Carol Clark: Laced

“When are you coming to Sweetsville?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Someone’s ringing the bell. I’d better go.”

“I’ll hold on,” Anna offered.

“No, but call me tomorrow if you have any time.” Hortense hung up the phone.

Anna stood there with the phone in her hand, not knowing what to do with herself. When in doubt, go online, she thought. She turned on her computer and pulled up every article she could find on the auction of the five Claddagh rings.

Shane Magillicuddy was a widower who lived alone in the house he had planned to sell. But now he wanted to keep the house. It was his lucky charm.

“I plan to enjoy these rings until the night of the auction,” Shane crowed in one of the articles. “I hate to give them up, but I could use the money. And I’ll have a grand time giving half of the auction proceeds to charity.”

He must still have the rings in his possession, Anna thought. She looked up his address in the directory listing and a few minutes later was printing out directions to Magillicuddy’s house. We’ll take a ride up there right now, she decided. It’s worth a shot. House break-ins are not our usual line of work, but Bobby certainly knows how to jimmy a lock.

“Bobby!” she called. “It’s time to get up!”

“For he’s a jolly good fellow,” Dermot’s friends sang as they shared a champagne toast on his luxurious private plane.

Dermot beamed. “I won’t deny it!” He laughed and waved his glass in the air. “We’re all jolly good fellows.”

There were eight fellows in all, including Dermot and his assistant, Robert. Several hours earlier Dermot had told Robert to call his guests and tell them to get to the airport as soon as possible. “There are rings and paintings waiting for me in Ireland! I’d like to leave this minute!”

That was easy for Dermot to say. Robert packed Dermot’s bags and took care of all the arrangements. Dermot didn’t have to lift a finger. The other six men, some of whom had to sweet-talk their wives into letting them go on this unexpected trip, were left to fend for themselves in the packing department.

But they all made it to the airport for the earlier departure.

“We’re ready for takeoff,” the pilot announced. “Please make sure your seat belts are fastened.”

“Ireland, here we come!” Dermot cried. “We’ll be at Hennessy Castle before noon tomorrow and then on the golf course immediately after lunch!” He settled back in his soft leather seat the size of a La-Z-Boy and smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on Brian O’Shea’s face when he told him that he’d figured out what convent the nun who was, in his opinion, the next Georgia O’Keefe, lived in.

Bobby was not pleased when Anna woke him up.

“Please, Bobby, do this for me,” she begged. “I have the feeling that these Claddagh rings will bring us luck. If we score them tonight, we can fly to Los Angeles tomorrow.”

They both dressed in black and gathered the tools they thought they might need to break into Shane Magillicuddy’s house: a hammer, a garden shovel, and a crowbar, among other useful items. They also had rope and tape that they would use to tie up and silence Shane Magillicuddy if need be.

It was three in the morning when they arrived in Salthill. The seaside resort on the north side of Galway Bay was very close to the ancient village of Claddagh where the famous rings originated.

Shane’s old stone house was set back from the road, and mountains loomed behind it.

“This is lovely,” Anna commented. “Maybe we should have bought a home around here.”

“It’s too close to Galway for us, but at least this street is isolated,” Bobby said, licking his newly glued cap with his tongue. He had used the temporary cement that Sharkey had given him and had been shocked to see a red smiley face painted inside the cap. What a dope that dentist is, he thought.

“Anna, if you weren’t so obsessed with those rings, I’d vote that this job was too dangerous.”

“Shane Magillicuddy is old, frail, and lives by himself. You heard him on Reilly’s show tonight. He’s sweet and innocent. He probably doesn’t even lock the door, never mind have a security system. This will be much easier than trying to steal the rings at the auction.”

“Where are we going to park?”

“It looks as if there’s an old shed down by the water,” Anna said, pointing to her left, “Let’s leave the car over there.”

Bobby turned off the lights and steered the car to the side of the shed, out of view of Magillicuddy’s house.

“Now remember, hon,” Anna said quietly, “if we have to tie him up, let’s be gentle. We just want to get the rings and get out fast.”

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Bobby said, still licking his cap. It felt as though it could be coming loose. “Let’s get going.”

The two black-clothed figures got out of the car and quietly closed the doors. With nimble steps they hurried across a field and around the back of Magillicuddy’s house.

Bobby handed Anna their bag of burglar’s supplies when they reached the back door, then leaned down to examine the lock. He turned to Anna and whispered, “These tinny little locks are a joke. I don’t know why people bother with them.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a pin, picked the lock in two seconds, and slowly pushed the door open.

All was quiet in the kitchen.

He nodded to Anna and whispered, “Let’s find the bedroom.”

Stealthily they crossed the dark room, turned left, and started down a hallway.

With startling speed, a German shepherd bolted out of a back room and raced toward them, barking furiously. Terrified, Bobby and Anna turned to flee. Anna reached the back door, pulled it open, and ran outside, but the ferocious dog leaped up on Bobby’s back, knocking him down. Bobby’s face hit the floor, and his loose cap went skidding under the kitchen table.

“Tiger, what’s the matter?” an elderly man’s voice called out.

The dog turned away from Bobby for just an instant, giving Bobby a chance to scramble to his feet and make his escape. As he scampered toward the car, he could hear the dog racing around the house, barking his head off.

Anna, already in the driver’s seat, was gripping the steering wheel tightly to steady her shaking hands. Bobby jumped inside, and they took off.

“Forget those rings!” he growled, licking the empty spot inside his mouth where Dr. Sharkey’s cap had been.

“I know, I know,” Anna said. “Listen, I was so scared, I almost dropped our bag inside the house. Thank God I didn’t.”

“Well, don’t rest too easy. My cap is somewhere on the kitchen floor!”

“Oh, no!” Anna cried.

“Oh, yes. We’ve got to get out of here on the first flight possible.”

Brian’s eyes flew open. He immediately sensed something was very wrong. With great dread he turned his head toward the illuminated clock radio on the night table. It was 5:01! They were due at Margaret’s house a minute ago! “Ohhhhhhhh!” he bellowed, flicking on the light.

Sheila stirred in her sleep. The dark eyebrow pencil that she had been too tired to wash off had smeared the pillowcase.

Brian shook her shoulder. “Sheila! Wake up!”

“Huh?”

“We overslept! This was not part of our game plan!”

Sheila’s eyes fluttered open. “I thought you set the alarm.”

“I did!” Brian leaned over and impatiently pushed the buttons on the black plastic clock radio. “Oh my God. I set it for 3:45 P.M!”

Sheila jumped out of bed. “We’ll get out of here in five minutes, but it’s at least a half-hour walk!”