“I don’t think ‘good job’ is the right term,” Edie said. “I never dreamed in a million years I’d be doing this all again, only this time, with my granddaughter. And then two of my best friends got married! Where did you get that?” she asked, pointing at the safe door.
“Skinner picked it up yesterday, very kindly took the door off the rest of the safe so it wouldn’t require two of us to move it around, and dropped it off when he picked up Fran today. Who looks like death warmed over, I might add. Have you noticed how pale she is?”
“I have.” Edie was worried about Frances.
“What about getting into the vault?” The set-up at the Pelican, they had learned, was that the old safe was embedded in a larger vault.
“It’s a digital door. Once we get past the motion detectors, we have to get past the vault door. And once we get past that door, you get to crack the safe. It’s insane how everyone at that casino is inordinately proud of the old safe. Like Sammy Davis Jr. blessed it or something. What did they say on the tour? Oh right—it’s completely hackproof. Oh, and the vault door is rigged with a silent alarm as well. The tour guide said the slightest wobble would set it off.”
“Great,” Edie said. “Piece of cake. Why have I been worrying about arthritis in my fingers? This couldn’t be easier.”
Joan chuckled. “You’ll get in. You always do.”
“You mean I always did. But I’m old, Joan. My hands hurt, my eyesight is worse, I don’t know if I can hear it, and I can’t be on my knees very long without the right one locking up. What if I don’t get in? What if I fuck up and we all go down?”
“No one is going down,” Joan said with the calm authority she’d always possessed. “First, we’re all grown-ass women and we all agreed to be here. Second, if things get dicey, we get out.”
“We don’t die trying?” Edie asked with a wry smile.
“Just keep practicing.” Joan put her hand on Edie’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re still the best, Edie.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Joan pulled the hearing aid out of her ear. “I can’t hear you.” She got a tissue and cleaned it, then handed it to Edie. “Check it out.”
Edie put the hearing aid in her ear and then pressed the stethoscope Joan handed her against the door. She turned the lock and heard the ball bearings in the wheel tumbling.
“What do you think?”
Joan’s voice was so loud that Edie yipped and took it out of her ear.
“Good. It’s working. You’ll have to figure out how to juggle that with your earpiece when the time comes,” Joan said, as if suggesting Edie would have to figure out nothing more complicated than what shoes to wear. “I’ll leave you to practice your dark magic,” she said. “I’ve got a long list of things to do today.” She disappeared into her room, leaving Edie with that heavy safe door and her hearing aid.
Edie worked at it all day. The actual “cracking” wasn’t as hard as one might think. She remembered to keep her breathing even to better hear, and to be patient, because patience was everything in cracking a safe. The door had a combination disk with long handles. Most safes like it had three locking wheels behind the disk. What set the Pelican safe apart was the existence of five wheels. That meant she had to figure out how many turns to reach the first code, and how many between that wheel and the next for a total of five turns instead of three. There were an endless number of ways to set it up. She would be listening for the ball bearings to click into place through metal that would be thicker than this door. And then use a turning mechanism that resembled a steering wheel.
This was why old man Vitali had believed his safe to beuncrackable—no thief would have the sort of time it would take to figure out the combination. Edie had to be right the first time out. It was important to remain calm, because nothing would interfere with hearing the turn worse than having one’s heart in her throat.
She and Frances would have a power drill on the slim chance they could simply remove the locking mechanism. Edie didn’t think that was really a possibility—nothing was ever that easy. Imagine, if they could just remove a few screws and use a saw through some metal. No, she’d have to figure out the wheels.
She took a couple of breaks to soak her fingers in ice water. She managed to crack this door once, then had Joan reset it. She started again.
Irene showed up later that afternoon wearing her maid’s uniform and carrying a large bag. She dropped it on the coffee table as Edie struggled to gain her feet. Her legs felt like lead.
Irene pulled out some brown and black garments and tossed them at Edie’s feet. She followed that with a short, dark-haired wig and a hat.
Edie picked the things up to have a look. “You’re kidding,” she said flatly.
“Not kidding.”
“This is a security guard uniform. No one will believe I’m a man, Irene. Have you seen my hips?”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, where women can be security guards, too, Edie. And no one is going to be looking when you have this on. They’ll all be groping for light switches.”
She had a point. “Do you have any idea how slim the chances are of me getting in that vault? Much less cracking the safe?”
“God, you’re such a downer,” Irene said. “We can worry about your crisis of confidence later, but right now, you need to get ready for the male revue show.” She pulled out another outfit from the bag and handed it to Edie. Jeans, a T-shirt, and white sneakers. “What’s this?”
“Use your context clues,” Mean Irene said, nodding at the T-shirt.
