Chapter 7: That night: The break-in

CHAPTER 7

EILIDH

THAT NIGHT – THE brEAK-IN

A s I hid in the shadows of the building across the street from Mathieson's office, I watched the goings on in the brightly lit foyer. The staff had left for the night and there was only one security guard left on duty. Perfect!

Once the guard left the front desk for his break, I crept around to the side entrance of the building, where I expected he would come out for a smoke. Just as he'd informed me he would when I spoke with him earlier this evening in the same spot after asking him for a light.

My nose scrunched in disgust at the thought. I hated cigarettes and didn't smoke, but had deliberately learned to do so while working undercover. It was an excellent way to strike up a conversation with strangers and get information, and it had worked perfectly yesterday.

Posing as a worker from the building I was now lurking beside, I casually remarked about looking forward to finishing work for the day. The guard told me he was working late into the night. After asking him if he found it boring working alone at night, he said he usually took a nap after his dinner, which helped pass the time.

Chuckling at the memory, I shook my head at how easily the idiot had given up vital information. Some security guard. Because of his penchant to say too much, I now knew he was working alone, would no doubt come out for a smoke on his dinner break, and would likely take a nap afterwards. I also knew where the smoking area was and the entrance he would use to get in and out.

While we'd chatted, I had also noticed that he had wedged a brick into the door, leaving it partially open, and I hoped he would do that again.

Movement caught my eye and my body tensed as I peered intently at the side door.

Yes! There he was. I was right. Stupid rent-a-cop was not the sharpest tool in the box!

Some security guys took their jobs seriously and were good at it. I respected that, but some were wannabe cops who couldn't make the grade and took a security job so they could pretend. Others were simply lazy time wasters who didn't really care. This guy fell into the latter category. Frowning at his approaching form, I muttered "useless" to myself before feeling guilty.

It was probably wrong of me to judge under the circumstances. Considering he was only watching over offices and not the crown jewels. Besides, for the measly amount of money he was probably getting paid, his lack of care was understandable, in a way. It also made things so much easier for me, so I guessed I should be glad of his lack of work ethic.

As soon as he exited the building and headed to the smoking shelter, I crossed the road and crept up behind him. When he had his back to me and his head down as he lit his cigarette, I slipped into the building, ran to the stairwell, and headed up the stairs to Aiden Mathieson's office.

Thank goodness I ran a lot because by the time I reached the fifth floor my heart was racing, and I my breathing was laboured. Who knew what state I'd be in if I wasn't fairly fit?

Before I left the stairway, I stopped to drag some much needed air into my burning lungs.

When my breathing had finally returned to normal, I entered the corridor and hurried towards Mathieson's office. Keeping my head down and my hood pulled forward to cover my face, I did my best to avoid the cameras in the hallway.

As I reached the office door, I took out the pass I stole from Mathieson's secretary as she left the building earlier. I scanned it, and it let me into the main office.

Yey! So far, so good. I worried that she might have already noticed it missing and notified security. Obviously not.

Using my flashlight to light my way, I hurried straight to Mathieson's own office and slipped inside. His computer was on, and as I pressed the keys, I saw it was just shutting down.

That seemed odd. I frowned. Why would it still be on?

Shaking my head, I ignored the question. I didn't have time to worry about it.

The top two drawers of his desk contained the usual sort of office junk. However, the bottom drawer was locked.

Taking out my special tools, I had the lock picked in no time. As I slid the drawer open, I smiled, happy that the skills I learned years ago were finally being put to good use.

Warmth spread through me, and a small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I thought about how I'd learned those skills.

My mum's cousin Joe had been a thief but, after a short stint in prison, he went straight. Luckily, he found a job with a security firm consulting on security measures. They found the knowledge he gained during his criminal activities exceptionally helpful, and although Joe always carried his set of tools with him, he never used them for illegal purposes again. He just liked always having them nearby, like a security blanket, he once told me.

After Mum passed from cancer when I was a child, I found her jewellery box. It was one with a little lock, but there was no key. Unable to open it and not wanting to break it, I'd been distraught. Thankfully, Joe was there to save the day. He took out his special tools and showed me how to break into the box without causing any damage. I was only eight years old, so I thought it was great fun.

For years after that, whenever Joe was babysitting me or whenever I was upset and needed to be distracted, he would find me other locked things and let me play with his tools and break into them. He kept different things in his garage, including old safes, and spent hours trying to get into them. As I grew older, he let me help.

That had been a lot of fun.

Joe would also tell me stories about jobs he had done in his youth before he had been caught. I learned a lot from him about breaking into different places and the various security measures that exist in today's world, and I still had the small set of "Tools of the trade" he had given me for my thirteenth birthday.

He was long gone now, and I missed him as much as I did my parents. A wave of sadness hit me, and I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to get back to the task at hand.

So, because of Joe, I had skills. Maybe not the skills you would expect a police officer to have, but they came in handy whenever I had a robbery to investigate. They would certainly come in handy in helping me gain the evidence I needed to avenge my dad's murder.

Unfortunately, the drawer did not hold any hidden secrets. In fact, it was empty. In frustration, I reached inside and carefully examined the edges, but there was nothing I missed.

Quickly closing it up, I crept around, checking all the usual places people hide things, but again found nothing.

Pushing down feelings of disappointment, I took a step back and scanned the room. There had to be something. I was sure a man like Mathieson had lots of secrets, so where was he hiding them?

The computer was an obvious answer for some of them, but a lawyer like Mathieson would have hard copies of things as back up. I needed to find them. I glanced again at the computer and wished Joe had also taught me hacking skills. Unfortunately, that sort of thing was before his time and since I wasn't technically gifted, finding anything on the thing was a big fat no-no for me.

Narrowing my eyes, I zoned in on the picture on the wall behind his desk and smirked. Of course!

Moving it aside revealed the safe I'd suspected was there.

Really? Very cliched.

Chuckling, I shook my head. It seemed Aiden Mathieson was not too technical either. And not in the least original. However, that made it so much easier for me.

The safe was an old-fashioned dial type, too, which had obviously been there for some time.

Seriously, who still used this old shit?

"Hey, the old ones are the best!" I could practically hear Joe chiding me, and I smothered a chuckle behind my hand.

Checking my watch, I noticed there wasn't a lot of time left before the guard would be back.

Shit, I needed to hurry.

My skills were rusty, but excitement fizzled through me like a live wire at the thought of playing with my tools again.

Pulling my kit open, I selected the instruments which would do the job, put my ear to the door and in less than a minute, it was open. A sense of satisfaction flowed through me, and I grinned from ear to ear. That was fun! It was almost a pity it was over so soon.

Snapping a photo of the contents, I quickly riffled through them, taking pictures of everything before replacing the items back exactly where they had been. There was an enormous pile of cash and several passports with Mathieson's picture, but different names. It looked like this was where the shady lawyer kept his escape cache.

Stuffed at the back of the safe was a plastic bag with a gun inside. I froze and gulped, feeling sick as I wondered if it was the gun that killed my dad.

Closing my eyes briefly, I sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to even look at a weapon that might have ended my dad's life.

Come on, Eilidh, move, you haven't got time to freak out now. It might not even have anything to do with Dad!

Forcing myself to get moving, but unable to handle the bag with the gun, just in case, I used one of my tools to move it aside to ensure nothing else was hidden away. There wasn't, but that there was such a weapon in Mathieson's safe proved to me that the man was into some nasty shit.

This was the UK; we didn't carry guns here, and if it was evidence of a crime, it should be with the police and not a defence lawyer. There was no reason a lawyer would have a gun in a plastic bag in his safe unless he was keeping it as leverage for some reason.

Aidan Mathieson was either using it to blackmail someone, or to ensure his own safety. Whatever the reason, seeing it there made me nervous as fuck, and thinking it could be connected to my dad made me sick to my stomach.

It was too much. I needed to leave. I'd done enough snooping for one night. Besides, time was running out.

After shutting the safe and replacing the picture, I scanned the office to make sure nothing looked disturbed. Satisfied, I pulled up the hood of my jacket, ensuring it obscured my face as I slipped out of the office, closed the door, and with my head down, hurried back along the hall.

Intent on leaving as quickly as possible, I opened the door to the stairwell to head back downstairs. I had just started down the steps when my arm was grabbed and I was pushed up against the wall.

The breath whooshed out of me as a large body pressed tightly against me, and a hand covered my mouth.

The initial shock of being grabbed quickly wore off.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled behind his hand as I struggled frantically against a steel-like grip.

The guy was taller than me and built like a tank, and the way I was pressed tightly against the length of him left no room for me to manoeuvre. My pitiful attempts to break free of his hold were getting me nowhere. It was time to change tactics.

Just as I was about to go limp in his arms, so he was forced to change his grip on me, his body stiffened. He leaned in and hissed, "Quiet."

At that moment, I heard a door open below accompanied by whistling and the sound of footsteps. The guard was coming up the stairs. Shit!

Frozen in place, we held our breath and waited, listening to the steps getting closer.

Thankfully, the guard opened the door to the floor two floors below and headed inside. Geez, that was close. If I had barrelled down the stairs as planned, I would have run straight into him and been discovered.

That's when I realised that whoever had me pressed against the wall had just saved me from being caught. But who was he, and why?