The Zaanics Deceit (Cate Lyr #1)

by Nina Post

“I sent a Town Car for you,” she said.

  “Aw, Vulcan was real excited about the BART. I gave the driver a tip for his trouble. Hope it didn’t put you out much,” Argos added.

  “No, that’s fine. My sister is leaving later today for a meeting, so take a few hours and be a tourist,” she told him. “Get some hot chocolate and ice cream at Ghirardelli Square, go see the bridge, walk around Pier 39. Whatever you want.” Cate figured Gaelen was probably in the airport at the same time as Argos and Vulcan, a thought that amused her. “She won’t be back until the day after tomorrow. We’ll do the job tonight. Oh, and I’ll have someone with me.”

  “Well, that’s a first,” Argos said. “All righty, talk soon. I’m gonna go hunt down a bear claw. Getting a little peckish.”

  He hung up and she wondered if he meant the pastry or something else.

  That night, Cate went up to Noah’s apartment to set up the equipment to watch Argos and Vulcan through their attached convex cameras, and the few cameras positioned both inside the loft and outside the window. It was the first time she saw where he lived and it surprised her. She expected he would live in an old place, with creaky pine floors and a rickety kitchen, with a freezing cold bathroom and unreliable plumbing. But the building was new, his countertops were limestone, and the appliances high-end. While he laid out various stacks of papers next to his laptop on the table in the dining nook, she investigated further.

  “Do you want some coffee?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  The three clustered tables in front of his sofa were dustless and held a wood chess set, a few remote controls, and some work-related reading. The very large TV sat on top of a glass-frosted cabinet and underneath a long abstract painting. She moved over to the screens, her comfort zone. The footage appeared on a large flat-screen on a table by the kitchen. Earlier, she’d told Argos and Vulcan not to gain access behind anyone who left the building.

  “This ain’t our first time on this ride, you know,” Argos told her. “Don’t you worry. Anyone sees us, they’ll just think, hey, look — a tobacco farmer and a lighthouse keeper.”

  “It’s San Francisco,” Cate said. “Just add ‘with buttless chaps’ after each one.”

  “Now, Vulcan, he’s not used to working in those.”

  “Implying that you are?”

  Argos sputtered and got off the phone in a hurry. She grinned and hung up.

  When Argos and Vulcan got to Gaelen’s loft, they picked the front lock unnoticed. Argos located and opened the false bookcase wall, which swung open on small wheels to reveal the gigantic safe in the hidden room. Vulcan slowly sat in front of the massive hunk of metal, knees together and hands resting on his thighs, as though in supplication.

  “What’s he doing?” Noah asked. His voice didn’t go through the connection, only Cate’s did, since she decided what the crew would hear using the controls on her headset.

  She spoke into the microphone. “Argos, could you explain to my associate what Vulcan is doing right now?” Cate had seen it before. Vulcan did it every time he approached a safe or a vault. When Vulcan first auditioned to be on the crew, she watched him for a few minutes then nearly cut him loose, because she didn’t need a prima donna full of affectations working on her team. But Argos had said, ‘Hold your tater ’til he’s done with his preamble. You won’t believe how fast he is.’ It turned out Argos was right: even with Vulcan’s set-up, he was faster and better than anyone she had even heard stories of.

  “He’s sitting in his asana.” Argos voice dropped to a golf announcer pitch. “He calls it his Thunderbolt Pose.”

  Vulcan held up his right hand, extending the first two fingers and folding down his thumb and other fingers.

  “That right there is a mudra. The one he’s making right now is called the knife hand, or shuto. This particular mudra represents the sword of enlightenment. Vulcan, he’s cutting through the delusions that tempt us away from enlightenment. Now, I welcome those delusions with open arms. Can’t get enough of ’em.”

  Vulcan spoke in a low chant.

  “That’s his mantra,” Argos said, still in his Jack Whitaker voice. “He’s repeating it and emphasizing a certain part of it. It sharpens his mind so he can be at one with the rotary combination lock. It’s a ritual he does every time, like a baseball player or a trial lawyer.” He said ‘lawyer’ with a ‘saw.’ Cate loved that.

  “Your associate want to see his tattoo?”

  “Absolutely,” Cate said.

  Argos went over to Vulcan and lifted his sleeve. Vulcan didn’t even seem to notice. “This here’s a tattoo of Mañjuśrī riding on a blue lion. Mañjuśrī is a Bodhisattva — ” Argos gave Vulcan some distance again — “who’s associated with transcendent wisdom in, uh …”

  “Mahāyāna Buddhism,” Cate said, “which teaches that people are obligated to help each other along the path of liberation from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.”

  “Well now,” Argos said. “Has that been your experience? That people help each other along this path?”

  “Nope.” But she grinned.

  “Me neither. Anyway, the blue lion, that represents wisdom that tames the mind. Vulcan wants to tame the ferocious lion of his mind with wisdom.” Argos paused. “He should be ready soon. He does his mudra, then chants his mantra for a little bit, then sits quiet, then gets to work on the lock. He’s got a long preamble, but makes up for it later, and it’s easier on the rest of us later.”

  Vulcan ceased chanting, and just sat quietly.

  “I had some rituals of my own when I worked control,” Argos said. “More like superstitions, I suppose. Ate the same thing for breakfast every day. Wore the same tie every day. Had the same routine. Tried to keep everything the same. That way, I wouldn’t make any mistakes. No one else would make any mistakes. And the people in those planes, they’d be safe.”

  Argos went quiet, and Cate knew why. He’d made a mistake. She’d found him sitting at an airport bar trying to drink himself to death. His wife left him, he had no family he was close to, and he’d been firmly encouraged to leave his place of employment. At the time, she hadn’t sold Mort’s business yet, and told the man she would one day call Argos to call her for a job. All he knew was air traffic control, but Cate knew exactly how he’d be valuable to her, how his skills could be put to work again. And she was right.

  Mort had given her a purpose — the only thing she needed to pull her out of the pain she was in. She knew the power of that.

  Vulcan got out of his pose and approached the safe. He placed his hand against the front, near the dial, with exquisite tenderness.

  Noah snorted lightly as he watched Vulcan on the screen. “It’s like that scene in Mildred Pierce when Mildred looks through the glass of the restaurant window at her daughter.”

  Vulcan leaned against the safe, snuggled up against it, and pressed his face against the metal.

  “He’s gonna do manipulation first, by feel and sound,” Argos said. “He likes the connection, and if he has to drill, then the balloon goes up.”

  Noah mouthed ‘What?’

  “Vulcan doesn’t like resorting to the drill,” Cate told Noah. “He’s equipped for it — in that case, he’s got a drill with a tungsten-carbide bit and a diamond bit. Safes like that usually have either hardplate steel or a composite hardplate with tungsten carbide. It defends against forced entry and protects the mechanism and bolts.”

  “No, I meant, ‘the balloon goes up.’”

  “Oh, that just means that trouble’s brewing,” Cate said. “If Vulcan uses the drill, he gets in a foul mood. He lives for the tactile manipulation.”

  Vulcan was a craftsman. Cate hired people because their strengths complemented her weaknesses, and vice versa. But it wasn’t any good if the people you worked with didn’t value the same things.

  They all watched Vulcan slowly manipulate the lock. He was still pressed up against the safe, feeling for the subtle tremor that indicated each correct nu
mber.

  “Now, this safe, which costs more than my car, probably has what’s called a glass relocker,” Argos said in a very soft voice. “That’s a piece of tempered glass the manufacturer mounts between the door and the lock. It’s got these wires connected to spring-loaded bolts that could be located any damn place. If it detects entry, the drill — or a torch, if you’re usin’ that — breaks the glass and releases the bolt so the main bolt doesn’t retract. If he had to drill, and heaven help us if he does, he could get right through.”

  It didn’t look like Vulcan would have to drill.

  Argos’s voice crackled over the comm line. “When the discs start rotating with the dial, the catches will rotate the next disc until all of the discs are rotating along with the dial. Then when he rotates it in the other direction, the catches will disconnect on the discs until everything’s going in the opposite direction. This two-step process keeps going until all of the discs are in place. Then the lock releases.”

  Vulcan spun the dial around, twice, then turned it gently back and forth.

  Noah crossed his arms and paced in front of the screen. “That’s just amazing.” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Vulcan’s superb at what he does,” Cate said. “He has the skills, he knows how to use the tools, but most important, he’s got the patience.”

  “The Buddhism probably helps with that,” Noah added.

  Cate hesitated. Even if someone had the best intentions, they wouldn’t value her secrets or privacy the same way she did. They could reveal something out of ignorance, easy, and it was one of her rules that everything was on a need-to-know basis. But she trusted Noah enough to tell him this.

  “Vulcan used to herd sheep.” Both Vulcan and Argos were Navy, doing different jobs, but she didn’t mention that. After Vulcan was honorably discharged, he bought land and sheep in New Zealand through a friend, then did nothing but sheep herding and animal husbandry for the next several years.

  “You’re joking,” Noah said.

  “It’s true.”

  “That has to teach you patience, I’d think.”

  “Oh yeah,” Cate said. “He said nothing will test your patience like sheep. But then a guy who thought Vulcan was a competitor burned down his house and barn, slaughtered every single one of his animals, and stuck one of the heads on the hood ornament of Vulcan’s truck.”

  Noah’s eyes went wide. “What’d he do?”

  “Vulcan? He killed the guy and went to prison.”

  Noah laughed. “No, seriously, what did he do?”

  Cate just looked at him.

  He froze and shifted his eyes toward the screen, suddenly concerned. “Oh.”

  “When he got out, he moved to the New York State, bought two goats, and started selling milk and cheese. He also rented the goats as a mowing alternative. I was doing a job in the city and drove out there to see the fall leaves. Met him at a farmer’s market.”

  Noah gave her a look.

  “What? I like autumn.” Cate planted her palms on the table and switched her attention to another video feed on the monitor, which showed a car pulling into a street spot by the building. “Noah, your brother just showed up.” Cate pointed at the car.

  “Coq au vin,” Noah swore. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

  “How much longer until the safe is opened?” Cate asked over the comm line.

  “Any minute now,” Argos said. “He should have heard almost all the contact points, judging by the time.”

  “Argos, someone’s coming up to the loft.”

  Cate’s breath caught as she watched Jude unlock the door to the unit. “Get inside that room with the safe and shut the door behind you right now.”

  Argos quickly moved inside and shut the door. He and Vulcan wouldn’t have much space in there.

  Jude entered the loft and tossed his keys into a shallow bowl on the kitchen counter. He hung his jacket on a hook then headed for a chair, collapsing into it with an audible exhalation as though exhausted, long legs stretched out in front of him. He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels.

  In the tiny room behind the bookcase, Vulcan shook his head and reached for his case. He picked up a small object and put it in his ear. Cate knew the muffled sound of the TV was driving him to use his earpiece, which would help him hear however many tumbler clicks he had left.

  “Noah, you have to get Jude out of there,” Cate said.

  Noah recoiled. “Me? We’re not — we don’t — ”

  “Yeah, I know. Put that out of your mind,” she said. “If we can tempt him with another way he can hurt you, I’m almost certain he’d bite.”

  Noah looked pained.

  “Jude’s not going to resist the temptation of getting back a little more at the brother he resents.” She raised her brows and waited.

  Noah pressed a fist against his mouth and crossed his other arm at his waist. “I see what you’re saying. But I really, really don’t want to.”

  “Think fast. We need to get him out of there.” She grabbed his phone off the table and handed it to him. Noah looked at the phone like it was a cliff he had to dive off.

  “It should be something crucially important Jude has to do for you,” Cate offered. “If he doesn’t do this one little thing for you, something only he can do and now, you’ll probably be fired. And everyone knows the job market is crap, so you probably won’t be able to find another job.”

  “Actually, I’m really good at what I — ”

  “And then you’ll start missing your rent payments, and the collection agencies will start calling, and you’ll start robbing check-cashing places to get money for drugs, and the next thing you know, you’re wearing a set of gold fang dentures.”

  Noah cocked his head, squinted. “Wait — what?”

  “Just call him.”

  Noah called Jude. “It’s Noah. I need a small favor from you.” He closed his eyes and winced. For a second, Cate wondered if his appendix burst. “I need you to go to my office and take the orange file folder off my desk. I thought my boss was going to be out of town, but he’ll be back in the office first thing in the morning and if he sees that orange folder, he’s going to take it, and I’ll be in huge trouble. I would get fired. And possibly sued.”

  Noah listened to the response and cast a desperate glance at Cate, who gave him a thumbs up. “Anyway, I would really appreciate if you could do this, because it could be catastrophic, career-wise, if you don’t.” He paused. “Yeah, right now. I’ll be stuck with a client until eight am or so, and my boss is an early riser.” He paused again. “No, I don’t have any friends, actually.” He rolled his eyes at Cate. “Okay. Great. Just make sure that folder is well-hidden in my desk. Thanks.”

  Noah disconnected and put the phone back on the table. “I feel so dirty right now. And friendless.”

  Cate put her hand on his arm and raised her chin at the screen. “You’re not friendless. And look.”

  As they watched the screen, Jude pushed himself off the chair. He took his sweet time turning off the TV, grabbing his keys, and going out the door, but he left.

  A little more than thirty minutes after starting — and just as Jude locked the front door behind him — Vulcan pulled the lever and opened the heavy door of the safe, flushed with pride, which always made Cate think that the safe was his woman and he had brought her to orgasm multiple times. Vulcan barely glanced at the safe after that. He just stood up as though he had zero interest in the safe’s current contents. Figures, Cate thought.

  “Argos, what’s in the safe?”

  “A book,” he answered. “Looks like a bunch of monks took peyote and stitched the thing together during a forty-eight hour bender. Really skilled monks, though.”

  “Nothing else in there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Show me.”

  Argos gave her a better view from his camera.

  “Okay. Put on your gloves.” She had given both of them white cloth gloves to wear when
making the switch. “Replace the original with the copy. Make absolutely sure you take the original with you and leave the copy in the safe.”

  Argos put on the gloves then picked up the book like it was a bomb. He slipped it into the cloth cover Cate gave him, then placed it in a slim bag that he hooked over his shoulder. Then he took the copy from a different bag and carefully placed it in the exact same spot as the original.

  “Where’s the poem?” Cate said, almost to herself. Gaelen could be keeping it anywhere, presuming she didn’t value it as highly as the book. “Look for any file boxes in the apartment,” she told him.

  Argos shut the safe. They left the hidden room and Argos closed the bookcase wall behind them. Vulcan went into the bedroom, which wasn’t a room so much as a vaguely partitioned area with a bed. Argos looked in the living area and in the books in the bookcase wall.

  “Check inside the books,” Cate suggested.

  “Well, let’s see here …” Argos peered at the titles. “We got Successful Farming of the Transcaucasian Mole Vole, Fifth Edition. We got Building Quinzhees and Lumitalos for Fun and Survival. We got History of the Worshipful Company of Wax Chandlers. Any of these seem like decoys to you?”

  “Yes, check all of them.”

  “You reckon they’re any count?” Argos asked. Cate translated that as ‘You reckon they’re worth much?’ “Maybe she traffics in first-editions,” he added.

  “Then she’d have ones you would’ve heard of,” Cate said.

  Argos shrugged and opened every one, not finding anything.

  Vulcan pulled a banker’s box out from the closet and started to search through it, his slim fingers like a pianist’s hand as he ruffled the tabs. He pulled something out and looked at it. Argos walked over and kneeled next to Vulcan.

  “This has gotta be it,” Argos muttered to Vulcan, then held the sheets of vellum in front of the camera. “I’ve also got some notes here about a language …”

  Cate shook her head. “Damn, Gaelen. All right. Take all of that. Do you see any training materials, like a dictionary or workbook?”

  Vulcan went through the box again then pulled out a smaller letter-size box from the back end and opened it. “Væyne Zaanics Primer. Lyr.”