sweet,” said Zoe. “I’ve got some that look like Ray-Bans but they’ve got a camera in them.”
“Like James Bond and shit,” grinned Lucas.
“Jane Bond,” replied Zoe, pulling the blonde wig over her head and tucking some of her own stray brown hairs inside. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? Having your very own dolly to dress up.”
“Honestly?” Lucas wandered over to a pile of computers and wires Zoe had brought with her. “I really am. As a man I’m much more limited as to what I can do before I start to look like...”
“A cross dresser?” Zoe suggested.
“Although would that be so bad?” said Lucas, picking up a dress from the pile.
“You’d make a beautiful princess.” Zoe laughed, picking up a make-up bag and wandering off toward the bathroom.
Lucas put down the dress and watched her leave. Zoe reached the door and turned around. “Well,” she said. “Are you coming?”
Lucas jogged to catch up with her. “Oh yeah,” he said. “But I have to warn you, I’m going to be a back-seat driver.”
“You go, girlfriend.”
When Zoe stepped out of the bathroom ten minutes later, the transformation was complete. Heavy, bright blue eyeshadow framed eyes decorated with long false eyelashes. The rouged cheeks framed the neon red of her lips and all on a canvas of deep, fake, orange tan.
Fishing around in the cases of tech that littered the room Zoe eventually located the glasses and carefully slipped them on.
“What do you think?” she said, giving Lucas a twirl.
“Wonderfully memorable.” Lucas clapped his hands, giving her a mini round of applause.
“Memorably unmemorable,” added Zoe. “Of course, now I need to trick it out.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lucas. “Do the glasses not send the signal back here?”
“Maybe in the movies,” Zoe sighed, grabbing a small tablet computer and wandering up the stairs toward the back room she had repurposed as the tech-zone.
Lucas followed her, stepping over wires and plug extensions as he entered the room.
“Bloody hell, it’s hotter in here than before,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Zoe, plugging the tablet into one of the desktop computers and tapping on the keyboard in front of her. “Once you start to get a few running they kick out a fair bit of heat.”
“So why can’t you wander around and beam everything here then?” asked Lucas.
“You know when you’re in a department store or somewhere like that?” she replied.
“Yeah.”
“And you can’t get a mobile signal?”
“Oh right.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit like that, only with the banker’s flat it’s underground.” Zoe turned back to her programming. The tablet burst to life with reams of text flying across the screen quicker than either of them could have taken it in. “So it’s a right pain in the arse to get anything in or out of there. I’m going to relay everything from the glasses to this tablet, then I’ll download the lot once I’m back here. Plus I’m putting some software on the tablet that’ll work with the GPS so the two things will create a kind of three dimensional map. I’d like to say it all happened automatically but actually it’s a fucking lot of work.”
“Sounds complicated,” said Lucas.
Zoe nodded and, apparently satisfied with what she’d done to the tablet, unplugged it. “It is what it is. Tablet will also be harvesting anything digital that might be useful too, it’ll pick up a bunch of stuff like networks, security stuff...” Zoe trailed off, sensing she was losing Lucas. “And I need a coat of some description, oh fashion captain, Sir.”
“Right then,” said Lucas, glancing at his watch. “I know the perfect one. And it’s got lots of pockets so you can put all your... all your shit in them. Then we gotta go, time’s ticking.”
Chapter 21
The door to the headquarters burst open and Violet strode in, followed a moment later by Katie, who was moving a little more slowly so she could duck to get under the frame.
“Who the fuck is that?” Violet pointed at Zoe.
“Who the fuck is that?” Lucas pointed at Katie.
“It’s me, you dipshit,” said Zoe.
“You’re not going out of the house dressed like that, young lady,” said Violet, relaxing a little. “What have you done to yourself?”
Zoe stepped forward into the middle of the room and gave them a twirl. The army surplus jacket Lucas had selected for her billowed out and, for a second, the tablet computer strapped under her checked shirt could be seen, attached to Zoe’s body with a modified gun holster.
“Lucas was helping me, making me look like someone else so I can’t be identified after the fact,” said Zoe.
“He did make you look like somebody else,” said Violet. “And that somebody was clearly very drunk indeed before she got dressed and put her make-up on.”
“Who the fuck’s that?” Lucas repeated, pointing to Katie.
Violet ignored him, deliberately refusing to make eye contact. “Barry? Are you busy?” she shouted.
Over in the corner Barry put down the spray gun he was wielding and took off his protective mask. “I need to finish the wing or it’ll look shit but, yeah, I’ve got a minute.”
Violet smiled in appreciation. “Barry, this is Katie,” she said. “Katie, this is Barry.”
“Fuck me. You’re a big one aren’t you?” said Barry.
“And strong with it, Barry,” Violet retorted. “So watch your mouth or you’ll end up carrying your teeth home with broken fingers.”
“Pleasure to meet you m’lady.” Barry bowed with a flourish and Katie silently laughed, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth.
“Over there, dressed like the vomit of a unicorn, is Miss Zoe Zimmerman,” said Violet and Zoe waved then pushed her glasses up her nose. “She’s about to go and case the flat where the painting currently resides and give us all sorts of technical advantages in the process.”
“Damn right,” said Zoe.
“I think that’s it,” said Violet and clapped her hands.
“Well, fuck you,” said Lucas angrily. “I’m as much a part of this crew as anyone else, you know?” He stormed over to Katie, who raised her eyebrows and looked down at him. “Lucas Vaughan,” he said and looked to Katie for a reply. Katie just smiled and shrugged. “You as well? Really?” Lucas began turning red, raisi
ng his voice to a shout. “You know, you could say something. Anything really. ‘Hi Lucas’ or ‘Pleased to meet you’ but–”
Katie reached forward and put her hand over Lucas’ mouth and nose. He tried instinctively to step back but Katie extended her arm. Unable to breathe, Lucas grunted, but Violet quickly stepped in.
“Katie can’t speak, Lucas,” she explained.
Katie removed her hand and Lucas stared down at those big feet of hers.
“Sorry, it’s – it’s...” he stammered. Katie placed her index finger under his chin and lifted his head. He could feel her strength even in that one finger. Their eyes met and Katie gave him a smile, then her eyes flicked to Violet and back before going into a roll.
“Yeah, I suppose she is a bit,” he said, and exhaled, not really sure what had just happened.
“Anyway, people,” said Violet, holding aloft a black courier’s tube. “We have in here something a little special.”
Katie reached forward and plucked the tube out of Violet’s hands, replacing it with one of the parts from Barry’s car engine, which was significantly heavier. Violet wobbled slightly as she struggled not to drop it on her own head.
“You robbed the museum?” said Zoe excitedly.
“We came. We saw. We set up a little dead end. We smashed some things up. We scarpered.” Violet laughed her machine gun laugh and carefully lowered the engine part down to waist height.
Barry, Zoe and Lucas all gathered around, eager to hear the first real triumph of the job. Violet told them about meeting Katie, getting in and finding everything, and about how they had set all the alarms off in order to leave in a hurry.
“So what did you steal as a decoy in the end?” asked Zoe.
Violet produced something quite small and flat covered with a sheet. She placed it on the floor in front of them all and unwrapped the object carefully before putting the sheet to one side. The five of them were looking at what appeared to be a slab of marble, the size of a small laptop. There were some words etched on it:
“The bad artists imitate, the great artists steal.” Pablo Picasso
Except the name ‘Pablo Picasso’ had been crudely scrawled out and the name ‘Banksy’ etched underneath.
“Is it supposed to look like that or have you been fucking with it?” asked Barry, not quite sure what to make of the plaque Violet had delivered.
“It’s a Banksy,” said Zoe, knowingly. “You know Banksy, don’t you, Barry?”
Barry shrugged. “Name rings a bell like but, nah. Not really.”
“He’s a famous graffiti artist,” explained Zoe. “Only he usually sprays stencils on walls. Sort of anti-establishment, political statements, you know?”
“Oh,” said Barry and wandered back off to finish respraying the car.
“Only he doesn’t usually do stuff like this, does he?” Zoe directed the question to Violet.
“Not sure really, I’m not a huge expert. It seemed... appropriate,” said Violet with a wicked grin. “After the amount of money the museum paid for this piece to simply put it into storage... It seemed like the artist would probably appreciate what we were doing.”
“He wouldn’t mind you nicking his stuff?” asked Lucas, a little confused.
“Not if we donate it to a charity shop and they get the proceeds,” said Violet. “I think he’d like that very much indeed.”
Katie nodded, satisfied with the explanation.
“I spotted it on the inventory you gave me, Zoe, so cheers for that,” Violet continued. “And the floor plans, alarms, everything were spot on. Good job.”
Zoe blushed and was about to say something. “So you got the canvas too, I take it?” Lucas butted in.
Katie launched the courier tube like a javelin through the air but instead of throwing it high and far she ducked and hurled it straight at waist height. At Lucas’ waist height.
Lucas wasn’t expecting it and took the full force of the blow in his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. Katie shrugged as Lucas doubled over, horrible rasping noises parping from his mouth as he tried to breathe normally.
“Katie,” Violet hissed. It was too late. Katie was already stalking off to explore the further reaches of the warehouse. Violet and Zoe fussed around Lucas, helping him sit down. Violet tried to calm the situation, explaining that Katie had a bit of a temper, that perhaps he should be a bit more careful as to what he said around her because, like a Wookiee, Katie had a tendency to tear people’s arms off if she lost.
“If she loses what?” Lucas wheezed, cracking a smile that no-one believed.
Violet smacked him on the back. “Good man,” she said. “That’s the spirit.”
“So,” said Zoe, rapidly losing interest in Lucas and turning back to Violet. “You got the canvas, you got a decoy that you’re going to give to a charity shop… We didn’t have a plan for how you would get out.”
“Oh, I suppose we didn’t, did we?” said Violet and began to wander off after Katie. “And it’s canvases. In the plural.”
“Violet!” Zoe snapped. “Tell me!”
“If anyone’s interested,” said Barry from the other side of the room. “I couldn’t give a shit.”
“No-one is,” shouted Violet and then, turning around to Zoe and Lucas once more, “Well, we lifted the canvases no problem at all. There should be enough there for two attempts at the Dali signature according to the measurements Damien gave us.”
Lucas winced and smiled, which gave him the look of someone suffering the after effects of an unexpectedly hot curry.
“Then I thought the best bet would be to smash our way in to where they were keeping that.” Violet gestured towards the Banksy plaque. “And once we’d got hold of it I set the alarms off.”
“What?” asked Zoe.
“What?” echoed Lucas.
Violet grinned.
“You do realise I could quite easily have disabled them?” Zoe began, but then paused for a second, raising her index finger and wagging it soundlessly at Violet as she calculated something in her head. “So...” she said a moment later. “So...if you set the alarms off then the security guards would know where you were and you wouldn’t be able to pick the locks because the alarm triggers the magnetic seals.”
“Correct!” exclaimed Violet.
“Wait!” said Lucas. “So how did you escape?”
“What?” said Violet, pretending to look confused. “Ohhhhhh... well that was easy. I bumped into a security guard out front before we broke in. Stole his identity card and used it to open the doors we needed to open and then walked straight out the front door with the canvases and the Banksy.”
Violet blew Zoe and Lucas a kiss and then flounced off after Katie.
“She’s good,” said Zoe when Violet was out of earshot.
“She’s a fucking maniac,” whispered Lucas as he popped open the courier tube.
Chapter 22
It was starting to rain. Although, given that this was Kilchester, that was hardly any great surprise. It was always starting to rain in Kilchester, Zoe thought as she stared across the road. She had to get to the banker’s flat before a downpour came, if for no other reason than she had no idea how her ridiculous make-up would react to a soaking.
She wasn’t usually nervous like this, but then she wasn’t usually out of her comfort zone to this degree.
Zoe touched the glasses on her face. Unused to having them there, she found herself unable to stop fidgeting with them. But there was no need to be nervous, she told herself. Rollo Glass wasn’t expecting to be robbed and, today at least, he wasn’t going to be robbed. She took a deep breath and crossed the road, approaching the entrance lobby to the flats.
It was an odd sort of building and not really what Zoe had expected, although it had to be said that she didn’t really have any experiences of underground bunkers. The piece of land that the building sat in was fenced off from the rest of the street, although there was no gate; the gap in the fence was easily big enou
gh to fit two cars side by side and led into a car parking area. Anyone unaware of what lay beneath could have been forgiven for thinking that this was nothing more than a car park and that the person in the building was the attendant. As Zoe walked over she scanned the perimeter and saw the first round of cameras pointing down towards the two or three expensive cars left there.
The building itself looked like an overpaid architect had been asked to design a greenhouse and had then been furnished with too much money to build it. Although only a single storey and perhaps five metres wide, the front of the building was made entirely of glass, so the security guard behind the desk inside could easily see whoever was approaching. As Zoe got closer she could see the tops of a couple of computer monitors on the desk in front of him. “A secure feed from all the cameras which are monitored at an external location and attended by a security guard twenty four hours a day.” That’s what it had said on the website of the security firm. She certainly hoped so, because that was exactly what she was going to attempt to intercept. Behind the guard was a single wooden door and over to the other side, away from the desk, were a pair of brushed metal doors.
The guard’s gaze flicked from the monitors to Zoe as she reached the outer door and pushed the handle. It didn’t budge.
Panic rose inside of her as the guard raised his index finger and pointed at her once, twice, three times. Then she realised that he wasn’t pointing at her but at the intercom to the right of the door. She tried to stop her finger from shaking as she pressed the button.
“Can I help you, Miss?” he said politely, his voice crisp and electronic from the intercom’s speaker.
“Yes – uh – I have an appointment to see Mr Glass’s assistant,” she said, pushing the nerves down inside.
“Oh, the student.” Zoe could see the guard smile, and there was a buzz as he unlocked the door. “Come in.”
