Читать книгу The Double Eagle - James Twining - Страница 20

10:27am

As Sheppard had predicted, the Officer in Charge, Captain Rigby, was standing in the large entrance atrium ready to greet her. He gave her a brief handshake and what looked to Jennifer like a forced smile as Sheppard introduced them.

He was tall, perhaps six foot four, his uniform immaculate, his hair clipped short, his eyes bristling with well-drilled efficiency. From his snatched glances, Jennifer could tell that he was struggling to reconcile Sheppard’s garish golfing outfit with his well-ordered world. She decided to keep it short and businesslike, sensing that anything else would fail to show up on Rigby’s internal radar.

‘Thank you very much for agreeing to see me today, Captain.’

‘That’s quite all right, Agent Browne,’ he said stiffly. ‘We all have a job to do.’ The way his pale eyes narrowed a fraction over his thin nose and high cut cheekbones suggested what he was really thinking. That he thought this was a waste of time. That he didn’t want her or any other federal pains in the asses anywhere near his facility, asking him questions, disrupting his routine, marking his polished floor with their gumshoes. He just wanted her out, ASAP. That suited her just fine.

‘Have you received the instructions from Washington?’

He nodded.

‘Yes, they came through this morning. As requested we have left the items in situ.’

‘Good. Then before we go down, I wonder whether you could answer a couple of questions.’

‘What sort of questions?’ Rigby’s tone was immediately suspicious.

‘Any questions I choose to ask, Captain,’ Jennifer answered firmly.

‘This is a classified installation,’ Rigby countered forcefully. ‘If you think I’m just going to reveal sensitive intel without specific authorisation, then I suggest you get back on your plane, Agent Browne.’

‘And if you think I’m going to leave here without everything I want, I suggest you take another look at your orders, Captain.’ Jennifer’s voice was hard and her eyes flashed defiance. Normally, she would have preferred to use reason rather than raising her voice, but in Rigby’s case she sensed he had been conditioned not to react to anything else. ‘They specify full and unconditional cooperation with the FBI for the duration of our investigation, including disclosing relevant security procedures. If you’ve got a problem with that, then I suggest we step into your office right now and call your and my superiors in Washington. I think we both know what the answer would be.’

There was an awkward silence, punctured only by the rasping of the studs on Sheppard’s golf shoes against the marble floor as he nervously shifted his weight onto his other foot. Rigby had gone a deep shade of red and he seemed to be rolling something around between his thumb and forefinger, the tips of both fingers white from squeezing so hard. Jennifer, lips pressed together, returned his glare until, eventually, he managed a grimace that she assumed approximated to a smile.

‘Very well,’ he conceded, his voice slightly strangled.

‘I have no intention of prying, Captain,’ Jennifer said, adopting a more conciliatory tone now that she had made her point. ‘Just a bit of background about the installation to go into my report. For instance, is this a military or a Federal installation?’

‘Oh,’ Rigby sounded relieved, although there was still an unmistakeably impatient edge to his voice. ‘A bit of both. The buildings are on an army base so they have some responsibility for the security and defence of the facility. But it is run by the US Treasury and staffed by officers from the Mint Police. There are twenty-six of us in all.’

Jennifer frowned.

‘Buildings? I only see one building.’

‘No.’ Rigby shook his head firmly. ‘It’s two buildings. The one that you see around you now is just a single story outer shell built from granite and lined with concrete. But the vault itself is an entirely separate building on two levels built from steel plates, I-beams and cylinders, all encased in reinforced concrete.’

‘So how do you get in?’

‘Through a twenty-ton steel door.’

Jennifer nodded, satisfied.

‘Okay. Then let’s get started.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

He set off, with Jennifer next to him and Sheppard bringing up the rear. She soon saw what he had meant about the two buildings. The atrium led to a corridor running left and right that encircled the vault with offices and storerooms giving off its outer edge. It was a narrow, constricted space and Jennifer recognised the same ruthless anonymity she had witnessed in other Federal installations, the Bureau included. She was glad when they emerged, having turned right and then followed the corridor round until they were on the other side of the building, into another large space.

Here, the large steel shutters that had been set into the outer granite wall and the loading bays and ramps suggested that this was where bullion and supplies were moved in and out. Opposite the shutter, built into the vault wall, was the gleaming steel bulk of the vault door.

‘No single person has the combination to the vault,’ Rigby continued. ‘Instead three separate combinations are required, each held by different members of my team.’

As he spoke he approached a console to the right of the door. Beyond a plate glass window to the side of them that looked onto the atrium, Jennifer saw another two men step towards similar consoles. Ten seconds later there was a series of loud clunks as the restraining bolts retracted. With a steady mechanical drone the massive door began to swing back towards them, steel pistons gleaming and hissing like a steam train.

‘It’s certainly an impressive set-up.’

At these words, Rigby came as close to smiling as she imagined he had ever done in his life and she sensed that their earlier disagreement had temporarily, at least, vanished from his mind.

‘Ma’am, I’m proud to say this installation is more secure than most of our missile silos. We’re in the middle of a fully manned Army base. We have our own power plant, water system and strategic food reserves. We have twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty degree surveillance. Nothing gets in or out of here that isn’t meant to.’

They stepped inside the vault and walked along a narrow metal platform to the elevator that took them with a low-pitched whine down to the basement vault floor. Rigby held the gate open for them. Jennifer looked slowly around her.

The room was like a massive warehouse, consisting of two floors built around the central space in which they were now standing. Each floor was divided into compartments with thick steel bars separating and enclosing the top of each compartment, so that they looked like a series of huge cages. Within each compartment, stacked from floor to ceiling, were thousands upon thousands of gold bars. It took her a few seconds to realise that she was unconsciously holding her breath; fearful, perhaps, that the sound of her breathing might rouse the slumbering dragon who must surely be guarding such a fairy-tale treasure.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ Sheppard winked. ‘It still hits me right here every time I see it.’ He clutched a clenched fist to his chest as Jennifer nodded silently. The gold was everywhere she looked, glowing and alive, a huge dull mass pulsing rhythmically in the flicker of the lights like the beat of a powerful heart.

‘We have small shipments going in and out of the facility all the time,’ Rigby cut into her thoughts, pointing at three large silver containers standing in the middle of the room, each about four foot long, two feet wide and three feet high with the US Treasury seal emblazoned across the front. ‘This is what the bullion is transported in. These are due to go out this afternoon.’

‘Right.’ She nodded, smiling. Complimenting his facility seemed to have transformed Rigby into the very model of inter-agency cooperation.

‘But the items you requested to see are over here.’ He led her towards a compartment on the far left of the room. As she drew closer, she could see that it seemed a little less full than the other cages and contained boxes and briefcases and files.

‘As you can see,’ said Rigby, holding up a large metal tag that was fixed to the door of the compartment, ‘each of the thirty four compartments is sealed. When any seal is broken, the compartment’s contents are re-inventoried and resealed by the US Mint.’

He snapped the seal off and reaching into his pocket for a key, unlocked the cage and stepped in. He emerged a few moments later holding a thin aluminium briefcase that he held out to Jennifer with a nod.

‘I believe that this is what you came for.’

‘I’ll open it down here.’

‘As you wish.’

Rigby carried the case over to one of the containers and placed it down flat on its side, its catches facing Jennifer. She reached forward and flicked the catches open, the noise echoing through the room like rifle shots. Imperceptibly, Sheppard and Rigby moved around to stand either side of her.

She opened the case, only to find another smaller box, about 8 inches long and 6 inches wide, inside it. It was covered in dark blue velvet that had worn away around the corners, leaving them bald and frayed. The top had been stamped with the gold seal of the US Treasury, now faded and dull.

Jennifer gently removed the box from the case and pressed the small gold catch that released the lid, her throat suddenly dry and tight. The lid snapped up, revealing an interior lined in creamy white silk that had been fashioned to snugly house five large coins, two along the top, three along the bottom.

But the box was empty.