The Lockpicker

by Leonard Chang

  “That can’t be it,” he said.

  “That’s all I found.”

  “Can you search more?”

  “I have to get back online.”

  “Just a few more things.”

  She logged back on. “One sec.” It took a minute, and she found her way to the newspaper site. “What do you want to do?”

  “Check for more follow-ups.”

  “I did.”

  “Check again.”

  She shrugged and began typing in keywords, setting the dates to search. The screen came up with no articles.

  Jake said, “Try ‘Bobby Null’ or ‘Robert Null’.”

  “Same dates?”

  “Yeah, up to today.”

  She typed this in, and nothing came up.

  Jake said, “How about ‘U-district’ and ‘shooting’?”

  She hesitated, then typed this in. Nothing.

  “How about ‘Dumpster’?”

  She typed, then shook her head.

  “How about ‘gunshot’?”

  A few articles came up. She said, “A gunfight in Denny Park. Self-inflicted suicide in First Hill. That’s about it.”

  Jake wondered if Bobby’s body had ever been found. Maybe not. Maybe it had been taken to the dump and buried as garbage.

  Could he have survived? Wouldn’t there be an article about it then?

  Rachel turned to him. She said, “You shot him.”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  “He was going to shoot me.”

  “And you left him in a dumpster?”

  “I did.”

  “So he’s in some landfill somewhere.”

  “Probably.”

  “Is that why you came down here in a hurry?”

  “It is.”

  She stared at him, making him uneasy. She said, “I just can’t see you doing that.”

  “I didn’t want to. He pulled his gun on me.”

  “God, Jake. I don’t know what to think.”

  He stood up. “I don’t know either. I’ve never done that before. He was an asshole, but I didn’t want to kill him.”

  She turned off her computer and pushed the screen down. “How’d you get involved with him?”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  She said, “I already know a little. I want to know more.”

  Jake sighed and gave her a quick version of meeting Bobby, leaving out most of the details. He ended it with, “I guess I was out of practice. I should’ve never worked with him.”

  “You’ve never been caught?”

  “I came close a few times. I was once actually shot at.”

  “No.”

  “Some grandfather was living in the basement of a house. I didn’t know he was there. He surprised me with a gun.”

  “And shot you?”

  “Tried to. He was shaking so much he couldn’t aim. I was out of there before he could try again. It was a while before I did another one.” Jake felt odd, telling her this. It felt risky, but at the same time a small bubble of relief welled up inside him. He let out a small sigh.

  “Does Euge know about this?”

  “No. Early on, he wanted to know how I was getting my money, but he didn’t want to know much more.”

  “Is it a lot of money?”

  “No.”

  “But sixty thousand—”

  “That’s an exaggeration, I think. The jewelers inflate it for insurance.” He checked his pockets for the keys, and began heading towards the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “For a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  “I need some air.”

  “Want company?”

  He said, “Not right now.”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “All right. You don’t have to worry about me, Jake.”

  “I don’t?” he said.

  “No, you don’t.”

  He said, “Okay.” He left, his hair still wet and cold.

  28

  Bobby found Jake’s apartment building, which was only a few blocks from the dumpster where Bobby had been left to die. Smart. Jake was able to lose the car, walk home and hide out. In the front doorway, Bobby read the names on the intercom slots. There. “Ahn, 2D.” Bobby felt wired. Gotcha, you motherfucking piece of shit. He had to calm himself. He wanted to rush up there and beat the crap out of him. But no. He had to be careful.

  Second floor. Bobby circled the building, trying to get a sense of the layout. It was an eight-story building, and he counted six balconies or patios per floor. He had no way of knowing which was Jake’s, so he returned to the front entrance. He took out his keys and stood a few feet away from the glass doors. As soon as someone entered the small foyer, Bobby wanted to appear as if he were about to open the door.

  He waited. He was tempted to buzz Jake and check if he was home. Bobby hoped the jewels and cash were in the apartment. Then everything would be so easy.

  He heard voices approaching from the sidewalk, and he dropped his keys. As he reached down to grab them, a young couple stopped and waited. He moved aside, fumbling his keychain, and said, “Go ahead. Too many keys.”

  They smiled politely and went to the intercom system, pressing a button on the fifth floor. A static-filled voice answered, “Yeah?”

  “It’s us,” the man said.

  The front door buzzed, and the woman pulled it open. She walked through, then the man held it open for Bobby, who thanked him. The couple waited at the front elevator while Bobby found the stairs behind the corner. He climbed to the second floor, his palms sweating.

  He entered the narrow hallway, and looked around. Apartment “A” was right next to him. He pulled out his gun and walked down the hall to “D.” It was cramped in here, and he worried about the neighbors. He knocked on Jake’s door, and turned around so that Jake couldn’t see his face through the security hole. He knocked and pressed his ear against the door. Nothing. He checked the doorknob. Locked. There were two deadbolts in this door and he doubted he could break through.

  The balcony. Bobby counted apartments from the stairwell, estimating the location of Jake’s balcony. Then he hurried downstairs and outside, making sure to shove a piece of folded junk mail into the latch. He walked around the building and counted off four balconies from the stairwell. There. That must be Jake’s.

  The patio beneath Jake’s balcony was filled with potted plants and plastic furniture. He went back to the front foyer and buzzed 1D. No answer. Perfect.

  He walked to the side of the building, checked the patio again, then climbed the chain-link fence separating the property from the sidewalk. Jake’s balcony jutted over the patio, but in order for Bobby to reach the base he had to climb up the low brick wall surrounding the patio, then pull himself up. He scrambled onto Jake’s balcony, ignoring the sharp pains throughout his abdomen. When he looked through the glass doors, he saw that the interior was a mess, clothes and books all over the floor. He tried the door, but it was locked and latched. There was also some kind of double lock along the floor. Christ. Fucking Fort Knox.

  Bobby examined the small window next to the sliding doors, and decided the only way in was to break it. He took out his gun, and tapped the glass lightly. Thick. He saw some old newspapers on the ground, and opened one up, spreading it over the glass. He tapped the glass again, this time closer to the latch. Then, in one quick motion, shattered the glass. He kept still, listening. He then pulled out large pieces, laying them on the ground, and unlatched the window. He climbed through.

  Inside, he immediately knew that Jake had left. Drawers were open and empty, clothes piled and separated on the floor and mattress. Bobby searched everywhere for anything that would’ve clued him in on where Jake had gone. Nothing. The apartment had been cleaned out, and there was nothing even with Jake’s name. He checked the garbage. Nothing.

  “Fuck!” Bobby yelled. He loo
ked around. Jake had packed fast. Left no evidence. The whole place looked as if Jake was ready to run at any moment. No real furniture. A cheap black and white TV. Why was the place a mess? Because he was in a hurry. He had packed and cleaned this place out.

  Bobby saw a large ball of rolled-up old plastic bags. Safeway supermarket. Jake was probably using them to throw out things. Wait. Jake had bagged everything then had thrown it all out…where?

  He unlocked the deadbolts, and went into the hallway. There was a small broom closet at the end, and when Bobby opened the door, he saw the garbage chute. He slammed it shut and ran down the stairs, finding two dumpsters in the underground garage. Both dumpsters were overflowing. He saw a man starting his car, and hurried over to him. He knocked on the window and asked, “Do you know when they pick up the garbage?”

  “They were supposed to a few days ago, but the super forgot to unlock the gate. So the garbage is doubling up.”

  Bobby thanked him, and returned to the two dumpsters. Shit. He’d have to go through this mess and find the Safeway bags, which were probably at the very bottom, the garbage from last week. Even then, he might find nothing. He cursed loudly, and began pulling down wet plastic bags. The smell of something foul eased over him. He looked out for bugs. He always seemed to end up in a dumpster.

  29

  Jake walked by a small jewelry store as the owner was closing up. He recognized the name from the yellow pages—Franklin & Sons Jewelry—but he hadn’t planned to visit until he had first checked out the Pacific Heights stores. He was in the Cow Hollow neighborhood, the Union Street shops still active with early evening customers. He watched the owner pull down a skeletal grilling, and lock it with a large padlock. There was an empty storefront to the right of it with a sign “E-Zone Café Coming Soon!” On the left was a women’s clothing store, brightly lit with a few customers inside. Above the jewelry store were what looked like apartments and offices, two stories up. The owner checked the lock, then walked away. Jake backtracked and stood in front of the jeweler’s window. The front displays had been cleared, and he saw break detector foil along the windows. He glanced at the padlock, and knew he could open that in five minutes.

  The empty storefront next door had sheets of drywall piled in a corner. Still a long way to go. The buildings were crammed up against each other, and Jake searched for the rear. He walked around the block and found a narrow, crooked alley that led to the back of the stores. Beyond a few recycling containers, he found the clothing store, then the jewelry store back exit. Both had heavy iron doors. But when he looked closer at the lock on the jewelry store door, he recognized an old Yale deadbolt; dirty and worn, it could probably be snapped open quickly. He stepped back. There must be an alarm, but what kind? He felt a quickening in his chest. He heard classical music coming from a third floor window. Violins sang into the alley. Jake closed his eyes, wondering about the security system, and rose up with the music. He felt his body floating away.

  30

  Jake returned to the apartment and found Rachel and Eugene drinking champagne in the living room. They both turned to him, and swayed. The bottle on the table was empty. He laughed. “Well, I leave you two alone for a minute and you get wasted.”

  They smiled. Rachel said, “I forgot we had this. It’s to celebrate my last day.”

  “Where were you?” Eugene asked.

  “Just walking. Went along Union.”

  “Join us,” Rachel said.

  “It looks like I’m too far behind.”

  “We also have beer,” Eugene said. Jake said, “You’re celebrating nicely.”

  Eugene held up his glass. “I’m celebrating my demise.”

  “Get some beer. Toast with us,” Rachel said.

  Jake grabbed a can, and sat down with them in the living room. He asked his brother how his meeting went.

  Eugene shook his head. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear the nitty-gritty, but there’s some maneuvering going on with the board.”

  “The VC and the head are going to sell their stake to Eon,” Rachel said.

  Jake smiled. “I didn’t understand a word you just said.”

  “The Venture Capital firm holds a twenty percent stake,” Eugene said. “The guy on the board is teaming up with Aaron, the guy who started the firm, who has thirty-one percent. They’re selling their shares to Eon, a competitor.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means Eon will then take whatever it wants from us, then close the company down.”

  Rachel said, “And the VC and Aaron will walk away with Eon stock.”

  “And you?” Jake asked his brother.

  “Zip. If they shut down the company, there’s no parachute, there’re no equity to sell. Nothing.”

  “I thought you were worth a million bucks—”

  “No. I could’ve been, if everything went well, which it didn’t. But what little stock I have, if all this goes through, is worth nothing.”

  Jake looked at his beer. “I don’t want to open this.”

  “Open it,” Eugene said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “Forget about it,” he said. “Drink up.”

  Jake eyed his brother, then pulled back the tab. Rachel said, “Woo-hoo,” and held out her glass. Jake filled everyones’, and Eugene made a toast: “To a wasted eight and a half years.”

  Rachel said, “To being unemployed.”

  Jake shook his head, but smiled. They clinked glasses and drank. Jake checked the champagne label.

  “The expensive stuff,” Rachel said. “Only the best for us.” Eugene leaned back into the sofa. “I’m getting a little dizzy.”

  “That’s it? Just dizzy? You had most of the bottle,” Rachel said. Jake said, “I didn’t know you drank this much.”

  Eugene groaned. “I shouldn’t have mixed it.”

  “Euge is pretty good with alcohol,” Rachel said. “Not tonight,” Eugene said, covering his face. “Just don’t get sick,” Jake said.

  “What I should do is go to Aaron’s house and get sick all over his door.”

  They laughed. “That’ll show him,” Rachel said.

  “And his car,” Eugene said.

  “And his dog,” Rachel said. “Get sick on his dog.”

  Eugene laughed harder. Rachel cackled and covered her mouth. Jake stared at them, then said, “Man, you two better slow down.”

  “Come on,” Eugene said. “This is nothing.”

  Jake kept quiet, and put his glass aside.

  “It’s not like some people we know,” Eugene said, snorting. “Like who?” Rachel asked. “Oh, you mean your father?”

  “Maybe after that second bottle of Southern Comfort he’d get bad,” Eugene said. “But that first bottle was okay.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Nah. She never touched the stuff.”

  Jake said, “I think I’m going to turn in—”

  “Nooo,” Rachel and Eugene said together.

  Rachel said, “You two are so funny. You never want to talk about her.”

  “About who?” Eugene said.

  “About your mother.”

  “Nothing to talk about.”

  “But she left. Isn’t that bizarre?”

  “What’s so bizaare?” Eugene said. “She got sick of getting beaten up and left.”

  Jake thought, Get me out of here.

  “Not a word to anyone?” Rachel asked Jake. “She just disappeared?”

  “Not to me,” he said.

  Rachel turned to Eugene. “What about you?” Eugene hesitated.

  Jake caught this and sat up. “She said something to you?”

  Waving this off, Eugene said, “It’s nothing. Let’s drink to unemployment again.”

  “No, wait. Did she say something to you?”

  He frowned. “Just something about looking out for you.”

  Jake said, “Wait a minute. You knew she was leaving? She told you she was
leaving?”

  Rachel raised an eyebrow and said, “Uh-oh. Did I do something?”

  “No,” Eugene said. “It’s nothing. She just said one thing.”

  “But she must have told you she was leaving then,” Jake said. “Not really. It was the night before. She just said to look out for you.”

  “How come you never mentioned this?”

  “It didn’t seem…I don’t know.”

  “So what did she say exactly.”

  “You don’t have to interrogate me—”

  “I want to be sure you’re not leaving anything out. What did she say? When was this, what time?”

  “Does it really matter?” Eugene asked.

  Jake nodded.

  “It was late,” Eugene said. “I got up to go to the bathroom.”

  “Where was our father?”

  “Out.”

  “Where was she?”

  “In the living room.”

  Jake said, “So what were her exact words? No, you were going to the bathroom. Then what?”

  “I saw her in the living room. She saw me. She told me to come over there.”

  “And?”

  “She said I was the oldest one, and I had to look out for you.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s it.”

  “No, what did you say then?”

  “I don’t remember. I said ‘Okay’ or something like that. I had to go to the bathroom.”

  “What was her expression? What did she look like.”

  Eugene sighed. “We don’t have to go through—”

  “I want to know.”

  “I just told you—”

  “Tell me more,” Jake said, lowering his voice.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Easy, boys.”

  “Tell me,” Jake said.

  Eugene nodded. “She had been crying. It was after a huge fight. Her face was messed up It was that night she went to the hospital.”

  “Hospital?” Rachel asked.

  “What else? Did she say where or when or how? What about reaching her? She didn’t say anything?”

  Eugene shook his head. “She never mentioned anything except taking care of you.”

  “Why didn’t she say anything to me?” Jake asked.

  “Maybe she thought you were too young. Maybe it was too hard.”