The Royal Heist

There were people below, there were people behind. And the earth fell beneath me….

If only everything had gone as planned....

A few hours earlier:

After several years of hunting, Mr. Novak had finally managed to get his hands on the, long believed to be lost, treasure: The royal necklace of the Windsor’s.

And today, was its grand showcase.

Being a lover of gold myself, I could not let some fancy billionaire, to have such an antique piece, all to his self now, could I? So, I made sure I would be invited to the party as well… Ahem... even if it was as a butler….

 So at 4:30 p.m., Mr. Novak entered the grand hall, which was decorated lavishly, on account of the grand evening. His elegant walk contained a charm of a business man. He stopped right next to the showpiece that was placed on a raised platform, and which currently was covered in a purple sheet of cloth.

"Welcome, my fellow friends. Thank you for being here. To be a part of such a brilliant occasion...” Mr. Novak, spoke with an air of authority. Unfortunately, my interest was on the centerpiece, rather than his words. So, as they say, patience is the key to success, in my case, gold, I waited.

"Forgive me, if I don’t permit you to ask me, how I got my dirty hands on such a precious gem. But however, I will permit you…… to see it …."

The curtain from the platform was raised…. And there it was... molded in dark gold, holding the three most precious gems in the center: diamond in the middle, with emerald on one side and ruby on the other, as its partners. The grand necklace was standing on a white colored neck stand, which was attached to the raised stage. The entire showpiece was encased in a glass case, giving the neck piece a shimmering effect.  The sight was magnificent…completely transfixing.

"Sight for sore eyes, isn't she?” Mr. Novak was satisfied with the crowd’s reaction.

“Now, we would all like to know a little history about this necklace, eh? As, everybody assembled here knows, this beauty here, once belonged to the family of The Windsor's. It was worn by the then Queen, Mrs. Catherine Windsor, during their rule in the 1820's. Believed to be lost or should I say stolen, by an unfaithful servant, only to be lost in a few decades again”

Just then one of the guests called out for a drink. I waddled through the crowd to reach him, hardly listening to Mr. Novak's speech. It was time.

"Italy... Geneva... Even London.... This piece has traveled the world. The last rumor was....."

He went on, showing the pictures on a projector. While, everybody was busy, looking at the slides, I silently took a picture of the necklace from my phone.

"No cellphones during work" one of my colleagues whispered, while passing.

"Girlfriend...” I replied with a sly grin.

I put my phone back and noiselessly walked past the showpiece, and out of the hall, into the kitchen. I grabbed my bag, got out through the backdoor, round the backyard to the front gate.

This is where my plan ended. I had completely no idea, how to get past these elite security killer machines. My plan was simple; grab the necklace and escape, although the escape part was still on a blueprint.

“Where are you going?” one of them stopped and asked me.

“Home. My shift just got over”. The security looked at me as though his eyes could scan right through my skull. He grunted and ran the detectors over me and then over my bag.

Damn it!!!

The sensor beeped loudly. He asked me to empty my bag. I tried to tell, it was just my lunch box… but, who was I trying to fool. He snatched my bag to open it.

Suddenly, the alarm from the house went off.

"It’s gone... The necklace's been taken…It’s gone… Search the house… Search everybody…” Mr. Novak’s voice was heard over the receiver.

That was my cue. I grabbed my bag and jumped off the huge artistic gate, and into the street. I ran, not really concentrating where the road led, but just hoping that I wouldn't hit any dead ends.

Huge monstrous vehicles flung out of the house to chase me, while I was only on foot? Bloody unfair!! So I grabbed a scooter, and took off the side road. The jeeps followed.

The scooter carried me a few meters towards the Lionel Bridge, before it ran empty. Wow... Such is my luck. I dropped the vehicle and started running again.

Just near to the bridge, a boy parked his cycle, to buy an ice cream. A luxury, I couldn't afford right now. I grabbed his cycle and peddled off through the bridge into the other part of the city.

With the bad guys (Well, they are!!), still behind me, I rode through the streets of the city, into a park, across the Stalwart Theater and into the old city. This is where my luck, decided to take a tour again.

Five minutes into the old city, I ran into a dead end. I took a right turn and then another, and met a dead end again. The monstrous vehicles never left my side. I can’t remember the last time, somebody being so loyal to me.

Filled with old heritage houses, the street that I decided to enter, had led me to a complete dead end. No right, No left, just an old, worn out building in front.

I abandoned the cycle, and went in through the only path, fate had provided me with: Straight into the house. My goal: reach the terrace. I didn't want to know what would happen after.

So, here I was. On top of an old rusted building. Completely out of breath, and the weight of my treasure, weighing on my shoulders.

My father had often told me, that when the earth falls beneath you, you remember to jump. Between certain death by the killer guards and a certain death due to a maniac stunt, I chose the stunt.

I jumped off the ridge, hardly imagining I could make it to the other end. But I did. I managed to jump off the roof to the next building. But, I had also managed to lose my bag on the way. The bag had stripped itself along the straps and had fallen down the street below, right in front of an aged man. He looked at me, unsure, if I was even human.

"Sir, would you please throw the bag up? Please... it's my bag. At your feet, Please pass it up"

The man just stared. One of the guards’ reached the edge, and pointing his gun at me, shouted to the old man, to pass the bag to him instead.

I desperately, wanted the old man to trust me. But it looked like; he could not put one and one together.

Oh! For Pete’s sake!!...

Between my sweet life and my precious cargo, I had to choose. I looked at the man, who was still confused, and then at the guard. I had no time for this. So, before the guard could decide on shooting me, I waved him a goodbye, rolled on my back and ran. I had run only a few steps when I heard a gunshot. The bullet hit the ridge, missing me by inches. Without looking back, I jumped off the roof, to the street below, towards my den.

It was late in the night, when I broke into Mr. Novak's house again, silently. Luckily, I had managed to dodge all of Mr. Novak's guards. I walked towards the hall, to the pedestal that had held the necklace this morning. The neck stand lay bare. No glass enclosure... No lights… no necklace... I sighed. What a shame!

I took out a pen from my pocket and brought it close to the stool. Nothing happened. No alarm sounds…. Nothing... Just a silent dark hall…. Just the way I wanted...

Smiling at my fate, I happily bent down, pulled out a knife and opened the small compartment door just below the raised platform that I had carved early this morning. Inside, in the dark, lying silently over the original stand was the necklace. Even in this darkened hall, it glittered, like a bright sun on the darkest night.

I carefully removed it from its stand, took it out and placed it in a box, which I had purchased just for such a beauty. Carefully, I shut the box, and put it inside my backpack.

Now, it was time to get out. I placed the door back in its place, walked back into the kitchen and then into to the backyard. But this time, I decided to jump off the back wall rather than getting out the front. The last exit wasn’t much fun…

I was out. I was free. And miraculously, I had both my spoil and my life. Was it all worth it?... Well…it was worth a bag of nuts and bolts…

If only everything had gone as planned? Well... It did...

That One Case

That One Case

Ana Florence paced the garden that grandly decorated the front of the judicial court. If it wasn’t for the case, she would have sat down on the bench and enjoyed this very scene. But, right now, the only thing that played her mind was, this case. Her lawyer, mercifully, had pretty much convinced the judge of her being guilty.

“I think it’s time for us to go in”. Mr. Florence quipped, looking at his watch then at the court’s entrance door, but not at his daughter. He just didn’t have enough strength.

Ana looked at her father, she had never seen him this depressed. He was the source of her strength, but now he looked devastated, almost…. dead. And she was not going to make him even more miserable.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

~*~

Half an hour later, Ana, standing in the witness box, still looked guilty.

“Your Honor, Ms. Florence does not have any proof that Mr. Baron really did attempt to harass her. But it might be that Ms. Florence could be trying to exploit Mr. Baron of his money, given his grandeur status. In conclusion, You Honor, I would like to say that my client has been proven innocent and I would request the court to drop all the charges applied against him”. Mr. Baxley bowed and concluded his statement.

Ana looked at the defendant… it was now or never….

“Your Honor, honestly speaking, I have no idea if I could speak now or not, but may I?”, Ana asked faking in a slight hesitation.

The judge looked at Ana for a few seconds, but nodded.

“May I speak directly to Mr. Baxley?”

The judge nodded again.

“Thank you, Your Honor…. Mr. Baxley, Do you own a house?”

The defendant looked at the judge, confused and then back at Ana.

“Yes”

“And I take it that you like-… sorry love your house?”

“Of Course, who doesn't?”

Ana pasted a smile and said, “Not many. Now, do have a family? Kids?”

Mr. Baxley turned towards the judged. “Your Honor, these questions are irrelevant to the case. We are-“

“My apologies, I haven’t studied law, Your Honor. So, I wouldn’t know what to ask or how to ask. I thoroughly apologize for that again. But, Your Honor, these questions are relevant to this case”

“Proceed”. The judge mentioned his agreement.

“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Mr. Baxley?, Do you have a family or not?”

“Yes, I have. A very happy one”, Ana smiled.

“Congratulations. And you don’t have any problems sleeping at night?”

Mr. Baxley started laughing. “No. I sleep soundly every night”

“Very nice to know. Now, with your permission, I would like to place you in a hypothetical situation, one, of your house getting burgled. Do I have your consent?”

Mr. Baxley had stopped laughing. “What is this?”

“Its all hypothetical, Mr. Baxley, you don’t have to worry. Do I have your consent?”, Ana repeated her question.

Mr. Baxley looked pointedly at Ana, but gave a nod.

“Thank you. Now, if your house is getting burgled, what would you do?”

“I’d call the police”

“Right, but the thieves won’t be waiting until the police turn up, would they?. It would be utter foolishness of them”. The court heard a few laughs at this.

“What do you think, they would do, Mr. Baxley? Run? Stick around?... or murder?

“They would obviously run”

“But you wouldn't be alive when they do that, am I right?”

Mr. Baxley shifted on his feet and said, “No”

“Of course not. Now, since it’s a hypothetical case, let’s just say, you fought them as a hero and somehow miraculously survived. The burglars ran for their lives, empty handed. Later, the police come in and investigate. You have everything at its rightful place, nothing has been moved nor have the doors been broken or any of the glasses shattered, just you standing there with a club and a few injuries. And for the sake of ease, we will keep your family at your mother’s house happily enjoying their vacation. Now, if the police see you in such a situation, what do you think they would say?”

“They will surely ask what has happened. And I would inform them about the attempted burglary”

Ana folded her arms across her chest. “Huh. But what about the proof? If thieves really entered your house, then why hasn't anything been taken? Why is it just you with few injuries?”.

“I would have already told them. I fought!!”

The court room had suddenly gone very silent.

“Of course, you fought. But without proof, it’s just another story. When they enquire about your family and find them on vacation, there is a tiny possibility that, they think of you as a lunatic who is trying to waste their precious time”

“I was hurt!! Why would I have injuries, if it wasn’t for a burglary attempt?”, Mr. Baxley accused.

“A person with mental problems hurts himself, Mr. Baxley”

“I’m not mental”

“Maybe, but as there’s no proof…. it might all be in your imagination”

Mr. Baxley’s point of patience had reached its peak.

“I’M NOT MENTAL. DID YOU WANT ME TO SAVE MY OWN NECK OR GATHER PROOF ABOUT BEING LOOTED?”

Ana smiled, a smile saying that she had heard what she wanted to hear.

“Exactly”

Mr. Baxley looked at her confused.

“Doesn't seem fair though? You wanted to “save your own neck”, so you fought the crooks, without actually waiting to get any proof. But, when I complain of being harassed, you wanted me to actually have some proof rather than saving myself?”

And now, there was no stopping Ana. Her face was lit with anger and disappointment at the injustice being done.

“When Mr. Baron, as per your statement, “graced” by, you wanted me to pull out my phone and take a video of it instead of defending myself?, A video, which so innocently, I hand in to the police, when I try to lodge a complaint. A video, that worms itself out to the internet, despite my phone getting sealed. A video, which people like you, expertly find it later”

“Watch your tongue, Madam”. Mr. Baxley had become very serious now.

Ana scoffed and rolled her eyes. She looked back at the defendant and opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it. She tried again, but failed. The fury of injustice was burning inside her. Finally, she controlled herself and spoke.

“You know what? I understand. I understand completely about how this works. I become your victim. I go to the police, who are nowhere interested in taking down my complaint, but do so, just to show off their duties. And then I hire a lawyer, who doesn't even try to fight my case and leave the case to people like you to make me look guilty. And to top all that a judge sits there, who’s probably been bribed to write the case against me. That way, I go back to my life, to get treated as a cheap woman who walks the streets, while your client walks out free… unscathed. See, I understand… Completely”

Mr. Baxley looked at the judge, who tried to sit more comfortable in his chair and then back at Ana.

“As you said, it’s all hypothetical”. He went and sat in his chair.

~*~

After a break of two hours, Ana and her father waited for the judgment in the court room, a small ray of hope shimmering, now that she had fought her case thoroughly.

The judge ordered for silence.

“After careful evaluation of the provided situation, the court has come to a final judgment. After listening to the statements and proofs provided by the defendant and the prosecutor, this court has come to the conclusion that, Ms. Florence had indeed over reacted to the situation and had attacked Mr. Baron. And as a result, she would have to pay for all the medical expenses, until Mr. Baron has been declared fit by his concerned doctor. Mr. Baron has been declared innocent and Ms. Florence’s accusation’s mute. Case adjourned.”

Ana sat there, motionless, unbelieving. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, but she neither recognized it nor felt it. Her lawyer had walked up to her and said he was sorry, but none of that fell on her ears. Is this how the court system worked? Is there no place for justice? Is that fair lady really that blind?

Mr. Florence slowly pulled her daughter up and walked her out.

~*~

Judge Roland reached his house, wiping a sweat off his brow. He was welcomed by a sweet smile from his wife. She took his coat and bag and went to place it in its right place.

“Where’s Lia? Can’t hear her crying?”, he said with a smile dancing on his face.

“She’s sleeping. It’s been quite a time, now that you mention it”. The pressure cooker’s whistle was heard in the kitchen. The wife indicated the judge to look at the baby, while she took care of the dinner. The judge smiled and went in to Lia’s room. There in a small crib, lay curled under the blankets, his precious source of happiness. He went closer to her, to see her lovely smiling face looking up at him. But he couldn’t find her. He pulled the blankets a little lower, thinking she might have curled up inside, but no… she wasn’t there either. Confused, he pulled the blankets completely off…… but instead of finding his granddaughter, he found a small neatly folded paper. The judge picked it up and read.

Hope she was worth the bribe

The Game

The Game

“….. Though Professor Dawson stands as one of the strongest contender against Mr. Golding, an infinite number continue to support Mr. Golding’s campaign, ultimately telling us one fact: Mr. Golding is here to stay….”

“And you are one of them”. Mr. Laurel shouted at the TV screen.

“If he wins this election too, then there’s no stopping him……” Mr. Stewart answered. He turned to Mr. Dawson and asked, “What do you suggest we do, Professor?”

Professor Dawson picked up his glass of beer, raised it to his colleagues and said with a small smile, “We Win”. Both his members looked at each other, confused.

“Sir, I have a question. We all know that you come from a very humble background and that you needed to borrow money to finance your first campaign. Do you remember how much you borrowed?”

“Um…. it’s been a real long time… but I assure you, that every penny was returned and well before time”, answered Mr. Golding.

The reporter smiled. “Well, $5 Million was easy enough to return…. well before time, I guess?”

Mr. Golding’s smile faltered.

“There also have been rumors about your hand in our ex-president’s death. What is your say in this?”

Mr. Golding stared at the reporter. You will die for this!!

Mr. Golding’s assistant stepped forward. “They are just rumors. Please do not appreciate them. This press conference has now ended. Thank You”. 

 Once in his car, Mr. Golding turned to his assistant, breathing hard he said. “I want a complete file on that reporter….. by tonight!!”

“What happened? Were you able to find anything on that reporter?”

The assistant bowed his head. “I’m afraid; it’s more bad news, Sir. The reporter was a fake. He was sent by someone”

“Dawson!! He’s the only one who wants to see you down, Father. He’s going to pay for this. I’ll-“

“……rumors have yet again caught the wind. Whether Mr. Golding really murdered our late President or not? What can a man do-“

Golding Jr. moved to turn off the TV, but Mr. Golding ordered against it.

“Father-“. 

Mr. Golding raised his hand for silence. 

“He used a fake reporter. We use the real media….. and real supporters. Felix, you know what to do”

“……continuous riots have caused problems round the city. The rumors of Mr. Golding’s so called “sins”, has enraged the mass and it seems they won’t be stopping at anything”

“… Mr. Golding has been accused allegedly of being in contact with the mafia. These allegations come in at a time when presidential elections are at its closest. News also has that these proceedings were financed by none other than the opposition leader, Mr. Dawson”

Mr. Stewart looked up from the TV at Inspector Clark, who had just arrived.

“Inspector Clark!! What brings you here?”

“My apologies, but I’m here to arrest Mr. Dawson on spreading false rumors about Mr. Golding” answered the Inspector.

Professor Dawson smiled. He turned to look at Mr. Stewart, who nodded and started making calls.

“… More breaking news: Mr. Dawson has been remanded by the local police for creating false rumors about Mr. Golding”

“Your plan worked father”

Mr. Golding smiled and relaxed on his couch. “Now, we win”

“…. But it has also come to notice that the police do not have exact proof against Mr. Dawson. This might also go to suggest that Mr. Golding might be using his powers to get Professor Dawson behind bars”

“…. In the latest news, it has come to light that Mr. Golding had indeed borrowed a hefty amount of $5 Million for his first campaign. And the people who had loaned the money have either joined hands with him or met a terrible death. Mr. Faulkner, who had loaned $80,000 to Mr. Golding, was killed by a dangerous mafia gang. It’s been rumored that Mr. Golding had financed the hit…”

“… Sources at the CBI have confirmed that our late President’s death was indeed a case of murder. Sources also confirm that a hand of a highly established official …..”

“… It is also said that the frequent riots caused, was an ‘Act of drama’ directed by Mr. Golding himself…”

“As you can see the celebrations of our newly elected President continues …”

“Ah… Welcome Mr. Golding!!” greeted Professor Dawson.

“Congratulations!!....Mr. President…..” Mr. Golding replied with a tight smile.

“Thank you. But it is as they say: the night is always followed by the day….”  Professor replied with a smile.

“Enjoy while you can, Dawson. You’ve played your part and now it’s time to play play mine”