Chapter 2 #3
“Five minutes past nine. It took an additional five minutes for the message to be passed on to us. We, of course, called the IIT immediately.”
And they would have responded in the same manner. “What did the message actually say?”
“That the Tylwyth Teg would be robbed at ten past nine and they will be using Aamon’s Pectoral to get in and out.”
“They were all but daring you to stop them,” Mathi said.
“That is also our impression,” the shifter replied. “There are some who get a rush from cutting their escape time down to the wire.”
I frowned. “It would have taken the IIT only a few minutes to get there, so our thief was likely still in the vault at that point.”
“Indeed,” Mathi commented. “But aside from all the usual bank security measures, there are two separate time locks securing that vault, and a backup power system that prevents the possibility of someone cutting the power and using the keycode to get in. All of which means the manager would not have had access until nine thirty, opening time.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he knew that. He merely smiled.
“Even so, that still means he only had at most twenty minutes inside that vault, and I wouldn’t have thought that enough time to pry open all the security boxes, let alone rummage through all the assets contained within them.” I paused. “Unless, of course, he was after cash.”
“They do not keep cash in that particular vault,” Mathi said. “But I agree that he—or she—was likely after something specific, and was well aware of its location.”
“Whether that something was in the form of contracts or business papers, bond certificates, or family heirlooms,” the convener said, “we won’t know until all the owners have been contacted and an assessment done.”
I nodded. “Is there anything else we need to know?”
“No, but just remember, a good portion of Deva’s elite had property stored in the bank’s safe deposit boxes, so there is a major push to find the culprit and the items he stole.”
My gaze found Bodhrán’s again. “I take it the Myrkálfar are already monitoring the black market?”
Amusement flickered through his expression. “Constantly, but we’ve placed a notification alert for any unusual activity and are monitoring all services brokers.”
A fact that would no doubt thrill them, given many had a booming business brokering off-the-books and often illegal services.
“We have asked for a summary list of stolen items,” the convener said. “But I suspect many will not be forthcoming about all that their boxes contained.”
Undoubtedly those who were storing illegal goods or blackmailing information. Both branches of elves did enjoy the odd bit of extortion.
“You’ll pass that on—along with anything else we might need to know—when you get it?”
“Indeed, though to repeat what was said earlier, I dare say you two will be able to gain that sort of information far quicker than any of us.”
I pushed to my feet. “You have met Sgott Bruhn, have you not?”
The convener frowned. “Yes, of—”
“Then you’ll be well aware he is a stickler for rules and not one to discuss ongoing investigations with anyone outside the investigative team, even if that person is considered family.”
Ruadhán was a different matter entirely, at least when it came to his son, but I refrained from adding that. I doubted anyone beyond Sgott knew just how complete Mathi’s access was. I picked up my tea, gave them a polite nod, and left. A chair scraped as Mathi rose and followed me out.
“Thoughts?” I asked, as we clattered down the austere concrete stairs to the ground floor foyer.
“I have several.”
“Color me unsurprised,” I replied, amused. “There’s generally a whole lot happening under that inscrutable facade you present to the world.”
The security guard opened the front door as we approached, and Mathi touched my back lightly, guiding me through and then around to the left.
His car—a silver Mercedes—was parked just in front of a delivery van.
Henrick was studiously ignoring the van driver’s verbal rampage about illegal parking as he stood beside the vehicle’s rear door and waited for us to arrive.
I climbed in and scooted across to the driver’s side, but Mathi paused, got out his wallet, and handed the van driver a couple of notes. I had no idea how much, but the abuse instantly stopped.
“Devious,” I said dryly as he climbed in.
“My middle name,” he replied. “Are you up to heading over to the bank? Or do you need to go home and hide in a dark room for a few hours?”
“I need the latter, but we’d best do the former if we want any chance of finding whatever magical residue remains.”
“I’ll ring my father and inform him we’re on the way and why. Henrick, could you please drive over to the Tylwyth Teg Bank.”
“Immediately, sir,” he replied implacably, then raised the noise barrier between us and him.
Mathi took out his phone and made his call.
I placed my cup in the center console, then leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
I didn’t sleep, as such, but I certainly lost any real awareness of my surrounds for the short time it took us to get over to the bank, which was located on the corner of Eastgate and St Werburgh Street, and only a few buildings down from the tavern I called home.
The two streets were taped off either side of the building, and there were double yellow lines for a good distance in both directions, so Henrick stopped in a delivery bay, then opened my door and offered me a hand.
I accepted the assistance gratefully, then stepped away from the car and drew in a deeper breath of air.
There was a storm coming, and its electricity was sharp and vibrant, dancing enticingly across my skin.
But that storm didn’t just come in the form of weather threat.
It was deeper, more dangerous, and far more encompassing than that.
It was coming for me, for my life, and it was going to turn everything I knew upside down.
Prescience? Or simply the fear of knowing what now lay ahead of me and how little room to maneuver I truly had.
But maneuver I would. I didn’t want to die.
And if there really is no other choice? an inner voice whispered.
I shivered and rubbed my arms. Mathi immediately took off his coat and draped it around my shoulders. “Do you need more tea? I can ask Henrick—”
“I’m fine, Mathi, but thanks.”
“Knowing you as well as I do, I recognize the lie, but I will ignore it for the moment. Shall we continue?”
“The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can both get home.”
“And, more importantly, the sooner we can start the evening activities.”
He kept close as we walked down to the bank, obviously meaning to catch me should the migraine overwhelm me.
I didn’t often get them, but he’d seen the consequences often enough in the ten years we were a couple.
It was tempting to tell him that wasn’t going to happen today, but in all honesty, between the light hurting my eyes and the growing wash of weariness, it was better to be safe than sorry.
“I intend to do nothing more than climb into my bed and sleep for ten hours, but I take it you have a hot date?”
“Indeed. Several new prospects have arisen, and I’m seeing one of them tonight.”
I laughed softly. “I do love the oh-so-romantic way you refer to a woman who might one day become your wife.”
“Marriage is a business rather than romantic transaction for us, as you well know.”
“I know, I just—” I stopped and shrugged. “As much as I wish you a beneficial betrothal contract, Mathi, I also want you to be happy. I’d hate for you to discover you can’t stand the woman when it’s all too damn late.”
“That won’t happen, because I have a devious plan.”
I glanced at him, my eyebrows raised. “And am I allowed to know this devious plan?”
“Indeed, you are a vital part of it.” His smile flashed, warm and bright in the afternoon’s gathering gloom. “But more on that when we have the time.”
I harrumphed. He laughed and guided me around the corner.
Eastgate Street was filled with all manner of law enforcement, with the regular police doing the more menial tasks such as crowd control while the IIT—whose purview was to deal with all police events involving nonhumans—handled the actual investigations.
I couldn’t see any familiar faces amongst the officers here, but that made sense given day division would have the operational lead on this, not the night.
The copper manning the tape gave Mathi an acknowledging nod—meaning he’d been advised of our arrival—and lifted the tape for us.
The bank was built in a Neoclassical style, which meant not only was it grand in scale, but possessed rather dramatic-looking Corinthian columns, gloriously arched windows at street level, and smaller sashed windows in the upper two floors.
The main entrance was situated in St Werburgh Street and was, unfortunately, of a modern design, totally out of keeping with the rest of the building, but likely far more secure than the original wooden doors.
The officer guarding the entrance requested our IDs and then opened the door and motioned us around to the right.
The main banking area was again modern in design, with very little of the original architecture visible.
Hopefully, those features had simply been boarded over rather than destroyed, especially given the upper two floors apparently retained the features missing here, including a hall that had lovely old oak paneling and Ionic columns.