She turned the device on and the signal light came on, indicating good battery. No alarm sounded although the clip was not in place. She turned it off and returned it to the place she had found it on the wet bar shelf.
Cassie went back to the suite's entrance hallway and sat down on the floor. From her backpack she pulled the pair of knee pads, which she strapped on over her black jeans. She then knelt in front of the door and went to work. She picked the drill up off the tool display, put in a Phillips bit and began removing the screws from the cover plate of the interior door handle and deadbolt. The homemade drill cowling dampened its sound considerably. Cassie figured someone would have to actually be listening on the other side of the door to notice the noise.
When she had the cover plate off she put a penlight in her mouth and pointed it into the interior of the lock apparatus while she used a screwdriver to pop the lock washer off the bolt axle. She then gripped the bolt switch with a pair of rubber-tipped pliers and pulled it out of the apparatus, using both hands. She leaned in and looked closely at the interior mechanism.
Cassie took the light out of her mouth and exhaled in a low whistle of relief. Leo had called it correctly. The lock mechanism relied on a half gear to drive the bolt home. Despite knowing this was a problem six years ago, the managers and security providers of the hotel had chosen to avoid the expense of changing every deadbolt in the 3,000 -room hotel. The decision made back then would allow Cassie to stay in the room and complete the installation. If a full gear had been installed in the lock's mechanism, she would have had to remove it and take it someplace - maybe the bathtub in the room across the hall - and cut it with the acetylene torch. It was only at that moment of relief that she realized how lucky she was not to have to use the torch; she had forgotten about it and left it in the trunk of the Boxster back at the Aces and Eights.
Cassie put the penlight back in her mouth. She pushed the screwdriver into the barrel slot and used it to turn the half gear forward, to the right, a quarter turn. She then checked her work with the flashlight and slid the bolt axle back into place. She turned the lock and looked into the doorjamb. The bolt extended outward but came just shy of the receiver plate on the other side of the jamb. By turning the half gear forward she had reduced the number of gear teeth driving the bolt home by half. Therefore it crossed the half-inch space of the doorjamb but did not lock the door. The only way for Hernandez to realize this would be to get down on his knees and look into the doorjamb crack. That was unlikely.
Cassie got up and looked through the peephole to make sure the hall was empty. She then opened the door. The bolt barely scraped the jamb but still made a slight noise. She looked out into the hallway to make sure it was empty and then quickly went back to her tools. She grabbed the steel file and quickly ran it back and forth along the scrape line the bolt had made in the jamb plate. She then dropped the file, checked the hall again and once more closed and reopened the door. There was no scraping sound this time.
After closing the door she went to work on the flip-over lock. She used the drill to remove the four screws that attached the flip-over arm to the doorjamb. Once the arm was removed she changed bits and ran the drill into each of the screw holes to widen them. She dug the tub of earthquake wax out of her bag and used a dab of it on the back of the lock's anchor plate to glue it back into place. She then used more of the quick-drying wax to hold the screws back in place in the loosened screw holes.
Cassie sat back on her heels and looked at the door. There was no outward sign that she had tampered with the locks. Yet with the card key she had in her back pocket she would be able to enter the room despite Hernandez's use of the additional locks and his portable alarm.
The first step toward preparing the suite was completed. Cassie checked her watch and saw that it was almost nine-thirty. She rolled her tool satchel up and carried it along with her black bags into the bedroom. She placed everything down in the middle of the floor and set to work. She removed the Conduct-O tape and the ALI camera, snapping the latter into place inside one of the smoke detector cowling shells. She then connected a battery to it, closed it and removed the adhesive backing. She pulled the chair out from the desk and used it to step up and reach the wall over the entry to the closet and bathroom alcove. She pressed the smoke detector camera onto the wall, about a foot below the ceiling line.
The roll of Conduct-O was as small as a roll of household tape. It was clear, with two thin copper wires embedded in the adhesive and running the length of the tape. She wrapped one end of the tape on the connector posts and then closed the detector cover. She ran the tape down the wall to the lower alcove ceiling and then ran the tape along the ceiling to the wall over the closet. She then ran it down over the door frame and into the closet, where she ran it straight down to the floor alongside the door and then along the baseboard to a position behind the safe.
Cassie removed the transmitter from one of the bags and put it in place behind the safe, where it was unlikely Hernandez would have reason to look. She cut the Conduct-O tape and wrapped it around one of the transmitter's receiving terminals. Cassie turned on the transmitter and went back out to her equipment. She pulled out the receiver/recorder and opened it on the floor. She turned it on and studied the strip of masking tape Paltz had placed below a line of frequency buttons. She pushed the button marked ALI ( 1 ) and a view of the room, herself sitting on the floor, appeared on the monitor screen. The image was clear and took in almost the entire room. The important thing was the bed. She had a full view of the bed. She got up and went to the door and turned off the lights, dropping the room into darkness except for the bleed of exterior light - the spotlights thrown on the Cleopatra's towers at night - from around the curtains.
She came back and looked closely at the screen. The outline of the bed was barely visible in the green-tinged image. It wasn't as good as Paltz had claimed it would be but she knew it would have to do. She got up again and went to the curtains, pulling them open just an inch or so and letting a sliver of light into the center of the room.
The added light was enough. The details of the room took on a more defined look on the screen. Cassie now had to hope that Hernandez wouldn't notice the slight opening in the curtains and close them before going to bed.
Cassie turned the light back on and returned quickly to the closet. She had to first make sure that during the hot prowl she would be able to get into the closet where the safe was without the interior light automatically going on and possibly waking the mark and exposing her. She could not simply loosen the bulb in the ceiling of the closet. Hernandez might notice that and have it replaced or, worse yet, become suspicious. She also needed the light working for the cameras she planned to set inside the closet to record Hernandez opening the safe.
The twin louvered doors to the closet slightly overlapped, with a strip of wood edging on the left door covering the joint between the two doors. This meant she could open the left door without opening the right. But if she attempted to open only the right she would pop the left open a few inches because of the overlapping strip. The problem was that the auto-switch for the light was inside the frame of the left door. A small button dropped out of the top frame when the door was opened just an inch, completing the electric circuit that fed juice to the light.
Cassie went to the desk, opened the drawer and looked for something to write with. She found a pencil with a sharp point and went back to the closet. On the exterior trim of the door frame she drew an up-and-down line at the spot where the auto-switch button was located.
From her tool collection she removed the painter's putty knife. She closed the closet doors and reached up with the flat tool to the spot on the exterior trim marked with pencil. She slid the putty knife in and brought pressure upward against the door frame. With her other hand she opened the left door a few inches and then opened the right all the way, the door swinging free of the overlap trim. She then closed the left side, removed the putty knife and stepped into th
e closet through the right side.
She had entered the closet without turning on the light. But she knew she had no time to celebrate. She opened the left door again and the closet light went on. She leaned over the front of the safe as if to open it with her left hand. She then looked back to her right and put her finger on the wall on a spot where she believed a camera would have the best view of the combination pad. She marked the spot with the pencil and then went back out to the equipment bag, from which she pulled the wall socket cover and one of the board cameras.
She quickly set the camera inside the fake socket plate, attached a battery and Conduct-O tape to the terminals and used the drill to mount it on the spot on the wall with the center screw. She adjusted the plate so that it was level, then ran the tape down the wall to the baseboard and back around the safe to the transmitter.
Back out of the closet she checked the receiver/recorder. She pushed the camera buttons until she had the socket camera on the screen. The location and focus of the camera was perfect. She was looking right at the combination pad and could read the numbers on it. It was perfect. She felt the stirring of excitement inside but it was quickly cut short by the vibration of the pager against her belly.
Cassie caught her breath and froze. She pulled the pager off her belt and looked at the digital display.
CASHING OUT - ON HIS WAY
"Shit!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. She threw the pager into the backpack rather than put it back on her belt.
The page changed everything. She abandoned her plan to put a second camera in the closet - this one overhead - and quickly backed out of the closet area. The page meant Hernandez had cashed out and left the baccarat table, but he still had to go to the front desk and retrieve his briefcase. That gave her time to finish.
From the gym bag she removed the Ziploc bag containing the small pump spray bottle of paint and the aerosol can of deodorizer. She stepped back into the closet alcove and looked up at the ceiling while shaking the paint bottle. She then sprayed the paint up onto the Conduct-O tape. It wasn't a perfect match but it was close. She started spraying the paint in a large back and forth arc, covering the tape but most of the ceiling as well. She then followed the tape down the wall to the frame of the closet door. Inside the closet she sprayed the tape line running from the false electric socket down to the baseboard and left it at that. She then grabbed the deodorizer and sprayed healthy bursts into the closet and alcove, then throughout the rest of the suite as she hurriedly moved through it.
After quickly packing her equipment in the two bags, Cassie grabbed the Polaroids off the bed and went back to the closet. Using the photos as a guide, she moved the clothing and shoes back into the same positions they had been in when she first entered the suite. She was careful not to allow the clothing to rub on the rear wall of the closet where there was wet paint.
As she slid the hangers back into place on the clothing bar, something heavy and hard in the pocket of a large sport coat banged against her. She reached into the pocket and brought out a gun. It was a Smith & Wesson 9 mm pistol with a black finish. She ejected the clip and found it was full. She paused even though she knew time was critical. Should she leave it or take it? Should she unload it? Too much was happening for her to think through the possibilities and come up with the right answer. She remembered something Max had always said about the ripple effect.
Remember the ripple effect. If you change something in a room it changes the universe of the job. It creates ripples.
She knew the answer then. You take the gun, the mark may notice and the job is finished. You unload the gun and the mark may notice and it is finished. No action means no ripples, no change in the universe.
She shoved the gun back into the pocket of the jacket and backed out of the closet, checking her work against the Polaroid one last time. Time was up. In her mind she saw Hernandez having already retrieved his briefcase and riding up in the elevator.
She grabbed the two bags, hoisting the straps over her shoulders, and headed out of the bedroom. As she stepped into the living room she glanced backward and froze.
She had left the desk chair pulled out from the desk.
No ripples, she thought, as she quickly moved back into the room and put the chair back in its place. She glanced around and everything now seemed right - she had no time for a Polaroid check of the bedroom. She went back to the living room and to the suite's front door, picking her hat up off the floor.
She turned the light out and looked through the peephole. She saw an empty hallway. She turned her head and listened. She heard no footsteps or any other sound. She put her hat on, then opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
As Cassie pulled the door closed she heard the chime signaling the arrival of an elevator car in the alcove down the hall. She quickly pulled the card key out of her back pocket and crossed to room 2015 .
She opened the door and stepped in. She had made it.
14
THE hallway was empty but she waited. Cassie stood against the door inside room 2015 and pressed her left eye close to the peephole. Her hat tipped off her head and fell to the floor behind her. She heard voices in the hallway and began to believe she was mistaken, that it was not Hernandez but a couple returning to their room.
But then there he was. His huge form moved into her field of vision and the convex lens of the peephole made Hernandez appear even wider. He bent slightly to insert a card key into the door with one hand, the briefcase held at his side with the other. Trailing just behind him and almost out of view through the peephole was another man. Cassie noted the blue blazer with the Cleopatra insignia on the breast pocket. The security escort. She turned away from the peephole and moved close to the doorjamb so that she could listen.
"You want me to check for you, sir?"
"No, I'm fine. I appreciate it, though."
"Then good night, sir."
"Good night."
Cassie heard the door across the hall opening. She switched back to the peephole. The security man was gone and Hernandez was moving into the open doorway. He suddenly stopped and stepped back into the hall.
"Oh, Martin?"
Cassie felt her heart skip a beat. What did he see, what did I miss? She tried to quickly review her hurried exit from room 2014 but she could not think of anything. She looked down at the two bags at her feet and started running an inventory through her mind. But she had barely begun when Hernandez began to speak and she moved her ear to the doorjamb.
"I almost forgot. This is it for me. I'll be leaving tomorrow. Can you hold on a second? I'd like to give you something for watching out for me these last few days."
Martin's voice returned, very close to Cassie's door.
"That's not necessary, Mr. Hernandez. You can just thank Mr. Grimaldi. He wants all our guests to feel secure and, besides, it's against house policy for me to accept - "
"Who's gonna know? Vincent Grimaldi won't unless you tell him. Hold on a second."
There was the sound of a door closing and Cassie returned to the visual. The security man called Martin stood in the hallway, his hands clasped in front of him. He looked up and down the hall, as if worried somebody - maybe the Vincent Grimaldi who was mentioned - would see him taking a gratuity. He then turned and looked right at the peephole through which Cassie was watching him. She froze. She thought that if she moved away he might see a change in the light behind the glass and then know he was being watched.
The door behind Martin opened and Hernandez appeared.
"You know, if you don't mind, come in here and check this out," Hernandez said. "There are fumes or something in here."
Cassie pressed against the door harder and balled her hands into fists. She watched as Martin entered the room, leaving the door open behind him.
She could only see a door-wide slice of the suite. Hernandez and Martin both walked out of sight to the left and then after a few moments crossed her field of vision in the direction of the bedroom. Cas
sie heard talking and moved to the doorjamb and listened but could not make out what was being said. She moved back to the peephole and in a few moments Martin, followed by Hernandez, appeared again and headed toward the door. Their discussion became clearer as they got closer to Cassie's position.
". . . in the smoking rooms," Martin was saying. "It's pretty much industrial-strength stuff that they use. See, you can't open the windows. No hotel in Vegas has windows that open. Too many jumpers."
"Well, I guess it's been building up. This is my third day. I've smoked a few in here."
He guffawed.
"Yes, sir," Martin said. "But if it is going to bother you I could check with the desk and see about moving you into another suite. I'm sure we'd have something available."
Nooooo, Cassie felt like yelling. But it was Hernandez himself who rescued her.
"No, that's not necessary. I'll just have to light one up and see which one is stronger."
He laughed again and this time Martin joined him.
"Okay, good night, sir. Have a good trip home."