Arie interjects, stepping forward. “You told me you want to help.” There’s a restrained clip to his voice, an aversion to the topic, a lingering of resentment.

Brouwer can sense it. The guilt rides the creases of his face, the timbre of his reply. “I’d drive the truck for you myself, without question. I have clients scattered about and therefore travel papers for deliveries.” He gestures toward the maps thumbtacked to the walls, red and blue lines suggesting routes. “But a crate concealment, I can say with confidence, regretfully is doomed to fail.”

I try my best to be polite. “Sir, boxes with false bottoms are long proven to hide things, including people.”

“Indeed. As the occupiers have well discovered,” he adds gently. “I assure you, they have become exceptionally shrewd at comparing the inner and outer depths of containers, for that very reason.”

My spirits sink, but only a degree. If my time with Hutton has taught me anything, it’s the benefits of collaborating and of not giving up. “In that case, we’ll have to craft something they haven’t thought of. We’ll put our minds together, for Evelien’s sake.” I look for agreement from Arie, who appears torn. Under the circumstances, we’re far from his ideal team. I’d wager it doesn’t help that an adequate design would result in tremendous dependence on Brouwer, including his discretion.

After a moment, Arie murmurs as if coaxing himself, “More than one solution to any problem…” The reference stems from our magic days, a callback to a time of our friendship, of trust. The memory equally warms and stings me as he exhales and turns to Brouwer.

“Got pencil and paper?”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” the fellow says, his energy gathering. “Please have a seat while I lock the door.” His face lightens with optimism, determination. An opportunity for redemption.

Perhaps for us both.

Chapter 68

The best illusions, remarkably, are rarely complex in design. They merely combine the three principles of magic: disguise, simulation, and distraction. Pulling off the escape we’ve devised will require a seamless balance of all three.

After a hefty bout of our strategizing, Arie rises from his chair, clutching his hat, itching to wrap up. He peeks past the blinds to see down into the warehouse, a safety measure, as Brouwer and I review the final sketch while seated at the desk.

Rooted in concepts from the Goblet Escape and even the classic sawing-a-lady-in-half, our plan will have Arie and Evelien fitting into a space that appears too small to hold a person, let alone two. The result will capitalize on presumptions, much like escape aids buried in boots and records. Shaving kits. Monopoly boards.