The Lock Artist (13 page)

Read The Lock Artist Online

Authors: Steve Hamilton

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Crime, #General

“What are you looking for? What do you need?”

I put my fingers together and then pulled them apart, like I was holding something long and straight. Then with one hand I made a jabbing motion.

“A pin? Is that what you need?”

I gave him the thumbs-up.

“Be right back.”

People were starting to gather around me now. The music was still pounding. Beyond the burning candles in the yard it was pitch black all around us. I took another long sip from my cup.

“I found a big safety pin,” Brian said as he came back outside. “Will this work?”

I gave him the thumbs-up again. Then I took the safety pin from him, opened it, and used a pair of needle-nose pliers to bend the tip up about forty-five degrees.

“Fuckin’-A,” Brian said. “Can you really open a lock with that? What can you open, like this door over here?”

He went to the big glass sliding door, pushed a couple of people away, and then closed it. He reached into his pocket, took out his key ring, fumbled for the right key, and then put it in the lock.

“How about this one?” he said, rattling the handle to make sure it was locked tight. “Can you open this now?”

I went to the door and felt my legs creak as I knelt down by the handle. I put the cup down and looked at the lock. It was a basic, inexpensive lock. Probably just five regular straight pins. Under normal circumstances, I probably could have cracked it in under a minute, but now, using makeshift tools, with everyone watching, especially with the Sucker Punch tumbling through my bloodstream . . . I wasn’t so sure I could do it at all.

“Hey, turn off that music,” Brian said.

The music didn’t stop.

“Hey, I said turn off the fucking music! There’s an artist at work here.”

If everyone hadn’t been focused on what I was doing, they sure as hell were now. I could see them piling against the glass from the inside. I could feel them standing right behind me on the deck.

“Give him some room,” Danny said. “Let the man do his magic.”

I put the screwdriver into the lock, keeping it toward the bottom so I’d be able to reach all of the pins. I turned it just enough to feel the tension. Then I slipped the bent safety pin into the lock and went to work. I felt for the back pin, pushed it up with the pin, felt it stick in place. One down.

“Go,” Danny said. “Go . . . Go . . . Go . . . Go . . .”

Everybody joined in with him. Everybody was chanting as I worked the next pin.

“Go go go go go go go.”

I could feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck.

“Go go go go go go go go.”

I had the third pin up now. Then I felt the pin slip in my fingers. I pulled everything out and shook the tension out of my hands.

That’s when I finally saw Griffin standing in the crowd. Nadine was next
to him. Griffin had a smug smile on his face, but Nadine obviously had no idea what to make of this whole scene. I could have given up then. I could have stood up and shrugged my shoulders and given Brian his tools back. But I kept going. I gave her a little nod, and then I went back to the lock.

“Everybody be quiet,” Brian said. “You’re distracting him.”

I reset the tension and went in for the back pin, lifted it just enough, and then went on to the next. Keeping just enough tension on that screwdriver, because that’s the whole game right there. Having that touch. I blocked everything else out, the people standing all around me, the dizzy sick feeling that was building in my gut. Everything. It all faded away as I worked each pin one by one, feeling them with my fingers. Each one sliding up to just the right position until I finally came to the next one. Here’s where I’d find out if they were regular pins or something more complicated. If they were mushroom pins, they’d have that extra little notch in them and I’d have to keep the tension just right and go back and lift each pin a second time. But no. The last pin was up and the lock seemed to spring free on its own now, like it wanted to be open all along. I turned the handle and opened the door as everybody went wild all around me, screaming and carrying on like I had just defused a deadly time bomb.

It felt good. Okay? I admit it. It felt good.

“That’s awesome, man.” Brian pulled me to my feet and gave me a big slap on the back. “That’s fucking awesome.”

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Danny said. “I’m not lying to you. That was the single coolest thing ever.”

“I gotta admit,” Trey said, hitting me in the shoulder. “That was impressive. You’re like a superspy, right? You can go anywhere you want.”

Griffin was still standing at the back of the crowd, shaking his head. That same smile on his face. Nadine was gone. When I pointed to the spot next to him, he looked around the deck and shrugged.

I didn’t think she’d just leave, but hell, maybe she was mad at me for leaving her there in the beer line while I went up to the VIP Room. Or maybe I had no idea
what
she was thinking. Her or any other female in the world.

I went inside and made my way through the dining room to the front door, looking everywhere for her. I felt more people slapping me on my back. The words seemed to swirl all around me, coming too fast for me to comprehend. Then one voice broke through all the rest.

“It’s true,” the voice said. “He was clinically dead for, like, twenty minutes. That’s why he can’t talk. He’s like brain-damaged.”

I stopped. I tried to find the source of the voice, but there were too many people crushed all around me. It could have been one of a hundred people.

“Come on,” Griffin said, pushing his way through the crowd. “I think you need some air.” He grabbed me by the elbow and took me out the front door.

I almost fell off the front steps, regained my balance, and stood there blinking in the harsh glow of the porch light.

“You okay?”

I nodded.

“That was quite a show you put on. All of a sudden, you’re the prince of Milford High School.”

I looked at him like, yeah, you’ve been drinking too much beer.

“I think they’re hatching up a crazy idea. Are you up for it?”

Before he could explain, Brian, Trey, and Danny came out through the front door. Brian had taken down the huge
MILFORD KICKS ASS
banner and was rolling it up.

“We’ve got the most awesome idea, dude. You gotta help us out here. Whaddya say?”

I looked at all of them, one by one.

“Come on,” Brian said. “I’ll explain on the way.”

He led us to his Camaro, parked next to his father’s state trooper car. I couldn’t help but wonder where his father was that night, but there was no time to think about that or anything else because a few seconds later Brian was holding the back door open and waiting for us to pile in.

“Wait a minute,” he said, looking at Griffin. “We only got room for four guys here.”

“Fine,” Griffin said. “We’ll just be on our way, then.”

“Hold the phone,” Brian said. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t be taking this car anyway. It’s kind of conspicuous. You know what I mean?”

“You got a point there,” Trey said. “Everybody in town knows the House’s Camaro.”

“You guys got a car?”

So yeah. That’s how I ended up driving. Brian sat up front with me. Danny, Trey, and Griffin squeezed into the back.

“We’re just gonna play a little joke on somebody,” Brian said to me. He smoothed his hands over the rolled-up banner. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing hardcore.”

I looked in the rearview mirror, caught Griffin’s eye. He put his hands up. Like, why the hell not?

Brian told me to head to the center of town. We rolled down Main Street, past the liquor store. I was still feeling the effects of the Sucker Punch, so I ended up having to brake hard as we passed under the railroad bridge. For one moment I thought with absolute certainty that we’d hit the embankment and we’d all be killed. Then I pulled out of it just in time.

“I hate that fucking bridge,” Brian said. When we hit the edge of town, Brian told me to keep going. We were on a lonely stretch of road now, nothing but trees whizzing by us on both sides. We were heading east.

“You figured out where we’re going now?” Brian said.

I shook my head.

“There’s somebody we really need to give this banner to.”

I shook my head again.

“It’s right up here,” he said. “You’re gonna take a left.”

We came to a sign that said
WELCOME TO LAKE SHERWOOD.
This was one of the original big subdivisions, built before all the other McMansions started popping up all over the place. More importantly, being in Lake Sherwood meant that we had crossed the line that divided the school district into its two separate parts. Milford High School and Lakeland High School.

“There’s a party up there,” Trey said. “Better be cool.”

“I see it, I see it.” Brian had me stop as we came up on a line of cars parked on the street. We could see the big house with every light on and a swimming pool in the backyard. There were twenty or thirty people having a hell of a party.

“It’s right there,” Brian said, nodding to another house, directly across the street. This house was mostly dark, save for one light in the front window.

“You’re sure they’re gone?” Trey said.

“They’re up at Mackinac Island. A little graduation present for our friend Adam.”

It all made sense now. This was the house of Adam Marsh, Brian’s archrival. The one man he could never beat on the football field or on the wrestling mat.

“I don’t see any of those alarm signs on the front lawn,” Trey said. “You know what I mean? Those signs to let you know the place is wired?”

Brian didn’t answer him. He was too busy unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Underneath, he had on a dark blue T-shirt.

“So Mike,” he said. “Here’s what I want to ask you now. Do you think you can get us inside Adam’s house so we can give him this present?”

I noticed he had the screwdriver in his hand now, the one I had used to open his door. I looked closer and saw the bent safety pin in the other hand.

“We’re just going to string it up in his bedroom. So when he comes home . . . Bam! There it’ll be. A special little good-bye from his friends at Milford.”

Who couldn’t actually beat him on the football field, I thought. So this is the best they can do.

“Can you imagine?” Trey said. “He is going to shit his pants.”

“Fucking scholarship to Michigan State,” Brian said. “I
know
he does steroids. Did you see how much he grew since last year?”

“Oh, like no doubt, man. He’s juicing.”

“I’m not so sure about this,” Danny said. It sounded like he had gotten about half sobered up on the way over here. “It’s breaking and entering, isn’t it?”

“We’re not gonna rob the guy. We’re not gonna do
anything
. Just leave the banner in his bedroom.”

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Danny said. “I’m just saying.”

Nobody said anything for a minute. I tried to catch Griffin’s eye in the rearview mirror again, but he was staring out his window at the Marshes’ house. In the distance, we could hear the faint sound of the partiers splashing in the pool.

“What about you?” Brian said. “Griffin, right? You’d think I’d remember a fucking name like that. Are you gonna pussy out like Danny? Or are you with us?”

“I’m there,” Griffin said.

Brian turned around and shook Griffin’s hand. “You, sir, are officially no longer an art fag.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wizard. Do I get a diploma like the Tin Man?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Whaddya say?” Brian said, turning back to me. “Are you our man tonight? We can’t do it without you.”

“Do it for the whole school,” Trey said. “It’s our last chance to get this asshole.”

I looked out at the Marshes’ house. The high windows, the perfect lawn. It looked like a castle to me. I couldn’t even imagine living in a house like this.

I opened my door and got out of the car.

“Fuckin’-A,” Brian said.

“I’m staying here,” Danny said. “I’m not going.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Brian said as he closed his door. “We don’t need you.”

So it was the four of us. Brian, Trey, Griffin, and me. Two jocks, two art geeks. The Sucker Punch had almost worn off by now. I was feeling every step with an absolute clarity. We were about to illegally enter somebody else’s house. Somebody I had never even met.

We walked a short way down the street and then slipped behind the fence when we got to it. There were plenty of lights all over the place. Streetlights every hundred feet or so, plus all of the lights that were shining on us from the house across the street. I didn’t know enough yet not to feel exposed. I didn’t know yet that these so-called security lights meant to thwart us were actually our best friends that night. You light up the front of a house, you turn everything else that isn’t directly lighted into a perfect cloak of invisibility. You light up the back of the house, where nobody else can see you anyway, you just make it all that much more convenient for someone trying to break in.

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