We watched the Mercedes pull out of the driveway, his wife next to him in the front seat. The girl was already out for the evening. We figured on a few hours.
The back of the house was protected by an unbroken row of thick hedges. Max unscrewed the top of a cardboard tube, the kind you keep an expensive fishing rod in. Pulled out two aluminum poles. They telescoped like car antennas. He cross-latched the two poles with some X-braces, making a ladder. Max went up first, climbing backwards as easy as if he was using a staircase. The Mole followed him, satchel on a strap over his shoulder. I came next- the Mole was no athlete.
It was a short drop to the ground. The windows were free of burglar-alarm tape. The doctor's wife wouldn't like the look. The Mole fluttered his hand- a flag in a breeze. Motion sensors. 'Hard-wired,' he whispered. 'Expensive.'
'Can you take it out?' I asked.
The Mole didn't answer, looking through the window with some kind of lens held up to his glasses. 'There,' he said, pointing.
I saw a wooden box in a corner of the living room. Some kind of dark wood, a slim crystal vase standing on top. A tiny red light glowed near the base.
The Mole fumbled in his satchel. Max braced the pane of glass with his hands as the Mole fitted a tiny drill against the surface. He nodded. Scratched an X on the glass with a probe, fitted the drill point into it. Pressed the trigger. A split-second whine. He reversed the drill bit, pulling it free of the glass. Then he threaded a wire through the hole. Attached the other end of the wire to something inside his satchel. The Mole pushed a toggle switch and the red light on the box inside the house winked out. I could have opened the back door with a credit card.
We left Max on the first floor in case somebody came home. The Mole took the upstairs bedrooms, I hit the basement.
The doctor had a nice little home-office setup downstairs. IRS would approve. I pulled the antenna on the same little box Terry had used to show off for his mother and went to work. It only took a couple of minutes. Second-rate wall safe behind a framed painting of assholes on horses chasing a fox. Amateur Hour. I could have knocked off the dial and pried the thing open in twenty minutes.
It took the Mole less than five. It looked like gray putty he pasted around the edges of the safe. Until you saw the fuse. When he touched it off, we stepped back to watch. A soft pop and the door crumpled.
Our Krugerrands were inside. The doctor liked gold. Canadian Maple Leafs, Chinese Pandas, Australian Koalas. American cash in neat stacks. A small leather loose-leaf book. A Canadian passport. The doctor was prepared- but not for us. We took it all.
AN AMATEUR steals only when he's broke. I'm a professional- I work at my trade.
It didn't stop the pain, just put it on hold.
I've had bad dreams all my life. But now it was sad dreams…bone-marrow pain. Belle. I never would have left her. Now she wouldn't leave me.
I told Michelle I'd pick Terry up at Lily's. Got there early, looking around. Waiting. Lily came down the corridor at high speed, shrugging out of her parka, long black hair streaming out behind her. 'Tell her I'll call her back!' she shouted over one shoulder. She pulled up when she saw me, a busty, glowing woman with a scar over one of her big dark eyes. Lily's old enough to have a teenage daughter, a little heart-breaker named Noelle, but she looks like she's still in college. Noelle's at the age where she's always griping because her mother isn't stylish enough. She tried to get me on her side once.
'Don't you think Mom would look cool with her hair up?'
'Your mother is beautiful, baby. She looks like the Madonna.'
'Oh, Burke!' the kid shrieked. 'She's not even blond!' It's not a generation-gap anymore, it's a time-warp.
I waited until she ran up on me. 'Hi, Lily.'
Her face was reserved, eyes watchful. 'Is there trouble?'
'I'm here to pick up Terry.'
'Okay.' Dubious.
I lit a cigarette, ignoring her frown, moving aside to let her pass.
She wasn't going for it. 'She doesn't bring Scotty herself.'
'Scotty?'
Her eyes raked my face, looking for the truth. A trained therapist against a state-raised thief. No contest. I knew who she meant. Scotty was the little boy sodomized by a freak who had a feeder deal with a day-care center. The freak took a picture of his fun- took the little boy's soul for a souvenir. The kid never told anybody until he let it slip to the mother of a little girl he played with. The devil stole his soul, so he asked a witch to get it back. Strega. Flame-haired, steel-hearted Strega. I made a promise to her. To never come back. If she and Wesley mated, their child could walk through Hell in a gasoline overcoat.
Immaculata came down the hall, her arms on the shoulders of the pair of ten-year-olds framing her slender body. One kid was black, the other white. Her long nails made bright slashes of color as she emphasized her words, looking for the right chord to play. Her English was perfect, but the Catholic school in Vietnam where she learned it left a few things out.
'Benny, the very last thing on earth you need is
She pulled up short when she saw me standing with Lily. Raised her eyebrows in a question. I shook my head.
'Burke, these are my friends. Benny and Douglas.'
I shook hands with each of them. Benny tugged at Immaculata's smock.
'What's coals to Newcastle?'
'Cocaine to Colombia,' I told him.
A grin flashed. He raised an open palm and I slapped him a high-five. His buddy grinned.
'Maybe you missed your calling,' Immaculata said, pulling the kids down the hall with her, leaving us alone.
Lily wouldn't let it go. 'You came here to volunteer…teach one of our self-defense classes?'
I dragged on my cigarette. Lily wasn't an ex-con, but she had enough patience for a dozen of them. 'Can I talk to you for a minute?'
'Come on,' she said, charging down the hall to her office. She walked through the open door, tossed her parka on a couch already overflowing with files, plopped herself in a battered old chair next to the computer she only used for video games. She didn't wait for me to work around to it. 'What?' she demanded.
'I lost a friend. Somebody close to me.'
'How?'
'She was murdered.'
'Oh. You know who did it?'
'Yes.'
'Is he…the perpetrator…arrested?'
'No. And he's not gonna be.'
'Why?'
I held her eyes until she understood. 'And that didn't end it for you?'
'No.'
Lily combed both hands through her thick hair, pulling the mane off her forehead. 'You don't know about grief, do you, Burke? You pay your debts, it's supposed to be all done, right?'
I nodded.
'Your friend…you loved her?'
'Still do.'
She watched my face. 'And she knew? You told her?'
