The rain was driving horizontally in to my face - stinging needles of water driving in to my skin and eyes. Still, "I like the rain: it washes memories off the sidewalk" as Woody would say...
I had arrived at the mansion but had to walk the half mile up to the front door from the electric gates. The guards told me no vehicles were allowed up the drive (apart from those carrying the only resident of the mansion) to prevent the "unwanted insertion of dangerous objects or people" the guards told me without flinching.
Cameras followed me. Dogs followed me (behind electrified fences bordering the driveway each side). I've no doubt guns followed me: this was the home of someone who took security seriously.
When I reached the front door I hammered on it and waited admiring as far as I could see in the torrential rain the over-the-top facade to this 19th century mansion...ok not admiring, more ridiculing, but anyway just trying to take in any details that might come in handy at some point: the job starts when I enter the premises and it an't over till the money is in the bank.
The door opened with a smooth electronic sigh but an inner wall blocked my way. No wait, it was a body guard with the presence of a wall. He held his hands out: one palm up for me to give him something, the other holding a gun pointed straight at my heart. I gave him my card and a printout of the email that had summoned me. He took both, shut the door with his foot and left me there.
Time passed.
I admired all the tree stumps for a while: the trees must have been cut down for security reasons. I admired the floodlights, the trip wires and the motion sensors. There were probably mines to admire had I had a spade...
The door opened and I was ushered in to the weirdest case of my professional life...but then I think that at the start of every new job...
No comments:
Post a Comment