The Girl Thief

by Robert E Cummings

  “One lick might do it.”

  “One lick?”

  Tatiana rubbed the rim of the glass against her lips. “We can start with one lick and work our way up from there.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Sammy whispered to Cindy.

  “What about the ride?”

  “We’ll walk.”

  “Do you know how far it is?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Cindy approached Golden Boy. “About that ride?”

  Tatiana pulled her legs in and sprang up like a giant insect on the attack. She sauntered over and handed Sammy a phone from her pocket. It was one of those expensive ones.

  “What do you want me to do with this?”

  “We can get a ride with that, Sam.”

  “You really are a young hatchling,” Tatiana said, running her finger under Sammy’s chin. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  Sammy handed the phone to Cindy. “Call for the ride and let’s get out of here.”

  “Keep it.”

  Cindy looked up. “Really?”

  “The little bird’s not ready to fly yet.”

  Sammy grabbed Cindy’s hand and pulled her out of the place. Tatiana said something, but Sammy kept going.

  “You know how expensive this phone is?” Cindy asked, flipping through the phone screens. “There’s a lot of rides on this thing. You just met them tonight?”

  “It seems like days.”

  “I never get that lucky.”

  Sammy looked back. “Feel more like cursed.”

  “What’s with the ‘little bird’ name?”

  “She’s a kook. They’re both kooks.”

  Cindy tapped on the screen. “Where’s Igor?”

  “He went in the back. You think he’s still here?”

  “If he is, we better find him before we call for a ride.”

  Sammy wandered into the back and called out to him. A sidelight cast a shadow on a figure sitting against the building. He uttered a low moan and stirred.

  “Is that you, Igor?”

  “I would not swear to it,” Igor said. “When everything stops spinning, I will know.”

  “You’re drunk?”

  “I will never call you stupid girl again.”

  “You’re supposed to get them drunk.”

  “I am Russian,” he said, raising his finger for emphasis. Then he slumped down. “Maybe I am not Russian. A real Russian would hold whodka better.”

  “You’re Russian enough,” Sammy said, pulling on his arm. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  Igor stood, holding onto the building to steady himself. “World is still spinning.”

  Sammy let him rest on her shoulder. “Yeah, you’re getting a window seat.”

  Cindy met them at the corner of the building. “Did somebody beat him up?”

  “Self-inflicted,” Sammy said, pulling him from slouching over. “Did you call?”

  Cindy nodded. “It’ll be here in a minute and forty-three seconds.”

  “Good because if it was a minute and forty-five, I might have to drop him.”

  “Want me to get on the other side of him?”

  “The farther you stay away, the safer you’ll be.”

  Tatiana waltzed out, holding the wig by the hair as if it were a severed head. “Forgot something, little bird.”

  Igor leered at her. “Who is that?”

  Sammy groaned as Igor put more weight on her. “Tatiana.”

  “That is Russian name. She is Russian?”

  Tatiana dropped the wig on the top of Sammy’s head and patted it down. “Hope you don’t choke on it.”

  “Are you Russian?” Igor asked.

  She turned back, looking as if she’d just noticed him. “Only if you’re chasing.”

  “What did she say?” Igor asked, gazing from Cindy to Sammy. “I don’t understand.”

  The transporter came and Sammy shoved Igor against the opened window, making sure he was leaning out. The wig dropped onto her lap as Cindy closed the door. Sammy turned back to see where Tatiana was. She was gone.

  Chapter Twenty

  _____________________________

  Sammy sat across the table from Jonathan at the Pleasure Palace. Beside her was Igor, telling him about the computer that had all the recipes.

  Jonathan leaned back. “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “I spoke to guy who knows him best. He said he is always on computer when mixing batch.”

  Jonathan turned to Sammy. “So you know what you have to take?”

  “Yeah, a computer that sandwich boy thinks has this recipe.”

  Igor spun around. “What is this ‘sandwich boy’? He does more than deliver meals. He helps him.”

  “With what? Emptying his trash bins?”

  “No, with calibrations.”

  “Even if this computer has everything he needs, I don’t like the setup.”

  “Setup is easy,” Igor said. “You drop down vent, take computer, and go up vent.”

  “I couldn’t get into where they make the pills, so I don’t know what kind of alarms or locks he has. I’d be going in blind.”

  “Door has lock. You pick lock. Simple.”

  “You said he sleeps in there, so maybe it’s bolted from the inside.”

  Igor shook his head. “I’m sure it is not that way.”

  Johnny huffed. “Is this where you start to ask for more money?”

  “I’m not asking for anything, Johnny. I don’t want to risk my neck to get a stupid computer when I only have the word of the sandwich boy.”

  “You call him that because he is Russian,” Igor said.

  “He sounds like some gopher who spins tales.”

  “I am an engineer. I know what tale is.”

  “You weren’t exactly sober.”

  “You know everything. Where is recipe if not on computer?”

  Sammy shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Could be stitched to his underwear for all I know.”

  “If you did not want to do this, you should not have wasted Johnny’s money and time.”

  “What about my time? Now all he has to do is pay his cookie-selling Girl Scout to swipe this computer.”

  Igor shook his head. “Sorry, Johnny, I thought she was good thief.”

  “A good thief wouldn’t even consider this heist. I only did it because of Cindy.”

  “You lose nerve?”

  “I didn’t lose anything.”

  “Maybe you have big heist planned that will solve all problems?”

  Sammy turned away. “Screw you.”

  “Maybe you have big idea for big heist but lose nerve. What then?”

  “It’s my idea, not some stupid recipe heist.”

  “You want guarantee? Tell me something that is guaranteed.”

  Johnny rested his elbows on the table. “I don’t know what you think of me, and I don’t care, but I don’t have a list of thieves on my contact list. Sure, I know people who know people who could put me in contact with a thief. That gets messy, and I don’t need messy right now.”

  “I told her you’re an honest businessman.”

  Johnny leaned back. “I don’t do everything aboveboard.”

  Igor nodded. “Who does, Johnny?”

  “But I’ve never stolen from a competitor,” Johnny said, stabbing the air with his finger. “If they get a hot new dancer, I tip my hat to them. If their service is better, then I have to up my game. This is different; this is a totally different game now.”

  “It’s your problem, not mine,” Sammy said.

  “You said you did this for Cindy,” Igor said. “Isn’t it her problem?”

  “She’ll get another job.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Anything’s better than a skin joint.”

  “Yes, she can help with big plans for heist.”

  Sammy rolled her eyes.

  “I get it,” Johnny said. “You want things easy. Who do
esn’t?”

  “But we know nothing is easy, Johnny,” Igor said. “You don’t pay five thousand dollars for easy.”

  Johnny stared down into the cup of coffee like it had a message for him. “You know, it might be easier to steal this computer while they’re opened.”

  Sammy studied him, looking for signs he was joking. “How’s that easier?”

  “You don’t have to deal with locked doors and alarms.”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell them as I’m climbing out of the vent, ‘Don’t mind me. I’m just here to steal the computer.’”

  “I used to work there back in the day when it was a restaurant, and they had a closet where a wide vent emptied into. From what you said, it sounds like they still have the same system.”

  Sammy remembered the duct branching off from the office. It didn’t look like it went far.

  “That is brilliant, Johnny. She can drop in closet without anyone seeing her.”

  “I still have to come out of the closet without anyone seeing me.”

  “Mondays are quieter,” Johnny said. “Your chances are better on Monday.”

  “You dress up with phony tits and makeup, they will think you work there,” Igor said, nodding to Johnny who looked dubious. “Makeup and dress make big difference.”

  She could wait in the duct for the guy to leave for a bathroom break or whatever, then drop into the closet, dash over to the office, and swipe the computer. She’d need a diversion for it to work, though. In the midst of the chaos, she’d just walk out the door and run for the exits like everyone else.

  Johnny sat back in his chair, eyeing her. “You have a couple of days till Monday to think it over or plan it or whatever. If I don’t have it by Tuesday, I’ll make other arrangements.”

  “She will do it,” Igor said. “Tell him you’ll do it.”

  It’d have to be a good diversion, something where everybody had to scramble. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Tuesday,” Johnny said, spinning out of his chair and walking away.

  “What is there to think about? He made it easy. It is five thousand dollars. Where else are you going to get that much?”

  Sammy got up from the table. “My big heist, of course.”

  “Don’t be stupid girl,” Igor said, following her. “Tell Johnny you going to do it.”

  “I’ve got till Tuesday.”

  ●●●

  Sammy walked along the side of Gladys’s house and spotted a shadowy figure through the basement window’s curtains. It had to be Mark. She crept around to the front and opened the door. Justin sat with his back on the seat of a stuffed chair and his feet propped up against the chair’s back. Jenna stood behind him and pushed Justin’s legs forward. Justin somersaulted off the chair.

  Sammy smiled. If she hadn’t already know Gladys had left, that would have confirmed it. “Guys.”

  “Sammy,” Justin said, scrambling up off the floor. Jenna followed.

  Sammy put her finger to her lips. “Quiet.” She looked back for Mark, then waved them out.

  “Momma Gladys is playing bingo,” Justin said.

  Sammy nodded. “Come on.”

  Justin giggled with excitement.

  “Where we going, Sammy?” Jenna asked.

  Sammy waved them to follow. “Show you something.”

  They hiked up two blocks from the house to the only apartment building in the neighborhood. Sammy stopped by the side of the building and pulled a tube from her jacket pocket. “Fireworks.”

  The twins’ eyes opened wide with wonder.

  “Stand back,” Sammy said, placing the tube in the middle of the walk. She lit the fuse.

  A red ball fired into the air, toppling the tube. Sammy lifted up Jenna just as the blue ball fired. She giggled as the ball sailed between Sammy’s legs. The tube spun toward Justin.

  “Jump, Justin,” Sammy shouted.

  A white ball ricocheted off his toe as he leaped. It floated up and onto the street, winking out as it tumbled.

  A blue ball fired next against the side of the building. It bounced up and over them like a shooting star. She lit the last tube, and they danced and giggled, dodging another round of glowing, colored balls.

  Sammy drove the stick of the first rocket into a patch of dirt off the walk and lit the fuse. The rocket soared, exploding into a starburst pattern.

  Jenna stared up at the night sky. “That’s pretty.”

  “I like the glowing balls better,” Justin said. “Got any more of those, Sammy?”

  Sammy planted the stick into the dirt. “All out of those, sweetie. Last rocket, hope it’s a good one.” She lit the fuse and stepped back. The rocket teetered over and lay flat. It took off down the street, skipping off the sidewalk, then sailed up, clipped a tree branch, and exploded, lighting up the block.

  Sammy grabbed their arms. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You see that?” Justin asked, jumping to see the glowing embers drift to the ground.

  That was just the thing to get Mark up and out of the basement. “We’ll go around the block.”

  Jenna looped her arm around Sammy’s back. “I’m glad you came, Sammy.”

  Sammy kissed her head.

  Justin skipped ahead. “That was fun.”

  Sammy dug her hand into her coat pocket, remembering she had to get her stash of bearings. She pulled out one of the red balls. “I think we’ve seen enough explosions for one night.”

  Jenna took it from her. “It looks like a smoker.”

  “Smoker?”

  “A kid threw one in the schoolyard, and everybody dashed, but it just smoked. The whole yard was filled with smoke.”

  Sammy took it back. “Thought it was a dud.” Why would anyone want to see a lot of smoke? “That’s it, smoke,” Sammy said, kissing Jenna on the head. “Gave me an idea, sweetie.”

  They trod up to the house from the other side. Two women stood at the corner of the next block, talking. Sammy had seen them before but didn’t know them well. There was no sign of Mark. She and Justin and Jenna hugged, and she told them to scoot upstairs.

  Sammy walked to the back of the house, checking the basement windows for Mark. She didn’t see him, but he could be lying down. That was as far as she wanted to think about him.

  The shed was about ten feet behind the house. The stash was in a hole under a planter by the side door. It was in a gray muslin bag, down to about half her original haul. She’d found it in an abandoned factory in the zone. The shed door was locked. It was never locked. She felt for her picks.

  Mark stepped out from the side of the shed, swinging the muslin bag. “Looking for these?”

  Sammy jumped. “Geez, you scared the shit out of me!”

  “I knew you’d come back for these. Heard a big bang up the block when I was looking for the little brats. Put two and two together—”

  “And you came up with three?”

  “Had to be the little bitch stirring up trouble as usual.”

  “How’d you find it? Your blowup doll ran away?”

  Mark swung the bag harder. “Got some heft. Must hurt like hell getting hit with this thing.”

  Was he really going to hit her with it? “Give it to me, Mark.”

  He stepped closer. “Payback’s a bitch, bitch.”

  “You think you deserve payback?”

  “Sorry, officer, I didn’t know she was the runaway. I thought she was a thief.” He laughed.

  Sammy backed away.

  He reached out and swung the bag at her. Sammy jumped back. “Don’t you want your pellets back? The same ones you threw at my mother, you little cunt.”

  Sammy glared at him. “Mark, give it to me!”

  “Here it is.” He windmilled the bearings.

  Sammy jumped back against the fence just out of reach of the swing. She glanced back. Could she get over the fence before he plastered her head?

  He laughed. “Thought you wanted it?”

  “Mark!”

  “Nowh
ere to go, bitch,” he said, swinging the bag at her.

  Sammy rolled off the fence, spun around, and kicked Mark in the back of the knee. His knee buckled, sending him face-first into the fence, and he bounced off and tumbled back. She stepped on his hand hard enough to get his attention.

  “Get off my hand,” Mark said, trying to slip free.

  Sammy leaned in a little. “Sorry, officer, I didn’t mean to break his hand. Thought he was some creep coming after me.”

  “Cunt!”

  She held out her hand. “Give me the bag.” She put more weight on his hand until he offered her the bag.

  She snatched it and took her foot off his hand.

  Mark grabbed the cuff of her trousers and pulled her down. He scrambled to get on top of her.

  Sammy kneed him between the legs and swung the bag at his head, but he pulled his head back, making it more of a glancing blow. He tumbled onto his side, looking dazed.

  Sammy stood, brushing the dirt off her trousers. “You really are a dick, Mark.” She marched out of the yard with her bag of bearings.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  _____________________________

  Sammy stuffed the kooks’ phone into her dress pocket. She’d crammed her jacket into an oversized handbag since it didn’t go with the dress.

  It should be simple: light the smokers and when everybody runs for the exits, grab the computer and walk out. Simple usually got complicated, though. Johnny could be wrong about the vent emptying into the closet, or the smokers might fizzle out. Also, Tatiana could’ve told security, and now they were expecting her.

  Sammy pulled down the transporter’s mirror. Nothing smudged. She had a long black wig this time and a different dress, one that she wouldn’t have to strip out of to climb through the vents.

  The transporter pulled up in front of the place. She waited for the big screen on the side of the building to flash “Xanadu” before she stepped out. It still looked like one of those stupid restaurants. The sun just set, so it wasn’t quite dark yet. She hoped the early start would give her an edge. Sammy shadowed a couple of guys. Both had slicked-back dark hair, mustaches that never quite came in, and front teeth that were pushed forward, reminding her of some of the rats she’d seen scurrying around the apartment building.