Repairman Jack [02]-Legacies

"That's okay," she said. "I'll stay here."

He left Alicia on her knees, picking through the rubble pile.

Jack returned to Clayton's bedroom, grabbed one of the crowbars, and headed for the master bathroom. One thing you could pretty much count on in these older buildings—unless someone had done a wall-to-wall renovation—was copper plumbing. He'd noticed copper pipes in the kitchen, and metal pipes offered unique opportunities if you wanted to hide something metallic.

A peek into the bathroom showed that the sink and toilet had been ripped out, but the searchers hadn't chipped off the tile to expose the pipes. Not yet, at least.

Jack next went to the bedroom closet, which shared a wall with the bathroom. A knock on the wall brought a hollow sound. This wasn't part of the original house. The bathroom probably had been enlarged. He knelt and ran his fingers along the top of the wide strip of molding at the base of the wall until he found a tiny gap. He inserted the flanged tip of the crowbar. A gentle twist was all it needed—a screwdriver would have done the job—and the molding popped free, revealing a three-inch gap between the floor and the wallboard.

Just like home, Jack thought.

Over the years he'd put a lot of his money into gold coins—bad investment, yeah, but how else could he store his savings without getting a bank involved? He hid them in his apartment by taping them to the water pipes. That way the coins were safe from anybody who boosted his place, even if they brought a metal detector: The detector was expected to beep when it passed over the water pipes.

Jack slipped his hand inside and found the pipes running to and from the bathroom. It took less than a minute for his searching, fingers to locate the object taped to one of them.

"Hello."

Jack stripped off the tape and pulled it out.

He couldn't see the thing here in the darkness, but it felt hard and flat, encased in vinyl. He crawled from the closet to get a look at it in better light.

A wedge-shaped red vinyl case. He lifted the flap and pulled out a key with "#137" stamped on the bow.

Jack smiled. "Am I good, or am I good?"

The Arab and his wrecking crew would have found it eventually, especially if they were planning to take the place apart brick by brick. But now they wouldn't find squat. Served 'em right.

A safety deposit box key, from the look of it. Or maybe to a storage locker. But where?

Worry about that later, when they didn't have to watch the clock.

He went to find Alicia.

6.

Curiosity was devouring Yoshio.

He'd seen the Clayton woman's ronin wash the guards' windshield, then lean inside the driver door. After that, no one had interfered when he and the Clayton woman entered the house.

What had he done?

Yoshio couldn't resist a quick walk by the car. As he passed he saw two still forms in the front seat… so still that he thought they were dead. But then one of them stirred, lifting his head briefly, then slumped back into unconsciousness.

How had the ronin done this? A gas, or something in their coffee, perhaps?

Very clever, Yoshio thought. Very "smooth," as the Americans said.

But it appeared that whatever he'd used was beginning to wear off.

Yoshio kept moving, glancing at the house as he passed. He wished the Clayton woman and her ronin well in their search. Yoshio wanted whatever was in that house found and brought into the light.

For then he could move from mere observer to player. True, he would much prefer to contend with someone as predictable as the Arab's Sam Baker than this quick, tough, innovative stranger, but Yoshio had not the slightest doubt that he could handle either. He had many years of experience in these matters. And he would take whatever steps necessary to succeed. Kaze Group would expect that and would not accept anything less.

But you and your ronin had better hurry, Miss Clayton. Or I fear you will soon have some unwelcome company in your house.

7.

" 'This house holds the key that points the way to all you wish to achieve,' " Jack said, holding the key out to Alicia. "This could be that key. Ever seen it before?" She was still kneeling on the floor, not far from where he'd left her. She looked at the key but didn't take it.

"No. Where'd you find it?"

"Hidden in your father's closet. You wouldn't happen to know what bank he used."

She shook her head. "Not a clue." She held up the undercarriage of a toy car. "Look what I found. I replaced the wheel."

Was she cracking up? What was she doing fooling around with a toy car?

"Swell. Look, we've got to get—"

"And it still runs," she said. "Watch this."

She flicked a tiny switch and the wheels began spinning. She set the toy down on the floor. It zoomed across the boards and ran into the wall. It stayed there with its nose against the wall and its wheels spinning.

"We'll take it with us," Jack said. He was worried about the two beef jerkies snoozing outside in their car. They could be waking up now. "You can play with it the rest of the night."