The sound of music can be heard through the thin walls, some classical piece that Heine doesn't register beyond background noise. He shrugs, looking around slowly and finding nothing in the back rooms of the building.

"Don't know. They don't even have any real security. Everything's probably just insured," he mumbles, and comes to a stop at the door to the front room. He sets a gloved hand on the doorknob. The diamonds are under the front desk, and the only staff is the elderly owner and his part-time working daughter. Whether there are customers or not is barely a concern.

"Let's get this over with." Heine's already abysmal attention span is waning, and he opens the door with a smooth motion and steps inside. He's probably depending on her to do most of the talking, though.