There was a gap underneath the bed. It would be a tight squeeze but I reckoned I could manage it if I had to. Helpfully, there were also several built-in wardrobes. It was nice to have options. Now all I had to do was wait and hope that Byron didn’t plan to hold his meetings here in the suite. He had to leave sooner or later. I pinched the bridge of my nose and wished I’d thought to grab a glass of water before I pretended to leave. My mouth was as dry as a badger’s arse. My breath probably smelled even worse.
If I closed the bedroom door completely, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Whoever had crafted this room put a lot of effort into the details. I was certain, however, that it been ajar last night so, as long as I was careful, I could leave it that way and give myself a line of sight into the living room.
I experimented with the light, checking that my shadow wouldn’t give me away if I stood in the corner, and peeked out. The chance of Byron wandering in here was slim. If he did, however, I wanted to be able to scoot under the bed without him noticing the flicker of movement.
Once I was satisfied with my position, I relaxed a little. Not a moment too soon either as I heard the door opening and Byron emerging. I squinted at him through the gap. He’d dressed casually in a pair of jogging trousers and tight T-shirt. It was as if he had to show off his pecs, even when he was alone. Poser.
He moved around the room, sometimes within my line of sight and sometimes not. After downing a glass of juice which looked so orange and so tasty that I was gagging to run out and snatch it from him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He walked to the window and murmured into it. It was annoying that I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I tensed, straining my ears, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t catch more than a word or two.
Not long after he hung up, there was a sharp rap on the door. Byron strolled over and opened it.
‘Morning. How are things?’ asked another male voice. ‘I thought you’d be done by now.’
‘Things are good,’ he answered. ‘It’s just a more delicate operation than I realised. I’m going to take my time. Come on. Let’s head downstairs and see what Jamie has to say.’
I frowned. Delicate operation? That was an odd way to talk about getting your leg over. Not that I really cared. In fact, it probably wasn’t anything to do with my little sleepover and was about the business he was in town for.
I nibbled my bottom lip. Was he here just for the Lia Saifire or was the jewel merely an added bonus? The part of me that had flirted with him the night before hoped the jewel’s disappearance wouldn’t cause him too many problems. The part of me that remembered what it was like to be eleven years old and dismissed by him hoped that it would.
I wasn’t used to feeling this conflicted and I didn’t like it.
After he left, I stayed where I was. It was important to wait for at least ten minutes. Speck used to tell a story about when he’d hung around hotels and, using a cleverly keyed master card that he’d developed himself, darted into the guest rooms when the occupants went down to breakfast. There were at least three occasions when he was almost caught. People are forgetful. They come back to see if they’ve left the iron on. Or they need their wallet or their phone or whatever. I had to allow for those sorts of memory lapses. It’s not like this was my first snatch and grab; I was an experienced professional.
Once the allotted time had passed, I opened the door and snuck out. The suite was completely silent. Allowing myself a moment of luxury, I grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the tap and gulped it down. Damn, that was good. Then I squared my shoulders. It was time to get down to business.
Humming the theme tune to The Guns of Navarone, I went back into the main bedroom, making a beeline for the wardrobe. I pushed it open and knelt down, examining the small safe. I almost laughed aloud; it was a typical cheap hotel version. Breaking into this would be a piece of cake. The standard keypad lock would take me mere seconds to open. You’d think that a hotel as exclusive as this – and a suite as expensive as this – would have a better system. I tutted to myself. Served them right for taking so much care over the luxury fixtures and fittings and skimping on the important stuff.
I tried a few quick variations, just in case Byron had been daft enough to use an easy to remember number. When 0000 didn’t work, nor 1234 or 4321, I pressed down on the ‘lock’ button until the LED display flashed. With my thumb, I jabbed in a series of nines and the safe buzzed. Hey presto. It really was that easy. I grinned. No crappy hotel safe was a match for me.
I reached inside. There were envelopes and papers and a slim, velvet-covered box. I took out the box and flipped it open. A dazzling necklace lay there, nestled against the black lining. Well, that was a nice little bonus. I lifted up one edge of it then I frowned. It was fake. The gems were nothing more than paste. I snorted. Some poor girl was going to be unpleasantly ‘tricked’ by good old Byron.
I tossed it back inside and squinted towards the back of the safe. Three seconds later I stood up and slammed my fist down on the top of it, making the contents inside jump.