coulda disabled the alarm easy.’
‘Maybe that was for show,’ Patch said. ‘Fake calling card. Like, “Hi, we’re regular burglars!”’
Tye agreed. ‘If it looked too much like an inside job, cops would start asking the staff questions.’
Patch gave a theatrical groan and leaned more heavily on Con, managing to nudge his head against her chest.
‘You’re not hurt so bad,’ Con told him, shoving him away. ‘But keep that up and you will be.’
‘OK, so they had some help.’ Motti stared down angrily at his smashed glasses. ‘But that don’t let us off the hook. We screwed up big. Coldhardt ain’t gonna be happy.’
‘Don’t write us off yet,’ said Tye, gritting her teeth. Jonah offered her his arm to lean on but she pulled away.
The distant grizzle of police sirens sounded. As one, the group quickened their step. The car wasn’t far away now.
‘Come on. Let’s pool what we know,’ said Tye. ‘Did you see that snake tattoo on the woman’s hand?’
‘Can’t see nothing without these.’ Motti dangled his crushed glasses in her face. ‘But jeez, man, fists of fury … That guy whupped my ass. Didn’t even have time to pull my blade.’
‘Like you’d really use it,’ Tye muttered.
‘I’ve told you, Motti,’ Con complained. ‘You should wear contacts!’
‘Don’t start telling me what I should –’
‘’Ere,
I
saw that bird’s tattoo,’ said Patch quickly, heading off the row. ‘What do you reckon, Tye – some kind of gang marking?’
She nodded. ‘Or a cult, maybe. Some kind of religious thing, from the look of that veil she wore.’
‘So we got us a religious broad and two bodyguards,’ said Motti.
‘If someone at the museum
was
helping them, we could maybe try and find out who tomorrow,’ Jonah suggested.
Motti looked at him like he was about to have a go. Then he just nodded, dabbed again at his leaking nose. ‘Good thinking.’
They’d reached the BMW. Tye fumbled in her pocket for the keys. ‘Jonah got the number of the car that picked them up, too,’ she remarked, crossing round to the driver’s side. ‘Probably stolen or false plates, but it might turn up something.’
‘If only they hadn’t got the lekythos,’ sighed Con.
Motti gave Patch a kick up the arse. ‘If only he hadn’t smashed it to bits.’
Jonah frowned, and Con mimed Patch picking out his eye and lobbing it like a grenade.
‘That bitch was gonna kill Tye!’ Patch complained. ‘I was aiming for her head, all right?’
‘And he saved my life,’ added Tye, smiling at him as she freed the keys. ‘Thanks for that.’ She hit the button on her key fob and the car unlocked, flashing its side lights.
‘Anyway,’ said Patch, reaching into his own trouser pocket. ‘At least we got to take
some
of the stupid thing away with us.’
He pulled out three large fragments of the funeral vase. A black, crumbly powder coated the pieces. Patch started brushing it away on to the filthy pavement, but Jonah stopped him. ‘I’m guessing that black stuff was inside the vase and not in your pockets?’
‘I just had these jeans washed last week,’ said Patch indignantly. ‘That stuff’s all over my eye, too. Should’ve cleaned it up better.’ He scratched the skin beneath his patch, grimacing. ‘It’s all gritty now.’
‘Would you quit with the eye stuff?’ Motti warned him.
Jonah took two of the pieces from Patch. ‘So was it the vase or the grit they were after?’
‘Got to be the vase, innit?’ Patch argued. ‘Who’d fight like that over some grit?’
‘Over two and a half thousand years, whatever was stored inside could have decomposed,’ Con reasoned. ‘This black stuff is all that’s left. We need to get it studied properly.’
Patch grinned. ‘So we didn’t come out with nothing but bruises after all.’
‘Maybe more than you think,’ Jonah realised as he held together the fragments like two pieces of a jigsaw. ‘That description of the lekythos on
‘Maybe that was for show,’ Patch said. ‘Fake calling card. Like, “Hi, we’re regular burglars!”’
Tye agreed. ‘If it looked too much like an inside job, cops would start asking the staff questions.’
Patch gave a theatrical groan and leaned more heavily on Con, managing to nudge his head against her chest.
‘You’re not hurt so bad,’ Con told him, shoving him away. ‘But keep that up and you will be.’
‘OK, so they had some help.’ Motti stared down angrily at his smashed glasses. ‘But that don’t let us off the hook. We screwed up big. Coldhardt ain’t gonna be happy.’
‘Don’t write us off yet,’ said Tye, gritting her teeth. Jonah offered her his arm to lean on but she pulled away.
The distant grizzle of police sirens sounded. As one, the group quickened their step. The car wasn’t far away now.
‘Come on. Let’s pool what we know,’ said Tye. ‘Did you see that snake tattoo on the woman’s hand?’
‘Can’t see nothing without these.’ Motti dangled his crushed glasses in her face. ‘But jeez, man, fists of fury … That guy whupped my ass. Didn’t even have time to pull my blade.’
‘Like you’d really use it,’ Tye muttered.
‘I’ve told you, Motti,’ Con complained. ‘You should wear contacts!’
‘Don’t start telling me what I should –’
‘’Ere,
I
saw that bird’s tattoo,’ said Patch quickly, heading off the row. ‘What do you reckon, Tye – some kind of gang marking?’
She nodded. ‘Or a cult, maybe. Some kind of religious thing, from the look of that veil she wore.’
‘So we got us a religious broad and two bodyguards,’ said Motti.
‘If someone at the museum
was
helping them, we could maybe try and find out who tomorrow,’ Jonah suggested.
Motti looked at him like he was about to have a go. Then he just nodded, dabbed again at his leaking nose. ‘Good thinking.’
They’d reached the BMW. Tye fumbled in her pocket for the keys. ‘Jonah got the number of the car that picked them up, too,’ she remarked, crossing round to the driver’s side. ‘Probably stolen or false plates, but it might turn up something.’
‘If only they hadn’t got the lekythos,’ sighed Con.
Motti gave Patch a kick up the arse. ‘If only he hadn’t smashed it to bits.’
Jonah frowned, and Con mimed Patch picking out his eye and lobbing it like a grenade.
‘That bitch was gonna kill Tye!’ Patch complained. ‘I was aiming for her head, all right?’
‘And he saved my life,’ added Tye, smiling at him as she freed the keys. ‘Thanks for that.’ She hit the button on her key fob and the car unlocked, flashing its side lights.
‘Anyway,’ said Patch, reaching into his own trouser pocket. ‘At least we got to take
some
of the stupid thing away with us.’
He pulled out three large fragments of the funeral vase. A black, crumbly powder coated the pieces. Patch started brushing it away on to the filthy pavement, but Jonah stopped him. ‘I’m guessing that black stuff was inside the vase and not in your pockets?’
‘I just had these jeans washed last week,’ said Patch indignantly. ‘That stuff’s all over my eye, too. Should’ve cleaned it up better.’ He scratched the skin beneath his patch, grimacing. ‘It’s all gritty now.’
‘Would you quit with the eye stuff?’ Motti warned him.
Jonah took two of the pieces from Patch. ‘So was it the vase or the grit they were after?’
‘Got to be the vase, innit?’ Patch argued. ‘Who’d fight like that over some grit?’
‘Over two and a half thousand years, whatever was stored inside could have decomposed,’ Con reasoned. ‘This black stuff is all that’s left. We need to get it studied properly.’
Patch grinned. ‘So we didn’t come out with nothing but bruises after all.’
‘Maybe more than you think,’ Jonah realised as he held together the fragments like two pieces of a jigsaw. ‘That description of the lekythos on
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