The Chase (9 page)

“To protect all of his stolen treasures.”

Nick shook his head. “That’d be overkill.”

“Have you seen his house? It’s a monument to overkill.”

“There won’t be any security in the secret room. Think of it as a vault. How many vaults have you seen that also have alarms inside? Everybody thinks the big door, and everything outside of it, is enough protection.”

“But you know it’s not,” Kate said. “And so does he.”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s arrogant. He’s got too much confidence in himself and his men.”

“You’re still guessing,” Kate said.

“It’s an educated guess.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“We’ll need a distraction.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Your dad,” Nick said. “What’s Jake got with him?”

“A handheld rocket launcher.”

“You have a very overprotective father,” Nick said. “When you were a teenager, how did he greet your dates? With a flamethrower?”

“With a foot-long combat machete, just like the one he gave me on my twelfth birthday.”

“Every girl should have one,” Nick said.

“Dad’s on a fishing boat in front of Carter’s estate. If we get into trouble, all I have to do is press the button on the tiny transmitter in my pocket and he’ll destroy the dome on top of Carter’s house. Is that enough of a distraction for you?”

“Maybe we can work out something a little more subtle.”

Nick, Kate, and Joe met in Boyd’s suite at the Regal later that afternoon to discuss the plan.

“Carter Grove has graciously turned off his alarm system and invited us into his house, saving us the trouble of breaking in,” Nick said. “While he gives Boyd and the film crew the grand tour, Kate and I will sneak into the home theater, open the hidden door, and steal the bronze rooster from the secret room. We’ll stash the rooster in a carrying case for a piece of the lighting equipment and take it out with us when the filming is done.”

“The alarm system will be turned off, but what about the security cameras?” Boyd asked. “You said there were cameras all over the place. How are you going to get around the cameras?”

“That’s what Joe is here for,” Nick said. “Yesterday, he set up shop in a construction trailer in an empty lot next door to Carter’s house. The trailer is located beside the utility boxes for the neighborhood’s electric, cable, and telephone services. He tapped into
those lines and breached Carter’s security system. While we were picking you up at the airport and bringing you here, Joe supervised the crew that was setting up the movie lights in Carter’s house.”

“I don’t know anything about lighting,” Joe said, “but I made sure there were some tall light stands placed throughout the house at the same height and angle as Carter’s security cameras. I hid tiny cameras of my own on the stands and filmed the empty rooms. When Kate and Nick slip into the theater, I’m going to replace the video feed from Carter’s surveillance cameras with a continuous loop of the footage I shot of the empty room.”

“Very clever,” Boyd said.

“And that’s not the only reason we have our own cameras everywhere,” Nick said. “Joe is going to be our guardian angel. He’ll be in the trailer watching everything that’s happening on all the cameras and will alert us if there’s any trouble.”

Boyd looked at Joe. “You’ll have to tell me where the cameras are so I can make sure they get my best angle.”

Kate groaned. “The only cameras you have to worry about are the ones filming the show.”

“Au contraire,” Boyd said. “An actor has to be constantly aware of his audience, whether they are in the front row or the cheap seats, if he is going to give a convincing performance.”

“Carter is the only one who has to be convinced,” Kate said.

“And the guards watching on the security cameras,” Boyd said. “If they don’t believe my performance, then the entire show fails.”

“We’ll make sure you know where all the cameras are,” Nick said to Boyd. “Just don’t look into them.”

“You’re talking to a professional,” Boyd said.

Joe handed Kate, Nick, and Boyd flesh-colored devices that looked like tiny hearing aids. “We’ll keep in touch with one another using these earbuds. They’re both earphones and mikes. They go deep in the ear and are pretty much undetectable unless someone gets very close.”

Boyd examined his earpiece with disdain. “I knew a Broadway actor who wore one of these so someone offstage could read him his lines. Nobody in the audience knew about it, of course. The critics thought the long pauses in his performance provided profound dramatic impact. In fact, he was just waiting to hear his next line. The fraud won a Tony Award.”

“That’s not what you’ll be using it for,” Nick said. “There’s no script and no lines to learn on this caper. Your job is to make the tour glamorous and entertaining for the viewer. So feel free to improvise, to find your character as you go.”

“This is why I love working with you,” Boyd said. “You know how to treat actors. Speaking of that, you mentioned Joe’s trailer. What about mine?”

“You don’t have one,” Kate said.

“But I’m the star of the show,” Boyd said. “The star always gets a trailer.”

“It’s a fake show,” she said.

“Then I need a fake trailer.”

“You’ll have to settle for an imaginary one,” Kate said.

The next day, the film crew arrived at the Carter Grove estate at 9
A.M.
in a convoy of cars, trucks, and vans led by Kate’s Ford Taurus. Dozens of people spilled out of the vehicles and swarmed over
the property, lugging cables, monitors, director’s chairs, microphones, lights, and all kinds of other paraphernalia. It was a lot of commotion, which was what Nick wanted. He’d purposely hired far more people and brought in more equipment than was necessary so there would be plenty of activity to keep the security guards busy.

Nick and Kate brought Boyd into the kitchen, where Carter Grove sat on a barstool having his makeup applied by a slim young woman.

“Mr. Grove, I’d like to introduce you to Boyd Capwell,” Kate said. “Our new host this season.”

Carter stood and Boyd offered him his hand. “This is a big thrill for me. I couldn’t possibly be more excited about this opportunity.”

Nick led them outside, where he introduced Carter and Boyd to the two shaggy cameramen, each of whom carried a lightweight digital camera and looked as if he washed his hair with bacon grease.

“We’re going to start here and go slowly through the house.” Nick turned to the cameramen. “Your job is to stay on Boyd and Mr. Grove and whatever they are reacting to.”

The cameramen nodded.

Nick turned to Carter. “Just do exactly what you did yesterday. Pretend the cameras aren’t here. We’ll try to keep ourselves and the crew out of your way, so we don’t end up in your line of vision. We want you to feel as if it’s just the two of you.”

“I can do that,” Carter said.

“Terrific,” Nick said. “Let’s make a TV show.”

• • •

The first room Carter took Boyd into was the Grand Salon with its domed skylight depicting the Roman gods. Boyd looked up at it while Carter told the story of the room pretty much word-for-word the way he had for Nick and Kate.

“You must get some monster cobwebs up there,” Boyd said. “How do you get rid of them?”

“I send some guys up on ladders once a month.”

“I wouldn’t want your window cleaning bills.” Boyd tapped his foot on the floor. “Is this real marble?”

“Imported from Italy. From Pietrasanta, to be precise, the same quarry where Michelangelo mined the stone he used to sculpt David.”

“Did you know that they have linoleum at Home Depot that looks just like marble now? It’s much cheaper.”

“It’s not the same,” Carter said, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“That’s for sure,” Boyd said. “Good luck trying to sculpt David out of it.”

Boyd laughed. Carter didn’t. Nick and Kate stood by the front door, far behind the cameramen.

Kate leaned over to Nick and whispered, “What the hell is Boyd doing?”

“He’s representing the audience by being the common man.”

“The common man is pissing Carter off.”

“It’s keeping Carter engaged and his attention focused on Boyd, which is what we want,” Nick said. “You do know that Boyd can hear you on his earbud, right?”

“Of course I do,” Kate said, but that was a lie. She’d forgotten.

“Carter is going to show Boyd his slot machine collection now,” Nick said. “This would be a good time for us to go to the theater. Joe, can you make us invisible?”

“No problem,” Joe replied, his voice transmitted to their earbuds from where he sat in the construction trailer on the empty lot next door. “Just wait until Boyd and Carter make their move down the corridor to the game room.”

Boyd took that as his cue to head toward one of the corridors off the foyer. “So where does this lead?”

“To the Sands Hotel and Casino, circa 1962,” Carter said.

“You’re kidding,” Boyd said. “This I’ve got to see.”

“Follow me.” Carter walked past him down the hall. Boyd and the cameramen went after him. At the same moment, Nick and Kate slipped away down another hall that branched off the foyer.

Nick had total faith that Joe, sitting out in the trailer, was tracking them and deftly replacing the live security camera feed with the footage he’d shot earlier of empty corridors and rooms.

“This is fun,” Nick said, stopping in front of the theater’s ticket booth.

“I’d be more comfortable doing this at night,” Kate said, “armed to the teeth, and wearing night vision goggles.”

“You’d be more comfortable doing
everything
that way.”

Nick and Kate slipped on disposable gloves, eased open the glass door to the theater, hurried past the concession stand, and stepped into the auditorium. The stage lights for filming were arranged on tall stands, but they hadn’t been powered up yet. Only the sconces were on.

Nick ran his hands over the blank wall as if he were smoothing out wrinkles on a bedspread.

“What are you doing?” Kate asked.

“Trying to find a switch.”

Nick looked at the sconces. He reached up and tugged on one of them. It held fast. He tried the other one. It turned, there was a click, and he stepped back just as the wall swung out toward them, releasing a burst of cool air from the room beyond.

“Voilà,” he said and stepped inside.

Of course Kate knew they were looking for a secret door, but when the wall actually opened, she felt a childish thrill. She’d never actually seen a secret door before. It was like something out of
Scooby-Doo
. She half expected a cartoon mummy to come running out, arms outstretched, trailing a tattered strip of bandage behind him.

Nick stopped on the first of two steps that led down into the room. Kate came up beside him and they stood there for a moment, getting the lay of the land.

The walls were painted black and adorned with paintings illuminated by carefully positioned pinpoint halogens. Pedestals and glass cases with sculptures, pottery, masks, and jewels were arrayed throughout the space and lit from below and above for full dramatic effect. Benches upholstered with red velvet cushions were placed in key positions that offered the best views of the artwork and displays.

Nick let his breath out slowly. “Holy crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t just a secret room. It’s the secret room to end all secret rooms.”

“It’s pretty nice, but it’s no Batcave.”

“It’s better than the Batcave. You’re looking at the hall of fame of art thievery.” Nick began pointing to various paintings and objects. “That’s an Edgar Degas drawing, part of the haul from the Gardner Museum in 1990, the biggest art theft in U.S. history. Over there is a Picasso taken from the Museu da Chácara do Céu in Rio de Janeiro in 2006. And in that display case on your left is a rare Abraham-Louis Breguet clock stolen from a museum in Paris in 1981.”

Kate pointed to a pedestal at the far end of the room. “And there’s the bronze rooster.”

Nick reached into his breast pocket, took out what appeared to be a pair of sunglasses, and slipped them on. “Damn.”

“What is it now?”

He removed the glasses and handed them to her. “See for yourself.”