Chapter 388

When I got to the third floor, I knocked on Drio's door, but there was still no answer. I crouched down to examine his lock. Fucker. He had the Abloy Protec2 Deadbolt, a disc detainer lock that was impossible to pick. Even if I had a drill on me, the face of the deadbolt was made of a hardened steel that would chew up a dozen of the most expensive drill bits and still not allow access.

There were six other apartments on this floor, all of which featured standard deadbolts that I could pick in my sleep. I slipped my heels off, cramming them into my messenger bag, then I placed the bag and my rolled-up trench coat deep into a large, decorative vase with a fake tree that stood in a corner of the landing.

According to the photos that I'd sourced late last night, Drio had a single window on the side of the building, probably his bathroom. That would be my access point.