I couldn’t spot the security camera, but that was no surprise. Inside the mansion, the cameras would be well hidden. I hazarded a guess that it was in the chandelier. There would be more, all over the mansion. The blueprints didn’t note where the cameras were installed, but Breadknife’s notes made it clear that every hallway and every room was well monitored. The security room was near the lobby, and it was a safe bet that a guard was positioned there at all times, scrutinizing the security feeds.
I eyed the guard by the door. He was a slight complication, but not one I hadn’t anticipated. I’d just have to be careful and fast.
I went over to one of the carts with the cutlery, and began to set one of the tables, copying the actions of an experienced waitress nearby. I didn’t really know which was the salad fork and which was the dinner fork, nor any of the other cutlery names. But I was more than capable of giving them my own names. Papa fork went by baby fork, to the left of the dishes, while mommy fork went above them. Mister knife and his two girlfriend spoons, big mama and little minx, went to the right. Folding the napkin took a bit of work, but after a few attempts I got it right. By the third place setting I was a professional, and even got an appreciative grunt from Jonathan as he went past.
Looking around at the very slow progress, I determined it would take about four hours to get the entire hall set to Jonathan’s standards. I decided to make my move about halfway through the evening, when the drudgery and repetitiveness of the job would make everyone in the room inattentive.
After fifteen minutes of cutlery fun, the double doors opened, and the unmistakable Maximillian Fuchs marched inside. Even without our earlier surveillance, I would have immediately pegged him as the man in charge. The hair at the back of my neck prickled at the sight of him, though I couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. He was very tall, his face pale and sharp, his eyes dark. His hair was a shock of white, but not the white hair of an old man. More like the white of a blank page. He wore a dark blue suit that seemed timeless—a suit that a man could wear in the thirties, or today, and radiate the same amount of authority and importance.
He stood motionless, inspecting us as we worked in silence. No one joked or laughed or talked under his scrutiny. Everyone knew instinctively to remain quiet and professional. I began imagining that his eyes were following me in particular. Was it possible that he could sense something was off about me? My palms began to heat up, and I focused on memories of Christmas with my parents, opening gifts early in the morning, shrieking with joy as they stood above me, smiling. My breathing became steadier, my heartbeat slowed.
All he did was stand and look at us. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong with the man, but I didn’t know why. I kept waiting for him to leave, but he didn’t. Finally, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I would have to sneak out with Maximillian looking.
Jonathan was ranting at one of the waitresses, who had mixed up her mommy fork and baby fork. I interrupted him mid-rant.
“Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
He motioned impatiently at the double door with the guard. “What hovel did you work in before you came here?” he shouted. “Was it Kentucky Fried Chicken? What sort of amateur does that?”
I walked away, approaching the guard by the door. I clutched my stomach slightly and winced. “Hey,” I said, my voice slightly tight. “Which way to the ladies’ room?” I felt Maximillian glancing my way, and tried to ignore his look.
“Just go out to the lobby, first door to the right,” the guard answered, his face sympathetic.
“Thanks.” I grimaced, clutching my stomach a bit tighter, and opened the door, closing it behind me.
Okay, I’d definitely established my need to go number two. That meant I had about ten minutes before the guard began wondering where I was. I glanced at my watch. Nine fifteen.
The lobby was grand and spacious, but I had no time to waste gawking. Was there a man in the security room, watching me right now? I was almost sure there was. After all, a single waitress roaming the hallways was something that stood out.
I felt in my pocket for the vial I had with me, and palmed it. Then I wandered around a bit, as if searching for the bathroom, checking behind a few doors, carefully staying away from the actual bathroom. Finally, I beelined directly to the door of the security room and opened it.
A middle-aged guard sat there, and as I had thought, he was studying a row of monitors, one of which displayed me, standing by the doorway. He swiveled his chair and looked at me balefully.
“Oh, sorry!” I said. “I was looking for the bathroom?”
“Does this look like the bathroom?” the man asked impatiently.
“I’m really sorry.”
He stared at me, but I didn’t budge, wearing my slightly confused expression. I used the time to watch the monitors, trying to figure out the locations of the security cameras.
Finally he sighed. “Just across the lobby.” he sighed. “White door. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks, sir,” I said.
He had already swiveled away.
My thumb flicked open the vial hidden in my palm. I quickly upended it into a trashcan to the side of the door, holding my breath. The few drops of liquid dribbled into the can, and I could already glimpse the fumes rising. I left the room, closing the door behind me. Then I went to the bathroom.
The vial had contained a sleep draught. Not a lot—I didn’t want the security guard to fall into a deep sleep. It would be too suspicious if he was found later. No, I just wanted him to be drowsy enough to be unable to focus. Even if he noticed me in the monitors later, he would remember I was the dim-witted girl who went to look for the bathroom, and would be too sleepy to care.
The potion should work in about two minutes, but he was a bit fatter than I had planned, and I decided to give him three minutes. I put on my Bluetooth earphone, and connected to the voice chat.
“Okay, almost there,” I said. “Just waiting for the dude in the security room to nod off.”
“Good,” Harutaka’s voice piped in my ear. He sat in the nearby lawyer’s mansion with his laptop, waiting.
I counted the seconds, checking the time. Twenty past nine. Good enough. The guard in the security room should be fighting to keep his eyelids open by now.
I left the bathroom, and opened one of the doors. It led to a hallway I knew well from the blueprints. I strode down the corridor, ignoring the doors to my left and right, until it branched. I took a right, and walked to the end of the corridor. To my left was a door, which led to the server room.
I opened it, slid inside, and closed it behind me.
It was cold here, and dark. Blinking lights revealed there really were several computers. Harutaka had been right. I approached the closest one and checked behind it, using a small flashlight to shine a dim light on its surface. There was an available USB port amid the spaghetti of wires attached to it.
I suddenly hesitated. “Listen… I’m in the server room. I can plug your USB stick in one of the computers. But if I leave it plugged in, someone might find it later.”
“Don’t worry,” Harutaka said, sounding amused. “No one will find it.”