The Pot Thief Who Studied Ptolemy [02] Read Online Free Page A

rays of the setting sun off the corn. At any rate, I believe the pots never found their way to San Roque.”
    “And I take it you have a theory about what happened to them.”
    “I do. And you are correct to call it a theory. I would not like you to give it any more credence than the word implies. I believe Ognan Gerstner stole them.”
    And that is why, three days later, I found myself downtown staring at Rio Grande Lofts.

 
    5
     
    What did I see? An eleven-story building with few means of ingress.
    Since it was originally built for offices, it had no balconies you could climb. The front door on the east side of the building opened to a lobby attended twenty-four hours a day by doormen. Two security cameras were visible through the plate glass, one pointed at the front door and one at the two elevators.
    A service entrance on the west side of the building was secured by a lock that could be opened only from inside. I determined that by walking up to the door and noticing there were no knobs or keyholes in it.
    On the south side of the building, a ramp led down to a basement parking garage. The opening at the bottom of the ramp was somewhat larger than the average garage door, maybe ten feet wide and eight feet tall, and was protected by a gate that came within an inch or two of the concrete on the bottom, top, and two sides. A snake might slip between the gate and the surrounding concrete while the gate was closed, but a jackrabbit couldn’t.
    The gate was constructed of vertical iron bars six inches apart. I determined that by walking up to the gate and measuring. A small jackrabbit might fit through. I could not see any security cameras. A metal column near the left wall held a keypad. Residents entered by punching in a code and waiting for the gate to slide open.
    Twenty feet to the left of the garage entrance was a garage exit. It had the same sort of gate, except there was no keypad. The exit gate opened automatically when a car approached it from inside the garage.
    I assumed there was a door on the roof, so I decided to start my analysis at the top of the building.
    But first I walked down the street to a drugstore and purchased a magazine. I can’t remember the last time I bought a magazine, and I was surprised by how expensive they’ve become. It wasn’t that long ago when a national magazine like Time or Life was available for a dollar. Some of the ones on the rack were as high as eight-fifty! Since I had no plans to read the magazine, I selected the one with the lowest price. It was called Chrome Hogs and sold for $2.95.
    I took the magazine back to a bus stop bench across from the garage entrance where I pretended to read it while examining the building and thinking about how I might gain entrance.
    At least that’s what I started to do. But when I removed the plastic wrapper and opened the magazine, I discovered it was full of exotic motorcycles adorned by even more exotic women in various states of undress. I don’t know what pornography is, but – like Justice Potter Stewart – I know it when I see it.
    And this was not it. There is nothing prurient about a woman leaning over a Harley and wearing a tank top that reveals tattoos on her breasts of little spigots that say “chocolate” on the left and “vanilla” on the right. But it did divert my attention momentarily before I returned to the issue at hand.
    Namely, how could I get in? Through the roof entrance? There was no exterior staircase or fire escape. Of course I could reach the roof via the interior staircase, but I would already have to be inside to do that, wouldn’t I? Renting a helicopter didn’t merit much consideration. No tall buildings loomed next to Rio Grande Lofts, so I couldn’t leap across from one roof to the other or secure a rope between them or anything of that sort. Even if those things had been possible, I wouldn’t have attempted them. I’m severely acrophobic.
    I was checking the roof entrance off the list of