“So how are we going to get in?”
“Simple, I hack into the computer network and modify the house’s security parameters. If I do it behind the scenes, the Chief and his boys won’t notice a thing; it’ll look like everything is functioning normally. Then we slip in through the back door.”
“So you’re a computer hacker now?”
“Look. I could tell you but…”
“Yeah, yeah. But then you’d have to kill me right?”
Jessie nodded sagely.
“But what about Fowler’s rules, hey? What if we get caught?”
“Screw Fowler’s rules. And we won’t get caught. I have a plan Marla, a very good plan.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s just… I can’t afford to mess up my chances of getting paid.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it toots. An integral part of my plan is that it is founded upon the bedrock principle of not messing up getting paid.”
Jessie’s words were doing nothing to reassure her. She had a fleeting vision of herself, Jessie, Pietro and Adam standing in front of Fowler’s desk stone drunk and wearing idiotic party hats, desperately trying desperately to explain themselves.
“Admit it, you want to stick to The Man too. I see it in your eyes.”
Marla was of two minds, but the idea of spending the night partying with Adam was tipping the balance a little.
“So, there was another reason I brought you out here toots, apart from yoga practice I mean…”
Jessie’s voice had taken on a hushed, conspiratorial tone. Marla turned to her, placing a hand over her forehead to block out the sun. She was a mirror image of Jessie, partners in crime.
“Don’t be too obvious, but I want you to lie back and look up at the trees to the right of the house. Make it look like you’re just stretching out, relaxing.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Just. Do. It,” Jessie whispered firmly.
Marla did as she was told. The trees to the right were away from the sun and as Marla’s eyes adjusted she could just make out a white bird perching high up in the topmost branches.
“What do you see?”
“A white bird.”
“Look again.”
“What the hell is this about Jessie?”
“That’s no bird. Look again.”
Marla squinted up at the trees once more. The white bird looked strangely still. No song emanated from its black beak.
“Marla, it’s a security camera.”
“No it isn’t…”
“Yes it is. And they’re all over this island, watching us night and day.”
Marla’s skin flushed cold.
Marla could see security cameras everywhere as she and Jessie walked through the trees towards her own summerhouse. She could see them in the white of the clouds peeking through branches and in the feathers of songbirds perched on the gatepost as they approached the house. Then they were part of the house itself, insinuating themselves into the neutral stucco background beneath the eaves. She felt herself becoming twitchy and nervous, watching for the glint of a lens, listening out for the whirring of tiny camera motors. Shouldn’t have smoked that joint, thought Marla, get a bloody grip. I mean it’s not as though London was exactly short on security cameras. Paranoia, that’s all this is. You’ve got The Fear…
“You okay, toots?”
Jessie was part way up the path to the house. She looked back at Marla who had stopped at the gate, staring blankly up at the white stucco giant.
“Fine. I’m fine.” She walked on, catching up. “Let’s just get inside shall we?”
She passed Jessie, who looked a little concerned by Marla’s behavior, and headed for the summerhouse door. It was framed by late afternoon shadow, cool and inviting.
Inside, Jessie poured them both a stiff drink from a little stainless steel hipflask that she had hidden behind a throw cushion. Marla slugged back the drink, balancing out the effects of the smoke and the heat.
“Why didn’t you tell me about them before? The cameras?”
“Look, you seemed so damned blissed out, I didn’t want to lay any downers on you. I thought you’d spot them yourself soon enough anyway, city girl like you.”
“Must be losing my touch, or my eyesight. Or both.”
Marla felt positively myopic. How had she missed these spies in the skies, watching her as she walked up the path to the house, tracking her movements as she made her way to Jessie’s and Pietro’s? Why didn’t she notice them zooming in on her as she chatted with Adam outside the summerhouse?
There’s a thing, thought Marla sighing with relief. Maybe there isn’t anything wrong with me after all. Adam didn’t want to make a move because he knew the cameras were there! Her sigh became a dry chuckle. Then her chuckling stopped—he should’ve told her about the cameras sooner too. Whatever, she’d just have to drag him inside and jump him next time. Try zooming in on that, pesky cameras. Then a new flood of paranoia invaded her daydream—what if there were cameras inside the summerhouse? In the bedroom. The shower? She looked up at the ceiling, nervously peering into the corner shadows.
“Oh don’t worry girl, they’re not inside,” laughed Jessie, reading her mind.
“Yeah but… How do you know that?”
“First thing I checked. Fucked if I’m giving Fowler a free show of my ass.”
Marla made a harrumphing sound, unconvinced. But, try as she might, she could see no cameras inside her little home.
“So are you gonna help me? Get this party started?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No. No you don’t.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Easy. Go for a jog.”
First yoga and now jogging? This was turning into a full-blown triathlon. Marla snatched the hipflask from Jessie’s hand and drank from it defiantly.
Jessie’s instructions seemed simple enough. Three days from now, Marla was to get up at seven o’clock, have a light breakfast of fruit and juice, then shower. She would then slip into a pair of shorts and a vest and start jogging at exactly eight o’clock. Her route was to take her away from the house, down the path she had first walked up on her arrival at the island, then down past the security building. Reaching the steps on her left, she was to jog down them and onto the jetty, where she would be required to perform a series of seductive stretches to distract Fowler’s bored black-clad security drones.
And the purpose of this fool’s errand? To divert interest, enabling Jessie to sneak round to The Big House and break in undetected. So they could have a secret bloody party.
Marla had decided she needed her head examined. She wasn’t even sure if jogging that far was possible. The last time she had run, really run, was for the number 29 bus on Tottenham Court Road. Wishing she hadn’t pointed this out to Jessie, she now faced the prospect of two “practice runs” leading up to the main event. Anyone watching on the cameras would get used to seeing Marla taking a morning jog. They would, in fact, think she was being a good girl and following Fowler’s rulebook guidelines about daily exercise. Her change in route down to the jetty though, coupled with the sexy stretches, would create enough of a stir to prevent them from noticing Jessie skulking through the trees towards The Big House.
With a resigned sigh, Marla pulled on her sneakers and jogged out the door. Truth was, she needed a party just as much as the others did, even if it meant exercising. And if Adam was around—well, a little interest from his cohorts might provoke him to finally make a move next time he and Marla were alone.