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“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” Ryan said.
“Joe,” Julia said, “there are other words.”
For once he didn’t soften at her gentle reprimand. “Elle. We’ve screwed up. Our information was wrong. There’s a second security system inside the house. It’s seriously high-tech and it’s monitoring the artwork. I’m betting we’ve already triggered a silent alarm.”
They could hear Elle tapping furiously. “No police callout. Must be a private security firm. See if you can get me a company name.”
“I’ll look for one. The rest of you scatter,” Joe shouted. “Find the mummy. We don’t have much time. Minutes at best.”
The women ran.
Joe followed the wiring, looking for a name, for anything at all that would tell them who’d installed the system and who was monitoring it. “Whoever this is, they’re good,” he told Elle. “Ryan, you got anything?”
“No.”
He heard running. Doors slamming.
“I’ve got it!” Patricia shouted, no longer caring if anyone heard.
“Ryan, go help them. I’ll keep looking.” Ryan ran after the women. “Ed? Any activity out there?”
“Nothing. I’m going to get the van running and make friends with the neighbour.”
“You think we can use their house to hide out until this is over?”
“It’s an option, and we don’t have many. I’ll look into it.”
“Callum?” Joe said.
“I’m on my way. I’m heading for the back of the property. There’s a driveway leading up to the house next door.”
Over his comm, Joe heard a car swerve. “Same house as Ed’s flirty maid?”
“Yeah.”
“Joe,” Ryan said, “we’ve got a problem.”
Joe started running. “I can’t look for a name, Elle. We’ll just need to see who turns up.”
“I’ll keep digging,” she replied. “There are other things I can do. The clinic at the end of the street is about to have a fire alarm problem. I’m hoping it will cause enough chaos to hide your getaway.”
Sure enough, Joe heard the wailing alarm as soon as Elle finished telling him her plan. He ran up a few short stairs to a mezzanine level that backed onto the manicured garden and endless pool. The wall at the back of the property was high, cutting them off from the neighbo
urs and making sure the garden wasn’t overlooked.
“What is it?” He skidded to a halt in the middle of a room full of dead people.
There were pedestals everywhere. Each had a large glass dome on top, and under the domes sat the curled figures of mummified bodies, each one with its knees up to its chest and its arms wrapped around it. Twelve—there were twelve bodies. Their time-leathered skin had taken on the colours of the desert, and looked tight, wrinkled and brittle over their bones. It was hard to believe the husks had once been walking, talking people. Now they looked more like the contemporary art dotted throughout the building.
Around the mummy cases, the walls were filled with vibrant contemporary paintings of nudes, as though Hayes was trying to contrast life and death. It was a strange art exhibition. Made even more disturbing because it had only ever been intended for an audience of one.
“The pedestal is embedded in the concrete floor,” Ryan said. “The dome is sealed onto the pedestal with this welded bar.” He pointed at the metal rim that encircled the dome.
“Smash it,” Joe said without hesitation.
“We tried,” Ryan said grimly. “Reinforced glass.”
“We can’t shoot it. It’ll take several bullets, and someone would call the cops,” Joe said.
