“Wow. That was easier than I thought,” said Castagere, shaking his head.
He kneeled beside the unconscious thieves, pushing Sid’s leg off the lid to the safe. Closing his eyes, he held his hand over the hi-tech locking mechanism, softly chanting in ancient Sanskrit. The digital readout began glowing, a brilliant, electric blue, as smoke wafted from the seams around the panel. As the tumblers slid into place, Castegere closed his hand over the handle and opened the safe.
Inside he found a red folder, thirty-thousand dollars wrapped in three bundles, a box of jewelry, and two compact discs. He stuffed the CD’s and the folder into his jacket then leaned over to Jack.
“Sorry, mate. I hate to set you two up like this, but I had to make this look like a robbery. You’ll be out in a few months, no problem,” said Castagere, patting him on the chest. The sirens could be heard approaching from the south. He had ninety seconds before the cops were in the room.
He stood, pulled two blank CD’s from his pocket, bent them gingerly just until they cracked and were unreadable, then tucked them into Jack’s inside pocket. He stuffed ten-thousand dollars into the back pocket of each man and the rest of the cash, along with the jewelry, into the pack they had waiting by the door.
Satisfied the scene was arranged well enough to fool the police, he walked over to the window, slid the lock open and cracked the window an inch - just enough to let some air into the room. He pulled the folder from his jacket, opened the cover and quickly flipped through the pages. The documents were there. This is exactly what he needed to end this nightmare. By morning, he would be rid of his nitwit master once and for all.
Tucking the folder back into his jacket one last time, Castagere vaporized again, floating out through the crack in the window.