presence, had come full circle. Starting life as an impressive family seat, it had been everything from a hospital and elder-care home to an asylum and a military headquarters. Several years ago, in desperate need of tender love and care, the château had been purchased by the Caviette family for a price far below market value, and they had set about restoring it to its former glory.
The meeting with the suits just over a week ago had been weird.
First, they didn't question or haggle over his fee, a fee he'd over-inflated due to the fact they looked loaded and the urgency with which they wanted the job performed. Clients who didn't question his fee always concerned him. Second, and more important, it was a very large fee for such a seemingly worthless commission. What would someone want with a two thousand-year-old lump of wood, regardless of its alleged origin? But, when all was said and done, he was still quietly kicking himself — he should have gone even higher.
And it still wasn't his weirdest job; that honour went to the people who'd hired him to break into the Sydney Zoo. There had been a package to be picked up, and then hidden in the koala petting area.
He'd never learned what was inside the package — but the way it felt and the way it sounded still gave him shivers some nights. It certainly had been important enough for them to pay a one hundred thousand-dollar fee — a fee that had helped dispel his nightmares and ease his sleep.
The instructions and information provided for the château job were the best he'd ever received. Plans of the grounds, blueprints, photos, schedules for the family and the staff, and the all-important alarm code
— all perfect, all adding up to make this one of the easiest scores ever.
Maybe too good to be true, which was why he'd done his own research.
Smiling to himself, he made his way towards his private goal.
The jewels contained within the château's safe were from the French
Revolution and would carry a hefty price tag on the black market.
This was going to be a good night's work.
Walking through the main lobby, he shone his torch up the walls alongside the marbled staircases. They were covered with what he assumed to be ancestral portraits: dark canvases mounted in heavy gilded frames. He berated himself a little, wishing he knew more about the art world; he felt sure they'd be worth a fair price. The rubber soles on his shoes squeaked as he moved through the lobby to the library doors between the stairs. Opening one of the double doors to the room, he waited for a moment, listening for any signs of life.
Once he felt confident the place was vacant, he entered.
The musty smell of old books and papers filled his nose, reminding him of his university days and the hours he'd wasted researching information he'd never need, nor ever use again. Looking up at the portrait above the fireplace, he reminisced about the jobs he'd done on safes hidden behind pictures. Shaking his head, he wondered. Did people really think a thief wouldn't look behind a picture? It was such a cliché, but they still did it.
At opposing ends of the mantelpiece stood silver candlesticks; twisting them both clockwise, he heard a latch click behind him. A small wooden wall panel had popped open. He gently swung the panel back, exposing the safe within. Rubbing his gloved hands together, he unzipped his bag and slipped out his equipment. Placing a small box of electronic wizardry next to the dial, and slipping earphones on, he set to work. The safe was quite modern but he cracked it easily. The thick steel door opened slowly, exposing the bounty inside; a smile spread across his face.
Pulling off the earphones and rubbing the inside of his ears, he remembered why he hated doing these safe jobs. The soft sponge always irritated his skin, making it itch in a place that was hard to scratch, deep within his ear. Halfway through, and still using his tongue to massage the roof of his mouth, he heard the
The meeting with the suits just over a week ago had been weird.
First, they didn't question or haggle over his fee, a fee he'd over-inflated due to the fact they looked loaded and the urgency with which they wanted the job performed. Clients who didn't question his fee always concerned him. Second, and more important, it was a very large fee for such a seemingly worthless commission. What would someone want with a two thousand-year-old lump of wood, regardless of its alleged origin? But, when all was said and done, he was still quietly kicking himself — he should have gone even higher.
And it still wasn't his weirdest job; that honour went to the people who'd hired him to break into the Sydney Zoo. There had been a package to be picked up, and then hidden in the koala petting area.
He'd never learned what was inside the package — but the way it felt and the way it sounded still gave him shivers some nights. It certainly had been important enough for them to pay a one hundred thousand-dollar fee — a fee that had helped dispel his nightmares and ease his sleep.
The instructions and information provided for the château job were the best he'd ever received. Plans of the grounds, blueprints, photos, schedules for the family and the staff, and the all-important alarm code
— all perfect, all adding up to make this one of the easiest scores ever.
Maybe too good to be true, which was why he'd done his own research.
Smiling to himself, he made his way towards his private goal.
The jewels contained within the château's safe were from the French
Revolution and would carry a hefty price tag on the black market.
This was going to be a good night's work.
Walking through the main lobby, he shone his torch up the walls alongside the marbled staircases. They were covered with what he assumed to be ancestral portraits: dark canvases mounted in heavy gilded frames. He berated himself a little, wishing he knew more about the art world; he felt sure they'd be worth a fair price. The rubber soles on his shoes squeaked as he moved through the lobby to the library doors between the stairs. Opening one of the double doors to the room, he waited for a moment, listening for any signs of life.
Once he felt confident the place was vacant, he entered.
The musty smell of old books and papers filled his nose, reminding him of his university days and the hours he'd wasted researching information he'd never need, nor ever use again. Looking up at the portrait above the fireplace, he reminisced about the jobs he'd done on safes hidden behind pictures. Shaking his head, he wondered. Did people really think a thief wouldn't look behind a picture? It was such a cliché, but they still did it.
At opposing ends of the mantelpiece stood silver candlesticks; twisting them both clockwise, he heard a latch click behind him. A small wooden wall panel had popped open. He gently swung the panel back, exposing the safe within. Rubbing his gloved hands together, he unzipped his bag and slipped out his equipment. Placing a small box of electronic wizardry next to the dial, and slipping earphones on, he set to work. The safe was quite modern but he cracked it easily. The thick steel door opened slowly, exposing the bounty inside; a smile spread across his face.
Pulling off the earphones and rubbing the inside of his ears, he remembered why he hated doing these safe jobs. The soft sponge always irritated his skin, making it itch in a place that was hard to scratch, deep within his ear. Halfway through, and still using his tongue to massage the roof of his mouth, he heard the
Similar Books
