by John Holt
She started to laugh. “That’s easy,” she replied. “You just walk out, as simple as that. Just walk out.” He said nothing but looked puzzled. “The day after the party the place will be swarming with workers clearing up,” she explained. “There will be people removing the sound system, removing the temporary lighting, dismantling the marquee.” He still said nothing. “There will be people cleaning up the debris, the empty bottles, and the discarded food. You name it. They will be clearing it away. You will be one of those workers. As they start to leave, when they have finished, you simply go out with them. You won’t even be noticed. People will assume that you are with one of the other groups. You won’t be questioned.”
He was not convinced. But once again he realized that he was completely in her hands. He was totally under her control. He hated being in this position where he was obliged to follow her instructions, where she was in charge. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit, but he knew that he had no choice. No choice whatsoever.
She looked at him closely. Could she trust him? Really trust him? She knew she was taking a big risk, but she had to trust him she knew that. There was no turning back, not now. They had to go ahead. They had been planning this for several months now. They had decided to put the plan into action on the night of the anniversary party, and that was that. The party was the one golden opportunity. They could not leave it any later. She could not back out, he knew too much. She had no choice.
“Three o’clock,” she repeated. “Three.” He said nothing. “Understand,” she said firmly, placing her hand tightly on his arm. “It is most important. The timing is crucial.”
He patted her hand. “Don’t worry, I understand perfectly. Three o’clock on the dot. I’ll be there. No problem. It’ll be a piece of cake. Just like falling off a log. I won’t let you down. You can count on me.” He looked at her for a few moments. “You don’t have to worry,” he said slowly. “You just do your bit, and everything will be just fine.”
“Okay,” she replied relieved. “Once inside, you will then have no more than forty-five minutes to get the jewels and make your way back into the woods.”
It was cutting things close, he thought, but it should be enough time. It had to be enough time. The security guards would be back at four, so there was very little leeway, if any.
* * *
It was going to be tight, but that was the plan they had agreed upon, that was the way it had to be. He had to wait until three o’clock. Then they could proceed with the plan. The alarm would be out of action, the security lights switched off and the front entrance door would be unlocked. As long as she kept her part of the bargain, it should be all right. He clicked his thumb and forefinger together. “Just like that,” he murmured. Then he slowly shook his head. He was far from convinced.
He wondered if he could actually trust her, after all he was taking all the risks. If things went wrong he would be the one caught. He would be the one actually charged. He would be the one going to prison. Naturally he could implicate her he knew that. But he also knew that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to prove her involvement. He knew that if it came to it, he would say nothing, deep down he knew that there was nothing he could say. She would get away with it absolutely Scott free.
He suddenly began to shake. It wasn’t just because of the cold. He suddenly felt nervous, un-certain, unsure. He was beginning to feel somehow at risk. He realized that he was totally reliant on her. His fate was completely in her hands. He didn’t like the feeling. He didn’t like any situation over which he had no control. If she were wrong in any detail, the slightest error, then he would be in trouble. If she did not carry out her part of the plan there was no chance of success. He would be caught red-handed. And there would be nothing that he could do about it. And yet they had gone over the plan time after time, and he had accepted it without question. So why was he having doubts now? Why all the questions? It made no sense. “Fine time to start worrying,” he murmured.
Besides she wouldn’t let him down would she? Why would she let him down? If she said she would do something she would do it, wouldn’t she? If she said that something would happen then it most assuredly would happen, wouldn’t it? What could possibly go wrong?
He looked over at the house, then over to the garage block. There was no one around. The place was completely deserted. The guard was not due for another twenty-five minutes. Another twenty-five minutes. He had already been there for almost one and a half hours. He was getting cold, and he could feel a cramp in his right leg.
The wind suddenly got stronger, rattling the tree branches. He looked up at the mass of dark clouds that had formed. There was a flash of sheet lightning, which lit up the sky for miles around. Then there was a loud crash of thunder, and the rain started. He pulled his coat tightly around him, and ducked back into the trees seeking whatever shelter he could find. The shelter was totally inadequate. He was getting soaked.
The rain became heavier and heavier. Another twenty-five minutes, he repeated. Twenty-five more minutes just standing there, in the dark, and the rain. Once more he peered towards the house. It was still completely dark, and nothing was stirring. He looked towards the right, to the garage block. To one side was the staircase leading to the storerooms on the first floor. The landing area projected outwards. That would afford some shelter he judged. He looked up at the sky once again. There was no sign of any let up. Then he returned his gaze towards the garage. He would certainly be better protected over there, than being stuck out here. He checked his watch once more. There was still twenty-three minutes to go before the guard was due. There was more than enough time to get across. He decided to take a chance.
The figure emerged from the trees and quickly ran across the lawn towards the garage block. The shadow suddenly stopped and looked up at the security camera located on the corner of the building. The figure noticed that the red light was shining brightly. The camera was still working. For a brief moment he wondered if he had been seen. If he had it would all be over, and very soon. Had he been seen? He didn’t think so. He was sure that he had stopped in time. He hadn’t actually got that close had he?
Whether he had been seen, or not, there was no point in staying where he was. Must get to the garages, he murmured. Then wait to see what happens. If no one came well then he was in the clear. If, on the other hand, he had been seen someone would be there within the next few minutes. Time to hide, he decided, and then wait. He moved quickly to his right, out of the camera’s range and view, and continued towards the garage. He reached the edge of the lawn, and stopped at the gravel driveway. He looked back towards the house. It was still in darkness. He looked up at the sky again. There was another loud rumble of thunder. The rain continued to fall. He crossed over the driveway, and turned towards the rear of the garage.
Five minutes later he was standing underneath the overhanging landing. He checked his watch. There was still fifteen minutes to wait, before the guard was due to appear. He looked over at the house. It was in darkness, and there was no one around. Everyone was asleep. So why shouldn’t he just go, now. He was beginning to get impatient, edgy. He wanted to get on with it, to get hold of the jewels and to get out. But he knew that he had no choice. No choice whatsoever. They had agreed the time, and that was that. He had to wait, whether he liked it or not. He turned away from the corner and walked around to the side of the garage. He stumbled and fell forward. He reached out to stop his fall, and caught his sleeve on a rusty nail in the wall. He pulled himself free. He never noticed his jacket button tear off and fall to the ground. He never noticed the nasty cut on his left wrist either.
* * *
He heard the dogs first, panting loudly, and yapping excitedly. Maybe they had seen a rabbit or a fox perhaps. Then he saw the beam of the flashlight as it came around the corner. Slowly it moved from side to side. Firstly the beam lit up the trees on the far side. Then it swept across the lawn, hitting the garage wall. It then swept back across
the lawn, and into the trees. Then he saw the guard come into view, and slowly walk along the front of the house, towards the garages. A few moments later and he had reached the garage block. When he was only a few feet away, he stopped and glanced towards the end of the garage. As he did so the figure quickly ducked back into the shadows cast by the staircase. Had he been seen the figure wondered? Would the guard come his way?
He began to wish that he had stayed over in the trees. Out here by the garage wall he felt strangely vulnerable, and exposed. He pressed back further against the wall, and as far into the shadows as he could. The guard moved towards the corner of the garage, and stopped. The dogs began barking once more, and pulling him towards the end of the garage. Had the dogs picked up his scent, the figure wondered? Had the dogs seen him? The guard tugged hard on the leads, pulling the dogs back. He shone the torch up the staircase and along the adjacent landing, and then down, the light causing strange shadows through the balustrade on to the wall behind.
Satisfied that the area was clear, the guard quickly moved away, the beam from his torch dancing from side to side, as he went. At the far corner of the house he turned and disappeared from view. A few minutes later the two floodlights suddenly went out. The man looked at his watch. The lights had gone out exactly on time, as she had said. He looked up at the windows to her room, and smiled. Another twenty minutes or so, and the alarm would be switched off, and the front door would be unlocked.
* * *
He checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Three o’clock, at last,” he murmured. It was time to go.
He slowly moved forward towards the main entrance. A few moments later, the shadow had reached the main door and stopped once again. There high up on the right hand side was the alarm box. On the opposite side was another security camera. The camera was aimed directly at his position. There was no red light showing to indicate that the camera was operating. He was not surprised. In fact he knew that the camera would be out of action. The alarm would also be out of action. He clicked his finger and thumb together. “Just like clockwork,” he murmured. He removed a rucksack from his shoulder, and took out a pair of soft white gloves. He quickly put them on, glancing around as he did so. There was no one in sight. He slowly approached the front door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, then gently pushed against the door. As expected the door was unlocked, and it slowly swung open. He waited for a few moments. As expected the alarm did not go off. Quickly he entered the hall, and silently closed the door behind him. In front of him was a large winding staircase leading up to the first floor. In the centre of the hallway was a large circular table. On the top was a large crystal vase, containing an elaborate floral display. Hanging from the ceiling was a crystal chandelier. To his right was an arched entrance into a large lounge. To his left a pair of double doors which led into another reception area. To the side of the staircase there were two further doors. The hallway was in darkness, apart from faint shafts of moonlight coming in from the lounge.
He reached into the rucksack, and took out a small torch. Shading it with his hand he switched it on, directing the light downwards. He slowly made his way across the marble floor. As he did so he suddenly thought that he heard something or someone on the landing. It’s probably her. He stopped for a few moments and listened. He moved slowly forward and glanced up the stairs. For a split second he thought that he saw a shadow move, and then it was gone. He stood perfectly still for a few moments. He heard nothing more. He saw nothing. Satisfied he moved to the back of the staircase, and over to the doorway to the left. He careful bent forward, and placed his ear against the door. He remained there for a few moments. He then stretched out his gloved hand and grasped the door handle. Slowly he turned the handle, and opened the door slightly. He peered through the crack that opened up between the door and the frame. As far as he could see the room was empty. He silently entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He directed the torchlight slowly around the room. All around there were shelves full of books extending from the floor to the ceiling. Over on the far wall was a large painting. It was of a young girl sitting in a rowing boat. Although he had never seen it before, he knew what it was instantly. He also knew that behind that painting he would find the safe.
* * *
He walked over to the far side, and carefully lifted the painting from the wall. He placed it on to the floor, propped up against a large armchair. Satisfied that it was properly supported, he went back to the safe. It looked complicated, and if he had not already got the combination he would not have been able to open it. But, of course, he did know the combination didn’t he. He moved closer to the safe, and raised his hands taking hold of the dial. “All right, here goes,” he murmured. “Twenty-two, right.” He placed his ear close to the door, and slowly started to turn the silver dial in a clockwise direction. After a few moments there was a soft click as the first tumbler fell into place. “Next, fourteen left,” he continued, as he turned the dial anti-clockwise. There was another soft click. Tumbler number two was now in position. He released the dial and rubbed his hands together. “Two down, two more to go.” He took a deep breath. He was sweating, and his heart was thumping. “Too fast,” he murmured. “The heart is beating too fast.” Nerves, he thought. That’s all, just nerves. He took two deep breaths, slowly inhaling, and then holding for a few seconds before exhaling. The heartbeat began to slow down. He rubbed his glove across his forehead. He suddenly stopped, and looked behind him. What was that, he wondered? Was it his imagination, or had he heard something, or someone outside the room? He switched off the torch, and looked towards the door. He waited, listening, not daring to breath. He then slowly walked over to the door. He placed his ear to the panel and listened. There was nothing. Carefully he opened the door slightly and peered into the hallway. There was no one there, and no further sound.
Imagination, that’s all, he whispered. He quietly closed the door, and switched the torch back on. He walked back to the safe. He took a deep breath, and took hold of the dial once again. “All right, next we have thirty-three, right,” he whispered, as he began turning clockwise once again. “Thirty,” he started to count. “Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three.” There was a third click as tumbler number three dropped down. One more, he told himself. “Eighteen left, and we’re home and dry.” Carefully he pushed the dial round anti-clockwise once again. “Sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen,” he said triumphantly. There was no click. The safe did not open. He pulled hard on the handle, but nothing happened. He twisted the handle, first one way, and then the other. Still nothing happened. He pushed the handle up, and pushed it down. The door remained stubbornly closed. He started to panic. His breathing became shallow, and he started to sweat again. Time was passing. He tried the door once again. Still it would not budge. Had they changed the combination, he wondered? Perhaps he had been told the wrong information. Perhaps there had been a mistake somewhere.
“Stop, stop,” he murmured. “Don’t panic. Calm down, must think.” He took a deep breath. He held up one finger. “Twenty two right,” he whispered. He then held up a second finger. “Then its fourteen left, followed by thirty-three right,” he raised a third finger. Then he paused for a few moments, thinking hard. He slowly raised the fourth finger. “Then it’s nineteen left.” He cursed. “Nineteen left,” he repeated. “Not eighteen.” There had been a mistake all right, and he had made it. He wiped his face with his gloved hand. He started to turn the dial once again, slowly.
“Seventeen, eighteen.” He took another deep breath. “Nineteen.” There was that fourth muffled click. The last tumbler had dropped. He spun the wheel, and pressed the lever down. The door slowly, silently, swung open.
He reached inside and withdrew a large oval leather case. He pressed the catch and opened it. Inside was a necklace, a bracelet, a set of earrings and in the centre there was a large perfect ruby. He let out a low whistle. He carefully removed the ruby and held it up in front
of the torch. So this was the Marinski Collection, and that was the Ruby. He then replaced the ruby into the case, carefully closed it, and wrapped a thick cloth around it. He then placed the case inside the canvas rucksack. He closed the safe, and re-placed the painting on to the wall. Pulling the rucksack onto his shoulder, he quietly left the room, and went back across the hall floor, and out of the main door. As he did so he suddenly heard a loud crash. It was the painting. He had not re-hung it securely enough, and it had crashed on to the floor.
He started to quickly make his way across the lawn back into the trees. As he did so, he turned around. He could hear the sound of voices calling out loudly. Lights had come on in the upstairs rooms. As he reached the trees he noticed that lights had now come on downstairs. Suddenly the front door opened. Standing in the open doorway was a young girl, perhaps in her mid twenties. She was no beauty queen but nonetheless she was still good looking in a classic sort of way. She looked over in his direction, peering into the darkness. She looked behind her, and then returned her gaze towards the trees. She gave a small wave, barely noticeable, but he saw it clearly, and waved back. Whether or not she saw the wave is not known. Probably not, but she didn’t need to actually see. She knew that he was there. That was all that mattered. She then quickly returned into the house, closing the door quietly behind her. As the door closed, the security guard ran from the side of the house, two Dobermans pulling tightly on their leads, and barking loudly.
* * *
Mr. Bradley discovered the painting lying on the floor, one corner of the frame had cracked, and broken away. He then moved over to the safe. He looked at the dial. It was clear that the safe had been tampered with. Had they actually managed to open it, he wondered, as he turned the dial first one way, then the other. A few minutes later there was a muffled thud, the door clicked, and slowly opened. He peered inside, and then reached in. His worst fears were realized, the ruby had gone. The Marinski collection had been stolen.