Edinger resumed speaking. “Four eighty-eight at Chet Kesler’s Mobil station late last night. Maybe fifty, sixty bucks in quarters ripped off from the Coke machine. Same M.O. as the Thrifty-Wash theft last weekend. You find any juveniles carrying sharpened screwdrivers, I want to have a word with them.”
Trish struggled to catch her breath as she glanced self-consciously around the room. Aside from Wald and herself, only two other cops were in the audience, each cruising solo. A total of three units-standard for the mid- P.M. watch on a late-summer Saturday night. The watch ran until 4:00 A.M., overlapping the tail end of the night watch and the first hours of the graveyard shift.
“Another bicycle theft at Crestwood Apartments. They took somebody’s Schwinn off a bike rack in the carport. If you’re in the vicinity, swing through the parking lot and check it out.”
The steel rims of Edinger’s glasses flashed, his eyes screened by ovals of glare. He had the most completely hairless head Trish had ever seen.
“Oh, and one more item. You’ll be glad to know we successfully supervised another duck crossing at Lake and Third. There were no casualties.”
A scatter of ironic applause. Trish managed a smile.
Duck crossings, she had learned, were a common police call in town. Traffic would be stopped while a sluggish procession of waterfowl marched from curb to curb.
“That’s about it. Any questions” There were none. The meeting started to break up when the sergeant added, “Robinson. See you a minute”
The others, filing out, avoided looking at her as she made her way down the aisle.
This was bad. This was a demerit noted in her phase-board review.
Edinger stood with head lowered, making check marks on his legal pad, for a good deal longer than he probably had to, while Trish waited stiffly.
Finally he looked up. “Bored, Officer”
She didn’t understand. “Sir”
“Bored with your job Disappointed, maybe Work not living up to your expectations”
“No, sir-“
“I guess you’re finding it hard to take your duties seriously. Vending-machine rip-offs. Stolen bikes. Duck crossings. Not what you drilled for, is it”
She knew no answer was required.
“Drama, excitement. That’s why you joined up, right You wanted to be Starsky and Hutch. Didn’t you”
“No, sir.” She didn’t even know who Starsky and Hutch were.
“This is, what, your sixth night on patrol What’s the most exciting call you’ve been on”
“Uh … shots fired at Graham Park.”
“And it turned out to be …”
“Kids setting off firecrackers.”
“That’s fairly typical of a busy night here. You know, the last homicide we had in this part of Santa Barbara County was back in 1984. You would have been how old then Ten”
“Eleven. Sir.”
“Long time ago. Now, down in L.A. it’s a different story. L.A.’s got two thousand homicides a year. That’s where all the crazies are. You want excitement, go to L.A. You read me”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t be late again.”
He turned away, and she realized she had been dismissed.
Her stomach rolled and her shoulders shook as she retraced her steps toward the door where Wald waited.
Excitement, Edinger had said. What a joke.
She’d already had more than enough excitement for one night.
3
Alone, Cain crouched by the wrought-iron gate and unzipped the duffel bag.
Outside the gate stood an intercom mounted on a post. Below the speaker was a second, smaller panel featuring a digital keypad and an alphanumeric display-an alarm-system controller.
The system covered only the front and rear gates and the twelve-foot fence. Magnetic contacts on the gate latches would trigger an alert if separated while the system was armed. Motion detectors aimed at the fence made climbing into the yard impractical.
To disarm the system, Cain needed to enter the four-digit access code.
From the duffel he withdrew a digital decrypter.
Last Saturday night, exactly a week ago, he had opened the controller and wired the decrypter to leads running from the keypad to the central control panel inside the house.
With his tampering concealed, he had waited until the Kents returned from a night out and disarmed the system at the front gate. The decrypter’s I.C. chip had recorded and stored the access code when it was keyed into the pad.
Later he had removed the decrypter to prevent its discovery. Now he had to reinstall it.
His black leather gloves, skin-tight, compromised his dexterity not at all as he pried open the bottom of the controller console with the blade of his knife. Quickly he again wired the decrypter to the leads.
Then he downloaded the stored data, sending the access code to the controller in a burst of electronic information.
He looked at the keypad’s one-line liquid crystal display.
SYSTEM DISARMED.
The words remained in view for ten seconds, then blinked off, the screen going blank.
The gate’s latch was easy to defeat. He didn’t even require his locksmithing tools. The knife was enough.
He motioned to the others. They came fast across the road, brushing past him as they slipped through the open gate.
Before following, Cain downloaded the access code a second time.
A low buzz sounded, a pre-alarm warning, as the alphanumeric display flashed a new message.
SYSTEM REARMS IN 30.
The two digits ticked down, counting seconds.
29. 28. 27.
The grace period was designed to allow the homeowners to reset the alarm before entering. Very convenient.
He had no time to disconnect the decrypter, but that was all right. He was happy to let the police find it. The equipment, purchased on the black market, could not be traced.
He closed the bottom panel, sealing it with a strip of duct tape from his duffel. From the street no sabotage could be detected.
11.10. 9.
Better move.
Toting his duffel, Cain stepped through the gate, then let the latch click shut behind him.
The buzzer fell silent.
It was doubtful anyone inside the house would check the system in the next five minutes, but taking this precaution cost him nothing. And he wasn’t being entirely paranoid. One of the interior keypads was visible from the dining area, and there was at least a small chance someone would look in that direction.
Turning, he surveyed the grounds of the Kent estate, spacious, dense with shadows.
The front yard was empty. Already his crew had fanned out to the side and rear of the house, taking up their positions. They would stay clear of the fence to avoid being picked up by the motion detectors.
He checked his watch. 8:00. Right on schedule.
Despite the high stakes, the operation ought to be simple enough. Cain’s sole concern was the two Sharkey boys-last-minute replacements for Hector Avalon.
