John looked on, silently amused, knowing Lance liked to get Adam’s goat whenever he could. He figured Adam would get his shot in at some point during the evening. Things were always more interesting when these two got together.
Adam didn’t have any chance to question Lance during the rest of dinner. He knew what Lance meant. That had to be where the Lilly Belle was now residing. Rats! Why couldn’t the train be here in Southern California, he groused to himself.
While Margaret and John were busy choosing dessert, Lance again leaned over to Adam. “Invitation only.”
“You get an invitation?”
“Couldn’t.”
“Crud!”
“Adam!” Margaret cried, looking around, embarrassed. “We are in a lovely, public place, son. Mind your manners!”
“Yes’m.” Adam swallowed the next word on the tip of his tongue. She would have liked that one even less.
Now John was curious. He knew the two boys were spending a lot of time together lately because Scott had mentioned it during their earlier golf game. But the ‘why’ and the ‘where’ hadn’t come up. It was obvious Adam didn’t like some news Lance had just given him. And it was equally obvious Adam was trying to master his ‘nothing-is-wrong’ face but wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Well, he and Margaret were available if either of the boys needed to talk. Adam was pretty good about confiding in them if he needed to. But, judging from Adam’s reaction just now, he figured it would be Lance who would be more apt to talk than Adam. Yes, Adam was a chip off the old blockhead, as his mother was fond of saying.
After getting good-bye hugs from Margaret and John and a promise to come out to the house again soon, Lance happily walked to Adam’s truck. “What a nice dinner!” Anyone would have thought he had been invited all along. “You know, you really should control your language around your mother, Adam. She really doesn’t appreciate that kind of talk.”
Adam muttered something under his breath as he unlocked the Silverado.
“Ooh, she wouldn’t have liked that one at all.” Lance grinned as Adam slid into the driver’s seat. “So, when do you want to take our road trip?”
Adam leaned his head tiredly against the headrest and groaned. ”I knew you were going to say something like that. I don’t suppose there’s any way around it.”
“Only if you don’t want to find the next clue.”
“Yeah. I also suppose you already have it mapped out.”
“Of course. It will take about six and a half to seven hours to drive to San Francisco. I have the location of the warehouse where all the memorabilia is stored.”
Frowning, Adam’s head came up. “Warehouse? Aren’t we going through the relatives?”
Lance leaned against the side of the truck. “Think about it for a minute, Adam. We ask permission. We are escorted into the building. We are watched while we look at the train. We are escorted out of the building. When exactly do you see us getting anywhere close to the Lilly Belle with a screwdriver?”
“Yeah, okay, I see your point. And I don’t suppose even you could distract them long enough for me to accomplish whatever it is we need to do with a screwdriver.” He expelled a breath. “So, it sounds like we have to go into the building ourselves.”
Lance just nodded slowly.
“Any ideas on how?”
Lance continued to nod. He looked like one of those little dogs in the back window of a car. “I have an idea, yes, but I need to work on it some more. I’ll do that while you’re at work Monday. Hopefully we can leave Tuesday or Wednesday.”
Adam gave a laugh. “Seems like we always leave on Wednesday.”
“Well,” Lance stood away from the truck as Adam started the engine, “it’s worked well for us so far. Let’s hope our luck holds out.”
Adam’s window opened after he slammed his door shut. His face was very serious as he looked at Lance. “You do realize we’re talking about ‘breaking and entering’, right?”
Lance looked over toward Disneyland. The firework show had just started. “Let’s just hope we don’t break anything and it is just ‘entering’.”
Adam gave a small smile. “I’m sure the judge who throws us into jail will consider that.”
“Good thing I know a bunch of lawyers.” Lance gave a wave over his shoulder as he headed for his car. Too bad they’re all related to me—and on less-than-friendly terms.
Monday evening found Adam in an empty furniture store that had been converted into an extreme sports training facility. He and Lance were strapped into harnesses that went around their legs and waists with hooks in the middle of their backs and stomachs. Those hooks were attached to ropes that dangled from the three-story-high ceiling. At the moment, they dangled about twenty feet up in the air, suspended over huge cushioned mats in case the beginners slipped.
Lance bobbed comfortably about ten feet away from Adam. Adam didn’t fare so well. He had played out the rope through the figure-8 ring, but apparently had done something wrong. Again.
“Why are you upside down?” Lance didn’t even bother hiding the smile on his face since, from Adam’s current position, he couldn’t see it. “You’re leaning back too far.”
Adam saved his energy by not answering. He pushed against the loops holding his feet and moved the metal ascender up a little. Struggling, he got back into the correct sitting position. Breathing hard from the effort, he glared at Lance. “Why is everything so easy for you?”
“Superior breeding?”
Adam let that go and played out some of the line, lowering another foot.
Impatient, the instructor Hans gave an order. “Now go back up to the top and start over.”
Adam watched Lance alternate pushing with his feet, sliding his ascender higher with each step. It was called a ‘Frog Rig’ because of its resemblance to a frog’s kicking motion. When Lance got to the top, he leaned back and used his descender friction device to drop steadily to the ground. He stopped within a foot of the cushioned mat and looked expectantly at Adam, waiting.
“Very good, Lance. Adam, you want to get started. Tonight?” Both Hans and Lance had failed to mention to Adam that Lance had been there most of the morning learning and practicing.
Adam struggled to get the right rhythm for a smooth ascent. It was getting easier, but it was tiring.
“That’s better.” Hans raised his voice as Adam neared the top of the rope. “Now lean back and relax your legs. Not so far. That’s right. Play the rope through. A little faster would be good.…”
Adam finally got to the same level as Lance. Lance was swinging side to side. “You know, Adam, we could get personal lifters to attach to the harnesses. Clip it on the rope, push the button, and you’re there.”
“Really? Those sound good. Why are we doing this?”
“Because they’re about $8,000 each.” Lance watched Adam’s face fall. “Besides, you should know how to do it correctly anyway. If the batteries gave out you would still have to do it manually.”
Adam sighed. “I knew you would come up with a reason. Are we done? My arms and legs are killing me.”
Hans walked across the cushion to where they were dangling. “Yes, you are done for tonight. Now I want you to correctly remove yourselves from the ropes. Tomorrow you will feel more confident.”
“Tomorrow?” Adam gave a groan. “Thought we were done.”
Hans shrugged. He had already been paid for two lessons. “You don’t have to practice. But there’s less risk if you learn how to climb and drop properly and safely. One lesson usually isn’t enough. It’s up to you.”
“See you tomorrow, Hans.” Lance looked over as they were leaving. “Why are you limping, Adam? Gees, I thought you construction guys were tough.”
Adam sank gratefully into the soft gray leather seat of the Mercedes. “If I could lift my arm, I would punch you.”
Lance just laughed as they pulled out of the parking lot.
By ten o’clock Wednesday morning, the twosome were
heading north on the I-5 freeway. The final destination had been programmed into the nav system and the helpful female voice that had been telling them unneeded turn-by-turn directions on getting out of Los Angeles was now quiet. Heading through the mountains, they finally dropped down the Grapevine into the long, fertile San Joaquin Valley. The land was flat and dry as they continued to head north, passing towns like Bakersfield and Los Banos. The Sierra Nevada Mountains off to the right became more obscure the farther north they traveled. The Coast Range was off to their left and they would cut through those hills once they reached the 580 freeway, heading toward the ocean.
When Adam tired of playing ‘Guess the Crop’ by himself, he asked Lance if he had brought everything they would need.
Lance had been humming along with the radio, occasionally checking his mirrors for traffic. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. I think so. I know you have the proper screwdriver and those little screws.” Adam nodded. “I have the climbing equipment, flashlights, face masks, gloves, grappling hook, fake license plates, layout and design of the warehouse, security system layout—which is pretty minor considering the value of the artifacts, motel reservations, and a dinner reservation in Ghirardelli Square for tonight at 7:00. I think that covers everything.”
“Back up a minute.… Grappling hook and fake license plates? What are those for?”
Lance sighed. “Really, Adam, you can be so dense sometimes.…”
He broke off when the nav system told him the turnoff for the west I-580 was coming up in one mile. After that, they had only about two hours to go before they were in San Francisco.
Adam’s eye narrowed. “Humor me. Since what we’re planning is basically illegal, I would like to know the particulars, if that’s all right with you.”
“Well, we did go over the warehouse design last night after our rappelling lesson. I thought you understood what we had to do.” Lance checked his side mirror and swept into the right lane.
“I do understand that aspect of it. The grappling hook and fake license plates are new.”
“Oh. I thought they’d be self-explanatory. The license plates are for this car that has to sit somewhere outside the warehouse until we emerge again. If it is seen, it would be better if the plates couldn’t be traced back to me. Even though this fine machine is just leased, I am quite fond of it. I would rather somebody tracing it would end up with a car that’s at the bottom of a junkyard rather than sitting in my garage. And, as for the grappling hook, how do you propose we get to the top of a two-story warehouse?”
“Stairs?” He hadn’t realized Lance put so much forethought into this venture. And, now, thinking about it, he was glad he did. It might keep them out of jail. He hoped.
When Lance didn’t reply to his sheepish answer, Adam knew he had better say something. He looked out the window at the dry yellow fields stretching into the distance. Adam wasn’t good at apologies. “You’ve, uhm, you’ve done a lot of work on this. Thanks. I appreciate your efforts.”
Lance just nodded and pulled into the first gas station they came to. “You want to drive for a while? I’d like to take a nap before we get there.”
Adam was surprised. Lance never let anyone drive his car. “Sure. No problem.”
As they resumed their route, Adam was impressed. “This handles nice.”
Lance, leaning his seat back, snorted. “You mean it doesn’t drive like a truck?”
“Hey, my Silverado doesn’t drive like a truck, either. This just handles…better.”
Adjusting the air conditioner vent to blow over him, Lance closed his eyes. He was asleep before he could reply.
The navigation system directed Adam to the motel where they would stay. He looked over the squat, one-story building with its flashing neon sign. He nudged the still-sleeping Lance. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, we’re here. Well, we’re somewhere. Is this the right place?” The motel wasn’t Lance’s usual style.
Reaching for a button on the door panel, his seat returned to its upright position. Looking at the motel, Lance grimaced. “Yes, this is it. It looked a little…uh, bigger on the Internet.” A jumbo jet screamed by overhead on its approach to the San Francisco International Airport. “But, it’s only $60 a night. We’ll be paying in untraceable cash.”
Adam handed Lance his keys. “Isn’t that price missing a zero for you?”
“For what we came to do, it’s fine.” He sounded less confident than his words implied. “Maybe it looks better inside.”
It didn’t.
They changed into some fresh clothes for dinner and gladly left the small, stale-smelling room. “I thought we’d drive by the warehouse while it’s still light, and then go to dinner. See if there’s anything obvious we should know.”
Again, the navigation system took them to their destination, accurately winding them through the city streets. The warehouse was in an older industrial section of the city near the piers, not too far from the building where the museum would eventually be built. They already knew their target was on the corner of the street with one entry door and a roll-up delivery door on each street. The skylights on the roof that they would use for their entry couldn’t be seen from street level. It was nearing 6:00 p.m. and the surrounding buildings looked closed for the night. A delivery truck pulled away two buildings down and a few cars headed home as Adam and Lance sat across the street and watched. Other than the address, their building was unmarked. No lights showed through the windows. Lance slowly drove down the alley behind the warehouse finding trash bins, empty crates and litter. After a short discussion, they decided to leave the car in the alley halfway down between the next two buildings. There was a delivery inlet where the car could be left and not block the alley. Lance drove through to the next side street. A left turn would take them to the piers and the ocean. A right turn would take them through the industrial section and back into the city.
“Look okay to you?”
Adam’s mouth was dry. He was starting to get more nervous about this whole idea. “I guess. Wish we had a different plan.”
“Me, too,” Lance admitted quietly. “I don’t look forward to facing five to ten if we get caught. But, I couldn’t come up with anything else.”
“I know.”
They were quiet with their own thoughts throughout dinner. Neither had much of an appetite, but knew they would need their strength. The glowing view of the city from the restaurant was lost on them as they pushed their food around and managed to get most of it down. Under different circumstances, the view would have afforded them a lot of enjoyment. The fog was beginning to roll in, slowly enveloping the city. It should have been stunning from where they sat. Silent, they paid the bill and headed for the warehouse.
Both knew the seriousness of what they intended to do. Both felt they had to take the chance.
The grappling hook made a huge clatter as it again fell to the blacktop of the alley. Adam had tried twice to hurl it up to the roof. He almost had it—one more swing. Leaning back, he got the momentum going and made another grunting heave.
When the curved hooks finally caught on the parapet of the building, Adam tested it with his weight. It held. They pulled their ski masks into place. In addition to black masks the two wore black climbing gloves, black jackets, black pants and black shoes. They blended into the side of the building as they slowly walked their way up the rope.
“You remember the old Batman TV show?” Lance’s soft voice sounded overloud to Adam.
“Shh! Yes. What about it?” Adam grunted as he struggled. They were almost to the top.
Lance chuckled. “This was how the Dynamic Duo always got to the top of buildings. I keep expecting a window to pop open next to us.”
Adam reached the top and hauled himself over the edge. “Well, I, for one, am glad that didn’t happen. So, who am I? Batman or Robin?”
“Well, I drove and you went up first. That makes you Robin.”
“Figures,” Adam muttered and sat back on his heels. Lance crouched down ne
xt to him.
They stayed still for a minute and just listened. There was no activity around them. The streets were silent and empty. The fog might obscure their vision, but it would do the same to anyone who might come by.
“Man, it is cold up here!” Adam rubbed his arms, cold in spite of the jacket he was wearing.
“Well, you know what Mark Twain said, don’t you?”
“‘Go West, young man’?”
“No, that was Horace Greeley. Mark Twain said: ‘The coldest winter I ever knew was the summer I spent in San Francisco.’”
Adam chuckled as he bent down to fit a socket wrench over the exposed bolts of the skylight they would use. The humor helped relieve some of his nervousness. Just some, though. He still had plenty to spare.
Lance attached their drop ropes to vent pipes on each side of the skylight. They each had their own rope to expedite their drop into the warehouse. Adam was able to undo the four half-inch bolts on each corner of the skylight. The painted plexi-glass curved out toward him and was about three feet square. Lance helped lift the front corners off and then slide the panel back to give them room to enter. Leaning into the ropes, Lance tested the strength of the pipes. He was stepping into his harness as Adam started getting into his. Knowing what they had to do, there was no need to talk. Now was the time to do it.
Lance dropped his rope into the darkness below as Adam did the same. Through his full-face mask, Adam’s eyes were wide as he backed to the edge of the dark hole and lowered himself through. Lance could hear the mechanics of the decender as it caught and released. Adam was slow but doing fine. Lance now pulled a larger device out of his backpack and snapped it into place on his thin rope. Checking the resistance one more time, he backed over the edge and pushed the lever. He slowly descended with a soft whirl of the motor and was on the ground well before Adam.
Lance could see Adam’s eyes frowning as he slid past. “Hey!” Adam whispered when he finally got to the floor, “I thought we weren’t going to use the automatic ones!”
Sometimes Dead Men DO Tell Tales! Page 20