Page 21 of The One-Night Heist

Let’s see where they dropped the ball.

Agent Markel made small talk with the curator as we walked through the empty galleries, which left me to mentally note the locations of all security cameras we passed along the way. It was a familiar exercise, casing a joint before a job, and for a few delusional minutes, I felt like myself again.

We reached the East Gallery—roped off with an “installation in progress” sign—and my gaze immediately fell on the empty pedestal case on the far side of the room. On instinct, I turned, finding the lone security camera mounted over the doorway.

Problem number one.

“Markel!” I barked. “Go take a closer look at that case, but don’t touch anything.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and snapping them on as he lumbered across the room. “This isn’t my first day on the job, Quincy.”

Could have fooled me.

“You see how his extra wide body completely blocks our view of the case?” I loudly pointed out to Sabina, making Markel glance over his shoulder and glare. “And between his height and how low the ceilings are, I bet the view from the camera is similarly obstructed.”

“Oh…” Sabina replied, looking from Markel to the camera and back to me. “Oh dear…”

“Yes,” I gravely stated. “It helps that your camera’s real.” I nodded toward the visible wires. “But I would suggest placing additional hidden cameras to catch the blind spots caused by oversized obstructions.”

“How the hell did he get inside this thing?” Agent Markel muttered, ignoring my jab as Sabina furiously took notes on her phone.

Deciding that question was meant for me, I walked over to where he was circling the case, running his gloved fingers along the edge of where the glass met the base.

I pointed at the tiny hinges, screwed in tight. “All you need is a small multi-tool to open this, like a Swiss Army knife.” I paused as Sabina joined us before adding, “The fact they were able to not just open but close the case back up is telling…”

And what it says is not good.

Most art heists were usually completed as quickly as possible, because planning and precision were key. The crown jewels were stolen from the Louvre in only seven minutes—in broad daylight, during museum hours—before the thieves escaped back out the window, down the cherry picker, and raced away on scooters. In that case, they smashed and grabbed, because they didn’t have time to leisurely open and close the glass cases.

“Our security guard at the front checks bags and purses extensively as visitors arrive,” the curator earnestly explained. “He has a metal detector wand as well, so I’m not sure how a tool like that could have slipped by him.”

“Because even a metal nail file would have worked.” I smiled encouragingly because these fuck ups were absolutely not the responsibility of the woman before me. “And it’s very easy to make multi-tools look like other things.”

To demonstrate, I unfastened the carabiner keychain from my belt loop to show off the incredibly handy tools hidden inside—including a mini screwdriver.

Just giving all my tricks away for free.

Markel narrowed his eyes. “Do you have that on you when you come down to the field office?”

I gave him a flat look. “Yes, but don’t worry. I promise not to steal the duplicate file you keep on me in the bottom right drawer of your desk.”

“My locked drawer, you mean?” he growled, but I was saved from replying by a voice behind us.

“Agent Markel? Forgive the delay…”

I turned to find a tall, gray-haired man in his late sixties filling the doorway. His navy blue suit was immaculate but he looked exhausted, which brought up the uncomfortable realization that was because of the theft he was dealing with.

Sigh.

This empathy bullshit needs to fuck off.

“Oh, hello, Brad!” The forced smile and clear concern on her face had me feeling emotions all over again. “Allow me to also introduce Rowen Quincy. He’s a consultant with the Art Crime Team and has had some incredibly thought-provoking suggestions on how to improve our security.”

More like basic common sense.

Luckily, I had enough common sense to not say that out loud, and when the museum director turned his attention on me, I was more than happy to show off how much more of an expert I was than Markel.

“Yes,” I cleared my throat and put on my Professional Voice. “Sabina and I have briefly discussed installing more cameras per room to eliminate blind spots, but I would suggest having your guard at the front check bags as visitors exit the museum as well. An X-ray security machine would help with identifying contraband coming in or going out.”