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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Mystery · #1212223
Can a master thief pull off the biggest heist in time? Find out...
I am a thief.

A master thief, one of the very best thieves in the world. Jewels are my speciality; my abilities are in a class superior to other well-known thieves. I’m in a tropical place, just near the waterfalls, which is eight hundred miles from this hotel. Caribbean paradise. I am about to make an exchange, with my client. His name: Monsieur Randall Coeur. He’s in the same hotel with me, the one in his ‘Hawaiian’ shirt, white khaki shorts, nose-brimmed hat and flip-flops; the only odd thing that is out of place is his mustache. We made the exchange without any further delay.

“Do you have it?” he asked me, his accent irritated me to an extent that I wanted to get it over and done with. I got a velvet pouch, the royal purple pouch that I kept the jewels in, until now. The jewels shone like mirrors, the rays of light bouncing off them as they were bathed in the sunlight. He was shocked, but his face didn’t show any sign of emotion.

“Satisfactory?” I asked, a smirk plastered across my face. Satisfied, and he purred like a kitty.

“It seems, Mademoiselle Chat de Noir, I have underestimated you. Not only you have my blessing, but something to help you go to Russia to fund your next… heist,” he smiled as he gave me plane tickets… to Moscow, Russia, along with some money to spend and so on. My hard work: it paid off. In the dark, are we? Perhaps I should explain what happened a few weeks earlier…

*!*!*

As a master thief, I always travel from city to city, town to town, country to country. It’s never safe to reside yourself in the one place in one country, in case if the police can pin-point you somewhere and use you to drag you down like a savage dog. Commissioned to conduct a jewel heist, a team of experts at my own fingertips. It’s a very high commission from a prominent figure of the Underworld, and a very good position, if I pull off the heist. However, I didn’t have enough money to travel.

So, I met Monsieur Coeur when I was down on my luck. He was wearing a panama suit, some fancy-smancy term for business clothes for upper class people, and to many thieves… he was the God of Luck. The Godfather of Thieves. Or the more appropriate title… the King of Thieves. I sat there in an unknown café, and tried to figure out a scheme that involved robberies of small jewels, insignificant jewels…

“I see Mademoiselle Chat de Noir is down on her luck. Perhaps, if you are willing, you are able to do a job of no importance, n’cest pa?” the soft murmur in my ear made me turn around to see him, in all of his glory. He bowed, like most French gentlemen do, and cleared his throat clearly to explain further.

“I comprehend that you do not understand. Ecoutez, I want you to get me the head of Anne-Marie Antoinette,” he offered to me as I almost choked on my own saliva. Has he asked me to steal Anne-Marie Antoinette’s fabled jewel necklace, the diamond necklace that she never saw at all?! Has he gone mad?! I spluttered something incoherent in French, before I translated myself back into English.

“Are you trying to crucify me here?! Just because I got there before…” I began as he silenced me with one grand gesture of silence. I shut my mouth immediately and allowed him to continue. His mustache twitched a little before he began to speak to me, in his French-like manner. Passionate, emotional.

“No, it is not because of the revenge of the cold kind, nor your reputation. I know if I am beaten, and everyone knows no one is able to beat the King of Thieves. Many tried, and many, in the same proportion, failed. You boast your reputation of a master thief, and I… I, Monsieur Coeur, believe you. Not only you defeated me, you defeated me to a marvel. If you can defeat me, the King of Thieves, you are able to take the head of Antoinette. Do not have such pitiful faith in yourself,” he said as I bit my lips. To take or not to take? That is the question. If I triumph, the whole world of thieves would respect me. If not, I would pay a high price.

“Very well, Monsieur, I accept. But I have a high price,” I warned him as he nodded.

“I know what your heart desires, mademoiselle… bring the head of Antoinette, and I will give you your reward for her head,” he said softly before he disappeared right before my eyes. I knew that I was dicing with death: professionally…

*!*!*

The next week, in my reliable Schwinn bicycle throughout France, I went and researched where the fabled necklace was. It wasn’t that hard to find the maps and all, but the clues threw me off a little bit, it required a detective to decipher the clues. Da Vinci, eat your heart out… The Black Cat is on the case! I looked at the first map, examined all its tiny details and committed them to memory. The first clue was the clue about a tomb. I hope it doesn’t turn into a treasure hunt. I hate them…

*!*!*

The next clue wasn’t easy. That night, I went out to the tombstone, but something told me not to disturb the dead. I made sure I stayed on my bicycle, so that they couldn’t see the footprints that came along with it. The epitaph, written in French, stated clearly:

Here She Lies
The Traitor at Last
Her Body went West
And her Head went East

‘Her head went east?! What the hell?!’ my mind screamed as I endeavored to think. There were two pieces of jewelry that Queen Anne-Marie Antoinette had in her time:

Her Crown

AND

Her Necklace.

Monsieur Coeur wanted the necklace, but the direction? I tried to think. I thought about something east… perhaps east of France? I knew the east of France is…

Austria, that’s it! Antoinette’s place of birth! The head was most likely to be there… a trip to Vienna. I hoped that there was enough money to make the trip…

*!*!*

It wasn’t that hard to find where the necklace was kept, once my feet landed firmly in Austria. Antoinette’s head… closer in my hands. Very close indeed. Again, on my bicycle, I made my way to the birthplace of Antoinette… as a journalist who was researching the necklace of Antoinette. I befriended the man, eventually… he talked to me freely, his fears and worries left behind him.

“So, can I see the necklace?” I asked as the guide shook his head. I arched my eyebrows at him.

“Oh… why not?” I asked. He took a deep breath and talked about the security matter.

“Well, it’s protected by a very complex security system… I… I can’t talk to you about it,” he mumbled, his shy demeanor emitting through him. I gently encouraged him to continue. My luck held strong, as he was able to depart more information, thanks to my charismatic persona.

“Well, can you keep a secret? I…” he began, like a small child. I said gently to him:

“Yes, I can keep a secret. Tell me about the complex security system. It sounds very fancy indeed,” I informed him as he began to tell me about a unique type of encryption, not known to mankind. I took notes down, and enquired extensively about the security itself, as well as the location of the necklace. He was more than willing to tell, and as soon as he was done, I smiled from ear to ear.

“Thank you for your kindness, sir… I’ll keep you in touch,” I said softly as he nodded. He seemed to be much happier, like that… so much happier… it’s a pity that I had to break his happiness like that, but a job is a job… happiness only comes once in a blue moon...

*!*!*

The next week, I made my heist. There were eight layers to the encryption, but my forte is not in computers. However, I can get rid of the security guards that stood in my way. So, I dressed myself as a security guard, they kept tracking devices so that they know where each guard is placed. So, I was able to get in, and waited until the lights dimmed. Then, it was time for action. I saw a drinking vending machine, the ones that dispenses soda bottles and all. I made a smile to my temporary partner, and told him that I was getting a drink from the vending machines.

“Argh, go ahead, girl… it’s yours,” he said as I got two bottles of soda. I pulled the bottle top off, pocketed the bottle top and drank all of the soda inside. I casually gave him one the other, calmly.

“You need to be hydrated on the job. Here, take a soda,” I said as he drank the soda without hesitating. He wasn’t acutely aware that I drugged his soda… with a sleeping drug. The hypodermic needle did the trick. I used the same drug when I spiked all of the coffee pot, incidentally. However did I do that? That is one trick that I prefer not to inform.

So, I was able to get rid of the guards, sleeping soundly. The next step was to get the second bottle top and pocket it. I may need them later on. I took off my tracking device, and placed it at my position, not being able to be detected by the people upstairs. I breathed low as two people, the staff talked loudly about something.

“The head of Antoinette… you should’ve shown it to her! Why didn’t you? It’s just only the lower basement, just beneath her bedroom,” one yelled as the other yelled back.

“You know what the boss is like when he’s paranoid about these things! Especially when it comes to Antoinette’s head… and you know we moved the damn necklace elsewhere because of the repairs…” the other hissed as the first man snorted.

“What, just a few steps, next door? Ha! As if a thief would know where the damn thing is… after all, they can’t go through it, not even a black sock,” the first man snorted as I left the scene, a thought came through my head.

‘No wonder the clues were too easy! There must be two necklaces… but I think the location’s correct… somewhere around here…’ I thought silently as I looked at the portrait of the young Antoinette. She seemed to be happy, so gay…

‘Wait on… the riddle… I haven’t understood the whole riddle on the epitaph… What if…’ I thought as I went inside Antoinette’s bedroom, without any problems. There was young Antoinette, completed with her tiara and a diamond necklace, accompanied by angels and demons beside her both left and right. It was then, at that moment, I understood. The demons at the top, the angels at the bottom of her feet. The necklace was behind the portrait. I bit my lips and realized that I couldn’t leave my fingerprints all over the place.

So, surprisingly… I used a pair of black socks to open the portrait. It opened, and a safe was snuggled inside. Again, I used a black sock to press in the combination (That combination, I’m afraid, is also a secret) and found the head. The Head of Antoinette. A diamond drop in the middle of other large to medium to small diamonds, shaped perfectly into a pyramid, the symmetry was perfect. I didn’t have any more time to waste, so I took the diamond necklace and inserted it into one of my black socks.  I closed the safe, and shut the portrait tight. Then, I had another scheme. My royal purple pouch came in handy. So, what I did was to hide the real jewels, outside the house. I used my black sock (with the real diamonds) in the roof’s eaves.

Satisfied that the black sock will hold there, I was ready to make another steal. A fake steal. I closed the window and went down to the room next to the basement. There was another portrait, the same replica, except the angels and demons were in reverse, the angels on top, and the demons on the bottom. I pressed in the combination, again, and opened the safe. The other jewel necklace. I put the other necklace into the other pouch, as well as a tracking device in a bottle top. I sealed it carefully with gum, and made sure the tracking device was working.

Closing the vault and the portrait shut, I went out of the room, quickly, since the security guards might be awake by now. I went to the nearest window, and saw the road below. I threw the pouch into the nearest truck and it went away, as planned. The other guards, they didn’t know what happened.

“The thief went into that truck! Follow him!” I yelled as the other guards hurried below and grabbed their cars to follow it. Meanwhile, I went back to her bedroom… up and out. My agility… did the rest. I pocketed the diamond necklace from my black sock, and went back to my ‘car’ and made my escape. To the Caribbean.

*!*!*

That is how I pulled off the heist. They found the pouch with the fake necklace, and the tracking device. But they didn’t know how it got there, or who put it there. Pity they didn’t know who it was. They never suspected the real thing was stolen. I had the necklace evaluated, and it was worth more than one million pounds. It was the genuine article, and I proceeded, as a tourist, to the Caribbean where I met him, again. And that was that. The greatest heist… was heard around the world, and every thief respected and feared my name. The Black Cat… the greatest master thief in the world.
© Copyright 2007 Renegade_Angel (renegade_angel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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