Chapter 6
Jack read the note Saskia had left taped to the fridge door: Left for the garage. See you later.
He tapped the note, then tugged if off and let it flutter into the trash bin. Clive had said he’d see him around six, and… It was only three. So. Since his watcher was also absent, he had a few hours to himself.
He tugged out the burner phone and reread the text stating the demand for a one million pound ransom. He wasn’t going to waste this time.
* * * *
At sight of Jack leaving her building across the street and strolling down the sidewalk, Saskia slid off the coffee shop bar stool and tossed her paper cup in the trash bin. Pulling down the blue knit skull cap over her short blond hair, she walked outside.
The homeless guy who was begging from his beat-up piece of cardboard square stepped in front of her. “Dude, you got some change?”
She dug into her pocket and slapped a couple two-euro coins into his hand.
“Thanks, man!”
Walking onward, she smirked. Satisfied her disguise made her appear a thin man, perhaps a teenaged boy in holey jeans and a thick black down jacket. A knit cap boasting the Finnish hockey team—the Lions—fit snuggly over short blond hair that dusted her ears. She kept pace with Jack as he walked with purpose. He knew where he was going. And she had some idea too. There was a reason she had chosen the apartment in this area of the city. Not only was it reasonably close to the garage, it was in the vicinity of another location that put up all her red flags.
Actually the apartment had been pre-chosen for her before she’d arrived in Helsinki four days before Jack had gotten here. She did what she was told.
If he turned at the next street…
And… He turned right. Good call on the neighborhood selection. Sometimes her employer seemed to have an almost prescient knowing of things.
Crossing the street before a bus that had stopped to let off passengers onto the salted sidewalk, she walked with a swing to her step, how one might if they were listening to music through earbuds and were generally happy with their life.
She was happy with her life. When she was working a job, she was most happy. And this kind of work? It was as if she’d been born to it. Perhaps she had been. She’d learned safe cracking from her brother—may he rest in peace—and witnessing her grandmother’s changing styles, looks, and costumes had set her on a lifelong love for assimilating herself into the world in the manner in which she wished to be accepted.
Respected and trustworthy? She could put on a suit, some sideburns, and, with some heavy-duty makeup contouring, she could stand before a board meeting while presenting figures for the latest corporate takeover.
Sexy and smart? The librarian look with a tight pencil skirt, thick glasses, and hair coiled in victory rolls was one of her favorite disguises. It also came in handy when role-playing for sex.
Sweet, innocent and not altogetherthere? She could fashion herself a teenager with little makeup and non-figure-conforming clothing. The times she’d needed to be a kid to wheedle her way into a tense situation and feel out the players were numerous.
Jack turned down an alley, so she quickened her steps and peered around the corner of the brick building where he’d turned. He shifted at the hip to look over his shoulder so she slipped out of view. Waiting a few seconds, she looked again. Almost missing him, his back leg disappeared as he walked in through a doorway.
Hastening her steps, she avoided the slushy channels from cars that had pummeled the snow and ice to soup, and, fully aware of the camera above the door she neared, stepped lightly across the alley to sidle up alongside the door. There wasn’t a sign or identifier on the door. And no windows. The camera positioned a foot above the metal door did not sweep, nor would it mark her with her back against the wall. Whoever was inside would know who was coming and allow admittance.
She didn’t need to show herself or go inside. If her intel was correct, this was the place of business for a doctor who specialized in adjustment surgeries. Not plastic surgery that could change a person’s face and characteristics. Rather, he removed tattoos, or added them, took out teeth and replaced them with a GPS chip and a crown. He even removed tracking devices that could have been placed anywhere on the body. And he charged a pretty penny.
Backing away from the door, Saskia shoved her hands in her coat pockets and kicked at the snow wedged up along the slushy channels as she walked toward the main street. Stationing herself at the building corner, she had only to wait another ten minutes before Jack swung out and walked toward her. He gave no clue that a procedure had been performed, but it had been mere minutes. Nothing had happened, except perhaps a conversation and scheduling an appointment.
Back pressed to the brick building Saskia waited, nodding her head, as if in time to music. Jack turned the corner, remarking her with the side eye, but kept on walking. Just another kid, he must have thought.
When he’d walked a good block away, she swung around the side of the building, and using the relative privacy of the shadowed alleyway, she slid off her black coat and turned it inside out to reveal the white reversible lining. Put it back on. Then she tugged off her cap and wig, and tucked away the hairpiece in the zippered pocket. She shook out her naturally dark hair. After pulling a tiny packet with an alcohol face wipe from another pocket, she then wiped away the makeup from her cheeks that had given her a sunken look.
Turning about the corner, she inspected her work in the window of a pastry shop advertising fresh scones. One last swipe to a streak of contouring along her jawbone and she was back to plain old Saskia. Just another face in the crowd. It was her most difficult disguise, but she never stayed in it too long.
Jack Angelo had made the move she had hoped he would not make. Not that she had a stake in what he did or did not do. But since meeting him, and deciding he was an all right kind of guy? She had to admit, at the very least, she liked him. Didn’t want to see him get in any trouble. Because some troubles were devastating, and no man could rise up from them.
And as far as she knew, he would be breaking a promise if he went through with an appointment with the man he’d just visited. She liked her men rough and rowdy, but also, true and possessed of integrity.
Her big Irish bull was making her wonder about him now.
* * * *
Jack arrived at the garage and noted how his shoes crunched over the snowpack. Sounded like he was walking over Styrofoam. It snowed in London, his home base, and he’d been to Siberia and even Minnesota in the States, but those had been brief visits. Who on God’s green earth chose to live year-round in a place like this? Not simply for a visit, but permanently. It was colder than a witch’s tit. And that was mighty cold.
Entering the digital code for the garage that Saskia had given him, the metal door popped open and he swept in, rubbing his hands together and mentally marking on his list the need for thermal gloves. Clive’s crop of silver hair was nowhere in sight, but there was a light on in the office. Saskia and Niles stood across the garage, looking over the plans drawn on the floor.
“Jack!” Niles greeted him with a thumbs-up. The man did like his turtlenecks, and today’s choice of black blended with his skin tone. He wore earbuds decorated with gold skulls, but only one was in an ear, the other swung across his chest.
“You have a relaxing afternoon?” Saskia asked as Jack approached. “Clive has been here for hours.”
“He said not to meet him here until six.” Jack checked his watch. “It’s exactly five fifty-nine. I’m early.”
“So you are.”
She slid her gaze up and down his body in a manner that said so many things. I’ve seen you naked in the shower was the first thing. I’ve scammed you not once, not twice, but three times was the second thing. And the third resulted in that judgy look females always gave a man when they had deemed him not up to snuff.
He didn’t need the judgment. And he really didn’t need the mind games.
“Niles has plotted our steps from entry through the wall in the accounting office that sits next to the bank to the safe,” Saskia explained while pointing it out on the floor drawing. “It’s an easy walk. Even the drill through the wall should prove quick with Clive’s new toy.”
“If you consider two hours quick,” Niles chimed in. “That’s how long it should take to drill through the office’s brick wall and then the bank’s reinforced concrete wall, if I’ve guesstimated the schematics correctly.”
“No building plans?” Jack asked.
“I was able to access the floor plans for the entire block through city records,” Niles explained. “But the bank plan is vague. To be expected. It meets the standard wall thickness using concrete and brick. And the bank is over a hundred years old, so I expect that thickness. The building materials weren’t as strong back then, but they reinforced them with concrete and used a lot of rebar.”
“No steel barriers?”
“Not that the floor plans show.”
“Then it’ll be quicker than two hours with that drill,” Jack said. “More like an hour.”
“You think?” Niles scratched his head. “I admit this is my first time with this sort of drill.”
“I’ve used something similar before,” Jack said. “It cuts through concrete like butter. Just need to have a water source to keep it lubricated.”
“There’s a bathroom in the accounting office. We’ll run a hose from there to the wall.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “We should be able to move on this sooner rather than later.”
“Are you in a rush, Jack?” Clive pushed the industrial drill on a low cart across the concrete carport and planted it next to where Niles was working on his laptop. “The party’s only just begun. Don’t you want to stick around and get to know us?”
Jack quirked a brow. Since when did the man suddenly want to chat over tea? He was here for a job. Get in, get out. Get paid. Bye bye.
And in the process he intended to learn as much as he could about the operation and exactly what the take-away was.
“Just kidding.” Clive patted the drill. “I say we go in this Saturday. Banks are only open Monday through Fridays here in Finland. It’ll allow that one extra day for discovery and for us to get the hell out of this icy Dodge.”
“Works for me.” Saskia toed the drill. The diameter of it was a foot across, and the teeth were diamond-tipped. “We going to test this monster out?”
“Jack, that’s your job,” Clive said. “You and Niles form the setup for testing and give it a go. I want to make sure the five thousand, and the broken fingers, were worth it. Sass.” Clive nodded toward the office. “Let’s talk.”
Jack and Niles watched as Saskia followed Clive to the office and they closed the door behind them.
Niles exchanged a raised brow with Jack.
“An office romance?” Jack asked teasingly. But he didn’t feel the humor like he should have. Clive didn’t seem Saskia’s sort. And besides… Well, he probably shouldn’t go there.
Niles chuckled. “Unlikely. You do know that if Clive were to hit on any in the crew it would probably be you, mate?”
“What?” Jack’s jaw dropped open as he realized what the man was implicating. “Really?”
Niles nodded. “I’m a married man. And Sass is, well, Sass. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, though. The man’s all business. Still. You do have that rugged bad boy thing going for you.” Niles winked. “You ready to drill something?”
The man’s choice of words made Jack wince.
* * * *
The office was chillier than the garage, which surprised Saskia. Then again, the main heating ducts blasted air into the vast space, and she didn’t notice any vents in here. This tiny room could use a portable heater.
She zipped up her down coat. Her breath fogged before her in intermittent clouds as she waited for Clive to speak. He sat on a creaky chair behind a stack of pallet crates. When they’d moved in, the office had been empty save the chair, and he’d brought in some pallets on which to lay out his papers and whatever else he deemed necessary.
“Is our Gentleman Jack on the up and up?” he finally asked.
Saskia shrugged. “Far as I can determine.”
“As far as you can determine? He’s living with you. It’s your job to figure him out, Sass. Make sure the new guy doesn’t work us over.”
“He doesn’t have much to say.”
“No, he doesn’t. But he’s got a smart right fist. I’m glad I had him along for the pickup today. He truly is the gentleman you told me about.”
“Gentleman Jack always apologizes before he puts your teeth into the back of your skull. That’s his reputation. But he’s also capable of making a mean lasagna.” She blew out a whistle and shook her head in appreciation.
“He’s a cook?”
“Best meal I’ve had in over a week.”
“You soft on him, Sass?”
“No.” Yes. “Just isn’t often a woman gets a meal cooked for her. And by a man. I’m not going to refuse.”
“I wouldn’t either. You’ve served me well in bringing him into the crew, Sass.”
“No problem.” Her shoulders relaxed an inch.
“Now, I need you to get something for me before we move on Saturday. It’s for a side project of mine that’s happened to overlap with this job.”
“Anything.”
“I know you’re an expert in poisons.”
“I am.” All her alarm bells suddenly started to clang. Of course, Clive would have some intel on her. But only that which had been carefully selected for others to dig up. But still, this subject put up her hackles. Saskia maintained her calm façade. “What’s up?”
“Just need a bit of Folidol.”
“Folidol?” Scanning her knowledge of poisons, she hit on the old compound that had once been used in the 1970s. “You mean parathion?”
“Yes, I think so. Was once used as an insecticide?”
“Right. When pure, it’s a white crystalline solid.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s been banned from use since mid-last century. Very poisonous to humans. It kills upon ingestion. You got a reason to take out a hit on someone, Clive?”
“Like I said, it’s for a side project. No questions, eh?”
“That’s cool.” But not really.
“Is it something you can make?”
“It would be easier, and quicker, to buy some on the black market. Germany is a good shopping spot for such a thing. Might even be able to dredge some up here in the city.”
“Can you do that for me?”
He hadn’t explained why he needed it. And her light suggestion that he wanted to take someone out had been brushed aside. She wasn’t averse to murder—for all the right reasons—and such a poison wouldn’t be requested for any other reason than that. “I…will have to look into the availability.”
“You’ve got two days. Don’t let me down, Sass.”
And she took that as a dismissal.
With a curt nod, Saskia left the room. Outside the closed office door, she bowed her head and breathed in the warm air. It didn’t do much to stifle the new shiver that had clutched about her spine. That wasn’t from the temperature.
Getting the poison would not be a problem. The problem was this new wrench. What the hell would a man who held up banks possibly want with an insecticide known to kill, and in a horrible and slowly painful manner?