Authors: David Anderson
Or was there? My eyes lit on a small catch at the side of one pane. I pressed it down and pulled at the green frame around the pane. It swung open on hinges. As Zheng and Wark walked into the room, I dived through the narrow aperture. There was no time to close it behind me.
Zheng came right up to the blinds and I could see him in full profile. If he had looked in my direction we’d have been eye to eye. Instead, Emma stood behind him and he turned and gave her a cold stare.
“Why are all the blinds closed?” he demanded.
“Why are you here?” Emma replied, ignoring his question.
“Can I not visit my own property?” he said.
“This suite or me?” Emma replied.
Zheng smiled humourlessly. “Both, my dear, both. You have some explaining to do.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you,” Emma spat back.
“On the contrary, it came to my attention that you changed the lock here. Fortunately Wark noted the name on the side of the van of the locksmith you hired. I had to threaten the man with a lawsuit if he did not supply me with a new key to my own home. That was very embarrassing.”
“Too bad. And this is not your home.”
“Indeed it is, and I have a right to inspect it whenever I wish.” He moved away from the window.
Alarm bells immediately went off in my head. I wasn’t safe yet. If Zheng and Wark entered the dining room I was bound to be spotted out on this small patio. I looked around and was relieved to see bi-fold patio doors open in the warm evening. I slipped between them into the dining room. A long table occupied the middle of it and I thought about crawling in under it, but there didn’t seem to be enough room between the chairs and I’d have had to make a lot of noise moving them. To my left was a door-sized opening which I ducked through into the long, narrow kitchen. Zheng and Wark still seemed to be in the living room and I intended to get as far away from them as possible.
“I want you out of here,” I heard Emma say.
“And out of your life, no doubt,” Zheng replied. “Since I have better things to do than trade insults, you will get your wish for the former if not the latter. But only after Wark and I have had a little look around.”
I was still horribly exposed. The way the suite was laid out, anyone walking from the living room window to the front door could see into every room apart from the bedroom. That was no good to me as I was pretty sure that Zheng would go in there just to spite Emma. I made another instant decision and snuck down the hallway to the bathroom. On my way I saw my shoes on the floor beside the little table, where I’d left them. Zheng mustn’t have noticed them on his way in, but he was bound to on his way out.
There was no time to stop and pick them up. I slid my right leg across the smooth floor and with the side of my foot pushed the shoes underneath the low shelf at the bottom of the table before slipping into the bathroom. Keeping the door open a crack I was still able to hear voices, although I couldn’t see anyone.
Seconds ticked by and I became increasingly worried. My instant decision didn’t seem so clever anymore. What if Zheng came in here? I looked around the small room. Towel rail, scales, shower stall, mirror, washbasin, the usual stuff. And absolutely nowhere to hide. Footsteps approached.
“I need to check if you are maintaining the value of my property, my dear. Perhaps I shall send you one of my young maids.” Zheng was standing right outside the door.
“Don’t you need your maids for your own bedroom?” Emma replied, flinging back Zheng’s taunt, “And, I’m not your ‘dear’ anymore.”
The bathroom door moved slightly. I jumped in my skin. There was a tiny closet right behind the door, hidden away in a corner. It was my only chance. I opened its folding mirror door and groaned inwardly when I saw the shelves inside, filled with clean towels. There were a few centimetres of space between the front of the shelves and the door. It would have to do.
I squeezed in between the shelves and the door, standing on my toes and drawing in my breath to make myself as thin as possible, and pulled the mirror door towards me. I couldn’t close it fully but it came across enough to conceal me.
“Excuse me a moment, my dear.”
I heard the bathroom door open and Zheng come in. The door bashed against the closet mirror and I held it tightly so that it wouldn’t spring open and reveal me. The edges of the shelves dug painfully into my back and head, and I knew I couldn’t hold this position for much longer. Already my body was beginning to quiver and I might lose my balance any moment.
Zheng, of course, took his time. He urinated in the toilet bowl, not bothering to flush it afterwards. The taps came on and I presumed he was washing his hands.
Just
a
little
longer
.
I
only
have
to
stay
stretched
like
this
just
a
little
longer
.
A loud snorting sound almost made me topple over. Zheng was hawking phlegm from his throat. He spat in the washbasin. At long last I heard the room door open again and Zheng leave.
I let my long-held breath out, pushed the mirror door open and slumped to my knees.
Outside, I heard Zheng say, “Now just a quick look around. Wark come and help me.”
I got my breath back and cautiously opened the door. Zheng and Wark seemed to moving around in Emma’s bedroom and she was no doubt keeping an eye on them. I grabbed my shoes from under the table and opened Emma’s front door as quietly as I could.
Minutes later I ran out the front entrance of the building, past a gleaming black BMW, down to the end of the block and around the corner.
*
When I got back to the apartment I stripped off my sweat-sodden shirt, lay on the bed and eventually managed to relax. As I cooled down I thought long and hard about what had just happened and how we ought to respond to it. I grabbed my cell phone and called Emma’s number. She picked up on the second ring.
“I take it Zheng’s gone?”
“Wait,” she said. I heard a door opening and the swooshing sound of water running. She’d turned on a tap to mask the sound of our voices.
“In case those bastards left any bugs behind them,” she explained.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her, “I’ll have Charlie come by tomorrow, first thing. He’ll scan for bugs and I’ll get him to change your locks himself this time.”
“Make sure he comes incognito,” she replied, “Now that we know for sure I’m being watched.”
I got straight to the point. “I still want to see you tonight.”
“Is that wise?” she asked, sounding alarmed.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” I replied. “At first I thought we’d have to keep away from each other from now on. But if we do that I’ll never be able to pull off the heist. I need to be able to coordinate things with you, and we both need to unwind from time to time, normalise things a bit. If we let Zheng dictate our lives he’s already won.”
There was silence at her end. “OK,” she said at last, “I’d like that too. But this time I come to you. Wark could still be out there.”
“Good. Never let the bad guys triumph, eh?” I said. “Let’s meet somewhere neutral and public. We just have to be careful about it.”
“Sure, after what happened here I really want to see you too. And I’ve something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“That would be telling. You’ll find out soon enough.”
We arranged to meet inside Fifth Avenue Cinema on Burrard Street. I was pleased that she seemed just as eager to still meet up as I was, but couldn’t figure out what it was she wanted to show me. After a quick shower I put on a fresh shirt and caught a bus outside the Tim Horton’s coffee shop on Broadway.
The feature film had already started when I arrived. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness I spotted her at the end of the back row, as arranged. I crouched down and we hugged awkwardly, the fixed armrest, drinks receptacle looped on the end, badly in my way.
“Were you followed?” I asked.
“No, Wark was gone. He probably drove his master home to West Van. I was careful anyway, took a lot of sudden turns without signalling.”
I grinned. “Bet you weren’t too popular with other drivers.”
She smiled back. “True. But at least there’s no way I could have been followed, believe me.”
“What is it you want to show me?” I asked.
She rummaged in her shoulder bag and took out a small brown object. I recognised it immediately.
“Sammy!” I whispered excitedly.
“You mean Samantha,” she replied.
I gave her another hug to shut her up. Sammy was a teddy bear I’d bought her back in our UBC days. We’d been downtown, roaming about aimlessly after one of our ‘recces’ to the warehouse, and I’d found the bear in a corner shop with a ‘Closing Out’ sign in the window. Only about ten centimetres tall, dark brown, with beady little coal black eyes and a blue checkered scarf, Sammy was the best five dollars I’d ever spent. Or so I’d thought at the time. Emma’s eyes had lit up when I gave it to her.
“I kept him,” she said.
I felt myself getting emotional and was glad the place was dark. Swallowing hard, all I could think to say was, “All these years.”
We kissed and were still for a while. Eventually the big, hard armrest, pressing tightly into my side, became too painful and I moved away a little.
“This is the worst seat in the place,” she whispered.
“Let’s move,” I replied, “But don’t forget Sammy.”
“Samantha.”
We went about a third of the way up and shuffled past bony knees and enormous buckets of popcorn to two empty seats in the middle.
“This movie’s actually pretty good,” she said, when we’d settled into the red plush seats.
I hadn’t paid it the slightest attention. “Who’s in it?”
“Reese Witherspoon and Will Smith.”
I immediately lost interest and made a mental note to check the movie listings next time before I chose a cinema. Then I made a wonderful discovery – the middle armrest wasn’t fixed after all, it was hinged. I raised it and pushed it into the space between our seat backs.
“Sounds great,” I lied, “Let’s get close and watch it just like we would at home.”
Happily she agreed with that suggestion. “Good idea,” she said, snuggling up.
“Well, I always was a careful planner.”
She grinned mischievously in the flickering glow of the movie screen.
BRASS NECK
The cell phone woke me first thing the next morning. I fumbled for it on the little bedside table, light from the edges of the curtains still hurting my eyes. I expected it to be Emma, but groaned inwardly when I heard Charlie’s gruff voice instead.
“I need more footage,” he said.
“Get stuffed.” I’m not at my most verbose when sitting up in bed, wiping grit from my eyes and desperately needing a caffeine shot.
“I’ve made you a list,” he persisted, “You won’t be able to get them all at once but several walkabout trips should do it.”
“Charlie, you’re making me regret answering this call.”
“Sorry mate,” he replied, his voice softening a bit, “But I’ve analysed what you took yesterday and I need close-ups of some of the doors. Otherwise I can’t tell what types of lock they have.”
“Didn’t I get them all?” I still couldn’t believe he wanted more.
“Nope. I need a close-up of the security control room door, and also of the hallway video cameras.”
“Why?”
He snorted down the phone line. “Why?
Why
? Because I need to know their makes and models, that’s why. And I need one of the electronic card readers in the foyer.”
“OK, OK. Will do. Anything else?”
I expected him to say ‘
No
,
that’s
enough
to
be
going
on
with
,
thanks
.
’
I should have known better.
“Actually, yes, quite a lot. I don’t have enough general footage yet to understand the layout of the building. I need to draw up detailed diagrams; make my own blueprint in order to plan entrance and egress.”
“Entrance and egress? Sometimes, Charlie, you have a wonderful way with words.”
“Then there’s the garage door. You haven’t even started there yet. You’ll need to get right up close to the equipment that controls it.”
“Standing around filming in the garage could be kinda risky, Charlie.”
“Your problem, mate.”
I groaned, outwardly this time, and told him I’d do my best.
*
I picked up the hated man purse from Charlie’s place and made my way down to the Zheng Building. As I passed through the automatic doors I licked my lips and realised I needed a drink of water. My mouth tasted pasty from drinking too much wine the previous night. Wine, lots of it, had been my consolation for having to say goodnight to Emma a few minutes before the lights went up. I’d have liked to stay longer, indeed a lot longer, but it wasn’t safe and we both knew it. She left the cinema ahead of me and I spent a good ten minutes sitting in a washroom cubicle reading the graffiti on the walls, so that Wark, if he was on the prowl, would be long gone by the time I appeared on the street.
I thought about all the additional filming that Charlie had demanded. He was right, of course; he needed detailed information to do his part of the job properly. Success for all three of us depended on him doing his job properly. On the way to the building I’d stopped off at Starbucks for a double Americano and the caffeine was now sparking my previously somnambulant brain cells. An idea popped into my mind out of nowhere.
I left the man purse in the office and went back down to the foyer to look for Boylan. He was usually around first thing and sure enough I found him near the elevators, stroking his fingers through his long mane of greying hair. He obviously favoured the leonine look.
“Good morning, Mr. Boylan.”
He gave me a blank stare.
“I’m John Robie; I rented an office on the twelfth floor last week.”
I could see him fighting for recollection. “Ah, yes, imports. Diamonds, isn’t it?”
I gave him my humble-but-ambitious look. “In a small, but growing, way, yes.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Robie?”
I gave a little cough. “Well, actually I have a request. One that you may not get very often.” There was no backing out now.
“What is it?”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and tried to look moderately embarrassed. “I’m wondering if you could supply me with a copy of the building’s blueprints?”
His face darkened and I wondered if I’d just made a bad mistake. “It’s just that I’m really pleased with the facilities here, and I’m considering upgrading to a bigger office in the building in the near future.”
Boylan expression immediately relaxed. “Business must be booming, Mr. Robie.”
“Fortunately, yes. That’s why I’ll need a bigger space. The blueprints would help me decide which suite of offices would be best.”
“Suite, eh? Well, we do have some vacancies at the moment. You’re right about this being an unusual request, but I don’t see why not. I’ll have someone bring a copy of the blueprints up to your office later today.”
This was going well, but I didn’t want anyone peering into my empty office. “Thanks, you’re very helpful. I’ll be out seeing clients most of today so perhaps I could pick them up now?”
He nodded. “Sure, no time like the present. I can see why you’re doing so well. Follow me and I’ll get my staff to provide you with a copy.”
Fifteen minutes later I flopped into my office chair and spread the blueprints across the desk. Charlie would be a happy camper tonight.
*
I had a little snooze in the warm, stuffy room and woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed. My request to Boylan had been risky, but it had also effectively probed the building’s most important defences: the human ones. This place was stuffed with video cameras and alarms, but they were only as effective as the staff monitoring them. Boylan was the man in charge of those staff and he set the tone for security in the building. If a tenant could simply ask for blueprints and be given them, this showed that complacency had set in. This boded well for our chances of entering the building successfully.
Of course, there was still the matter of the vault itself. I located it on the blueprints in front of me and it didn’t look very impressive, more like a large storage closet than anything else. Around it there were other rooms that I hadn’t known about before – Charlie had been dead right about the usefulness of blueprints. Then I made an unexpected discovery. To my supreme delight, each room’s name or function was handwritten on the blueprints. I could hardly believe my luck.
I noted a workshop where staff could repair equipment, and a large storage room where unused furniture was housed. These rooms would have easily picked locks and could be used for our own purposes if necessary.
My eyes returned to the vault. I now had its exact measurements but that didn’t seem to help much. I needed to know more about its security features and, in particular, how the lock mechanism worked. Who had access to the key and where was it kept? It was time to find out.
*
I stashed the blueprints in my briefcase and went back down to the foyer. When the elevator doors opened I looked around and spotted Boylan talking to another tenant. I sidled up and gave him a nod and a smile as I passed, pleased that he’d seen me leave the building, in conformity with what I’d told him earlier.
After such a productive morning I gave myself the rest of the day off. I spent several hours wandering around downtown, enjoyed a long lunch in a mid-price Indian restaurant that served a mean beef curry, and took in a Matt Damon action movie at the Scotiabank Theatre on Burrard. After Earl Grey tea and a scone in Murchie’s it was time to go back to work.
I entered the Zheng Building at six thirty and stayed in my office until a quarter to seven, then took the elevator down to -2. There was no-one else around, which suited me perfectly. Inside the vault I fiddled around with my safe deposit box until I heard the elevator doors open at five to seven. A couple of minutes later the overnight security guard, who wore an identity badge with the name ‘Jeff D.’ on it, entered the vault.
“Closing time sir.” He sounded like a bartender calling for last orders, but looked more like a night club bouncer, muscles bulging under his short-sleeved khaki shirt.
“Thanks. I’m just finishing up.” I locked my safe deposit box and picked up my briefcase. “Wouldn’t want to get locked in here overnight.”
“Wouldn’t be very pleasant, that’s for sure.”
“Not for a claustrophobic guy like me,” I replied, as I exited the vault. I wanted to get him talking. “And I’d be sure to set off some alarm or other.”
His mouth compressed in a thin grin, but he didn’t say anything. I watched as he swung the vault door closed and picked up a huge key, about as long as my arm from fingertip to elbow. He inserted it into the door and then noticed me hanging around behind him. I had to get the first word in.
“I’m fascinated by locks and keys,” I said.
He didn’t say a word, just kept looking at me. My heart was racing.
“In fact, I collect antique keys. And that’s the biggest key I’ve ever seen.”
“Size matters,” he replied, continuing to stare at me, his hand still on the key. He certainly wasn’t a conversational genius.
“Must be hard carrying it around,” I ventured.
“It’s like this,” he began, as if a tiny infant had just asked him to explain something supremely simple, “With a key this long you can’t just tote it around in your pocket, can you? Here, take a look.” He pulled the key out of the door and showed it to me.
“See this bit here?”
I nodded, relieved that he’d finally started talking.
“It’s called the stamp, this bit at the end that operates the internal tumblers. Watch.”
He twisted it and it came off the long cylindrical stem. “This is the only bit I need to carry around. The business end as you might say. You know, the male bit.” He grinned at me inanely, as if he’d just cracked the world’s dirtiest joke.
“So you don’t need to carry that long pipe bit around at all?” I encouraged.
“Nope, it stays in there all the time, in a lockbox.” He jabbed a thumb at the storage room to the left of the vault. “It’s all very convenient.”
He put the key back together, inserted it in the door and turned it with both hands. I didn’t hear anything; the sound of the internal tumblers must have been muffled by the thickness of the steel. Then he rotated the big wheel in the middle of the door about one hundred and eighty degrees clockwise. This was silent too.
“Anchor bolts,” he said, unasked, “Eight stainless steel rods.”
“Pretty thick ones?”
“Ten centimetres each,” he replied proudly, as if he’d built them himself, “Three on the left, three on the right, and one each top and bottom.”
“Fascinating,” I said. Now that the floodgates had opened I decided to push my luck a bit farther. “Well, I’ll hold the elevator for you while you finish up.”
“Thanks,” he replied, looking dubious. “Won’t take a sec.”
He withdrew the key and walked over to the storage room, opening it with a key from a large bunch attached to his pants. I took a few quiet steps closer and heard him open a lockbox and put the key inside.
I hurried to the elevator and pressed the button. Thankfully, the doors opened instantly. I pressed my hand against the edge of one door to keep it from closing and looked back into the room. The guard was locking the storage closet.
He flicked off the lights, entered the elevator and we went up to the ground floor together.
I stood to one side and slightly behind him so as to get a good look. His hands were empty. He was wearing black pants and a short-sleeved shirt. There were only so many pockets: two in his pants at the front and two at the back; and two small breast-pockets in his shirt.
My hunch was confirmed. I would have bet my last dollar that he had no giant key stamp anywhere on his person.