“But for how much longer?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? Am I a doctor?” Pruitt’s eyes darkened and his lips curled into a fierce grimace. “Look, this clown forced me to do what I did. He could’ve made things easy, but the damn idiot tried putting up a fight. He’s just lucky I didn’t blow his damn head off. And any of you would’ve done the same.”
Lowenstein swallowed back a comment regarding that and instead let the matter drop. With Pruitt grabbing the man’s feet and Lowenstein taking hold of the man from around his chest, the two of them proceeded to carry him inside while Willis moved the car so it would be with the others. It was a little after eight, and they weren’t supposed to be reporting to Landistone’s house until eleven, so when Willis joined them in the office, they switched the game to five-card stud and kept it up until ten thirty. Early on, Pruitt had seemed tightly wound, slamming his cards down when he lost a hand and swearing angrily, but by the time they were ready to leave, he had mostly calmed himself down.
They were all already in their guard uniforms and Lowenstein had earlier handed out their fake badges. They staggered their leaving so that they’d be driving away from the warehouse separately instead of in a convoy. Lowenstein left first and three minutes later Willis followed. By the time Willis left, the security guard Pruitt had worked over still hadn’t regained consciousness, which had the chance of making the job already a capital felony. Once they were finished with the job they were going to have to come back to check on him. If he was dead or didn’t seem likely to make it, they were going to have to dispose of the body in a way so that the police wouldn’t be able to find it. Or at least, Lowenstein, Pruitt, and Hack would. It didn’t much matter to Willis. If the police ever picked him up he was a dead man regardless.
Back in the van, Willis unscrewed the silencer from his .40-caliber pistol. If he needed to use a gun in Landistone’s home, it didn’t matter how much noise it made. In fact, the more noise the better to help get the situation under control. He also dug out his 9mm Glock from under the driver’s seat, pulled out the magazine, checked that it was fully loaded, then snapped it back in place. He had three extra clips, which would give him more than enough firepower for the job, unless things went completely to hell.
The twenty-minute drive from East Orange to Short Hills was uneventful. A short, stocky and very well-dressed man stood outside the door frowning at Willis as he stopped the van parallel to him. The man, mostly bald with a fringe of gray hair surrounding a very pink scalp, had Willis show him his security badge, and then after scowling at the badge and checking the name on it against a sheet of paper that he had, he directed Willis where to park, which was around the house and next to where Lowenstein had already parked his car. As Willis was walking back to the front entrance, Hack had also arrived and was showing the same man his badge. The man indicated to Willis to wait inside the house by the front door. Willis did so and stood by Lowenstein, neither of them acknowledging each other. A minute later, Hack joined them, and several minutes after that Pruitt and the thick-bodied man who had checked their badges also entered the house. He introduced himself as Colin Haywirth, Landistone’s private secretary.
“Let me give you men the layout,” he told them. He lifted a thick arm and squinted at a silver Rolex. Willis caught the flash in Pruitt’s eyes and knew that Pruitt was already planning to relieve Haywirth of his watch sometime before the completion of their planned heist for The Dame. “It’s now two minutes to eleven,” Haywirth continued after clearing his throat. “At noon, a priceless oil painting will be delivered to this residence. At seven tonight, there will be an invitation-only dinner party here where the painting will be showcased. The party is scheduled to end by eleven o’clock. Shortly after that, the painting will be picked up by an armored vehicle service, and once the painting is secured in this vehicle, your assignment here will be completed.”
“Do you have a list of people attending the party?” Willis asked, playing the part of a genuine security guard. “Also a list of who’s in the house now?”
Before Haywirth could answer him, he was interrupted by the arrival of another man. He was in his fifties and even more smartly and expensively dressed than Haywirth. With his full head of salt and pepper hair, bronzed tan, carefully manicured features, thick shoulders, and narrow waist, he reminded Willis of the typical moneyed candidate who’d been bred for high political office. Willis knew the man had to be Jonah Landistone, especially with the way the man clapped Haywirth on the shoulder, then winked at all of them and smiled in a manner that only the privileged are capable of, as if they’d all been close friends since childhood. “So,” the man said, “these are the security experts who will be protecting my latest acquisition?”
“Yes, Jonah,” Haywirth said, his expression turning dour. “I’m going over today’s schedule with them now.”
“Good, good.” Landistone’s interest in them faded quickly. He had put in his fifteen seconds with the hired help and that was enough. With a false smile in place and his attention diverted elsewhere, he added, “This is an important piece of art. Really, an important piece of history. I’ll be counting on all of you.”
Landistone gave them all a serious look before wandering off. Haywirth waited until his boss was out of sight before telling them that the guest list for that night had forty-eight names on it. “I’ll be handling greeting each guest myself,” he said. “If someone shows up who shouldn’t be here, I’ll give a signal for one or more of you to intervene.”
“We also need a list of who’s in the house now,” Willis said, reminding him of his earlier request.
Haywirth looked pained, as if he didn’t want to bother answering the question. Grudgingly, he told them that outside of himself and Landistone, there were four household staff members, three associates of Landistone’s, and Landistone’s wife. “Several members of the museum board will be coming over later this afternoon,” Haywirth added. “Also the caterers will be arriving at three o’clock. That should pretty much be it.”
“We’ll search the house now,” Lowenstein said.
Haywirth turned to face him, puzzled. “What for?”
“What for? We need to make sure that no suspicious characters have already snuck into the house, waiting for the arrival of that painting.”
Chapter 7
Haywirth gave Lowenstein a look as if what he was asking was preposterous. “That won’t be necessary,” he said bluntly.
“It’s standard procedure,” Lowenstein said, “If you want I can have you speak to our boss, but there are certain precautions that we are required to take, and one of them is verifying the residence has not already been compromised.” Lowenstein turned to Willis and told him to search the upstairs, and that he’d take the basement.
“I said that won’t be necessary,” Haywirth insisted curtly. “Mr. Landistone would like you to stay on this level and not be wandering his house.”
“If you want to accompany us, we can do it that way,” Willis said. “But it needs to be done, otherwise we’ll be packing up.”
Haywirth wasn’t happy about it, but he gave in and told Willis he’d go with him first. He said to Lowenstein, “You stay put until I come back down.”
“Fine with me,” Lowenstein said.
Haywirth led the way from the foyer where they were standing, through a living room that could’ve been a small wing to a modern art museum all by itself, and then up a curved staircase framed by rich mahogany hand railings. Once on the second level, Haywirth kept close tabs on Willis as he searched through five bedrooms, an office, and three bathrooms. Willis made a show of checking the closets of each room and other possible hiding areas, but all he cared about was knowing how many people were up there and where they were, and all he encountered was a maid who was cleaning one of the bathrooms. The last room he checked turned out to be a yoga studio, and that was where he found Landistone’s wife and a private yoga instructor. The yoga instructor was in his ea
rly thirties and was lean and muscular and very wholesome looking with his long blond hair pulled into a pony tail. Willis made a mental note that they were going to have to be careful with him. Not only did he look athletic, but he also seemed the type who’d try to play the hero and get his head blown off in the process. He also had interest in Landistone’s wife as more than simply a student. That was evident from the way he was looking at her when Willis and Haywirth walked in on them, and also in the way he was holding her hips as he adjusted her position. Willis couldn’t blame him. While the instructor was dressed appropriately in a tee shirt and long gym pants, the woman was naked and was an absolute knockout, and her own long, golden hair was also pulled into a pony tail. Her body was slender and nicely toned, and while on the thin side, still had the perfect amount of curves. All of her features seemed almost too perfect, as if she must’ve had plastic surgery to give her just the right nose, cheekbones, and chin, but Willis guessed it was only that she’d been blessed with exceptional genes. The only thing Willis was surprised about was her breasts. They were nice breasts with a perkiness to them, but they were small, and Willis would’ve guessed that Landistone would’ve wanted his shiny, trophy wife to have had much bigger ones.
If she was embarrassed or upset about having strangers walk in on her naked yoga session, she didn’t show it. She made no attempt to cover up, but instead remained in her yoga posture, her concentration remaining fully intact on what she was doing. Willis didn’t know anything about yoga, but the position she was in looked difficult as she stood on one leg with the other leg straight up in the air. One hand held the raised ankle while the other arm pointed straight out. As she did that, the instructor stood behind her with his hands holding her hips. When they first entered the room, Willis caught a glimpse of hunger in the instructor’s eyes, and then a flash of embarrassment as he realized they were being intruded on. The two of them remained like that for several minutes, all the while Landistone’s wife appearing to be oblivious to Willis and Haywirth. Finally, she got out of the pose and gave Haywirth a disdainful look. She made no attempt to reach for a nearby towel to cover herself.
“Colin,” she said, her tone as icy and withering as the look she gave him, “have you enjoyed standing there gawking at me?”
Haywirth’s face reddened. “I’m sorry for barging in like this, Alicia, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Of course not. Not when you have an excuse to walk in on me. Go ahead, explain to me why you’re bothering me and who this man is.” Her expression turned wicked. “Or is it simply that Jonah sent you up here to get a cheap thrill?”
Haywirth’s face reddened even more. He explained that Willis was part of a security detail brought in to protect the painting and that he needed to search each room. She smirked at that, but didn’t respond otherwise. Now that she was standing facing them instead of twisted on one leg with the other straight up like an arrow, Willis could see from the carefully groomed patch of hair between her legs that her natural hair color was the same golden yellow, and that it wasn’t a dye job. Haywirth had begun to stammer and Willis cut him off and told her that he needed to secure the premises before the painting was brought to the house. “You didn’t tell me about this person,” Willis said to Haywirth, referring to the yoga instructor.
“Sorry,” Haywirth croaked out, badly showing his discomfort. “I had no idea he was here.” He tried to force an apologetic smile that didn’t quite stick. “Or Alicia, for that matter.”
Willis pointed to a gym bag lying in the corner of the room and asked the yoga instructor if it was his. The man nodded, confused.
“I need to search it for weapons,” Willis said.
“Be my guest.”
Willis continued to play the role of an anal retentive security guard, and went through the motions of searching the gym bag, all the while Landistone’s wife looked on with a mix of annoyance and amusement, maybe even a touch of desire when her eyes caught his. From the way she looked at him, he felt almost as naked as she was. Once he was done, he and Haywirth left the room and Landistone’s wife and her instructor continued on with their private yoga session.
“An attractive woman,” Willis commented.
Haywirth nodded, his face still a deep red. He cleared his throat and muttered out that she was quite a free spirit.
Willis wouldn’t have put it that way, but he was too busy thinking of the complications those two were going to cause. He’d bet even money that the instructor would try playing the hero later to rescue his very naked and drop-dead gorgeous client who he badly wanted to bed. Willis had to hope they would finish their session before the robbery, and that she’d put on some clothes by then. The type of distraction she could cause certainly wouldn’t help the job. On their way down the stairs, Willis told Haywirth that they would need a full accounting of all weapons on the premises, and Haywirth agreed, and told him he’d get that from Landistone.
Later, when Willis was able to catch up with Lowenstein, he gave him the situation upstairs which only caused the large man to chuckle. “Damn, I knew I should’ve taken the upstairs instead,” Lowenstein said, his voice guarded in case anyone walked in on them. “They’ve got a security system downstairs that’s taking feeds from surveillance cameras throughout the house. I had one of the household staff show it to me, but my lousy luck, we didn’t pick that room to spy on. From what I can tell, the video goes to a hard drive, so we’ll take the computer with us. Hopefully the video is not going offsite. If it is, it is. Nothing we can do about it, and probably won’t matter since we’re leaving all of them alive which will leave plenty of witnesses to try to identify us. But we’ll still shut it down before the robbery. I’ll get Hack to take care of it.” He started chuckling some more, his belly bouncing under his security guard outfit. “I wonder if the wife knows about the surveillance cameras? She better be damn careful where she bangs her yoga boyfriend.”
Pruitt wandered over a short time later to give them the count that he’d come up with, his voice tight with the anticipation of violence and a touch of craziness shining in his eyes. “None of them should be giving us any trouble,” he said with almost a note of dejection over that prospect. After that, they took their posts as if they were genuinely working security with Hack downstairs by the security monitor, Pruitt standing guard by a back doorway, Lowenstein doing the same at the front entrance, and Willis standing outside the room where the painting was going to be unveiled. Haywirth came over to Willis shortly afterward to let him know that there was one weapon on the premises—a .38-caliber pistol that Landistone kept locked up in his master suite. Haywirth hemmed and hawed for a moment, then asked Willis whether he’d back him up later that nothing improper happened upstairs if the issue came up.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Willis said.
Haywirth looked like he could’ve used some additional reassurance, but he nodded grimly and walked off. At a quarter to noon, three additional people from the museum arrived, and then precisely at noon an armored vehicle arrived with The Dame. Two armed guards brought the painting to the house, delivered it to Landistone, waited first until two of the museum people removed the painting from the crate it had been packed in, and then for Landistone to examine it before leaving. From the glimpse Willis was able to catch of it, he couldn’t tell what the big deal was, and certainly had no idea why it would be worth millions, but then again, he knew less about art than he did about yoga. The dame in the painting wasn’t particularly attractive. A chubby, very pale woman with long flowing red hair decked out in an expensive silk dress and lots of jewelry. But while it didn’t impress Willis very much, Landistone and the museum people all made a fuss over it. A couple of Landistone’s household staff members were in the process of positioning it in its place of honor for that night’s unveiling when Lowenstein came into view to let Willis know that the armored vehicle had left. That was Willis’s signal to head upstairs. They needed to neutralize whoever was upstairs before they round
ed up and took control of the rest of the house. Hack would be watching over the surveillance monitor and once the second floor was taken care of, he’d be joining the other crew members to finish the job.
Before Willis could move from his post, Haywirth wandered over to ostensibly talk about the guest list that night and whether or not they should set up metal detectors in case anyone tried bringing guns into the house, but his real reason was to make sure Willis would back him up in case Landistone’s wife leveled accusations against him. That left Willis stuck where he was, which meant either Lowenstein or Pruitt had to take care of Landistone’s wife and whoever was still up on the second floor with her. From his vantage point, Willis wouldn’t have known whether the yoga instructor had left or not. He hoped he had. He also hoped Lowenstein would take care of it and not send Pruitt upstairs.
Three minutes later, there was a loud thumping noise from above—the type of noise that a body would make if it hit a wood floor hard enough—followed by a short burst of a woman screaming. The upstairs hallways, bedrooms, and office were all covered with enough thick and plush carpeting that you could’ve dropped a bowling ball without hearing anything. The yoga studio, though, had a polished wood floor. Haywirth looked startled as he turned toward the source of the noise, as did the crowd around the painting. Before Haywirth could move any further, Willis grabbed him by his suit jacket with both hands and swung him into the room with the painting so that the stocky man landed on his back. With one hand, Willis grabbed his ski mask out of an inside jacket pocket and with his other pulled his 9mm Glock from a holster, training the gun on Landistone as he slipped the ski mask on. While he’d been showing his face for the past hour, he’d done so as a menial worker. Most of them, including Haywirth, probably hadn’t made the effort earlier to pay close attention to what he looked like. Now they would.
“All of you, on your stomachs now,” Willis ordered. A few of them started moving slowly to their knees, a couple of them, including Landistone, didn’t move at all. They looked at him as if it was some sort of prank and not real. Willis ran to the closest of them that was still staring at him with a bemused expression, which was one of Landistone’s business associates, and hit the man hard across the jaw with the gun barrel, both knocking him to the floor and opening up a large gash. That caused the rest of them to move faster. Moments later, Hack brought two members of the household staff into the room from a different doorway, then Lowenstein followed behind him pushing another member of the household staff into the room. Lowenstein and Hack also wore ski masks.
The Interloper Page 11