SOMETHING DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT. Mickey sensed it as soon as they stepped through the front gates.

He had an inner feeling about these things.

The house was there in front of them. Spectacular, vast. Lit up like this great Italian palace. Pointed Venetian arches and windows with stone balconies. An arched loggia, ringed with bougainvillea, leading around to the sea. The driveway was probably a hundred yards long, every bush and tree perfectly lit. He heard the crunch of pebbles under their heels. They were in stolen police uniforms. Even if someone was around, no one would suspect a thing. Everything was just the way he was told it’d be.

And still he had this bad feeling in his gut.

He looked at Bobby and Barney. He could see they were nervous, too. He knew them well enough to know what they were thinking.

Never been so close to anything this grand.

Casa Del Océano. Ocean House.

Mickey knew everything about the place. He had studied it. Knew it was built by someone named Addison Mizner in 1923. He knew the interior layout, the alarms. How to get in, where the paintings were.

So why did he feel nervous? C’mon, he thought, to calm himself, there’s five million bucks inside.

“So what the hell is that?” Barney nudged him with the black satchel containing his tools. At the end of the long pebbled driveway, there was this huge, lit-up marble… bowl.

“Birdbath,” Mickey answered, and grinned.

“Birdbath?” Barney shrugged and adjusted the brim of his police cap. “More like a fucking pterodactyl!”

Mickey’s watch read 8:15. Dee had called in; Ned, as expected, had done his job. Cop cars were probably bouncing all over town right now. He knew there were cameras hidden in the trees, so they kept their faces hidden under their caps. In front of the oak doors, he took a last glance at Bobby and Barney. They were ready. They had waited a long time for this.