“Somebody opened it,” Guido said pointedly. That took some of the wind out of Aahz’s sails.
Despite himself, he shot a nervous glance at the door. “Well… a good thief with a lock pick working from this side….”
“Some of these locks weren’t picked, Aahz.”
I had been taking advantage of their discussion to do a little snooping, and now held up one of my discoveries for their inspection. It was a padlock with the metal shackle snapped off. There were several of them scattered about, as if someone had gotten impatient with the lock pick and simply torn the rest of them apart with his hands.
Guido pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “Man, that’s strong. What kind of person could do that?”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to get you to tell us,” Aahz said nastily. “Now, if you don’t mind, what were those customers like?”
“Three of them . . . two men and a woman . . . fairly young-looking, but nothing special. Klahds by the look of ’em. Come to think of it, they did seem a bit nervous, but I thought it was just because they were coming to see a magician.”
“Well, now they’re on the other side of the door.” Aahz scooped up one of the undamaged locks and snapped it into place. “I don’t think they can pick locks, or break them if they can’t reach ’em. They’re there, which is their problem, self-inflicted I might add, and we’re here. End of puzzle. End of problem.”
“Do you really think so, Aahz?”
“Trust me.”
Somehow that phrase struck a familiar chord in my memory, and the echoes weren’t pleasant. I was about to raise this point with Aahz when Nunzio poked his head in the door.