the smuggler’s bible

Geraud

The long, greenhouse-style windows on the roof haven’t been opened in years. Perhaps nobody even knows they open and that’s why they aren’t locked.

A few taps with the butt of the flashlight to knock some rust from the latch, then Geraud twists with a firm, even pressure. The mechanism resists for a moment, but only as a formality.

Geraud grins. An old friend used to say a jewel is only as valuable as the case it’s kept in. Total nonsense, of course, but it sounds fine and why don’t you try coming up with an original aphorism these days?