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For several months before Fred Silva had turned up, I had been planning a job I wanted to do for myself. These days I mostly acquired things for other people, things they wanted to collect but weren't for sale, things they would pay exorbitant amounts for. Once or twice a year when I heard of something special that appealed to me, I would get it for my own collection. Now that the Silva business was out of the way, I was ready to get back to my own goals, so two days later I was back in my black outfit with my hair again twisted up under a black stocking cap.
I had planned to use the same car I had used in grabbing LeAnn. Now, instead, I would drive a small, nondescript, dark blue sedan. The looks were deceptive. The engine was specially designed to outrun anything on the road, and the safety features were way above those that could be purchased on the open market. I didn't ever plan to need the special abilities of the car, but it paid to be prepared. The only car I owned without the special features was an all-original salmon-colored 1960 Ford Thunderbird. My old car stood out way too much to use for my kind of work, so I only drove it now and then, and just for fun.
The target house was in Scottsdale. It could honestly be called a mansion and not a McMansion. This was the real deal. When I'd first begun getting hints that the item I wanted might be located there, I'd considered the information plausible and certainly hoped it was true, because the house was situated on twelve acres of grounds, so there weren't any close neighbors, always a plus for getting in and out without being seen. The owner had one of the largest and most famous collection of gemstones in the country. I didn't intend to steal the whole collection. I didn't work that way, at least not anymore. There was a time when early poverty fueled my desire to avoid ever being poor again. Now, poverty was so far behind me that the things I took were strictly for my own pleasure.
Tonight's visit to the Haversham Mansion was based on a rumor and a lot of research that led me to believe the rumor was credible. If so, I planned to acquire the famous Florentine diamond. This diamond originally weighed one hundred thirty-seven point two-seven carats before it was cut in 1981 to a mere eighty-carat jewel. Then that jewel was sold, and since that sale its location had been classified as unknown. From what I could learn, I was almost sure Floyd Haversham's father had purchased the famous diamond back when he'd begun the Haversham Collection. His son had carried on the family tradition. If the father had purchased it originally, I didn't doubt his heir still retained possession. They didn't show their collection except to intimate friends and kept their catalog a private matter. In my world, this indicated that at least some of their acquisitions weren't quite on the up and up. If I managed to appropriate the Florentine diamond, I didn't believe the family would raise a hue and cry, since they wouldn't want the police prowling through their possessions. I intended to find out if they actually had the diamond I wanted, and soon thereafter, how they would handle their loss.
Tonight, there was a political dinner in the longstanding downtown restaurant, Durant's. The governor was up for reelection in a few months, and one of his rich supporters was throwing a thousand dollar-a-plate fundraiser. The gossip columns had generously supplied the useful information that Haversham and his wife would be attending. The only other member of their family was a son, but it was common knowledge that he was currently away at college. The dinner was from eight until eleven. They couldn't possibly eat for three hours, so I assumed there would be political speeches and food. The family only kept four servants on the property, and, conveniently, they lived in a building separate from the main house. A carefully cultivated friend who worked for the Haversham's alarm company had supplied me with the information necessary to circumvent the mansion’s alarm. He couldn't give me the exact code, but a little rewiring would serve the same purpose. I had practiced the rewiring necessary until I could do it in twenty seconds. This was well under the time the company allotted for the homeowner to turn off their alarm when entering their house.
The next hurdle had been where to leave my car when I approached the main building. I wanted to go across the rear of the property and enter by the back door. This area was landscaped with citrus and shade trees and other lush plantings, so it would afford better cover than the huge carpet of open green space in the front. The street abutting the back side of the property was part of a subdivision. Many of the residents had more cars than would fit in their driveways, and they parked the extra vehicles on the street. Their visitors also parked on the street. I decided if I left my SUV between two houses and not too close to a streetlight, it was unlikely anyone would notice the one extra vehicle. I shouldn't have to leave it there long enough to cause concern. This left me a bit of a walk, but that wasn't a hardship, because I exercised vigorously and jogged three to five miles most days. In my line of work, I knew a time might come that being in shape could save my life.
When I got out of my car, I was almost sure I saw a familiar face in a car parked about a half a block down. If Blake Slater were here to steal my diamond, he was in for a rude shock. Several times in the recent past, I had run into this elusive thief at places where I was doing a job. It was beginning to seem too often to be coincidence. I suspected there were times when my clients also hired Blake. The type of collectors I worked for would continue to have items they wanted to add to their collections. There was every likelihood they would want to try more than one thief to hunt down the things they wanted before eventually settling on one they trusted. I'd never known them to hire two of us for the same job, though, which meant there was no good reason for Slater to turn up so often. The man was devastatingly handsome and more than a little flirtatious, but so far, he hadn't caused me any problems. Tonight was different. There was no client involved. This time I wanted the item for myself, and if Blake had other ideas, he was in trouble because I didn't intend to let this gem get away.
As I walked quietly across the property, there was the heavenly smell of citrus trees in bloom. The orange trees were flowering—the scent was one of my favorite perfumes, and I had to force myself not to linger. The route I'd chosen passed close to the servants’ quarters. As I approached, I could see the purple glow of the TV in their recreation room. I assumed they wouldn’t hear me over the noise, and since I'd picked a night with no moon, I wouldn't be visible from their windows during my approach. Surely none of them would be dedicated enough to be at work in the big house this time of night. My worst moment of exposure would be when I was on the back porch picking the door lock. The back of the house was lighted, and anyone looking closely from the servants’ quarters might be able to spot me, but I'd decided the risk was within the reasonable range. It would be pure bad luck if someone happened to be staring out into the night during the minute or two I would need to gain entry.
I picked the lock quickly. The brand was one of the many I'd practiced on in the past and didn't offer any resistance. The quick switching of wires went off without a hitch, and the alarm was silenced. I was inside with no indication that I'd been spotted.
The house was huge. It was a two-story rambling architectural nightmare even before Floyd Haversham had added another wing. I'd studied the plan filed with the city during construction of this addition, and I was fairly sure one of the new rooms on the second floor contained a huge walk-in safe. I used a small flashlight so no light would show outside the house as I maneuvered my way upstairs to my objective. When I found the room I wanted, it was locked in a much more efficient way than the doors I'd encountered so far, and I smiled. I was sure this proved I was right about the collection being inside. This lock was complicated and required special tools. I'd come prepared. Even though it took me ten minutes to open the door, I didn't try to hurry because I had allowed myself plenty of time for whatever was needed. The house plans had indicated that this room had no windows or doors except the one I'd used to enter. After listening for a moment and hearing only silence, I turned on the lights. The room was lined with glass shelves, and even though I'd been expecting something spectacular, I was stunned by what I saw. Each shelf was lighted from above and below, and glass doors fastened with simple locks I could have picked with a hairpin protected the contents from dust. The room was probably twenty by thirty feet long. There were lighted shelves on all four walls arranged perfectly at eye level. The center of the room contained several glass cases, and every shelf and case contained either individual gems or jewelry containing gems. It was an unbelievable sight. The walls above the shelves were bare and the floors were an uncovered light wood. Anything they could have put on the walls or floor would have paled into insignificance compared to the Haversham collection. I had expected a safe and had even brought a small amount of plastic explosive to limit the amount of time I'd need to open it. This poorly protected room seemed like the height of folly.
I quickly began looking for the gem I'd come for. I could eliminate three-fourths of the shelves and all the cases because they contained jewelry, and I was looking for a single stone. I found it almost immediately on the first shelf to my left. It was flanked by several large diamonds of unusual color, but its shimmering yellow-green color and unusual cut stood out even among its exquisite neighbors. It seemed to have a magical air, and was even more beautiful than I'd imagined.
I'd just reached for the gem when I heard movement outside in the hall. Damn, could nothing ever come off without a hitch? I put the Florentine diamond in the velvet pouch I'd brought along for that purpose and zipped the pouch carefully in a pocket of my small equipment pack. There wasn't anywhere to hide in this room filled with glass, so I walked to the wall where I would be behind the door if it opened and waited to see what would happen. I also got my specially designed taser out and ready. I didn't want to kill any innocent bystanders, and so far, I never had. I thought I probably would if it were the only way to escape, but a little ingenuity had prevented the necessity so far.
I stood silently behind the door listening to the footsteps getting closer. There wasn't much hope that whoever was out there wouldn't check this room, because they'd opened every door in the hall so far. This treasure room had to be their biggest concern. When the door opened, a man immediately stepped into the room, but he was looking straight ahead at the wall of gems. I crept up intending to stun him before he turned and noticed me, but something alerted him to my presence. He was quick and whirled and fired one shot a second before my taser put him down. The bullet grazed the top of my left shoulder. The pain was nasty, but the wound had to be a deep scratch since it hadn't disabled my arm. The stun gun's effect would keep him down for now, but I needed to make my getaway quickly. I used a cloth from the equipment bag to stuff under my shirt so I wouldn't leave any blood, and then walked to the wall where his bullet had lodged. I carved out a small section that held the bullet. I never left anything behind with even a remote possibility it contained DNA, since neither my fingerprints or DNA were on file and I wanted to keep it that way. It had taken some doing to purge my youthful prints from the system. I was congratulating myself for the way I'd handled the slight snafu as I dragged him out of the way so I could close the door behind me. That's when the radio on his belt crackled and a voice said, “Hey, Pete, I've finished checking the first floor and all's clear. Are you about done up there? I'm ready to pop the pizza in the microwave.”
This wasn't good! He had a partner. I was beginning to understand why Haversham believed he had no need for a safe. Obviously, he employed security guards at least during the nighttime hours, maybe twenty-four-seven. I had no way to know how many security men roamed the premises, but I knew of two for sure. My taser’s stun function took a full ten minutes to recharge after each use. Because its effect lasted longer than most similar weapons, it used more power and so it took longer to recharge after each use. Normally, this suited me fine. Tonight, maybe not so much. When Pete didn't answer the call, the second guard would come right up, was probably on his way already. This room didn't offer any solution to my problem, so I slipped out the door, letting it lock behind me. I chose the next door down the hall. This lock was a simple affair, and I picked it in seconds and slipped inside. Haversham must have wanted to be near his collection, because using my flashlight to glance around told me this had to be the master bedroom. I could hear the second guard on the floor. He was trying all the doors. First, he tested each door in the hall, and when he found them all locked, he used his radio to once more try to contact his partner. Failing this, he went back to the beginning of the hall and began unlocking each door in tur,n looking for a problem. This room was my last refuge. I could either shoot him when he opened the door, or I could find a way out of the house from here. I had a little time, because when he opened the door of the treasure room and found his partner, I was sure it would slow his progress. At that point, he might or might not search the rest of the rooms or he might call the police, but I was confident Haversham had given his guards instructions to handle problems in-house.
The first guard hadn't hesitated to fire when he'd discovered me. I had no way of knowing how serious Haversham was about keeping the police away from his collection, but the guards seemed to take their duty seriously. For me it didn't matter much, because either way, I needed to be gone immediately if I wanted to avoid shooting anyone.
I looked out both bedroom windows. The yard lights below allowed me to see fairly well, but these second-story windows offered no easy way down. The only option was to jump. If I injured myself in the landing, my goose was cooked. I went into the adjoining bathroom. This window was a lot smaller than the bedroom ones, but not too far down was an old grapevine that might hold my weight, or at least break my fall. I didn't know if I could wiggle through the small opening. I had a momentary vision of the guard walking into the room and seeing my butt wedged tightly in the window. The thought struck me as funny, and I had to work hard to suppress a giggle. I got control of myself, climbed on the edge of the tub, and opened the window. As soon as I got my shoulders through, I was confident the rest of me would fit, but I'd scraped the bullet wound on the jamb and the pain made me dizzy. I took a second to clear my head, reached for the vine, and pulled myself the rest of the way outside. I turned back to make sure I hadn't left any blood on the window. So far, nothing had seeped through the rag I'd stuffed under my shirt. The vine was old, thick, and strong, and seemed capable of holding my weight. It was full of dried branches, and I was getting scratched up some, but I protected my face and descended. As I inched my way toward the ground, the vine bent away from the wall a foot or two, but I was able to climb down far enough to jump safely to the ground. I pushed the vine back into what I thought was its normal shape and began making my way among the trees in the citrus grove back toward the car.
No sound pursued me, and I was beginning to feel safe when I heard a twig crack directly behind me. I whirled, ready for a fight. Standing close enough to touch me was Blake. He had his empty hands out in front of him indicating he didn't intend me harm. I, on the other hand, had my stun gun pointed at his chest. I didn’t know if it had recharged, but I would have given it a try if I’d needed to. I sucked in my breath and said, “What in the hell do you think you're doing? I might have killed you, and it would have served you right. Why are you here, anyway?”
He did his sexy raised-eyebrow trick. “I suppose I'm here for a similar reason to yours. The fact that the newspaper made it so clear the homeowners would be out made tonight the perfect time for a little visit. Luckily, it seems we weren't both after the same thing, because I got what I came for and I'm assuming you did also.”
Here I got another wag of the eyebrows as he said, “Let me congratulate you on your graceful exit. I was so entertained I almost forgot I needed to make my own hasty getaway.”
Nothing like showing your worst moves to a competitor. “Congratulations. You'll forgive me if I don't stop to chat, but I'd like to be a long way from here when the Havershams get home.”
I turned back around, stuck my nose in the air, and marched off. I could hear his soft laughter behind me. Damn the man!
When I reached the car, I was slightly shaky but okay to make the drive home. I was looking forward to a long, hot soak in the tub.
In the morning, I saw my clothing had protected me from the worst of the vine's possible damage and that I'd been right about the bullet wound, as it had turned out to be no more than a bad scratch. The treatment I'd given it after my bath the previous night was all the help it needed. Actually, I felt pretty good, considering. I got a cup of coffee and turned on the computer to check for the latest Phoenix news. There was lots of coverage of last night's fundraiser, and Floyd Haversham even got his picture online, but as I'd expected, there was no mention of a robbery at his house.
After reading the article, I wondered idly what Blake had taken. Whatever it was hadn't been mentioned, either. He was an intriguing man, but I suspected he could also be a dangerous one. I remembered how quietly he'd snuck up on me the night before.
My next job was already in the planning stage, but if I approached it leisurely, I would need about six months to be ready. That suited me fine because I never did more than one or two jobs a year anyway, at least for myself.