Cory Dayell was expecting trouble and very soon; since the package, from her now deceased uncle and mentor, had arrived at her home in the morning. Marty Vellair, one of the last of the dying breed of gentlemen thieves. His exploits with bank frauds and stolen gold were legend. And as with all the greats some mysteries dogged him for life. More than one of these was regarding lost Japanese treasure.
Marty was already old when he accompanied a twelve year old Cory to Tokyo. He had enrolled her in a prestigious, exclusive and illegal- it did not exist on paper- school. She was to learn meditation and martial arts. He had rented a villa, a few kilometers away from the city where she used to go for a few days every month. Marty had taught her the nuances of color and balance, how to recognize fake gold and how to make passably good fake gold coins, how to check the purity of metals and ways to age sculptures using modern tools. These two years in Japan had changed Cory's outlook and capacities fundamentally.
It had been years since she had heard from Marty, he had retired to a plush and secure medical facility in Venice. The package contained a copy of Marty's Death Certificate and his will along with the keys to his cars and his home and his safety deposit box along with a slip of paper which said -Dear Cora, I leave them to your care. Go to the bank urgently and take care of them extra eyes.- Love, Marty.
Cory had no option but to visit the bank. She booked the earliest flight to Venice.
The bankers were expecting her and things went smoothly. The locker contained a bulky metal reinforced briefcase and Cory had to ask for it to be loaded into a taxi so she could take it with her. The taxi took off as soon as the briefcase was loaded, while Cory and a horrified assistant bank manager looked on. Police were called in and details and CCTV footage was examined. Cory advised the police to inquire with near by hospitals for acid burn victims since the criminals would try to bypass the locks with acid rather than try to force them open and risk damaging the rare pottery inside. A search was well underway by the time Cory got back to her hotel room at the Imperial Palace Hotel.
By morning two people with acid burns in their hands were picked up for questioning; they led the police to garage where the pieces of the now destroyed briefcase were found, but the rest of the gang had disappeared. The two men swore that the case had suddenly burned up and exploded, throwing acid droplets, some old coins and hot metal shards everywhere. Cory made it clear that she did not wish to pursue the investigation since whatever was in it was already destroyed.
Later in the day Cory visited the famous museums and ended the day with dinner at the exclusive club "Marchet's". After dinner she asked for the manager and on his arrival she showed him one of the keys Marty had sent her. On payment of $2300 of outstanding rental payments she was led to a room and a locked box was wheeled in. Cory used her key to open the box. It contained jade art pieces and gold coins probably 400 years old. Cory locked it again, estimating the worth to be several millions. She paid another $2000 advance rent for the safe keep of the box and left, smiling at Marty's last message, a multi million bequest-
An anagram - "care them"- words repeated twice in his letter ="Marchet" and a nondescript key marked "M-112"
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