Steal Page 2

  He heard Simon's door open and Jim came out, walking over to him at the desk. Blair pushed his chair away from the computer and looked at his partner, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

  "Come on, partner. We've got work to do."

  Blair shut off the computer and hurried to catch up. Jim was holding the elevator door open as he stepped in. He waited until the doors were shut, and he knew they were alone. "Did you say we?"

  "That's right, Chief." Jim turned to face him in the elevator. "Listen, I'm sorry about that. Simon's right, this case is perfectly safe and I could use you."

  "This is about that nightmare, isn't it? Jim, whatever it was, it was just a bad dream."

  "I know, I know. It was just so real. Brackett was there, and you...I think it might be time for you to start carrying a gun, that's all."

  "That's your answer right there, Jim," Blair said, relieved now that Jim was confiding in him. "It's not you, it's Brackett. I mean, God, the man gave me nightmares for weeks." He shook his head at the memory, then patted Jim on the arm as the elevator doors opened. "Like you said, just let it go." Jim nodded and they both walked back to the truck. "And as for me and guns, man, I still don't think that's such a good idea."

  "I just think with you working undercover with me so much now, that it would be a good idea to get you better equipped, that's all."

  Blair was shaking his head as they climbed into the truck, but he could tell from the tone of Jim's voice that he was serious. They'd had this discussion once before, but at the time, he was insistent on being just an observer. Now, if it really meant Jim would feel more comfortable about having him along...It wasn't about him anymore, it was about Jim. "Look, if it would make you feel better, maybe I can see giving it a try. But frankly, I think you'd have more to worry about if I was armed." Jim smiled a little and started the truck. "By the way, where are we going?"

  "Bryce has a meeting set up for us with a safe man, an ex-con he knows who's offered to show us the ropes."

  "Great." Blair felt better now that they were back on track. "Listen, from what I could find, I think our best bet here will be to go with your sense of touch. Those electronic devices they use to crack the newer models use an ultra-sensitive vibration detection. You just turn up the ol' touchy feely, and I think it'll work."

  "Good." Jim drove out of the garage and headed towards the highway that would take them the 30 miles to the airport. "Listen, Chief, it really wasn't about me not trusting you." He glanced at Blair. "Because I do trust you, okay?"

  Blair nodded, "Okay. Hey, man, like I said, Brackett ruined my nerves for weeks."

  "Now, believing you is another story. We're going to have to have a talk soon about these embellishments and obfuscations of yours."

  Blair rolled his eyes but said nothing. He thought he was pretty good at it, and even Jim never found out about most of them, unless he confessed. Besides, lying had helped him get out of that helicopter, and several other situations. And it had helped Captain Taggert when he needed it most. Of course, it also got him into the occasional jam with a date, but that could often be fixed. It was the truth that got him into more trouble. Telling Christine the truth had ruined their relationship. Even after Jim's advice about honesty and commitment.

  Traffic in that direction in the mornings was pretty light, so they arrived at their destination within 20 minutes. Jim pulled up beside a small, run-down garage two miles from the end of the airport's main runway. As they got out of the truck, a 747 took off above them. Blair had to hold his ears as the jet thundered by, creating a deafening roar that vibrated through his bones. He looked at Jim who was squinting a little, but hadn't covered his ears. The building they were supposed to find this ex-con in was so small and old, Blair wondered why it hadn't shaken apart with the constant pounding of noise. After the jet passed by, Jim motioned for Blair to follow him into the garage. As he knocked on the door, Blair glanced back towards the runway.

  "Jim, you're going to have to block that out and concentrate on just your one sense."

  "I know. Maybe there's something to this equipment of his after all." Jim turned back to the door as it opened. A short, older man stood there, looking up, and Jim showed him his badge. "I'm Detective Ellison, this is my partner, Blair Sandburg. We were sent by Detective Bryce."

  Blair watched the man examine Jim's badge, then both of their faces, before nodding and turning around to walk back inside. Jim motioned for Blair to follow and he entered the building. Inside the front door, was another door. In fact, another building. Blair followed Jim as he stepped into the garage, and then through the second, much thicker door, and into a deceptively large room filled with steel safes of many shapes and sizes and all manner of electronic equipment. When Blair pulled the heavy door shut behind him, the soundproofing of the room made his ears suddenly feel like popping. It was like being inside a gigantic padded room, and the bubble of quiet after such thundering of jets outside was eerie.

  "So, you need to become a safe cracker overnight?" Blair watched as the man moved around to stand behind a small desk that held a safe about the size of Jim's computer monitor. "Well, I owe Bryce a favor, so I'm your man. The name's McCoy. Duggan 'Fingers' McCoy. Maybe ya heard of me?"

  Blair tried not to laugh at the man as he was shaking Jim's hand. He was small, and maybe in his sixties, with wild white hair and a permanent squint to his eyes. The epitome of a 1930's small time hood straight out of an old black and white movie. Blair just nodded to him from his position beside Jim after the two of them shook hands.

  "I don't think so, Mr. McCoy. But then, I've only been a Detective in Cascade for the past five years."

  McCoy grumbled. "That figures. I've been in the slammer for the better part of 25 years." He waved a hand in the air and sat down, pointing to the safe on his desk. "Still, managed to keep my hands in, as it where. And it's Fingers to you two."

  Blair couldn't help a slight chuckle then and tried to look away. Jim raised one eyebrow and glanced at him before turning back to Fingers. "What can you teach me in eight hours?"

  "Ha! Eight hours I can maybe teach you which end of the safe is the door." Fingers shook his head in disgust. "You kids today, it's always rush rush rush. Never a thought to the fine arts. Never a thought to tradition, honor." He was still shaking his head as he produced a small black box from one of the desk drawers and handed it to Jim.

  Blair stood next to him and examined the box his partner was holding. It wasn't any bigger than a tv remote control, with a small LED display at the top, no buttons, and three lead wires coming out the bottom, each with small magnets at the ends.

  "That right there just might be your salvation, Detective." Fingers said, pointing to the box. "That right there is what you kids would call easy money. Takes most of the guess work right out of it. Technology today, no respect for art." He shook his head again.

  Blair glanced at Jim, smiling, and noticed his partner's raised eyebrow.

  "So, these are the safes they use in the hotels?" Jim asked, pointing to the small one on the desk.

  "That'd be them all right." Fingers ran his hands lovingly over the steel top. "Simple, yet efficient. Twelve digit electronic tumbler." He grasped the round dial on the front of the door and gave it a spin. "Can be changed by coding in a new combination, and sending the information right through this little spot here." He pointed to a small black square next to the handle. "Uses computer chips, like every other damn thing these days." He shut the door to the safe and spun the dial again. "There, now it's locked, and only the computer knows the combination." He reached out and took the black box from Jim, placing each magnet at points to the left, right, and directly above the dial. Once done, he turned the box itself around, and Blair noticed the magnetic strip at the back, which he used to secure the box to a point just up and to the left of the dial. "Now, you put these here, and the unit right there. It's an ultra sensitive motion detector, that will focus on three areas only, with high intensity magnetics." He
paused and looked up at Jim. "You don't wear a pacemaker, do you?" Jim just shook his head. "Didn't think so. You look like the healthy type to me. Damn muscle men these days. Probably eat tofu or some such crap huh?" Before Jim could reply, or Blair could try and cover his reaction, Fingers continued. "Now, the box will do most of the work, but it's very sensitive. If you are too heavy handed, or not paying attention, you'll be spending time in jail with all the other guys who thought eight hours was enough. Oh, that's right, you're the cops." He waved a hand in the air, dismissing that thought. "Well, go ahead. And remember, if you don't pay attention to the display, and keep turning after a number has been located, it's all over."

  Part 2

  * * *

  Jim glanced at Blair, then moved around behind the safe and took gentle hold of the dial. He knew this was a practice run, and his first, at that. But he was already tensing up. With his tactile sense turned on full, the dial's tiny ridges felt almost sharp against his Sentinel sensitive fingers. He turned the dial slowly, to the right, feeling each and every click of the tumbler's teeth as they searched for the proper combination against the lock. With such a tight focus, the safe became almost larger than life. The tumbler felt like the only thing in the room, and feather light. Suddenly, he felt a change in the pressure against the lock and he glanced up, seeing the red display and the number there. He was beginning to sweat with the focus, and the knowledge that he couldn't zone out completely on touch, or else he would lose the display altogether. He changed direction and turned the dial to the left, feeling each inaudible click of the teeth. Another number was displayed, this time a two digit one. Nine more to go. He turned the dial again to the right, feeling the sweat build on his forehead. If he zoned out here, he'd zone out in the field as well. Simon was right, he'd need Blair with him. The effort of such a tight focus, without losing the rest of his senses entirely, was exhausting. Two more digits. Again to the left. The muscles in his neck were beginning to feel the strain. One more digit. To the right. This time the dial was nearly all the way around before two more digits were displayed. Jim was ready to stop, but there were four more to go. He was vaguely aware of Blair's presence in the room, but he had lost all thought of Fingers McCoy as he concentrated again on turning the dial to the left. Two more digits came up almost immediately, startling Jim. His back was aching, and the cords in his neck were standing out. Why was he so tightly focused if the black box was doing all the work? He tried to lighten up, pull back on the tactile senses in his fingers and let the box find the last numbers. Just as the display began to form the image of the final two numbers, the tumbler fell one more click and an alarm went off somewhere in the little office.

  "I'd stick with your day job, if I were you." Fingers shook his head and walked across the room to shut down the alarm.

  "Jim, you were almost there. What happened?" Blair moved over to stand beside him.

  "I don't know. I was using my tactile sense, to feel the tumbler, but it was hard, you know? Such a tight focus, and trying not to zone out with it, I just decided to ease up on the last one, and let the box do the work."

  Fingers returned and pulled off the box, flipped a switch on the bottom, then re-attached it to the safe. "Again."

  Jim sighed, wiping some of the sweat from his forehead. "Jim, go ahead and focus, ignore the box. I'll keep my eye on it." Blair whispered.

  Jim just nodded, tried to stretch his back for a moment's relief, then once again took hold of the dial and started it turning to the right. This time, after only a few seconds, all thoughts and sights left him. The only thing in the world was the small silver box right in front of him, and the dial in his hand was the most important thing in his life. Jim felt himself becoming mesmerized by the feeling in his right hand, and the dial he was turning, ever so slowly. But once he was lost in the feeling, there was nothing left around him. Even time was gone. Suddenly, from somewhere far away, a hand touched his back, then another grabbed his arm. If it hadn't been for his focus on tactile responses, he might not have felt it at all.

  "Jim, you did it." Blair was gently but firmly holding his left arm and shaking slightly, trying to bring him out.

  Jim had to blink hard to shake the lingering fog and focus on Fingers as he walked around the desk to examine the black box. Jim looked down, and saw each display lit up, and the door to the safe open.

  "Damn kids today, think everything is a game. In my day, it took years to learn this stuff. Nowadays they crank out these safes almost as fast as hamburgers. Then, before you know it, there's a gizmo or gadget built to crack 'em." He took out a handheld keypad with a tiny display, punched a few buttons, then pointed the end of the unit at the small square beside the safe handle. After a few seconds, the door was shut again. "There, try it again." Fingers put the keypad down and sat in his chair, shaking his head. "In my day, we relied on touch. Nothing more." He leaned back in the chair and cracked his knuckles loudly. "Ah, what these fingers could do back then." He sighed. "You kids today, wouldn't know the first thing about cracking a safe without your tricks and gadgets to help you. Wouldn't know the fine art of romancing the steel box, like caressing a fine woman. You have to be gentle, slow, and oh so caring." He shook his head in disgust and waved a hand at Jim. "Well go on, start turning."

  Jim was already reaching for the dial, preparing to tune Fingers McCoy out altogether. He was aware of Blair standing right next to him, and he decided to focus completely, and ignore the box. If he could manage this buy using his Sentinel tactile sense, without zoning out, they wouldn't have any trouble convincing whoever was watching that they were pros. As long as he didn't zone out. Once again the dial became the most important thing in Jim's mind as he concentrated on what his fingers were feeling. And again, he felt Blair's light touch on his arm and stopped turning the dial immediately.

  "Again." Fingers punched in another combination, shaking his head in disgust.

  Jim practiced five more times, each one done without paying attention to the black box attached to the safe. By the end of the last run, Jim's back was aching and his neck was stiff. He tried not to zone out, but each time it was Blair's touch that brought him back. That might be a problem, if Blair was supposed to sit outside the room and keep lookout. They'd have to come up with something, but right now, he was too tired to worry about it.

  "Sure, it's easy for you, you've got these toys." Fingers tossed the combination keypad back into a drawer and began to detach the little black box from the safe. "In my day, it was art. And the loot was a reward. Almost a sin to be thrown in jail for doing what we did."

  "Tell that to people you stole from," Jim replied, accepting the black box he had removed. "You're sure this is the type of safe they use? What if there's a different style?"

  Fingers waved a hand in dismissal. "Trust me, this is them. If they have slipped in a few new ones, the drill will be the same. There's a keypad entry for the room, with a security card access. For that, we have a different toy." He reached into another drawer and pulled out a similar shaped unit, with just one lead coming off the main box. Attached to the end of the lead was a card the same size and shape of a credit card. "You just swipe this through the slot, flip this switch, and wait five seconds. The code will be displayed here." He pointed to the small LED area at the bottom of the unit. "It's that simple."

  "Where do you get this stuff?" Blair asked, examining the new box Jim was holding.

  "Hey, I'm legit now. Just ask my parole officer." Fingers replied hotly. "Get these from a friend of mine in the gadget business. Spend my time now teaching kids like you how to bust artists like me."

  Blair laughed a little and shook his head, glancing at Jim.

  "I'll be sure and let your parole officer know how helpful you've been." Jim said, nodding to Blair. "We've got work to do, Chief." He thanked Fingers again and followed Blair out through the heavily padded door, then the more flimsy garage door, and back to the truck. The sounds from the airport were almost a shock after the soundp
roof room they had just spent several hours in. Jim made sure to turned down his hearing until they were in the truck and driving away from the noise of the jets.

  Blair examined the boxes Fingers had sent with them and shook his head. "I think you'll be better off just using your sense of touch."

  "But what about zoning out? According to the plan, you're supposed to be out in the hallway. If I zone out completely on the safe, I won't even know when it's open."

  "I know, I know. And I've been thinking about that."

  "So what's your solution?"

  "I'll let you know when I have one," Blair replied, raising his eyebrows for a second. "You kids today, so impatient."

  Jim laughed and shook his head. They were pulling into the parking lot behind Detective Bryce's small building one block from the airport. They were parallel to the runway now and the noise was more tolerable as they made their way inside and found Detective Bryce in his small office.

  "Ah, Detective Ellison, Mr. Sandburg. You've been to see Duggan McCoy?"

  Jim smiled, "You mean, Fingers?"

  Bryce laughed and motioned for them both to take a seat in front of his desk. "Yes, he is a character, isn't he? Busted back in '68 for a five million diamond heist. He just got paroled about 2 years ago." He took some equipment and files from his bottom drawer and placed them on top of the desk. "So, it went okay? You can get into the safes with no trouble?"

  "Yeah, it went fine." Jim replied. "The new sensors they use these days must keep the safe companies on their toes."

  "And us." Bryce agreed. "Now, our two ladies here have a nice little system. Somehow, probably by hacking into the hotel's computer, they know who's coming in from where, and whether or not they've requested the use of an in-suite safe. The hotel's I've stayed in offer the kind you pay for if you access, but these high-priced suites charge a flat fee for the guest, and change the combination with each check-out." He pushed the files to Jim. "There's a copy of everything we have on Meese and Stralin. They use these," Bryce lifted two small headsets from his desk and handed one to Jim and one to Blair. "To communicate during the job. Diana keeps an eye out while Jennifer does the work. They hit maybe three or four rooms in one night. Somehow, they've managed to stash the loot before we can get to them. And we've decided it's the boss that we want now. These small time busts for breaking and entering aren't getting us anywhere. They have to be stashing it, or passing it on somewhere in the hotel."