by Tim Tigner
“I was thinking more along the lines of one very important person.”
Emmy gasped. “Like the president?”
“Either him or one of the major-party nominees. Now you see why we can’t run?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Now, you get back to your cleaning. I’m going to erase all the DVDs back to the time when our nocturnal friend here supposedly stepped on Ctrl-Alt-Delete. I’ll call you when I’m done so that you can distract Desiree long enough for me to get back to the Honda. Then you find an excuse to run an errand.”
“I can’t believe that we might be working to save the president,” Emmy said. “My whole life I’ve been operating in a moral gray zone, just trying to get by. Now for the first time I’m working in the white, and it’s for the president. It feels different. It feels good.”
“Let’s hope it’s the start of a new trend,” Troy said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Now get to it. We’re probably short on time.”
Troy had just finished erasing the twelfth DVD back to 2:43 AM when Luther rose from behind his desk and crossed the room to stand before his slate waterfall. A big blue Macaw watched him attentively from its perch off to the right. Why were rich people always so flamboyantly eccentric?
As Troy watched, Luther removed his jacket and scrunched up his right shirtsleeve, sending the Macaw to a new perch atop the waterfall. Then Luther plunged his hand into the water.
The flow stopped almost immediately and the slate backing slid aside. Troy found himself looking at the black iron door of a mammoth safe. No wonder Emmy had found nothing upstairs. Luther’s office safe was large enough to hold Hoover’s secret files.
He watched Luther work the combination with practiced ease. Troy could see the dial, but the camera was too far from the door for him to read the numbers. He found himself expecting to see bars of gold stacked inside, but when Luther hauled the heavy door open Troy saw only empty shelves.
Luther pulled out a metallic binder that his body had hidden from view. He opened it and made a careful entry using a thick silver pen. When he finished writing, he stared at the page as though it were the picture of a long-lost lover or firstborn child. When he finally closed the notebook, he laid it back down lovingly. Next, Luther pulled a key ring from his pocket and crouched down to reveal what appeared to be a mini refrigerator. This he unlocked with a short, round key like the ones typically used on vending machines and bicycle locks. As he swung the insulated door open, a light went on inside, confirming Troy’s initial hypothesis as to its nature.
Luther used both hands to extract a box made of the same metal as the binder. He laid it gingerly atop the refrigerator, opened the lid, and began removing small ruby-red ampoules. “There it is,” Troy said. “That’s what we’ve been looking for.
“Now all we have to do is get it.”
Luther proceeded to place the extracted ampoules into a book-sized cardboard box lined with thick foam padding. Troy counted nine ampoules total. Then Luther repeated the procedure with a second box. Once both boxes were full and sealed, he reversed the procedure to close the safe and restore the waterfall.
When Luther took the package back to his desk rather than the elevator, Troy seized the opportunity to rewind the tape with the hope of deciphering the combination using digital zoom. He paused with the cursor over the rewind button. Perhaps it would be better to just make a copy of Luther’s entire visit to the safe and interpret it later.
Using the software’s convenient drag-and-drop procedure, he burned the ten minutes from 17:42 through 17:51 off camera 15 onto a fresh DVD. Sliding that backup into his breast pocket, Troy felt a sense of accomplishment. Now even if the shit hit the fan he would not leave empty handed.
Checking the monitor, Troy saw that Luther was still at his desk. He decided to attempt to decipher the combination while all the equipment he needed was at hand.
Troy had the first four digits of the combination scrawled on a notepad when he looked up to see that screens 15 and 16 were both dark. Luther had left his office.
That was when he remembered that he still had four DVDs to erase.
Praying that the DVD in his pocket contained the same high-definition video as the original, Troy forgot about the tape he was watching and began furiously erasing the remaining hard drives back to 2:43 that morning. Questions cascaded through his mind as he worked, but his surgical fingers did not fumble. How long ago had Luther left? Was he coming straight home? Did he carry a gun? Troy knew he should call Emmy to warn her, but he could not risk the time. Besides, she was just cleaning. There was no harm in Luther catching her doing that. Troy was the one out on a limb.
It took him seven minutes to erase the remaining four DVDs back to 2:43 AM. Then he simply turned off the computer. The DVD recorders’ green diodes extinguished along with the computer monitor. The wall monitors showing Emmy and Desiree remained lit. Apparently they were part of a separate system.
“Now for the finishing touch,” he said, slipping a peanut butter cookie into Rocky’s box. With the rat’s mouth gainfully engaged, Troy pulled Rocky out and set him on the table. Then he inverted the box and shook it over the keyboard. Several rat pellets dropped out. Two landed on the desk and the third wedged between the F and R keys. This simple ruse probably wouldn’t fool Sherlock Holmes, but Troy did not expect Luther to bring in a forensic consultant. As the lawyer himself would put it, this was enough for reasonable doubt.
Reassuring himself that the safe-cracking DVD was in his pocket, he stood just as monitor one lit up and Luther’s black Porsche approached the gate. Talk about cutting it close. He tossed Rocky another cracker to keep him distracted, and slid out the door. He used Emmy’s tension wrench to re-secure the bolt and then picked up his phone to give her a call. Now, all he had to do was make it out the back door and into the Honda unobserved.
Chapter 76
Tips
EMMY’S CELL PHONE finally began to vibrate. Troy had taken much longer than she’d expected. She moved out of Desiree’s earshot and brought the phone to her ear.
“I’m ready,” Troy said. “And I’ve got what we need.” He sounded excited.
“You can’t come up yet. Desiree is rearranging the pantry near the top of the stairs. It’s almost as though she knows you’re down there.”
“Luther just pulled through the gate. Think of something.” Troy hung up.
Emmy walked back toward the pantry, thinking fast. Inspiration tended to strike her on the fly, and her muse did not let her down today. “Have you got a minute, Desiree? I’d love to get your opinion on something.”
Desiree looked silently down on her from a step stool. It was a gaze meant to intimidate.
Emmy was unaffected. She was used to talking up to people who tried to use their relative height to tactical advantage. And as a psychic she was accustomed to dealing with skeptics. The trick in both cases was to alter the antagonist’s perspective. Right now Desiree saw her as competition for Luther’s affection. “It will just take a minute. While dusting I noted that Mr. Kanasis has a nice collection of Swiss chronographs. One of them is the same model Breitling that I was planning to get my fiancé for his birthday. I’d love a second opinion.”
The effect on Desiree was instantaneous. She brightened up and said, “Sure.” But as her first foot hit the floor she paused and asked, “You’re getting him a Breitling, and he hasn’t gotten you a ring?”
“Oh, I got the ring. Two carats. But I’m not about to wear it here. I learned in my waitressing days that men treat you much better when they think you’re available.”
Desiree’s smile returned and she finished her descent. “They still don’t treat you all that well.”
“You’re right about that.”
They had just reached the top of the sweeping semicircular staircase when the front door opened. Emmy felt as though an icy hand had gripped her heart. Had Troy made it out in time? “Maybe tomorrow,” she whispered to Desiree as they both t
urned to greet their master.
“What are you two ladies up to?” Luther asked, depositing his keys in a vase on a knickknack shelf to the left of the door. Although his tone telegraphed lighthearted banter, Emmy detected suspicion in his eyes.
“Desiree has just been giving me some tips on your preferences,” Emmy said. “She’s been very helpful.”
“Glad to hear it,” Luther replied, a penetrating look in his eyes. “Why don’t you join me for a drink, Vicky. You can tell me about your first day and I can give you all the tips you need.”
Chapter 77
Accommodation
FARKAS PUSHED OPEN the stairwell door with a little too much vigor. It slammed into the cinderblock wall and ricocheted back at him, but he stepped through in time to avoid its ire. His first day in “management” was not going well. Time to bring Luther into the loop.
Luther answered on the second ring. “How’s it going?”
“Neanderthals. Your business associate sent us Neanderthals.”
“All of them?”
“I’ve seen eight so far. You wouldn’t trust any of these guys with your dry cleaning, much less 456.”
Luther paused as though winded, confirming Farkas’s suspicion that this was bad news on several levels. “What did you tell them?”
“Not a word about the plan, that’s for sure. As soon as it became clear that I’d eaten meals with more brainpower, I pretended to receive a call telling me that the job had been called off. I acted all pissed and gave each guy ten grand for his time and his tongue as agreed. But hey, for what it’s worth, your plan of alternating the meetings between the sixth and seventh floors worked like a charm. No one suspected that this would have been more than a two-man op.”
“Swell.”
“I take it you went this route due to a lack of alternatives?” Farkas asked.
Luther prevaricated with a collegial, “How about you? Know any talent?”
“Farkas means wolf in Hungarian. Like my namesake, I work alone.”
“Maybe number nine will work out. Maybe he’ll have friends.”
“Maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass and do the job for us, Luther, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
“You sure you went to med school?”
“You sure you’re an officer of the court?”
After another long pause, Luther said, “Tell me something. How many people do you really need to do the job?”
“Nine people, one city, forty-eight hours … If I had four people, each could do one a day and I could pick up the ninth.”
“What if it was just you and two others?”
“Three apiece … yeah, that should be possible with enough planning.”
“Two weeks good enough?”
“If they’re good people.”
“You’re being awfully accommodating.”
“I want my ten million bucks.”
“Glad to hear it. I want to give it to you. In the meantime, go ahead with your last meeting. Maybe we’ll get lucky. In either case, I want you to come back to LA when you’re done. We’ll finish the recruiting here.”
“You sound like you have someone in mind.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Chapter 78
Craps
“SO THIS IS THE FAMOUS RODEO DRIVE,” Troy said. “I’d expected Chanel No 5, but this smells more like Eau de Armpit.”
“This isn’t Rodeo Drive,” Emmy said. “This is the alley behind Rodeo Drive. Now, do you want to let me know why you’re interested in the fashion boutique three doors down from Kanasis rather than Kanasis itself?”
Troy turned from his appraisal of the back wall toward his co-conspirator. Boy did she look good in black. “According to the sticker in their front window, Balthazar uses the same security company as Kanasis. I figure it’s perfect for a dry run.”
“Uh-huh. And that mysterious black box I saw you slip into your backpack; you going to tell me what that’s all about?”
“The Y400? According to Pedro-the-Procurer, it blocks the full commercial spectrum of cell phone transmissions within a two hundred foot radius.”
“And you think that’s going to keep the armed response away when we key into Kanasis?”
“Pedro wasn’t sure if the full commercial spectrum included the frequencies used by security companies. That’s why we’re going to try it out here first, just to be sure.”
“Well, be quick about it. Luther expects me to be on hand to greet his guests when they arrive at ten.”
“Is that all he expects—the sight of your pretty face and a few welcoming words?” Troy had been so busy preparing for tonight that they had hardly spoken since the close call in Luther’s security room.
“That’s what he said. He is very image conscious, and a pretty maid answering his door exemplifies his preferred persona.”
“Well, if the next few minutes go as planned, then the only people opening Luther’s door from now on will be foul-breathed federal employees with sadistic streaks and penchants for sodomy.” Of course, if the next few minutes went badly, Troy and Emmy would be the ones going to prison, but he left that caveat unsaid.
Highly motivated by both carrot and stick, he used a dumpster and then a drainpipe to climb quickly atop the two-story building. Troy wanted to put the Y400 beside the alarm’s antenna to maximize its jamming effect, but he found only air-conditioning equipment. Aware that the clock was ticking, he planted the jammer atop the air handler’s fuse box and climbed back down.
“My cell phone is drawing a blank,” Emmy said. “That’s a good sign.”
Troy shook his head. “The only good sign is no sign of Atlas Security.”
“How are you planning to test the alarm—put a brick through the window?”
“Something a bit more surgical. Come see for yourself.”
All the businesses on North Rodeo Drive were closed at this hour, leaving the street relatively deserted. A group of young tourists meandered loudly about, drinks in hand, but at the moment they were clustered across the street, taking pictures before the entrance to Ralph Lauren.
“Keep a discreet eye on them,” Troy said, checking to ensure that his cell phone was still searching as they approached Balthazar’s front door. He pulled a long thin white clown’s balloon from his pocket, secured the neck to a manual pump and gave it just enough wind to make it rigid. Then he pushed the balloon through the brass mail slot and finished the inflation. Fixing his eyes on the motion detector’s green diode he released the neck of the balloon, sending it in a spiraling flight around the store until at last it came to rest on the shoulder of a black-clad mannequin.
The diode turned red.
Pleased with the result he said, “Whoever finds that in the morning is going to wonder what goes on after hours at Balthazar.”
“Not here,” Emmy replied. “This is Hollywood.”
Troy linked his arm through hers. “Let’s walk toward Santa Monica Boulevard to wait for the response that we hope won’t come.”
They did—and it did.
In just five minutes.
“That was quick,” Emmy said.
“Yeah. So much for the Y400 and that thousand bucks. Pedro doesn’t have a return policy.” In Miami they had pocketed a pretty penny by pawning Emmy’s engagement ring, but that money was running short. Troy still remembered the number from the AmEx card he had always used, but was keeping it as an emergency reserve. Credit cards put you on the grid.
He watched over Emmy’s shoulder as a security car screeched to a halt before Balthazar and three armed men burst out. Two of the guards drew their guns and converged on Balthazar’s entrance while the third sprinted for the smelly alley. “They’re using the same tactics my Special Forces unit did when clearing buildings in Afghanistan. Must be ex-military.”
“Judging by the way they move,” Emmy said, “one has to wonder if they sit on the edge of their chairs all night, drinking Red Bull and waiting for the horn.” Once t
hey disappeared inside, she added, “What’s plan B?”
“You’ll see,” Troy said, extracting a handkerchief and two small atomizers from his backpack. “Once they leave.”
She gave his tools the once over and then said, “I can’t wait more than fifteen minutes. If we haven’t opened Luther’s safe by then, I’m going to have to go back. If I’m not there when Luther’s guests arrive, he might get suspicious, look around, and notice that his keys are missing.”
“That reminds me,” Troy said. “Did you manage to turn the contrast to black on Luther’s security monitors?”
“Numbers fourteen through sixteen.”
“Great. And don’t worry. It shouldn’t take them long to clear a small fashion boutique.”
The three guards emerged a few seconds later, no doubt having already reported a false alarm. Troy and Emmy began walking toward Kanasis as soon as the Atlas Security Jeep pulled away.
Emmy unlocked the door with Luther’s key and Troy pulled the handle. “It’s still locked,” he said, checking the crack between frame and door for bolts. “Are you sure you turned the key all the way.”
As Emmy said, “I’m sure,” the door yielded to Troy’s tug. “There’s some kind of an electromagnetic lock in place. I’m not sure what that means, but it can’t be good.”
The alarm keypad began to beep and glow yellow. Troy went to work with the handkerchief and spray bottles. “First we give it a cleaning with some good old Windex … then once it’s clean and dry … we give it a thorough misting with bottle number two.”
“What does bottle number two do?” Emmy asked.
“It’s a micro-granulated tacky powder that fluoresces under black light.”
“You don’t say.”
Mid-way through the misting the beeping turned frantic and then flatlined. The keypad began to flash red. “Sixty-seconds,” Troy said. “Not bad. I was afraid we might only get thirty. Let’s go.”
