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Excerpt fromCamino Islandby John Grisham
Chapter One: The Heist
1.
In the previous calendar year, Ed had cleared and logged in 190 of these people through the library.
They came from all over the world and arrived wide-eyed and humbled, like pilgrims before a shrine.
In his thirty-four years at the same desk, Ed had processed all of them.
And, they were not going away.
F. Scott Fitzgerald continued to fascinate.
The traffic was as heavy now as it had been three decades earlier.
And he drank himself to death at forty-four!
What if hed lived into old age and kept writing?
Ed would need an assistant, maybe two, perhaps even an entire staff.
After a few days, Ed finally got around to dealing with Professor Manchin.
A quick review of the librarys register revealed that this was a new person, a new request.
Which was fine with Ed.
Not so with Manchin.
Ed went through the Portland State website and found his man.
He said he rarely checked his university address.
Ed thought, Thats because youre just a lowly adjunct professor and probably dont even have a real office.
Out of caution, the next day he sent a response through the Portland State server.
He thanked Professor Manchin for his letter and invited him to the Princeton campus.
There were many, and he suggested that Professor Manchin study them on the librarys website.
The reply was automatic and informed Ed that Manchin was out of pocket for a few days.
He and the imposter knew immediately that Ed had responded.
Ho hum, thought Ed.
The next day he sent the same message to Professor Manchins private Gmail address.
Great, said Ed.
Hed seen it all before.
The guy was trying to impress him before he even got there, which was not at all unusual.
On December 21, he died of a heart attack, brought on by years of severe alcoholism.
His five novels were handwritten on inexpensive paper that did not age well.
The library quickly realized that it would be unwise to allow researchers to physically handle them.
Over the years, they had been removed only a handful of times.
The man posing as Professor Neville Manchin arrived at Princeton on a beautiful fall day in early October.
It was, of course, a forgery, but a perfect one.
Breaching a bit of campus security was hardly a challenge.
Professor Manchin was then photographed and given a security badge that had to be displayed at all times.
Manchin noticed at least four surveillance cameras high in the corners, cameras that were supposed to be seen.
He suspected others were well hidden.
He attempted to chat up the assistant librarian but got little in return.
He jokingly asked if he could see the original manuscript forThis Sideof Paradise.
The assistant librarian offered a smug grin and said that would not be possible.
Have you ever seen the originals?
A pause as Manchin waited for more, then he asked, And what was the occasion?
Well, a certain famous scholar wished to see them.
We accompanied him down to the vault and gave him a look.
He didnt touch the papers, though.
Only our head librarian is allowed to do so, and only with special gloves.
Oh well, lets get to work.
He said, These contain the reviews of the book when it was first published.
We have many other samples of later reviews.
Perfect, Manchin said with a grin.
Half an hour later, with Manchin deep in his work, the assistant librarian excused himself and disappeared.
For the benefit of the cameras, Manchin never looked up.
Eventually, he needed to find the mens room and wandered away.
There were surveillance cameras everywhere.
He found an elevator, avoided it, and took the nearby stairs.
The first level below was similar to the ground floor.
Two security cameras watched the door and the area around it.
Manchin backed away and retraced his steps.
When he returned to his workroom, the assistant was waiting.
Is everything okay, Professor Manchin?
Just a bit of a stomach bug, Im afraid.
Hope its not contagious.
Several times he wandered off, poking around, looking, measuring, and memorizing.
Manchin returned three weeks later and he was no longer pretending to be a professor.
So far, Denny had not been caught and had no record; nor did Mark.
However, two of the others did.
Trey had two convictions and two escapes, his last the year before from a federal prison in Ohio.
It was there hed met Jerry, a petty art thief now on parole.
The setup was perfect.
There were only five manuscripts, all handwritten, all in one place.
And to Princeton they were priceless.
The fifth member of the team preferred to work at home.
He worked from his basement in Buffalo and had never been caught or arrested.
He left no trails.
His 5 percent would come off the top.
The other four would take the rest in equal shares.
Their fake student IDs had worked perfectly; not a single eyebrow had been raised.
Denny found his hiding place in a third-floor womens restroom.
He heard none, nor did Ahmed, who had easily hacked into the universitys security systems.
Mark proceeded to dismantle the fuel injectors of the librarys backup electrical generator.
The library closed at midnight.
The four team members, as well as Ahmed in his basement in Buffalo, were in radio contact.
Denny, the leader, announced at 12:15 that all was proceeding as planned.
He saw the same surveillance cameras he had seen the previous week.
He set a delayed starter and hid it behind the toilet.
As Trey left the building he heard the first wave of panicked voices.
Smoke was drifting from a second-floor window.
Soon, calls were pouring in as panic gripped the campus.
Every Princeton student, professor, administrator, and employee received a text and e-mail alert.
All doors were to be closed and locked.
All buildings were to be secured.
Jerry made another call to 911 and reported that two students had been shot.
Smoke boiled out of McCarren Hall.
Trey dropped three more smoke bombs into trash cans.
The first of many patrol cars from the New Jersey State Police arrived.
At 1:05, Trey radioed the gang: A perfect panic out here.
Denny replied, Cut the lights.
He waited and held his breath, then breathed easier when the backup generator did not engage.
There was an active gunman on the loose.
There was no time to worry about other alarms.
A marked patrol car made its rounds too, but it was primarily concerned with drunk students.
Smoke hung by the trees like a fog.
A helicopter could be heard hovering somewhere close.
Each wore night vision goggles and a miners lamp strapped to his forehead.
Calmly, he worked his way through the librarys alarm system and deactivated the doors four sensors.
There was a loud clicking noise.
Denny pressed down on the handle and pulled the door open.
Inside they found a narrow square of space with two more metal doors.
Using a flashlight, Mark scanned the ceiling and spotted a surveillance camera.
There, he said.
Denny looked at the two doors and said, Wanna flip a coin?
What do you see?
Ahmed asked from Buffalo.
Two metal doors, identical, Denny replied.
I got nothing here, fellas, Ahmed replied.
Theres nothing in the system beyond the first door.
From his duffel Jerry removed two eighteen-inch canisters, one filled with oxygen, the other with acetylene.
Within seconds, sparks were flying.
Sirens were screaming as more emergency vehi- cles responded.
Helicopters were thumping the air loudly above the campus, though Trey could not see them.
Around him, even the streetlights were out.
There was not another soul near the library.
All hands were needed elsewhere.
Alls quiet outside the library, he reported.
Were cutting now, came the terse reply from Mark.
All five members knew that chatter should be limited.
Minutes passed as molten metal dripped to the floor and red and yellow sparks flew from the door.
At one point Denny said, Its an inch thick.
He finished the top edge of the square and began cutting straight down.
Jerry and Mark crouched behind Denny, watching his every move.
Its a bolt, he said.
Five minutes later, the door swung open.
Ahmed, staring at his laptop, noticed nothing unusual from the librarys security system.
Nothing here, he said.
Denny, Mark, and Jerry entered the room and immediately filled it.
A narrow table, two feet wide at most, ran the length, about ten feet.
Four large wooden drawers covered one side; four on the other.
He shook his head and said, No surprise.
Combination locks, probably with computerized codes that change every day.
Theres no way to pick it.
We gotta drill.
Go for it, Denny said.
Start drilling and Ill cut the other door.
Jerry produced a three-quarter drive battery-powered drill with bracing bars on both sides.
He zeroed in on the lock and he and Mark applied as much pressure as possible.
The drill whined and slid off the brass, which at first seemed impenetrable.
When it gave way the drawer still would not open.
Mark managed to slide a thin pry bar into the gap above the lock and yanked down violently.
The wood frame split and the drawer opened.
Inside was an archival storage box with black metal edges, seventeen inches by twenty-two and three inches deep.
Careful, Jerry said as Mark opened the box and gently lifted a thin hardback volume.
Mark read slowly, The collected poems of Dolph McKenzie.
Just what I always wanted.
Dont know but we aint here for poetry.
Denny entered behind them and said, Okay, get on with it.
Seven more drawers in here.
Im almost inside the other room.
The frenzy across the campus showed no signs of dying down, but it wouldnt last forever.
The second and third drawers in the first room revealed more rare books by authors unknown to the gang.
This room, too, had eight large drawers, seemingly identical to the first room.
Police with bullhorns had ordered them back to their rooms, but there were too many to handle.
At least two news helicopters were hovering and complicating things.
He was watching CNN on his smart phone and the Princeton story wasthestory at the moment.
At least one gunman?
Doesnt every shoot- ing require at least one gunman?
The risk of fire would be high, and what good would the manuscripts be if they were damaged.
Instead, Denny pulled out a smaller one-quarter drive drill and began drilling.
Mark and Jerry bored away with the larger one.
At 2:30, CNN confirmed that two students were dead and at least two more were injured.
The word carnage was introduced.
The empty smoke bomb canisters were found in the restroom and the shower.
Treys abandoned backpack was opened by a demolition crew and the spent smoke bomb was removed.
The rest of McCarren was quickly secured and all students were accounted for.
The campus was still locked down and would remain so for hours as the nearby buildings were searched.
At 3:30, Trey reported, Things seem to be settling down out here.
Three hours in, fellas, hows the drilling?
Slow, came the one-word response from Denny.
Inside the vault, the work was indeed slow, but determined.
They finally struck gold in the fifth drawer when Denny removed an archival storage box identical to the others.
He carefully opened it.
A reference page inserted by the library read, Original Handwritten Manuscript of The Beautiful and DamnedF.
Bingo, Denny said calmly.
Inside were original manuscripts ofTenderIs the NightandThe Last Tycoon.
Trey asked, How much longer?
Twenty minutes, Denny said.
They were no longer ducking, covering, running, and dashing behind cars with loaded weap- ons.
The danger had clearly passed, though the area was still ablaze with flashing lights.
Van in place, he reported.
Were just opening the sixth drawer, Denny replied.
Its reference sheet read, Original Handwritten Manu- script of The Great GatsbyF.
Bingo, he said calmly.
We got Gatsby, that old son of a bitch.
Whoopee, Mark said, though their excitement was thoroughly contained.
Jerry lifted out the only other box in the drawer.
It was the manuscript forThis Side of Paradise,Fitzgeralds first novel, published in 1920.
We have all five, Denny said calmly.
Lets get outta here.
Denny and Mark carefully placed the five priceless manuscripts into their three student backpacks.
They jumped through the rear doors of the van and Trey pulled away from the ramp.
As he did so, he passed two campus security guards in a patrol car.
He flicked a casual wave; they did not respond.
Trey noted the time: 3:42 a.m.
He reported, All clear, leaving the campus now with Mr. Gatsby and friends.
7
The power outage triggered several alarms in the affected buildings.
Electricity was restored in all buildings except the library.
The chief of security sent three officers to the library.
It took them ten minutes to find the cause of the alarm.
By then, the gang had stopped at a cheap motel off Interstate 295 near Philadelphia.
Trey parked the van beside an 18-wheeler and away from the lone camera monitoring the parking lot.
In the bathroom, Jerry noticed the small cut on his left wrist.
He wiped it clean with a bath cloth and debated whether to mention it to the others.
Not now, maybe later.
They quietly removed all their stuff from the room, turned off the lights, and left.
There were no houses in the area.
The manuscripts were safely tucked between Trey and Mark on the rear seat of the pickup.
Near Bethlehem, they merged onto Interstate 78 and headed west.
Denny stayed well under the speed limit.
They had not seen a police car since leaving the Princeton campus.
No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
