grossly ashamed of his actions now, but without that start he'd never have ended up in this line of work, and without that life would be so boring.
On the sixth floor he found them having a heated discussion, though he couldn't really make out what about through the double glazing. He guessed it was the little encounter back at the bar. Unlike the rest of the apartments Gavin had looked in, this one was pretty sparse. Clearly it was for the look of living here, rather than a permanent residence. Another positive note for them. There was no furniture in this room except a desk and an office chair, though what really got Gavin's attention was the canvases leaning against a far wall.
After nearly ten minutes of watching the crazily animated conversation Kelly stormed out with Will on her heels, finally switching to apology mode.
The small window at the top had been left fractionally open, but it was just enough for him to allow to open it fully and within seconds Gavin had the larger window unlocked and he was inside. He silently made his way across the room and started inspecting the paintings. If Gavin didn't know better he would have thought any one of them could be the original.
Then he heard a noise behind him. “These aren't half bad. Will, you've actually impressed me with this.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Will shouted.
“Inspecting the merchandise. Eight marks, all in the same city. They better look mighty convincing. I'll be honest, they do.”
Will looked like he was ready to throttle Gavin but Kelly put her hand on his arm and he relaxed a little.
“How do you plan on getting the real painting? Is this where Will's 'and more' comes in?”
“Look I'm grateful for what you did back at The Metro, but we're not here to lay out our entire plan for you. You get thirty percent of Bateman's money, we take care of the rest.” Kelly looked at Will as if to say that was it, and Will started toward Gavin again.
“Except from what I've seen you're both pretty new to this, and have a lot to learn. We're up to four mistakes already and I only met you an hour ago. Now what is the plan?”
Kelly's shoulders slumped and Will stopped mid-stride. Gavin realised he might have pushed that point a little too far.
“Look, you two have a fair amount of talent. Kelly's got the hallmarks of a great con artist, if a little untested, and Will, I'll say it again, those paintings are great. But I get the distinct impression that this isn't your usual scheme. Decided to step up your game?”
It was Kelly that answered. “Yeah, we got tired of the short cons and small pay days. Realised if we got a big score we could kick back for awhile. Enjoy life a little. We've sold plenty of forgeries before, but the really worthwhile paintings are in galleries. Will's never struggled copying something like that. It seemed like an easy score.”
“Except, for the Mona Lisa variation, someone has to steal the original. So how?”
Will wandered over to the computer desk and lovingly tapped the laptop sitting on. “That's where this baby comes in. Forgery isn't my forte, my real magic is done with this. I can have full control of the cameras and alarms any time I want.”
“Well if you can hack as well as you can paint that should be something. What about the guards?”
“I'll have the cameras. I can guide Kelly around them so they don't have a clue.”
Gavin simply looked at them both, not really sure if he could believe what he'd just heard. “Just walk around them? Jesus Christ. Getting in?”
“Hide in a supply closest like Perrugia did in the original scheme.” Will answered, his voice showing how unsure he was about the plan now.
“Perrugia actually worked for the Louvre, that's why he could get into a closet without anyone thinking something was up. Neither one of you is a thief are you?”
“We've managed to do pretty well for ourselves this far.” Kelly protested.
“By lying, forging and hacking. Have you ever had to break into somewhere?”
“No,” Will admitted.
“Well it's a good job I came along then. I'll be taking that thirty percent we discussed earlier.”
“Oh and why should we believe you can do it?” Kelly asked defiantly.
“That Rembrandt we discussed, I stole it.”
Both of them were clearly impressed. “Okay, you steal the painting, you get twenty percent of the whole take.” Kelly offered.
“Thirty, the whole job falls apart without that painting going missing.”
She sighed, “Fine. Thirty.”
“Pleasure working with you. Now Will, let's discuss how we are going to time this.”
It was the early hours of the morning when Gavin finally left their apartment. Gavin glanced at Kelly as held the door open for him. “You sleeping with him?”
She glared at Gavin. “What's that got to do with anything?”
Gavin smiled. “That's a yes then.”
“Still doesn't make it any of your business.”
“On a long con you never know. But that's not my point. My point is that you better be careful.”
“You turned into my Dad all of a sudden?”
Gavin raised his eyebrow, but continued. “You're a grifter, you don't worry about people's feelings, you wonder how to manipulate them. There will come a time that you choose to sleep with a mark to ingrain yourself into their lives. If Will is still around he might not take that well.” Kelly looked at him with a puzzled look. “He's a geek. He'll think he's won the lottery simply because he's banging a girl like you. Right now you figure that's for the best simply because it keeps him in line. But the longer it goes on the more likely he'll see the green-eyed monster when you start sharing the sugar with marks.”
“It's not like that,” Kelly protested.
“Maybe not now. But it will be.” Gavin stepped out on to the pavement and flagged down a taxi. Kelly stood stock still, contemplating just what he'd said.
A week had passed since the break-in, and it was the day Gavin had agreed with Will that his payment was due. The job had gone off without a hitch, having already broken in three nights previously meant Gavin didn't need to worry about the layout or the security arrangements. With Will coaching over a comm-device and having full control of the cameras made it that much easier. Of course he'd had to go through the entire thing without using his powers as Will was watching through the CCTV and was expecting to see 'Michael' do his magic, and Gavin didn't really want anyone knowing about his magic. He flashed back to how this all started and grimaced, he didn't want anyone else knowing about it. Besides, it had been good to stretch the old muscles, it wouldn't be clever if he started to rely on his abilities a bit too much.
He picked up his laptop and sunk into the faux leather sofa in his home in the Colorado Hills. He logged into the account and sure enough there was one hundred and six thousand, five hundred dollars. Just as he expected.
If they sold each of them for forty thousand except Bateman's it was about right, but something just seemed off. It didn't seem enough.
Gavin reached for the phone and dialled one of the few numbers he knew off by heart.
After two rings the call was picked up and the sweet tones of the person at the other end of the line came through. “Gavin?”
“Hi Steph.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“One in the morning over there. Since when did that mean anything to you?”
He heard her little laugh. “Fair point. But sometimes I like to act like I lead a normal life. What is it?”
“Can you do me a favour?”
“For you babe? Of course.”
“My account?”
“Hang on,” Gavin waited a few seconds. “Okay, what about it? Hm, that's a small figure for you. I hope it wasn't a proper job.”
“It wasn't, just something to tide me over. Can you backtrack the payment? The original account should have eight deposits in it before the transfer to me. I can't shake the feeling that I didn't get the right amount.”
“
Sure.” Gavin was silent again while he could hear Steph tap away at the keyboard. “Right here we are. Though it looks like nine deposits to me. Most around the sixty thousand, one at forty and another at seventy five. Just under twenty percent take. That what you expected?”
Gavin smiled to himself. “Sounds about right. Thanks Steph.” He hung up the phone and looked at the O'Keefe hanging above his fireplace. There might be hope for those two kids after all.
About The Author
After years of struggling with the Daily Grind, yearning for something more, James gave it all up to become an writer. Between making stuff up about superpowers existing in the real world, he also writes about heroic mass murderers, sorry, videogames.
Visit James Haresign's website and blog at www.nightjim.com
You can also follow his ramblings on Twitter @NightJim
The Sound of Money
Fallowed Ground
The Pitch Page 3