the guards to tell them how to get jobs there, all the while glancing past them to get a few looks inside the building or at its entry points. Now and again, security would chase someone off, like when a particularly grumpy Italian ordered Mathew, Peter, and Tommy to find someplace else to play dice, unaware that Bernard was casually wandering by to get a look around the grounds.
Some of the doors were secured with locked chains. To deal with those, the lads came in pairs during the night—Francis and Danny or Paddy and Bernard—and while one man kept watch for the patrolling guards, the other carefully filed deep, fine cuts into the chain links. They didn’t do enough damage to break the chins or to be obvious, and the men carefully swept any metal shavings into the dirt, but all it would take was a hearty yank or a shove from inside, and the strategically weakened chains would snap like icicles.
During one of Liam’s “shifts,” a cat went in through an open door, and Liam seized the opportunity and followed it. He was caught, of course, and the men who caught him threatened to take him to see their boss and explain why he was there. He’d used his relative youth to his advantage, pleaded innocence and ignorance, and said he was just trying to collect his sister’s escaped cat. He’d even pointed out “Tiggy,” who had by then made her way up into the rafters and refused to come down no matter how much Liam begged. The guards had still thrown him out and warned him not to come back, but they’d taken enough pity on him to let him go. One had even climbed up, collected the cat, and brought her out to him, too.
Now Peter was grousing that there was a cat living in their apartment, but little did the warehouse’s security know, Liam had gotten a good look around. As soon as he’d had a pencil and a newspaper in hand, he’d sketched out a crude map of what he’d seen inside—specifically, how many rows and aisles there were, how at least two of the doors were secured, and where the potentially lucrative merchandise was held.
There was no point in trying to get any of the larger crates. They were too big and likely too heavy to move, and they would draw too much attention. Near the middle of the warehouse, though, were smaller crates, many of which already had wheels under them. The lads would bring a little grease in case the wheels squeaked, plus some crowbars to open the crates and see if what was inside was worth stealing. No point in going to all that trouble for a box of sewing thread and doll clothes.
After a week of carefully scouting the location, testing all its locks, and strategically weakening all its defenses, they knew all the needed to know. The crew was ready.
And tonight, they were going in.
Bernard, Francis, Paddy, and Danny went in through a door they knew to be open this time of night. It was the one the guards used to trade off between walking around the inside and the outside. The lads stayed back in the shadows, waited until the guards had switched, and then they crept inside.
Staying quiet and low, they navigated the layout they’d all memorized from Liam’s map. Everything was vaguely illuminated by a few overhead lights, but it was mostly dark. Now and again, they’d pause and listen for the guards.
Liam had indicated that when he’d peered between and behind some of the crates, there was more hidden away. Familiar-looking crates and barrels, he thought. Liquor, then, and if not, something valuable enough to hide, which meant something valuable enough to steal.
They stopped by some large crates that matched Liam’s description.
“I say we move these out of the way,” Danny whispered. “See what’s back there.”
“Well we’re certainly not stealing these.” Bernard tapped the side of the crate. “We’d be seen for sure.”
“But whatever’s behind it…” Francis craned his neck. “If Liam’s right, then there’s—”
Suddenly, they were bathed in stark light, and they all froze.
Danny turned toward the source, shielding his face with one hand and squinting as he tried to make out who was behind the flashlights.
“And what are you boys doing?” came a gruff, obviously Italian voice.
“Uh.” Danny swallowed. “Looking for our cat?”
The guards snickered.
“Uh-huh.” One of them lowered his flashlight enough for them to see his face. “Tell you what. We can