‘How?’ demanded Saxby.
‘Simply by going in with twelve cloth covers, which we shall tape over each lens.’
Saxby laughed at the simplicity, but Bertrano said, ‘It would still be impossible to avoid some of us being photographed, if only for a few minutes.’
Chambine nodded. ‘That’s why this first camera is important. It’s the most dangerous.’
He indicated Bulz and Beldini.
‘You two will go in first. You’ll wear black track suits and black hoods.’ He pointed to eight red crosses on the plan. ‘Those are the permanent lights. I want them shrouded as soon as you enter. That cuts down the photographic quality enormously… you…’ he pointed to Bulz ‘… will do that. While you…’ he nodded to Beldini ‘… will go first for this fixed camera, then criss-cross the floor, covering first the camera to the left, then the camera to the right…’
He turned back to Bulz. ‘… as soon as you’ve shrouded all the lights, you hit this other fixed camera at the other end of the room. That’s not a fish-eye, so we can afford to wait.’
He sat back from the plan, looking at the two men from Los Angeles.
‘I’ve got exact measurements of the room,’ he said. ‘And measurements, although obviously they’re only estimates, of the camera and lighting equipment placed around the room. I’ve hired a warehouse in Orlando and had duplicate equipment delivered there yesterday. After this meeting, I want you to take these plans and build a facsimile of the camera protection. And then practise. I want to come here three days from now and see you two extinguish those lights and cameras in under five minutes.’
He stopped, waiting for their comments and hoping no one would attempt a joke at the proposal. The six other men stayed serious.
‘Anyone see any problems?’ he demanded. It was a test he felt necessary.
‘It won’t work,’ said Bertrano. ‘The room is bound to have smoke sensors as part of the normal fire precautions. And if we have cloth over the lights for longer than a few moments, they’ll smoulder and set off the alarms.’
‘Right!’ said Chambine, smiling. ‘The timing is three minutes to get the cameras covered, then another two to remove all the cloths. We’ll need the light anyway to see what we’re doing.’
‘Is the exhibition at the Breakers?’ asked Petrilli.
Chambine nodded.
‘Big hotel with a full night staff,’ continued the man from Philadelphia. ‘Getting out isn’t going to be easy.’
Chambine went back to his plans, drumming his pencil against the drawing of the exhibition hall, which was uncluttered by any markings of lights or surveillance equipment. Only the positions of the display cases and the windows were shown.
‘Here,’ he said, encircling two windows at the top corner, ‘are the two windows overlooking the car park. There’s just a veranda and a section of lawn in the way. The windows are wired, obviously, but we can bypass that. The ground lights are a problem…’ He gestured to Saxby and Boella. ‘… you two will never actually enter the hall. I want you both outside, behaving like ordinary visitors. You’ll be there to warn us of any sudden attention that might come from outside. But before that, you douse these.’
He produced another drawing, showing the outside lighting.
‘But you won’t put out the section near the exhibition hall first. I want it to look like isolated fusing. And I want to create a diversion. I want some by the pool and near the drive to go first. And then those which might worry us.’
He paused, to impress them with the importance of what he was going to say.
‘Getting the timing right for the lights is as important as the practice that you’re all going to do in the warehouse. If one light goes out at the wrong time – or doesn’t go out at all – then there’s no way we’ll get away with it.’
‘Do we do it from the actual fuse box?’ asked Saxby.
Chambine shook his head. ‘We’d never be able to guarantee getting to the boxes on time. And it’s impossible to find out without actually testing which fuses operate which set of lights. We’ll have to cut the ground cables. It won’t matter when they discover what’s happened: by that time the collection will have gone anyway.’
‘We won’t be able to practise that,’ said Boella.
‘I know,’ said Chambine. ‘It means you and Saxby coming to the hotel before the robbery. I would like to have avoided that, but there’s no alternative.’
He looked at the others in the room.
‘They’ll be the only ones,’ he warned. ‘I don’t want any chance of recognition… any indication of us being a group.’
‘What’ll we do?’ asked Saxby.
‘Make no contact whatsoever with me,’ said Chambine. ‘Just appear to be ordinary visitors. Use the bars, the pool if you want. Even the golf course. But give yourselves the opportunity to isolate the cables leading to the lights I’ve marked and work out how they’re best cut. I want a complete plan prepared before I return to the warehouse to see the rehearsal with the cameras.’
The two men nodded.
‘Palm Beach is an island,’ pointed out Bertrano. ‘What’s to stop the bridges being sealed once the light cables are discovered cut?’
‘Time,’ said Chambine, confidently. ‘Before the true cause of the ground failure is discovered, we will have delivered the collection and you will have been paid off. Even if you were stopped – and it’s a million to one chance – any search of your car would show nothing.’
‘The stuff’s not leaving Palm Beach?’ asked Bertrano.
‘No,’ confirmed Chambine. ‘It’ll be in our possession for less than thirty minutes.’
Bertrano smiled. ‘Doesn’t look like being too difficult a job,’ he said.
‘Don’t think like that!’ snapped Chambine. ‘Start thinking it’s easy and you’ll relax, and when you relax, something will go wrong.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ Bertrano tried to protest, but the New Yorker interrupted him.
‘I’m not interested in what you meant. You’re all being paid a lot of money for something that has got to go without a hitch. I don’t want anyone celebrating or relaxing or thinking it’s easy until you’re all back home and the fifty grand is in your safe deposit boxes.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Bertrano.
‘It’s all right,’ Chambine replied. He was not unhappy at the episode. It had provided a way of stressing the importance of what they were attempting.
‘What if we are interrupted?’ demanded Saxby quietly.
Chambine sipped coffee, glad to have arrived at another point.
‘You’ve got guns?’ he asked.
Saxby, Boella and Petrilli nodded.
‘Ours are in the left luggage at the airport,’ said Saxby.
‘And mine’s at the Greyhound station,’ added Petrilli.
‘I’d prefer no violence,’ said Chambine. ‘Only if it can’t be avoided… it’ll foul up the escape and bring any police in far quicker
…’ He hesitated, caught by a sudden thought. ‘And if we do get away with it,’ he continued, ‘I want those guns dumped immediately we clear the hotel. I don’t want anyone seized for something as stupid as having a weapon on him, when there’s no other reason for suspicion…’
‘What about a diversion bigger than a few blacked-out lights?’ suggested Bertrano, trying to recover from their dispute.
Chambine shook his head vigorously. ‘A few fused lights is a hotel maintenance problem until it’s discovered otherwise. I don’t want anything dramatic that’s going to attract the attention of the police.’
There were various movements among those sitting before him, as they accepted the logic. Chambine studied them, deciding to emphasise the warning.
‘There’s no way that later you will be associated with this job,’ he began, ‘but I don’t want it coming back from your ends. No big spending… anything ridiculous that might attract the attention of people in cities where you live…’
The men started making gestures of assent, but Chambine continued: ‘If this comes off, as I intend it to, there’s no reason why there shouldn’t be other jobs, for the same fee. Maybe even higher.’