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to meet with us,” I said once we had settled. “I need to know about art-gallery security.”
    John lifted one eyebrow. That was it. One eyebrow.
    It did the trick.
    â€œWe’re not planning a heist,” Nico said quickly. “We’re not stealing anything.”
    â€œIt’s more like…” I hesitated. How far could I go with the truth? This guy was a stranger. “Let’s just say the art gallery is missing something of value. And they don’t even know it.”
    I met his eyes. They were a steely gray, but I could see a dash of humor in them.
    â€œWhat do you want to know?” was all he said.
    â€œLet’s start with…what kind of security systems do they usually have in place?”
    He leaned back in the chair. “ CCT cameras. Probably motion sensors. Most do.”
    I felt my heart fall. How could Nico and I get around those?
    â€œHow old is the gallery in question?” John asked.
    â€œ1970s,” I said. “It’s one of those monuments to the god of concrete. Parts of it were renovated about ten years ago, I think.”
    â€œThe alarm system may be original,” he said. “Probably was state-of-the-art when installed. Most don’t get updated like they should, especially the nonprofit sites. Easy to tell.”
    Nico shot to alert. “How?”
    John shrugged. “Take a walkabout. Look for wires along the floor. Check to see if they are painted over. That will signal a system that has been there a long time. It may not even be working.”
    Made sense. “But what about the CCT cameras?”
    John cocked his head. “They probably link back to a monitor in a security room. At least, that’s what most people think. Television paints us a nice picture, but reality is quite different. There may be only one guard on duty. Those poor sods are paid minimum wage. How diligent are they going to be about watching every camera, every minute of their shift?”
    Good point, I thought. Not to mention, if they only made minimum wage, they might also be working two jobs.
    â€œProbably they have other things to do. Make the rounds. Visit the loo. Have a nap.” John appeared to be reading my mind.
    â€œHow would you get past the motion sensors?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s the tricky part. Those sensors can be really sensitive. For instance, a cat let loose in the building can trip them. And trip them. And trip them.”
    For a second, I just watched his face. It changed from impassive to tricky. One might also say…playful.
    â€œThe old ‘crying wolf in the art gallery’ trick,” said Nico, getting excited. “Oh really, that’s brilliant.”
    â€œThe security guard goes to check when the first alarm goes off. And the second. But eventually gets fed up,” I said. “I like it.”
    My mind was already devising a plan. How could we get into the gallery after dark? Or maybe…we’d go in at the end of the day and hide. Wait for the gallery to close. We’d have to bring a cat in with us, maybe in a bag. How would we keep the cat quiet? No, that wouldn’t work…
    â€œOf course, the easiest way would be to do the job when the motion sensors are off.”
    I straightened. “When do you mean?”
    Now I got a genuine smile from him. “During the day, when the gallery is open.”
    Nico gasped. “With all sorts of people about? Isn’t that brazen?”
    John leaned forward. “The trick would be to create a diversion. A really big diversion.”
    My mind shifted to warp speed.
    * * *
    An hour later, the three of us had finished the pasta verde (best in the city). We said our thanks and goodbyes. I headed back to the store. I snuck into the back office while Tiff dealt with a customer out front.
    A plan was buzzing in my head. It was the sort of plan that would require a specific kind of talent. Time to call in the big guns.
    I picked