by G. K. Parks
Repeating the process and having to bribe the bouncers at the last two locations, I still had no idea what was going on. Each place was completely different from the last, including the skills needed to conduct the heists. Just because the tactics were the same didn’t mean the burglars were since every security aspect was unique for each club. Maybe each heist was executed by a different group of thieves working for one mastermind. It was an overwhelming feeling to be thrown into a myriad of dissimilarities that all ended in the same result. No wonder the police were stumped; I was downright baffled.
Concluding my reconnaissance, I ended up back at Infinity. Ambling my way to the bouncer, I bypassed dozens of people waiting in line. Ernie wasn’t joking when he said his place was happening.
“Hi, ya,” I flirted.
My first test was to see how gullible the doorman might be. A few linemen were walking around near the building, checking IDs and questioning those who appeared to be less savory. It was crazy to think a club owner actually wanted to keep drugs and hookers on the outside.
“Miss, the line’s back there.” He didn’t even bother to glance up.
“You think there might be a way to move things along?” I purred.
“Sorry.”
“I can make it worth your while.” Reaching into my wallet, I produced a fifty. The man looked offended. What was the going rate on bribery these days? “You don’t want money?” He motioned to one of the linemen to escort me away. “Fine, get Ernie on the line. He asked to see me.” I dropped the flirtation and the act. At least the bouncer couldn’t be bought, unless I just wasn’t his type.
“Name?”
“Alexis Parker.” He hit a button on his earpiece and spoke my name over the radio.
“Sorry, Ms. Parker.” He unhooked the velvet rope and gestured inside. “Go on in. The boss is upstairs.”
“Thanks.”
Inside, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the lavish feel Infinity exuded. My impression from this afternoon left me with nary a basis for what I witnessed now. It wasn’t the normal bump and grind of hundreds of sweaty, drunk young adults searching for brief companionship while some DJ pumped pounding techno rhythms into the over-processed air. This place was something else entirely. The couches were soft leather with large cushioned square ottomans serving as both tables and extra seats. The music was mellow, and the dancing didn’t resemble a writhing, dying beast. Upscale at its finest.
“Alexis?” Ernie had transformed just like his club. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a black tailored suit with a deep blue dress shirt open at the neck. His watch from before was around his wrist, and there was a single diamond stud in his ear. I would have expected to run into nighttime Mr. Papadakis at a board meeting at MT with the elegance and sophistication he conveyed; whereas, daytime Ernie would have been found bumming around on the beach. “Why don’t you come upstairs?”
Climbing the spiral staircase in the middle of the room, I noted as much of the club as possible. The upper level was comprised of private, secluded rooms where the VIPs could party or conduct business away from prying eyes and the noise of downstairs. Ernie escorted me into his office and shut the door behind us. The room must have been soundproofed because, had I not just walked through the club, I would have never realized we were in a club.
“You have a lovely establishment,” I commented, performing a quick sweep of the room and guessing the safe was mounted behind the large painting on the wall.
“Thank you. I’m glad you decided to stop by tonight.” He took a seat in his plush leather chair. “You didn’t mention when you were starting your surveillance, so I didn’t have the doorman put you on the list.”
“No worries. I just wanted to look around before reviewing the information you provided on your security measures so I would have some idea of what to picture. Going in blind, I can determine how I would choreograph the break-in and then see how feasible it is.” This might have sounded like blabbering to an untrained civilian, but he excitedly grinned.
“How would you do it?”
“Off the top of my head, I’d block the lock on the side door that exits into the alley, hoping the security system couldn’t engage with the door ajar. Then I’d stay in the blind spot of the camera near the bar and front door until I could cut the feed and head up the hidden back staircase inside the storeroom behind the bar. Next, I’d go to your office, pick the lock on the door, remove the painting from the wall, open the safe, head back downstairs, hit the cash drawer, and leave the way I came in.”
He paled, and his jaw dropped. “How’d you know about the back staircase or the safe?” His skin flushed, rapidly replacing his ashen visage.
“I saw the top of the second staircase before coming in here, and really, why else would you have a painting hanging there?” Ernie was flabbergasted. “Plus, I am a trained investigator. Detecting is what I do,” I added, hoping to make him feel better.
“What do I do? Clearly, it wouldn’t be difficult to rob this place blind.” I stifled my chuckle at his melodrama.
“First of all, it’s all talk. I haven’t looked at your security schematics yet, so getting into the side door might be a hell of a lot harder than it sounded. Next, I’m not a safecracker, and disconnecting your cameras would either require a hands-on approach or some method of remotely shorting them out. Assuming everything is backed up on a hard disk, I’d have to figure out where the system is housed and wipe the footage of my interference.” Something pinged in my brain, and I knew where to focus my efforts when assessing the previous four heists.
“Hell, I think I should hire you for head of security.”
“Wouldn’t that be too on the nose?” I retorted. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going downstairs to act like a club-goer since I didn’t dress like this for a second business meeting. Any employees in particular you think are involved?”
“The newest hires are Sam, Gretchen, and Mindy. He’s our new bartender, and the two ladies are waitresses. I can point them out before you go downstairs.”
We stood outside his office and leaned against the railing, surveying the club below. Ernie pointed to a redhead in a black miniskirt, silver tank top, and wearing an apron and a tall, leggy blonde with a matching outfit. Needless to say, I wasn’t a fan of the uniform. Sam was the dirty blond with a python tattoo wrapped around his arm. He didn’t seem classy enough for this joint, but given the flock of ladies standing at the bar, calling to him, he was a sound hire.
“Just so you know, my bar tab is going to be added to billable expenses,” I warned before going down the steps.
Having never been a club-goer, blending in was an arduous task. Deciding to stick with what I knew, I slowly scoped out the dance floor, managing to bounce enough to appear to be dancing while making my way through the crowd. I kept an eye on the waitresses as they served the patrons on the couches. The couch was more my speed, but unless I had a group of my five best friends, I’d look even more suspicious sitting there alone. That left only one option, the bar.
Crowded didn’t even begin to describe the throng of people surrounding the stools and shouting orders to the three bartenders. Finding the perfect vantage point, I hoped the guy and girl playing tonsil hockey in the corner would decide to vacate, but things didn’t look to be in my favor. I would just have to do something to improve my odds.
Bumping into the man seated next to the couple, I jostled his beer right into the lap of the lovely young woman. She immediately jumped out of her chair and screamed. Fortunately, her hockey partner took this turn of events as a cosmic sign. After threatening to force me to pay for her ruined dress, he led her out of the club and back to his place, so he could throw her clothes into the washing machine or onto the floor. Thank god chivalry wasn’t dead.
Taking the far seat in the corner, I apologized to the man whose beer I spilled. “Anytime, doll,” he replied. “I’m just glad I don’t have to intentionally ignore them for a minute longer.”
Finally, one of the bartenders came over, and I ordered another round for my new friend and a lemon drop martini for myself. “Come here often?” My beer buddy didn’t understand I wasn’t looking for a man.
“All the time. My boyfriend’s the DJ,” I lied. The man nodded his head sadly and turned away. I was glad that was over with.
Unwilling to risk losing the seat I had so expertly stolen, I didn’t move from the barstool the rest of the night. After a couple of hours and turning down half a dozen guys who asked to dance or offered to buy me a drink, Sam came to my end of the bar to clean up.
“Another?” He jerked his chin at my glass.
“Why not?” It was my third, but I had no intention of drinking it. “Can I persuade you to join me?”
“Can’t. I’m working. Club policy,” he apologized, pouring the ingredients into a shaker. “You’ve been sitting here all night. Someone break your heart?”
“You, for making me drink alone.” He adopted a sexy grin and placed a fresh martini on the bar. “Hey, how’s the pay here?”
“Pretty fucking fantastic, just like the women.” Men must all read the same book on clichéd pick-up lines. “Looking for a sugar daddy?”
“No, I’m looking for a job.”
Three
After conversing with Sam for another hour, he insisted on putting in a good word with the boss and introduced me to a couple of the waitresses. Tina and Mary had both worked at Infinity for the last few months and slipped off my radar quickly. Tina was working nights in order to help pay for her husband’s medical degree, and Mary took this job to support herself through grad school. While money was probably tight for everyone, I didn’t think they were going to risk future careers on illegal endeavors. Mindy and Gretchen were the suspicious new hires, and I wasn’t sure what capabilities either possessed in order to conduct a heist, especially since Mindy was a complete airhead. But at least it was a start.
It was almost four a.m. by the time I trudged up the steps to my apartment and unlocked the door. My alarm clock was set for nine, and I planned to call Ernie in the morning to give him the heads up about Sam suggesting he hire me. There was no real guarantee Sam would mention it. But Ernie didn’t need to be blindsided, or my job would be ending before it even began.
The next morning, I spoke with Ernie, and we decided I would start training as a waitress on Thursday. This allowed enough time to review his security weaknesses and run backgrounds on his employees. With any luck, he was overreacting, and business would be concluded in a week or two. In the meantime, I went to my office to run the pertinent background checks and finish reviewing the case files.
Sam Harrigan, bartender extraordinaire, had a record for assault. He had been arrested for fighting in a bar. I dismissed his rap sheet as a side effect of his job and continued on. No one else had any known convictions or arrests, which spoke well for Infinity’s hiring practices. Since the employees were all upstanding citizens, I might as well focus my time on security. There was a mid-level safe, five security cameras placed strategically throughout the two levels, and key code locks on the interior doors. The windows were barred, and the only exterior exits were the front, side, and a set of double doors in the back for deliveries.
I mulled over the exits. Something was gnawing at my subconscious when it came to the deliveries and the back doors. Changing gears, I unlocked my drawer and pulled out copies of the police reports. The four other break-ins, which I had labeled A thru D based on the order of occurrence, all had similar double doors for deliveries. The doors themselves weren’t irksome; it was the deliverymen.
Running through a list of vendors, all of the clubs used the same liquor supplier. Would the deliveryman be the same too? Typing in the information, I came up with a telephone number and phoned the company.
Stoltz Bros. Liquor Emporium was a local liquor store that provided the clubs with a great discount on high-end alcohol. The theory was if you keep business in the community, it would create more jobs and help the local economy. It might also be a front for some other illegal activities, but then again, I was trained to be leery.
When a woman answered, I asked for information on the delivery driver and his schedule. She told me to go screw myself unless I had a warrant. What a kind and helpful lady. I made a note to call Hoskins about the liquor company.
My whiteboard stared blankly from across the room. “Don’t just stand there, tell me something.” Talking to inanimate objects might be a sign of mental illness. Then again, I did it all the time, and I passed my psych evals. Who knows? I picked up a marker and the file folder for Club A and began diagramming the crime.
Two hours later, the front of the board was divided into quarters, and each contained all the relevant information on the break-ins, the possible suspects, and the security systems and weaknesses. The video tampering still bothered me, but I lacked the resources to determine how it was altered. Chewing on the lid of the marker, I waited for inspiration to strike. Instead, the bell above my door dinged.
“It’s nice to see you aren’t inhaling permanent marker fumes,” Agent Mark Jablonsky said, taking a seat in my client chair.
“What brings you down here? Shouldn’t you be sitting at your desk at the OIO, kissing Director Kendall’s ass?”
“Parker, play nice,” Mark chastised. “The Bureau’s been called in on a local matter, and I wondered how busy you were.” He wasn’t normally this vague, so something must be up.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I can’t say unless you agree to consult. In this instance, you might have some particularly relevant feedback to offer.” I scrutinized his expression, but he wouldn’t budge.
“You heard about the four club robberies?” I raised an eyebrow, and he nodded absently as he reviewed my board and notes. “I’m trying to reassure a client his club is secure.”
“When you finish, give me a call. We’ll talk then.” He took the extra marker off my desk, went to the board, circled four words, and handed back the marker. I stood staring at the circled words, awestruck.
“Saturday night after close.” It wasn’t rocket science, and I felt like a complete moron. Losing sight of the forest for the trees was a hazard of the job, but I had completely neglected the apparent timetable. Like clockwork, every two weeks a club was hit after closing Saturday night. It was the most opportune time to strike, after the largest number of partiers had been out drinking away their weekend and spending without a care. The money the bars raked in would stay locked in the safe until Monday when the banks reopened. Regardless of my role, if Infinity was being targeted, we would know soon enough.
It was time to get down to business. Sticking the police reports on top of my desk, I pulled out my notes on Infinity and flipped my whiteboard over so I could use the space on the back. Even though I was no artist, I diagrammed the layout of the two floors of the building, marked the exits, labeled the cameras and estimated their ranges, tagged the offices and points of interest, and then stepped back to admire my handiwork.
How would I conduct the perfect heist? Pulling out the schematics on the security system, I spent the rest of the day reading and reviewing. By the time I came up with a perfect plan, it was dark. I made a list of equipment needed and figured I’d ask Hoskins to check into recent purchase histories at the local hardware and electronic stores. It was all labor intensive legwork, but he was a cop. They specialized in grunt work. I left a message on his voicemail, but there was no assurance he would call back with the information. Either way, I agreed to pass along anything I had, and this was it.
I didn’t want to go clubbing tonight, but I was on the clock. Stopping at home, I microwaved some leftovers and changed into something club-worthy. After eating, I planned to spend another evening familiarizing myself with Infinity.
The bouncer from last night recognized me and removed the velvet rope without a word. Sam was behind the bar, and the four waitresses were catering to the couch crowd. Ernie was in
the storeroom having a discussion with a gentleman who was dressed a little too nicely, even for this swanky club.
Luckily, Tuesday wasn’t a popular day, so I managed to get a seat at the bar without having to spill any drinks. I tried to keep my glances moving so as not to draw undue attention to Ernie and the mystery man. Something about the backroom meeting wasn’t sitting well, and I fiddled with the zipper on my purse, taking some comfort in knowing there was a nine millimeter with a full clip inside.
“What can I get you?” Sam asked, leaning forward so he could be heard over the music.
“The usual.” It was nice to have stability. Plus, he started pouring before I even ordered. Was I really that predictable to a complete stranger?
“Thought so.” He put the drink down. “You look the elegant, no-nonsense type.” Was this flirtation? I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I talked to the boss, Mr. Papadakis. Did you get a call for an interview?”
“Something like that.” I hadn’t heard from Ernie since this morning, so I didn’t know what to say. “Is that him?” Jerking my chin toward the storeroom, Sam turned and followed my gaze.
“Yep. He’s talking to one of the backers. When he’s done, I’ll introduce you.”
“Thanks.” I graced him with my most brilliant smile.
A half hour later, the well-dressed man left the storeroom and headed straight for the exit, keeping his head down. It looked like Ernie and I might be having another insightful chat in the immediate future.
