The Lockpicker

by Leonard Chang

  Jake watched his brother hold his stomach, panting. Rachel came running back in with a small plastic garbage container. She said, “If you have to throw up, do it in here.”

  “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Eugene said, as he rolled his head back and forth.

  “Get some rest” Jake said.

  Eugene nodded. “Sleepy.”

  Rachel shook her head and motioned Jake out of the room. She turned off the light. They moved intot he living room, and Jake said, “Not too pretty.”

  “He’s just blowing off steam.”

  He said, “Do you know why?”

  She hesitated. “I guess everything.”

  She didn’t know about Eugene losing his job. He said, “Maybe you should talk to him. Find out what’s happening.”

  “I’m leaving him,” she said. “I’m not allowed to do that anymore.”

  50

  Jake waited until the owner of Franklin & Sons left for his lunch break. The young clerk with the gold-rimmed eyeglasses stayed in the showroom, helping a woman choose earrings. Jake walked in, and pretended to examine the watches. The clerk approached and asked Jake if he needed any help.

  “Do you buy jewelry?”

  “Sometimes, but it’s up to the owner.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  “He just went out. He should be back in an hour.”

  Jake nodded. “Maybe I’ll call later. What’s his name?”

  “Tony.”

  “Tony what.”

  “Tony Lomax. He should be here all afternoon.”

  The clerk didn’t seem to recognize him from his visit two days ago; the guy had been too interested in Rachel, ignoring Jake. This could be helpful. Jake left the store and checked the list of names he had copied from the intercom system. He found a match: Anthony Lomax, #6. He ripped up the sheet of paper and threw it away.

  Entering the side alley, he looked up at the buildings. The residential windows on the second floor had a direct view of the rear doors, so this could pose a problem at night. A small sign on the iron door had the store name and “Please use our front entrance.” He saw corrosion around the deadbolt. It could be rusted shut, which would require a forced entry. But he needed to know if there was an alarm system in the back room.

  He spent the next hour lingering near the store, monitoring the customer traffic. Moderately busy. Six walk-ins. Jake expected alternate lunch breaks. He needed to get a look at that back room, and wondered if he could use Rachel’s help.

  Last night, after putting his brother to bed, Jake and Rachel spoke about Eugene’s drunkenness. That apparent loss of control was unusual, and Jake couldn’t remember a time when his brother seemed so unhinged. She asked him about the chart and how it had looked.

  “It was just a graph: date and level of fighting.”

  “And the night she left?”

  “A doozy. He broke her nose, sent her to the hospital.”

  “You witnessed this?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “No. We were in the basement. We figured it out later.”

  As Jake watched Lomax’s store now and took in the activity, he relaxed. He thought about the night his mother had left. He and Eugene had been locked in the basement for almost the entire night, something that hadn’t happened before, though would happen much more once their mother was gone. The fight upstairs had long since ended, and they were waiting for the sounds of the jiggling doorknob. Sometimes their mother would unlock the door and hurry to the small second bathroom near the kitchen, disappearing before they’d emerge from the basement. That night it was taking a while. Jake curled up near the furnace, a chill in the air. Eugene crouched on the steps and waited. It was silent upstairs. Jake drifted in and out of sleep, often waking up with a start, shivering. He wasn’t sure how long he had been here, and was confused. He squatted down into a ball. He noticed that the goblins were trudging along the walls, hunched over and sullen. They seemed to be working on something, occasionally stopping to stare at Jake, but otherwise distracted. Then Eugene suddenly yelled and banged on the door. Let us out! Jake jumped at the sound. The goblins scattered.

  His brother continued yelling and hitting the door. Frightened by the panic in his brother’s voice, Jake stood up and asked what was wrong His brother yanked on the doorknob, and banged against the door. He said that no one was home, that they had been left here. He banged again, his voice unsteady.

  Jake saw some of the goblins return, watching him curiously. One of the goblins pointed to the paint cans in the corner. Jake saw through the darkness: hard-dried paintbrushes lay on the cans. Next to these were a roller and a screwdriver with a white painted tip. Jake walked across the room and picked up the screwdriver. He climbed the steps.

  His brother asked what he was doing, and Jake replied, Maybe we can use this. He saw that his brother was reaching out blindly, and Jake realized that Eugene couldn’t see in the dark, which surprised him. Jake grabbed Eugene’s hand and placed the screwdriver in it. Eugene asked where Jake had found this.

  When Jake replied, In the corner, his brother blurted, You idiot, why didn’t you tell me before?

  I’m not a idiot.

  His brother inserted the screwdriver into a small hole in the doorknob and jiggled it. He turned the screwdriver slowly, and then turned the doorknob handle. The door opened. Eugene said, Finally. Jake asked how he had done that.

  Everything can be opened with the right tools, his brother said. He told Jake to return the screwdriver, or their father might notice it misplaced.

  Jake left the screwdriver on the paint cans, and saw the goblin who had helped him. Jake waved. The goblin waved back. Jake hurried upstairs. His brother had wrapped himself with a bathroom towel. His pale skin was goose-pimpled. He was examining the floor. As Jake approached, Eugene held up his hand and told him to stop.

  Why?

  There’s a little blood here.

  Jake backed away. Eugene said, Get some clothes on and go to bed.

  Whose blood?

  Who do you think, his brother said. Go to bed.

  When Jake awoke the following morning, his mother was gone.

  51

  The next day at noon, during Lomax’s lunch break, Jake and Rachel sat in the car two blocks down from the jewelry store. Jake wasn’t sure if Rachel would back out. She said, “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then I try something else.”

  “And all you want is for me to look around?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. She had already asked this.

  “What if I can’t recognize an alarm?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “You think he’ll let me?”

  “Possibly.”

  She frowned.

  Jake said, “You look good.” He pointed to her short skirt and cropped black leather jacket. “If I was the clerk and you came in, I’d let you take all the jewels.”

  “Ha. Ha. I feel slutty.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  She smiled.

  “Should we go over it again?”

  “No. I’ll do my best.” She kept pulling on her skirt. When she saw him noticing, she said, “I haven’t worn this in ages. Now I know why.” She sat back. “You were out late last night.”

  “I was watching Lomax’s apartment.”

  “Euge told me about losing his job. You knew?”

  Jake nodded.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why should you do anything?”

  She sighed.

  “Last night,” Jake said, “while I was watching Lomax’s place, I read more about Heraclitus.”

  Her eyes, puzzled, stayed fixed on him, and she said, “Since when are you reading that?”

  “Since you told me a little.”

  “What do you think?”

  Jake saw in the mirror that Lomax was leaving for his lunch break. He said, “Not a lot of it makes sense, but it sounds good. Sleeping is being close to the dead. He jus
t left.”

  “What?” she asked. “Oh, him. Lomax. Should I go?”

  “Go.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Waiting here.”

  She took a deep breath and said, “I’ll do my best, but don’t be disappointed if I can’t—”

  “I know. Don’t worry. Just see how it goes.”

  She left the car and walked with short steps down the block. He watched her in the rear-view mirror, her tight skirt riding up her long thighs, and she pushed her hands against her hips, sliding the skirt back down. She had slicked back her hair with mousse, and it still retained that wet look, so he didn’t really recognize her in this outfit. He stared at her legs. Her well-defined calves tightened and relaxed with each step.

  He had tried to devise ways of glimpsing the back room—all he needed was a few seconds to see what the layout was—but nothing short of a trial break-in seemed possible. He was certain Lomax would recognize or at least remember him if he “accidentally” walked into that room, and the clerk had now seen him twice. Jake knew that as an Asian, especially in this neighborhood where there didn’t seem to be many, he would be remembered.

  Last night, as he watched Lomax return to his loft after work, Jake knew that everything hinged on how secure that back room was; again Lomax didn’t bring any jewelry home. Jake also took more time looking over Lomax’s building. In the conversion to residential lofts, the builders hadn’t changed any of the windows. Not only did the windows seem to lack any real insulation, but they were held shut with simple swivel latches, easily opened with a knife. The only problem was access, but he could probably climb down there from the roof.

  But he needed more information. He wouldn’t think of doing anything until he felt he could anticipate all of the contingencies.

  After ten minutes, Rachel left the store. She climbed into the car, and Jake drove away.

  “Did you see any of the back room?” he asked.

  “See it? He let me in to use the bathroom.”

  Jake turned to her, impressed. “You went in?”

  “I went in. He even left me alone for a few seconds while he checked the main room.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  He sighed. “And what did you see?”

  She gave him a sly smile. “What do you mean?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I bet you’re dying to know what I saw.”

  “I am.”

  “I bet you’ll do anything for my information.”

  “Almost.”

  “Really? Well, I’ll have to think of something good.”

  “I’m at your disposal.”

  She winked, then said, “The back door to the alley has an extra metal bar across it, locked with a padlock.”

  “Across the whole door?”

  “Yes. It looks like one of those dungeon bars, fitting into slots on the wall and on the door. The padlock is over one of the slots.”

  Jake thought, Forget that entry. “What else? Alarms?”

  “I didn’t see anything you told me to look for. No control panels. No wires near or around the door, or anywhere. It was just that wooden door.”

  “What about a mat?”

  “No. Bare concrete floor.”

  “Skylight?”

  “Oh, rats. I didn’t check. I don’t think so. The only light was the fluorescent.”

  “Bathroom?”

  “What about it?”

  “Windows, vents, anything?”

  “I think a fan on top.”

  “Okay. Describe the room.”

  “Everything?”

  “As much as you can remember.”

  She closed her eyes. “I walk in and I see the dirty concrete floor, a folding table with two chairs, and a desk with an office chair. There are metal shelves along the walls with books and small boxes. At the desk are a couple of lamps and something that looks like a magnifying glass on an arm. Next to the desk is a safe, a big one.”

  “How big?”

  “Higher than the desk and about three feet wide. Pretty deep because it was sticking out.”

  Jake cursed silently. Too big to steal. “Can you describe the safe?”

  “It’s brown, has a big dial on the front, and looks kind of old. I didn’t get a chance to see much more because he kept talking to me, and after I used the bathroom, he turned off the lights and waited for me to get out.”

  “When he closed the door, did he lock it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you see any small green or red indicator lights, anything near or around the door?”

  “Nothing. I looked.”

  Jake was pleased with this, but the safe would be a problem. He said, “You did great. I can’t believe you saw all that.”

  She punched the air. “Piece of cake.”

  Jake heard it in her voice, that juicing up inside, the flash of adrenaline. He said, “You’re feeling it.”

  “What?”

  “The charge,” Jake said. “From the risk.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “I like it.”

  52

  The front alarm was the biggest hurdle. Jake would have to disable it quickly, but wasn’t sure how, not with that tubular cylinder lock. He would need maybe thirty minutes to pick it, and that was unacceptable. Cutting the power was a possibility.

  He also had little experience with safes. He had stolen an entire safe from a house once, and it had taken him two days to break it open. The one that Rachel had seen was too large; he needed to bring someone in.

  Jake had spent the afternoon checking the status of his jewelry, collecting checks and withdrawing unsold items. He decided not to bring out any more new jewels. If he was going to consider Lomax’s store seriously, he couldn’t be appearing in jewelry stores all over the city. He cashed the checks and stored the unsold jewelry at the bank, then walked back to the apartment. He remembered that Chih had once mentioned someone who handled safes. What was the name? It was familiar to Jake through stories of a big bank job, though Jake wasn’t sure if Chih had been vouching for him. Hunt was the name. Something Hunt. But after Bobby Null, Jake wasn’t so sure about Chih’s judgment. It was time to check in, find out what had happened up there after he left. Chih probably thought Jake and Bobby had shut him out. Jake would explain, then maybe sound him out for someone who knew safes.

  Rachel was home. She was packing books into U-haul boxes. The split-up was truly happening. He said, “Did you find an apartment?”

  “Possibly. I applied for one that looked good. A studio in the Marina. I should hear from them in a couple of days.”

  “How much, or do I want to know?”

  She shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”

  “And you’re packing already.”

  “I have to sooner or later.”

  “Well.”

  She skimmed the titles of one stack, and said, “Look at all these stupid books on fertility.”

  “Where’s Eugene?” Jake asked.

  She shrugged. “Job hunting, I guess. I really hope he’s not out drinking.”

  Jake thought of his brother face-down on this floor, right where he was standing. He said, “He’s been like this before?”

  Rachel didn’t reply, and put more books into the box. She rolled up her sleeves and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, sighing. “No. You should talk to him,” she said.

  “Me.”

  “He’ll probably listen to you.”

  “What should I say?”

  “Just that he might be drinking too much and you’ve never seen him like this.”

  Jake nodded. “All right.”

  “Have you had dinner?”

  “Not yet.”

  She stood up, her knees cracking. “I’ll pick something up.” She looked down at the boxes. “If Euge shows up while I’m gone, don’t say anything about my apartment. I’ll tell him.”


  When she left, Jake looked through the open boxes, reading the covers of the books. He walked down the hall and saw the empty bookshelves, which depressed him. He closed the door.

  He had Chih’s number in his wallet, and called the store in Seattle. A woman with an indistinguishable accent answered, and Jake was confused.

  “Uh, is Chih-seh there?”

  A pause. “Who is this?”

  “Who is this?”

  “This is his wife.”

  “His wife? I thought you hated his store.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Jake, a friend of Chih’s. Is he there? Can I talk to him?”

  “Oh, no. You don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Chih…Chih was killed in a robbery.”

  Jake wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly, but her voice cracked and continued with, “He was shot and they took his money. I…I’m closing the store. They killed him.”

  53

  “Relax,” Bobby said. “I just want information, then I’ll never bother you again.”

  “I told you. I don’t know anything.” Mary’s face was deep red, her cheeks splotchy. Her eyes kept flickering towards the cat in his hands. “Thing is, I don’t believe you. You went out with him for a year and you don’t know anything? Maybe you want to protect him? Maybe you know where he is right now. Maybe you’re going to call him as soon as I leave.” He scratched the cat’s head.

  “Please, you’re scaring me. I swear I haven’t heard or seen him in five years.”

  “What was it like, going out with him?” he asked.

  She sat stiffly at the edge of the chair. “We had an okay time.”

  “Why’d you break up?”

  “I moved down here for a job, and he didn’t follow.”

  “What’s his brother’s name?”

  “Something nerdy. Dexter or something.”

  “Ah. So you do remember.”

  “No. I’m not sure. He mentioned it once or twice, but it never stuck in my mind. It was a name that I thought was nerdy.”

  “Dexter.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Where did he work?”