Tokyo Heist by Diana Renn

from the gallery when my dad and I were leaving. I don’t think it’s a coincidence we got them on film today. Let’s go back to the beginning.”
    We review all the footage. This time, I keep an eye out for the men. Sure enough, a green Prius drives down Pine Street as Skye heads to the Market. It passes Skye slowly, then parks on Pine. Two men in blue raincoats get out. In the Market, I glimpse the men again as Skye goes to buy her sandwich; they’re at a booth of Native American tribal art, inspecting a mask of a raven. Then we forward to the museum. The men show up again in the museum lobby. There we can see them more clearly as they linger by the escalator. The tall, stocky man has ears that stick out, and it looks like his nose has been broken. The short, thin guy has an angry rash on his cheeks, either a flaming case of acne or scars from God knows what.
    “You think they were following us?” Edge asks.
    “No. I think they were following Skye. Hey, what’s weird about the short guy’s hand?”
    Edge hits some buttons on the keyboard and zooms in close. I clap my hands to my mouth. Now we can see that the shorter man, holding a coffee cup, is missing most of his pinky finger on his left hand. Only a stub remains. I get chills.
    As Skye heads out of the museum, the men follow. But outside the door they go left when she goes right, veering toward the Hammering Man sculpture and disappearing by the sculpture’s enormous iron foot. They do not appear again.
    Edge drums his fingers on the desk. “This is big, V. Really big.”
    “Seriously, right? We have evidence on film that these guys were following Skye. Oh my God. Remember I said someone broke a window at my dad’s house yesterday?”
    “Yeah. You think those guys did it?”
    “No. I think Skye did.”
    “How could she get to Fremont so fast and break a window?”
    “We stopped to get gas. She might have had just enough time.”
    “But why would she try to break into his house? Why not just walk in?”
    “Because my dad never gave her a key. He has commitment issues. Edge.” I clutch his arm. “Listen. I think that Skye had hidden the stolen van Gogh drawings in my dad’s house. For safekeeping. Then, when they broke up, she hurried over there to retrieve them.”
    “Wait, you really think your dad could have unknowingly had van Goghs in his house?”
    “The place looks like an art supply store exploded. I bet he doesn’t know what he has. It’s the perfect hiding place for art.”
    Edge nods. “So maybe these guys in the Prius are undercover policemen, trying to get enough evidence to arrest Skye.”
    “They don’t look like policemen to me. Especially the guy with the missing finger.”
    “What kind of villains wear REI gear and drive an eco-friendly hybrid car?”
    “I don’t know. But I think they knew Skye had cleaned Kenji’s van Gogh drawings. I bet they knew or suspected that she stole the art, and now they want to steal it from her. That’s why they were hanging around outside the art reception last night: because they were tailing her.”
    “If they had their suspicions, why wouldn’t they intercept her and grab the portfolio when she was walking around with it today?”
    “Broad daylight. Too obvious.”
    Edge nods. “Okay. But last night, if they followed Skye to your dad’s reception, why didn’t they just demand the drawings then? Or later, when she broke into your dad’s house?”
    “Maybe she was never alone long enough. And that big fight with my dad could have thrown them. Maybe she went over there so fast they couldn’t catch up.”
    Edge replays the final image of the two men on the screen as they turn toward Hammering Man , leaving the frame. “Why would they follow her all the way to the museum and then stop?”
    “Because she left the portfolio there,” I say. “Maybe she met someone and handed it over, either in an exhibit somewhere or in an office.”
    “We have to find out who Skye left them