Perfect Scoundrels

by Ally Carter

  “So what do we know?” Gabrielle asked. In the reflection of the windows, Kat saw her cousin sashay into the room.

  “They’ve changed their guard patterns,” Hamish said.

  “And most of their guards,” Angus added. “Which I don’t mind at all, I can tell you. One of those blokes was bound to remember me, handsome as I am.”

  “Simon?” Gabrielle asked, but he just kept staring at the computers spread out on the table in front of him. It was like he didn’t hear a thing.

  “Simon!” Gabrielle shouted.

  “Yes.” He bolted upright, startled. “Yeah. Okay. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  “Good,” everyone but Kat said in unison.

  “Oh.” He deflated.

  “What?” Kat asked.

  “I don’t really have good news; I was just hoping to soften the bad,” he said.

  “Just tell it like it is, Simon,” Kat said.

  “Well, they’ve changed their cameras since we hit them last fall,” he began.

  “That’s good news there, isn’t it?” Hamish tried.

  “These have facial-recognition software,” Simon added. “So…no. But I don’t think they have any records of our faces from last time, so…hey…that’s good news!”

  He seemed so happy, so proud of himself. And Kat couldn’t be still a moment longer. She started to pace.

  “Cat in the Cradle?” Gabrielle said.

  “We don’t have Hale,” Hamish said.

  “You could do it,” Gabrielle challenged.

  “Do I look like a classically trained violinist to you?” he asked, and Gabrielle didn’t broach the subject again.

  “Then what about an Ace’s Wild?” Simon said.

  Angus scooted forward. “With a little Count of Monte Cristo?”

  “Exactly,” Simon said, excited.

  “Yes.” Gabrielle crossed her arms. “That is the perfect way to remind everyone at the Henley that we were the kids locked in a supposedly abandoned gallery when the Angel was stolen.”

  “Maybe that back door into their computer system is still there,” Simon said, and Kat could practically hear his palms sweating. “If it is, maybe I could—”

  “Chill, Simon,” Gabrielle said, looping an arm around his shoulders. “Breathe.”

  “But—” he started, and Kat cut him off.

  “They closed that back door before they plastered over the nail the Angel hung on. No one is ever going to use that again.”

  Simon hung his head, mourning the fact that a most excellent security breach had had to die for their last mission to live.

  The silence stretched out, wrapping around them like the city skyline on the other side of the glass. It felt for a moment like they were floating, suspended, flying down the Thames. Kat prepared herself to feel the crash.

  “’Course, we could do this the easy way.” Angus sounded like he’d been waiting hours for someone—anyone—to state the obvious.

  “An easy way?” Kat said. “To rob the Henley?”

  “An easy way to get into the Hale desk in the Henley.” Hamish was up and walking purposefully across the room. “If only we knew someone. Someone named…”

  “Hale?” his brother guessed.

  “Precisely,” Hamish said.

  “No,” Kat told them with a quick shake of her head.

  “I know ol’ Hale is busy, Kitty Kat,” Angus talked on, “but he’d come if you called him.”

  “No,” Kat said, walking toward the coffeepot in the kitchen. She was tired of being cold. “I won’t call him.”

  “Fine, then,” Angus said, following. “I’ll call him. I bet even the Hale of Hale Industries would be glad to jump on that corporate jet and…what’s the word?”

  “Jet,” his brother supplied.

  “Yes, jet over to help. He’d be—”

  “No!” Kat snapped, then drew a deep breath. Her hands began to shake, so she set the coffeepot down. “Hale can’t help, okay? He just can’t.”

  “And why would that be?” Simon asked.

  “Because, technically, Hale doesn’t know we’re here,” Gabrielle said.

  Kat felt the truth of it wash around the room until, finally, Angus had to ask, “Then who does know?”

  “Marcus,” Kat said. “And Marcus’s sister.”

  “And Uncle Eddie,” Gabrielle added, defiant. “This time, Uncle Eddie totally knows. And approves.”

  Angus eased forward. “What’s going on, Kitty?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try us,” Hamish said.

  Kat couldn’t help herself. She risked a glance at Gabrielle, who nodded. “It’s just…” Kat spoke slowly. She had to build up the courage and momentum to say, “It’s just that Hale might not be the real heir. Okay? It might all be a con.”

  “A con?” Simon asked. “Like a Prodigal Son?”

  “No.” Kat shook her head. “Well, not exactly. We think there may be a different will. A real will that gives the company to someone else. And it may be in that desk.”

  The words washed over them all, the truth settling down around them. It seemed to take forever for Angus to say, “Call me heartless, but isn’t the current will…you know, the one that gives our friend Hale about a billion dollars…a good will as far as we’re concerned?”

  It wasn’t an easy question, so Kat wasn’t in a hurry to answer. She sank onto the sofa and thought about Marcus and Marianne and finally the look in Hale’s eyes when he’d told her that the only member of his family he’d truly loved had trusted her most precious possession to him and him alone.

  “I don’t know, Angus. I really don’t. I just know I need to find out the truth.”

  “Then we find the truth,” Simon said. The Bagshaws nodded.

  “How much time do you think you’ll need with the desk, Kitty?” Hamish asked.

  Kat placed her elbows on her knees and thought. “I honestly have no idea.”

  “The world record for cracking a Petrovich is two minutes fourteen seconds,” Simon said. When the others gaped at him, he shrugged and added, “There are tournaments. I’m a fan.”

  “So the low end is two minutes,” Gabrielle said.

  “Not counting the exit,” Simon filled in.

  “Not counting the exit,” Gabrielle agreed with a nod.

  “Okay,” Hamish said, “if that’s the low end, what would the high end be, do you think?”

  The question hung over them like a cloud, but all eyes turned toward Simon, who admitted, “Some have never been cracked.”

  “Well, if Hazel used the secret compartment, that means she found the secret compartment,” Kat said, reassuring everyone, but mostly herself. “And if Hazel found it, I’m willing to bet I can too. I just hope it doesn’t take too long.”

  “I’ll rig you up with a button cam,” Simon told her. “We’ll all be able to see what you’re seeing, and help if we can.”

  “Good,” Kat said. She was under the distinct impression that she was going to need all the help she could get.

  “Are you sure Marianne doesn’t know how it works?” Gabrielle asked.

  “She swears she doesn’t,” Kat said. “So that means…”

  “It might take all night,” Simon finished.

  “So all night you shall have!” Angus said with a slap of his thigh. Then he scooted close to Simon and whispered, “How do we get her all night?”

  Sweat was beading on Simon’s brow. “I don’t know. No one’s ever done the Basil E. Frankweiler at the Henley.”

  “It’ll have to be someplace the guards won’t check and the cameras won’t see,” Gabrielle said. “Simon, can you arrange that?”

  “No go,” Simon said with a shake of his head.

  “You were able to loop the video feeds before,” Gabrielle said.

  “Yes, but before, the Henley had a chink in their armor. They’ve fixed it.”

  Angus opened his mouth to protest, but Simon cut him off.

>   “Look, we can blind some of the cameras, but it will have to be manual. And temporary. There’s no way I can access their system again. Well, no way to easily access their system on this kind of time frame. We’re definitely going to need a blind spot.”

  “So we just have to find a place with no guards and no cameras for eight to twelve hours in the most heavily monitored museum in the world.” Kat took a deep breath. “Okay. How hard can that be?”

  No one answered, and Kat was glad for the silence. It was times like this when she was supposed to be able to ask her father for advice, her uncle. Her mother. But the truth of the matter was, it was the Henley; and she was the only person she knew who had ever been in and out…clean.

  Well, almost the only person, Kat realized as another thought occurred to her. “I know what we need.”

  “What?” Angus asked.

  Gabrielle met her cousin’s eyes, and finished. “Help.”

  In a continent of beautiful places, there was always something Kat liked about Brussels. The Royal Palace. The river Senne. Cathedrals and ancient buildings as far as the eye could see. So she sat on a bench and sipped her coffee, waiting until the church bells chimed three o’clock.

  Kat could imagine those big gears turning, moving the hands of the clock and then setting off a chain reaction down the street and across the city, all the way to the halls of St. Christopher’s Academy. By the time the bells had finished, the big double doors were swinging open and a tide of blue blazers and book bags emerged. But Kat stayed on her bench, watching, waiting, until one boy appeared among the masses.

  He walked with more purpose than his classmates, stood a little straighter. And when he saw her, he didn’t even break stride.

  “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come all the way to Belgium for an education?” Nick pulled the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and squinted against the sun that reflected off the gold buttons on his private-school blazer.

  “Oh, I’m definitely here to learn.” Kat couldn’t help but smirk as she stood and sidled closer.

  “I’m sure you are.” Nick gave a wry laugh. “Do I have to ask how you found me?”

  “This is the best international school in Brussels—all the European Union bigwigs send their kids here. Congratulations on your mom’s promotion, by the way. Interpol Liaison to the EU, very fancy.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Of course she hates it. Too desk-job-y.”

  “I’ll tell my dad. I’m sure he’ll send his condolences.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Kat had to wonder for a minute what that would feel like—homework and uniforms, walks home with nice boys offering to carry your bag. That was her life once. Almost. But Hale had gotten her kicked out of the Colgan School, pulled her back into her own world, just like now he’d been pulled back into his.

  “So why are you here, Kat?” Nick asked.

  “Maybe I was craving waffles.”

  “Kat…” He let her name draw out. “I’m pretty sure this is the part where you tell me you need my help to steal an emerald.” He laughed. “Or rob the Henley…”

  Kat’s face stayed blank, but something in her eyes must have shifted, because Nick tensed.

  “No.” It was like he’d read her mind, because he was already shaking his head, saying, “No. No. No. Just—”

  “Hear me out, Nick.”

  She touched his arm, but he jerked away. “Are you crazy?” he said. “No. Strike that. I know you’re crazy, but I didn’t know you had a death wish.”

  “It’s not what it sounds like.”

  “It never is with you, is it? And that’s the problem.”

  “That’s hilarious coming from you.” Kat rolled her eyes. “I remember a time when you couldn’t wait to rob the Henley with me. Don’t you? Maybe I should ask your mother about it.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea, Kat. She might be too busy trying to arrest your father.”

  Kat started to fire back, but then stopped. Her breath slowed and she looked up at him. “Why are we fighting?”

  He laughed a little. “I honestly have no idea.”

  “Okay,” she said. “As long as I’m not the only one.”

  They walked together down the cobblestone street, silent for a while until Kat said, “So, school, huh?”

  “You know, these days a lot of teenagers are experimenting with formal education.”

  “It’s a regular epidemic.”

  Nick gave a slow, wide grin. “That’s kind of the idea.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking. “So, where is he?”

  Kat stopped cold on the street, and Nick guessed the truth.

  “Wait. Are you telling me that you intend to rob the Henley—again—without Hale?” He sounded both confused and impressed.

  “I’m doing it for Hale.”

  Nick laughed. “You mean there’s something at the Henley W. W. Hale the Fifth can’t buy?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What else is new?” He looked off into the distance. “What do you need?”

  “A blind spot. And someplace with no guard access overnight.”

  “The Basil E. Frankweiler?” he asked with a grin. “Oh, Kat. You are the craziest genius I know.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, will you help me?”

  “I would if I could, but my mom is a glorified bureaucrat now. She wouldn’t have that kind of information.”

  “Come on, Nick. You and I both know that all the world’s museums keep their security specs on file with Interpol.”

  “And Kat, you and I both know we’re not at Interpol.”

  “You mean to tell me the official Interpol Liaison to the European Union doesn’t have database access?”

  He couldn’t tell her that, and she knew it. So Nick shifted his backpack and started down the sidewalk. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The airport outside of Brussels was busy, but not busy enough, in Kat’s opinion. She kept her bag on her lap and her gaze on the tarmac. At the other end of the terminal a flight was being boarded for New York, and Kat was half tempted to catch it—to run all the way back if she had to, and beg Hale to forgive her; but forgive her for what, she didn’t exactly know.

  “Mademoiselle McMurray,” the gate agent said, but Kat didn’t look up. Heavy gray clouds gathered outside, and Kat was trying not to think about the turbulence; her stomach was already lurching up and down. She’d felt queasy for days.

  “Mademoiselle?” the woman said again, and Kat suddenly remembered that McMurray was the name on her passport. “We’re boarding.” The woman spoke English with a heavy French accent.

  “Merci,” Kat told her, then picked up her bag, handed over her ticket, and joined the long line of passengers crossing through the glass doors and heading toward the plane.

  As soon as she stepped outside, the damp breeze hit Kat like a slap. Mist was heavy in the air, and she could feel her short black hair beginning to frizz as it blew across her face, clinging to her cheeks. For a second, Kat thought the wind was howling, that her mind was playing tricks on her when she heard somebody yell, “Kat! Wait!”

  The rain was growing heavy, and Kat could see nothing but a dark shadow running from the airport doors toward her. “Hale?” Kat asked. But no. The shape was wrong. The voice was off.

  “Wait!” Nick yelled. He was almost panting when he came to a stop beside her. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself,” Kat told him.

  “I’m glad I caught you. I didn’t want you to leave before I could give you your present.” He held up a long plastic tube sealed at each end, and Kat’s stomach flipped again.

  “Is that…”

  “Complete blueprints for the Henley?” he asked with a wink. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Hard copies, Nick? How old-fashioned.”

  “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.”

  And then Kat couldn’t joke anymore. She was all out of tease when she said, �
��Thanks, Nick. For this. I owe you.”

  “I’m not sure you do.”

  “Okay. Hale owes you. I’ll take good care of them for—”

  Kat reached for the tube, but Nick pulled the blueprints out of her grasp. “Not so fast. I’m coming with them.”

  He flashed a boarding pass of his own, Brussels to London one-way.

  “You don’t have to do that, Nick. I know you’ve got school and stuff,” Kat said. “We’ll be fine without—”

  “Oh, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this so that these never have a chance to get back to your uncle. Or your father. I’m sentimental, Kat, not suicidal.” He eyed her. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “I have problems, Nick. But you aren’t one of them.” She headed for the plane and yelled over her shoulder, “Come on.”

  “Does anyone have any questions?”

  Kat sat at the front of the room, the complete blueprints of the Henley taped to the windows, standing between her and that million-dollar view. The lights of London bled through the thin paper, and it was like the documents were on fire. Kat only wished they didn’t feel quite so radioactive.

  “Are you sure we can’t take those off your hands when we’re finished, Nick my boy?” Hamish asked with a nod.

  Nick crossed his arms. “I’m sure.”

  “But—” Angus started, but Kat cut him off.

  “Guys, Nick didn’t have to do this. For us. Or for Hale.” She thought for a second about the animosity that had always coursed between the two of them, but didn’t linger on the question of why Nick had come. She was simply glad he had.

  “In short,” she went on, “we owe him.”

  “Hear, hear.” Hamish raised a glass of something they had found in Carlos’s refrigerator. “To Nick! And his very hot mum!”

  “Thanks,” Nick said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it.

  “So if there aren’t any questions…” Kat let the words draw out. She scanned the room, looking at the eager faces staring back at her. They would have done anything—gone anywhere—for her or for Hale. She felt a little dizzy with the knowledge that so much was riding on her not making any mistakes.

  “Okay. Then I guess we’re good.”