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“We’d better get a move on, then,” Trixy said, bringing the building’s blueprints up on her tablet and leading the way.
They turned this way then that, finally stopping outside a single door at the end of the windowless corridor. It was made of steel. A keypad with a blinking red light was set in the jamb.
“Last chance to turn back,” Jesse said, staring at the door with a heavy feeling whirling in his insides.
“You want the rest of your cash or what?” Trixy’s words were sharp but her expression intent.
“Okay. Here goes.” Jesse rolled his shoulders, got out his tools and began unscrewing the keypad from the wall. He hooked out the internal wiring and clamped on the leads from his homemade Crack Box. He held his breath and pushed the button.
There was a flash and a whirr. The light on the keypad turned green, and the door slid open. Inside, they found a steep staircase, its bottom lost in shadow. Trixy switched on her headlamp. Jesse did the same just as the door slid shut behind them with an ominous click.
“We can get out again, right?” Trixy whispered.
“In theory,” Jesse said, tucking his Crack Box back into his bag. “Can we get this over with already?”
Trixy preceded him down the stairs. Her boots rang unnervingly loud in the narrow, echoing space. It got colder the farther they went, and soon their breath was misting in the light from their headlamps. Finally, they came against a barred gate. Beyond it there was nothing but an empty room with the thin outline of another door. Another keypad, more complex, was set in the wall to its side. Red lights the size of pennies dotted the corners of the room.
“Motion detectors,” Jesse said in response to Trixy’s questioning look. “I’ve disabled them. We’ve got about twelve minutes.”
“Hurry up then.”
Jesse swallowed his retort and dropped to his knees to pick the manual key-lock of the gate. It was a relatively simple mechanism compared to some he’d picked in his time, but that door on the other side was making his hands sweat inside his gloves, and he struggled to grip.
Finally, there was a click, and the gate swung open. They stepped inside. Jesse braced himself for alarms and flashing lights, but there was nothing. He followed Trixy to the door. There was no handle, no lock, just the keypad and a series of small, yellow lights in the frame.
“What are these?” Trixy whispered.
“I don’t know. They weren’t on the schematics.”
Trixy frowned. “Well, can you open it?”
Jesse bit his lip. “Trix, look how tight this all is. Surely this is enough proof that he’s secure.”
“We don’t have anything until we have footage of him doing his thing,” Trixy said, jabbing her finger at the door. “Can you open it or not?”
“The Crack Box’ll get past the keypad,” Jesse answered. “But, Trix—”
“Fine, if you’ve not got the balls,” she said, snatching the box from his hand. “Tell me what to do.”
Jesse made a frustrated noise. “You gotta get the clamp leads into the activation wires, behind the panel. But—”
“Gimme the screwdriver,” she said, holding out her hand.
Jesse hesitated, glanced at the yellow lights, then handed it over. Trixy stabbed the screwdriver in behind the keypad and wrenched it off the wall. Light flooded the small chamber. An alarm blared. Jesse covered his ears with a curse. Trixy dropped the Crack Box to do the same, swearing even more inventively as a grid of bars slammed down around them.
* * * *
“Quite a gadget, this,” the detective sergeant said, laying Jesse’s Crack Box on the table between them. She surveyed Jesse closely from behind her thick-lensed glasses, her bloodless lips pressed into a thin line. “Want to tell me a bit more about it?”
“Not without my solicitor, Mariama, no.”
“That’s DS Paul to you, young man,” she replied, though she sounded more weary than angry.
“Sling him into a cell, boss. He won’t talk. He never does. And DI Walker’s waiting.”
The detective sergeant glanced at her constable, a stony-faced young man sat at her side who looked both bored and disdainful.
Jesse was tired. He was hungry. The interrogation room smelled of damp, and the radiator gurgling in the corner was doing little to cut through the chill. He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been there, but it must have been several hours.
