Postcard Mysteries
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With the air of a man inviting a woman to dance, he waltzed around the safe. Gently he ran his fingers over the surface of the safe and around the combination dial. Satisfied, he pulled out a tiny metal tape measure. Using the upper right-hand corner as a point of reference, systematically, he began to make measurements, double-checking each one before marking its location with a piece of soap. The noise of his drill seemed unnaturally loud in the empty store. The only indication of the delicacy of the work was the perspiration that appeared on his forehead. While he worked, the other man sat as still as a statue in a chair just outside the caged room. Only his eyes glittered with excitement. Neither said a word.  

Laying the drill down after the final hole, the crack-man whispered, “All right. Hand me the soup.”
The dapper man came forward and gently handed him the vial of nitroglycerin. He watched intently as the safe-cracker inserted the explosive in the holes. When he had completed the task, both men retreated a safe distance. After taking one last look around, they triggered the explosive. 

A muffled boom shook the empty glass display cases. The glass fobs of the chandeliers tinkled. The mirrors tricking the light beam alarm shook, but did not falter. Both men held their breath, but no sound could be heard, inside or outside of the building. The dapper man smiled tightly, as if controlling his glee. He swung open the safe and peered inside.

The Zephyr                                                                                                               Prologue   Pg 2