I Fought The Law...

As Veronica left, we dug in and ate our salads. We talked about current events and commiserated with each other about the increase in crime nationwide. We discussed the McMartin preschool trial, where the bizarre allegations of satanic rites performed on children in tunnels under the school were made against the administrator and her son.

Chris was of the opinion that children didn't make good witnesses since they're far more likely to say things the adults want them to say rather than the truth. I generally agreed with her, especially when she used examples from cases of alleged child abuse that she had investigated.

While we ate, we exchanged coy looks with each other. I loved watching Chris's lips when she ate a bite of her salad. She would occasionally shake her head back when her hair fell into her face. I was getting hot and wet as I wondered how her body would feel pressed against mine, our lips locked, and our hands wandering over the others' bodies. Frankly, I didn't remember much about the taste of my salad since I was so focused on Chris and what she was saying.

Before I knew it, our salads were finished, and we sat there, gazing into each other's eyes, conversation forgotten. I briefly thought about leaning in, seeing if Chris did the same, and kissing her. Before it stretched out too long, Veronica came by our table to check on us. The distraction allowed me to ask for the bill. When Veronica presented it, I put two twenties on it and told her to keep the change. Veronica went away with a big smile, and I turned to Chris and asked, "Meet you there at 2:00?"

After determining where we would meet, we exited the restaurant. I returned to the office to let Stephanie know I would be gone the rest of the day. When I told her why, she grinned and asked, "Are you doing it for the goodwill or the good-looking detective?"

I laughed and said, "I'll let you figure that out for yourself."

As I drove up the PCH to the Getty Villa Museum, I reviewed everything I had done when I pulled off the job to ensure I hadn't given myself away. I had to make sure I controlled myself around Chris because I didn't want to try to impress her with my skills and, in the process, give myself away.

When I pulled up to the museum, I was impressed, as I always was, with the architecture based on a Roman Villa. I parked and walked up to the main entrance, across from the amphitheater. When I reached it, I spied Chris standing there with a couple of serious-looking men in suits who I recognized as the head of security and the museum curator.

As I walked up to them with a smile on my face, the head of security got a frown on his face. I couldn't help but rub it in when I said, "Hello, George. I hear you had a spot of trouble recently."

George forced a smile, stuck out a hand, and said, "Hello, Terry. Rubbing it in, I see."

I took his hand and shook it once before letting it go. "Only for you, George, only for you."

Chris said, "I see you already know each other?"

"Yes, Chris," I said. "We competed for the security services contract, and George underbid me."

I turned to Victor Escamilla, the museum curator, and put out my hand as I said, "Hello, Victor. I hope I can be of some help to you."

"Ms. Sanders, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to help us out," Victor said with a genuine smile.

I replied, "No problem, Victor. Finding out how this job was done can only teach us how to prevent something like it from happening in the future. Everyone wins in the end."

"Good," Victor said. "I'll leave you two experts to it. If you need anything, just let me or George know." He turned and hurried inside, probably convinced that everything had gone to hell while he was gone.

Chris said, "Well, he's not one for conversation."

"No, thank God," I said with a grin. I turned to George and asked, "So, how do you think they did it?"

George took Chris and me through the museum and out to the back of the main building. George pointed to the door I had used to enter the museum when I pulled the job and said, "This is how they got in and out. The camera had been tampered with. It looks like they used a paintball gun to cover the lens with black paint to make it look like the camera had failed."

I smiled to myself upon hearing that. I had used that trick myself, so anybody looking at the monitor would see it go black and think either the monitor or the camera failed. Using any other paint color would be a giveaway that someone was covering the camera lens.

George continued, "They got through the door by shorting out the electronic lock." He looked at me before he said, "And before you ask, somehow, the alarm wasn't tripped when the lock shorted out. We're still investigating that, but it looks like they were aware of that flaw in the design."

I gamely kept from "tsking" on hearing that. I had been aware of that flaw in the design of the locks used at the museum. I had always recommended a different brand of electronic locks. Instead, I asked, "Are you using Technik Spol locks?"

George looked surprised and asked, "Why do you ask?"

"They have a known design flaw that can be exploited like what it looks like they did here," I said, trying not to act smug. I noticed that Chris looked at me intently for a moment, but I continued, "That's why I recommend ABUS locks to my clients. They're more expensive but don't have that particular flaw."

George frowned when I said that. I knew he had underbid me by using less expensive and inferior products, Technik Spol among them, in his proposal. I had argued with the museum that you get what you pay for, but they had decided to go with George's services instead of mine.

Chris asked, "Once they got in, how did they avoid the other alarms?"

George grimaced at that question before he opened the door and led us inside. Next to the door was an electronic panel that looked like it had been tampered with. George said, "Once they got in, they had 30 seconds to disarm the alarm. It has a ten-digit code and is changed daily. They must have figured out how to get around the code to disarm the alarm."

Chris and I both peered at the panel for a moment, and I could see the residue of powder from the police looking for fingerprints. I knew the alarm system used, and it was actually a very good system. Still, a known security fault could be exploited if you had the right equipment and training. I couldn't fault George for the system used because it was one of the best, and the flaw had only been found and exploited in the past six months. In fact, I had recommended it to my clients more than once before the fault had been found.

Apparently, George wasn't aware of that flaw. I said, "That's pretty sophisticated. These guys are really good." I turned to Chris and said, "It's important that people using this system be told that someone has found a way around that flaw. I know I will be having several intense conversations with my clients since I've recommended this system myself." I grimaced in sympathy with George.

Chris asked, "Once they got past the building alarm, aren't there additional independent alarms that would need to be disarmed?"

George looked embarrassed and said, "Most of the local alarms are tied into the main system, and all of them were also turned off from this panel. The only alarms not tied into this panel are the individual alarms on the display cases. The thieves disabled the alarms on the displays that they robbed."

While he explained that, he led us toward the Roman exhibit. I looked around and noticed the discreet cameras in several locations. I pointed to one and asked, "Did any of the cameras in here catch anything?" I didn't want to give away that I was interested in his answer because they may have captured me and my separate trip to the Grecian exhibit.

"All but one of the cameras showed nothing," George said. "It looks like they spoofed the cameras, so they didn't see anything. However, they missed one," George pointed to a camera at the far end of the corridor, "that showed four figures entering and then leaving the Roman exhibition room, but not in enough detail to make identification possible."

I was impressed with what I heard. I hadn't known that the crew I hired knew a way to spoof the cameras, which was why I wore the outfit I had. I felt relieved but ensured that Chris or George wouldn't see it. To distract them, I asked, "How did they spoof the cameras?" I was interested in the answer myself, wanting to put that in my bag of tricks if I needed to use it on a future job of my own.

George said, "Apparently when they disarmed the alarms, they set the cameras to play back the last fifteen minutes captured before recording again. I had no idea that could be done with the system we had, but we're definitely going to have to put in safeguards against that in the future."

"Why fifteen minutes?" Chris asked, beating me to that question. I knew the answer but had planned to ask it myself to throw any suspicion off me. I looked at George expectantly as if I was interested in his response, too.

"We monitor our cameras on a fifteen-minute cycle, cycling through each camera one at a time. It takes fifteen minutes to go through all of the cameras," George answered. He added, "I'd appreciate it if that information wasn't broadcast, even though we're going to change that cycle rate."

"Agreed," Chris and I echoed as we finally entered the Roman exhibition room.

I immediately noticed the several empty display cases as we walked around the room. George said, "It's obvious what was taken. When the guards did their hourly walk-through, they immediately noted the missing items and raised the alarm. However," George admitted, "The crooks were long gone by then."

I turned to George and asked, "So, none of your outside cameras picked up anything? Either coming or going?"

"No," George answered, a worried look on his face. "It's almost as if they knew exactly where all the dead spots in the coverage were."

"However," Chris jumped in, "when the police canvassed the area, they found a security camera on the Church of Later Day Saints over on Los Liones Drive pointed in the direction of the museum."

I felt like someone had stepped on my grave when I heard that. I fought to maintain my composure as I turned to look at Chris. I asked, "I assume you found something interesting on the tape?"

"Yes," Chris said seriously. "We saw the shape of a person walking through the brush from the El Ocasa Trail toward the museum about the time of the burglary and then return toward the trail about twenty minutes later. Because of the contrast of the dark shape against the twilight sky, we couldn't get any detail on the person."

"Only one?" I asked. "I thought the internal camera caught four people?"

"That's why we think a fifth person was involved and that they may have piggybacked on the other group's job," Chris said, looking me in the eye.

I met her gaze, trying not to give anything away. "Does she suspect me?" I thought to myself. After a moment of consideration, I had to discard that thought. Why would she give away her hole card to me if she did suspect me? So, I put a puzzled look on my face and asked, "Why do you think this fifth person was piggybacking off the other group?"

George jumped in, drawing my attention to him as he said, "There was an old security camera in the Grecian exhibition room that we had nearly forgotten about. It isn't a CCTV camera. It just takes a wide-angle picture of the room every ten minutes. We haven't gotten around to removing it yet. Because it isn't tied into the rest of the security system, there wasn't any rush to retire it."

I fought to keep my composure as George spoke. I had thought all of the old security cameras had been removed, so when I had cased the exhibit, I had overlooked it, assuming all the cameras I had noted were tied into the new security system. I remembered that old saw about what made an ass out of u and me and mentally scolded myself.

Chris said, "We got lucky, and the camera captured a single person, all in black with a ski mask on, removing a Grecian urn from its display case."

I said, "That is fortuitous. Can we go look at it?" I was curious about what I had missed, and now I knew why the police hadn't released that bit of information. George nodded, and we headed for the Grecian exhibition room. As we walked, I asked, "Why wouldn't the one seen there be from the group in the Roman exhibition room."

George answered, "The one active camera captured all four entering together and leaving together ten minutes later. Also, the timestamp on this picture was while they were all inside."

I nodded and said, "Then there was definitely a fifth person involved. Do you think they were working together?"

Chris and George exchanged a look before Chris said, "We think the lone individual must have known about the crew's job, but the crew didn't necessarily know about the fifth person."

We entered the Grecian exhibition room, and the first thing I noticed was that there were no empty display cases. Not having to feign a look of surprise, I asked, "What was taken?"

George sheepishly answered as he pointed to the display case I had taken the Grecian urn out of, "Well, that's an entirely different mystery. This was the item that had been stolen."

My surprise almost overwhelmed me as I looked where George indicated and saw the Grecian urn I had stolen was back in the case. George continued, "Four days after the robbery, an alarm was tripped in here, and when security came to investigate, they found the urn was back in its display case."

Chris added, "It was as if it had never been stolen. We put it under a microscope to find evidence of who may have taken or returned it, but it was forensically clean."

George said, "As far as the museum is concerned, this is no longer a concern for the police. However, Chris, here, is not inclined to let it go."

I turned to Chris with a questioning look. She said, "It was stolen, so a crime was committed. Returning it doesn't change that fact. It may lessen the punishment, but a crime still occurred."

I shrugged and said, "That raises even more questions." I turned to George and asked, "So, during your investigation, someone managed to sneak in and replace the urn, and nobody saw it happen?"

George got an angry look as he said, "I'll admit that it was a bit chaotic during that first week. We were tearing things apart, trying to figure out what had happened so we could fix it and prevent it from happening again. While the system was down, we relied on security guards walking through the exhibits to monitor things."

I smiled at George and soothingly said, "I'm not faulting you for that. After all, our business focuses on preventing stuff from leaving the premises, not preventing stuff from entering the premises." I saw George relax as he realized I wasn't criticizing his efforts.

I turned back to Chris and said, "I'm with George on this. As far as the museum is concerned, the issue is how they got around the security system to pull off the job and upgrade the system to prevent it again. I can certainly lend my expertise to that aspect. As far as recovery and punishment, that's in your purview. I can help you with insights into criminal thinking or if you want someone to bounce theories off of."

I really hoped that Chris would want to maintain contact with me. Not only because I could try to steer her away from anything pointing toward me but because I felt something between us that I wanted to try to pursue. I smiled at Chris before adding, "I've never worked on a case where someone broke in to return something stolen earlier, so this will also be a learning experience for me."

Chris said, "Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to show us around, George. I think we've seen enough at the moment. We'll let you get back to work."

We then walked out to the front of the museum, and George excused himself. I turned to Chris and said, "Well, that was interesting."

"Yes, it was," Chris said. She then asked shyly, "Do you need to get back to your office right away?"

My breath caught at the thought that Chris wanted to spend more time with me. Trying not to sound too eager, I said, "No, not really. I told Stephanie not to expect me back in the office today."

"Good," said Chris. "There's a place just off Broadway in Santa Monica called Bar Chloe. After this, I need a drink, and I'd prefer not to drink alone."

I saw the hopeful look on Chris's face and answered, "No, one shouldn't drink alone. Drinking is better done with a friend." I hoped Chris wouldn't think I was too forward calling her a friend so soon.

A relieved look came over Chris's face as she said, "Yes, it is."

We hurried out to the parking lot, and I told Chris I'd follow her. She gave me the address in case we separated before we got in our cars and headed out. Thirty minutes later, we approached Bar Chloe, found the parking garage next to it, and pulled in to park. We walked over to Bar Chloe, and Chris opened the door for me. I thanked her and headed in, finding it a nice little place with a well-appointed bar all along the back wall with seating scattered around in a dimly lit atmosphere.

We found an isolated table in a dark corner where we could talk without being overheard or interrupted. When the waitress came to our table, we ordered Coronas. When she left to put in our order, we both took a moment to admire her ass before Chris turned to me and asked, "Why would someone steal a valuable artifact and then return it four days later?"

At least I could honestly express my surprise over that because I had been wondering about that myself all the way over here. I knew my client, Brian, came across as a flibbertigibbet at times, but this was something even I wouldn't have expected from him. I'd have to ask him about it if I ever got the chance. I answered, "I don't have a clue. It makes no sense. Are they sure it's the real thing and not a forgery?"

"That's what George and I thought, but the experts examined it and said it was the real item and not a fake," Chris replied.

Our waitress brought our beers to us, and we tapped the necks together before taking a pull. After a moment of silence, I asked, "We know how one person may have gotten in and out of the area. Any clues as to how the group got in and out?"

Chris leaned in and said, "Our best guess is they parked at the end of Surfview Lane, got through the fence, crossed over Los Liones Drive, exploited a gap in camera coverage, and came up to the museum by the Café. They then hugged the wall until they reached the door that they breached."

As Chris explained, I pictured them doing that. I was glad I had rejected using that entrance point because there was only one egress point out of that area. It would have been embarrassing to bump into them and try to explain that we were both robbing the place at the same time. When Chris finished, I asked, "What evidence do you have for that?"

"We found a fresh break in the fence at the end of the street and four sets of footprints in the dust going both ways," Chris said. "We checked all of the homes on that street, but no one saw anything or had any security cameras, so we have no idea what vehicle they drove. The tire tracks we found were from a common tire used on many commercial vehicles, so no help there."

I was fascinated by the movement of Chris's lips as she spoke, so I hadn't noticed that she had stopped talking. After an awkward silence, I realized she had and guiltily raised my eyes to hers. They were wide and dilated, and I could see her desire for me in them. I smiled and hid my embarrassment by raising my bottle and taking another pull. I noticed her eyes went to my neck, and her tongue peeked out and wetted her lips. I heated up as I realized that she was into me as much as I was into her.