They waited until Monday night. After they were positive that Simon was fast asleep, after listening at his door for his light, breathy snoring. After Mickey found the address in a little moleskin notebook in the top drawer of his desk. After Chris had scoped it out while he said he was shopping for clothes in town. After Harold left and the white paint dried. After they'd all met in the garage the night before and talked through every detail in hushed tones. After they were almost sure it was safe.
They pulled out of Simon's gate around one in the morning, headlights off. Andre was at the wheel, Mickey rode shotgun so he could navigate, and Judy and Chris were in the backseat. Once they were near the highway, Andre switched on the high beams. Their four duffel bags and the backpack of cash were stacked at Chris and Judy's feet, to leave room in the trunk for the safe. The house was a moderately sized place far on the outskirts of Seattle. It was a not unpleasant shade of yellow. As they pulled up, Judy passed out the ski masks.
They parked the car in the back and crept up. Chris got them in the side door with a screwdriver and some wire. As it swung open, he was met with the scent of a room freshener that reminded him of his grandfather's place. In the deep blue gloom, he could see that the house was practical to the point of being stripped bare. The four of them stepped into a kitchen that was all sterile linoleum and metal. A rack of utensils gleamed in the moonlight that came through the curtainless window.
"Simon's notebook said the safe is in the basement." Mickey said. The ring through his left eyebrow glinted silver. "Wherever that might be."
"Well, let's look around for a staircase." Judy said. "You get any idea of the floor plan of this place when you drove by, Chris?"
"Not exactly. Couldn't see much through the windows. I know there's a living room over there..." As he spoke, something rubbed against his shin and he almost puked up his heart. "Shit!"
Chris looked down. A pair of blue eyes looked back up at him, glowing. The eyes meowed. Mickey stepped over, reached down and scooped up a small Siamese cat.
"Aw," he cooed, "Sweet kitty. Almost makes me feel bad about robbing this rich fuck." The cat squirmed out of his arms and leapt to the counter.
"I think I found the stairs, guys." Judy called. She flicked a switch and the bare white bulb hanging over the steps came on. They left the cat and descended. To one side there was a laundry room with a concrete floor, washer, dryer, and litter box, to the other, a wide room with a TV set. Through this room was a hallway with a bathroom, guest room, and a locked door at the end. Chris couldn't quite get this lock. Andre waved him aside and put his shoulder to the door. It took him two good shoves before the frame cracked. They stepped into a tight, neat little office. It had a desk, filing cabinets, and a leather chair with wheels. In the corner, on the floor, sat a black metal safe.
"Motherfuckin' jackpot!" Mickey shouted.
"Stay quiet." Andre cautioned.
"What? It's not like anybody's home."
"You have a point. Want to try and help me lift this bad boy?"
It was around the size of a mini fridge, only wider. They tipped it away from the wall, then heaved with their knees, carrying it between the two of them, breathing strained and deep. Chris walked in front of them, opening doors and guiding the way. Judy went behind, closing doors and switching off lights.
"Is that thing even going to fit in the trunk?" She asked.
"If it doesn't," Mickey said, "We can stick it in the back and one of you can ride in the trunk." He laughed, then grunted with the weight of it. They started up the stairs. When he reached the top, Chris turned around and smiled.
