Chapter Twenty
The day we finally been waiting for was here. Today was the day that we would steal the Beggar Boy painting. The girls and I got up early and had room service bring us up a nice and healthy breakfast. As we ate, I could sense the other girl’s nervousness. They kept shooting nervous glances over at me. I ignored them and continued to spread jam on my toast. From the outside, I had a calm façade. But on the inside, I was doing all I could to keep my hand from shaking and dropping the knife I was holding. I was nervous. I was very damn nervous. I just knew that I couldn’t show them. It was clear that they had already chosen me as their leader, and as their leader, I couldn’t show weakness. Showing weakness would cause them to panic, and then the heist would never see light.
After breakfast we dressed and headed out to the museum to do some more surveillance. Taylor claimed she needed to go to city hall, so she and Kerry separated from us promising to meet us later. I had no clue what Taylor needed from city hall, but I knew it was something that would pertain to the mission. Yuri and I made it to the museum back in the disguises we wore last night. The news teams had already arrived, trying to get in day shots of the museum for the big event. They were all setting up near the pyramid which would make it harder trying to escape their attention. I just hoped that the Queen invited them to broadcast from the inside, leaving us a clean escape without witnesses.
Getting back to the hotel, we entered our room as Yuri went to book our flight for after the heist. Taylor and Kerry still hadn’t gotten back yet. I call them, but their phone went to voicemail. Hanging up from them, I dialed Micah’s number and got his voicemail as well. Filled with frustration, I plopped down on the sofa, and turned on the television to watch the live broadcast coming from the museum.
“The flight is book.” Yuri said plopping down next to me. “I got us a ticket from Paris to California. I figured we can just stay at your house until break is over. With James and your mother away, we won’t have to worry about anyone finding us there.”
“Sounds good.”
“Can you believe this is happening? I mean this is really about to happen.”
I smiled over at Yuri. She could barely contain herself in her seat. It seems like the adrenaline she use to get during our robberies has made its way back to her. I just hope mine hurried up and made its appearance. These nerves were wreaking havoc on my stomach. The door to the room beep as it swung open. Taylor and Kerry entered the room carrying a rolled piece of paper.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Blueprints for the museum. I’m going to scan copies to my phone. I thought these would be useful just in case things go wrong.”
“Good thinking.”
The day began to disappear and before we knew it, we were getting ready for the heist. The girls and I decided to go with a simple hair style that wouldn’t take away from our dresses, or get in the way during the heist. We slid our body suits underneath our dress, rolling up the end of our pants leg. We filled our totes with different items such as, pepper spray that was hidden in a tube of lipstick, a stun gun in the shape of a mirror, and another tube of lipstick that was actually a flashlight. The last item Taylor handed us, was a small handgun that was covered by a plastic that would protect it from being caught by the metal detector. We all gave Taylor a look that she simply just shrugged off. “Better safe than sorry” she said before handing us our passports that would go into the inside compartment of our purse.
We gave the room a cleaning sweep, making sure not to leave anything behind. Gathering all of our things, we headed downstairs and checked out of our room. Before stopping to the museum, we headed to the airport and obtained a locker. We placed our bags in the locker and secured the key in our clutch. Heading back to the museum, the taxi we’d taken put us out along the sidewalk. The four of us stared at the museum that was crowding with people.
“Are you ready ladies?”
The girls stared at each other before nodding at me. One by one, we secured the masks on our face, hiding our identity from view. We made our way up the grounds joining in with the crowd. I was happy to see that I was right about all the news crews. They had all been invited inside to film the historic event. We handed our tickets over as the guy stamped our hand. Entering the room, I took in the group of people as they stood around drinking champagne out of the glasses that was being carried around the room. We took glasses from a passing tray and made our way towards the area where the painting will be displayed. The room was still closed off and I knew it was because they were waiting for the Queen who had yet to show. We gathered into a little group by ourselves, while our eyes constantly checked our surroundings.
“I think they just marked us.” Taylor said suddenly.
“What? What do you mean?”
She waited for a couple to pass by us before speaking again. “I wasn’t so sure before, but I am now. The ink used in the stamp is the same ink my father used on his merchandise. He uses it to track stolen property.”
“So they’re tagging everybody just in case the painting goes missing.” I said answering the rest.
“That’s just great.” Yuri sighed. “How are we supposed to get rid of a tracker?”
“Rubbing alcohol will work. I keep a first aid kit with me at all times and I think I got some in my bag at the airport.”
Kerry glanced around at us. “But that won’t be enough time will it? The power will be back on by then.”
We stood there trying to figure a way to get our hands on some rubbing alcohol when Taylor said that she had an idea. She told us to stay put and that she would be back. She disappeared into the crowd as Yuri and Kerry gave me worried glances. I assured them that Taylor knew what she was doing even though I really didn’t have a clue. I just knew that I had to trust her. Thankfully she returned just in time as the doors to the banquet hall were opened and people started to be escorted in. Taylor didn’t get a chance to tell us what she was doing which made me slightly uneasy.
The room filled up as the girls and I headed directly to the front. A couple of people scoffed in anger at the way we barged in front of them, but we ignored them. We had a great view of the display case where the painting would be held. The only problem was the red rope separating us.
The room filled with chatter until the blaring of horns seems to make them cease. Our heads turned as the speaker announced the arrival of the Queen. The dignitaries and the President stood from their chairs on the stage and began to clap. The Queen with all her beauty and elegance— stepped through the door, her jewelry gleaming as bright as the flashes coming from the cameras. She smiled as she made her way past the crowd and up on the stage. The Queen walked up to the microphone and tapped it.
“Good evening everyone. It is so lovely to see you all. Words cannot express how happy I am at all of you for showing your support by attending tonight’s extraordinary moment of history.”
The Queen began to go on about the painting and the artist Bartholomѐ Esteban Murillo. If it wasn’t for me trying to remain alert, I’m pretty sure that I would have grown bored and walked off. Not to say the Queen was boring. It was just everything she was saying, I already knew. Luckily, she decided to end my misery.
“Ladies and Gentleman, I now present to you a new piece to add to our historic collection. I give you, the Beggar Boy painting.”
The crowd clapped as the Queen stepped back from the microphone. Our eyes turned to the two men that were stepping onto the stage, carrying the Beggar Boy painting. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I clapped along with the other guests. It indeed was a historic moment in history. As I clapped, I felt my throat tighten up as tears threatened to leave my eyes. If only my father could see this. He would be so happy right to be a part of a history that many didn’t know about until four months ago. The men placed the painting on the stand as the crowd started taking photos of it. The Queen sto
od beside it proud as if she was the one who’d painted the portrait herself.
As I stared at the painting, I realized something was off. I stepped a little bit closer to the rope as my eyes scanned the painting. My eyes must have gone over it twenty times before it was confirmed.
This was not the real Beggar Boy painting.
This painting…was a fake.
The Bonnies Page 21