El Gato - Part III

[seymoure]

This was the night. It all had to be done tonight.

There was a dedication of a new Health Club that would service all the big wigs of the Government, so she could start early. The offices would be unguarded as soon as the doors closed.

She had never had nerves like this night, even when she thought she was going to get married. She was actually relieved when Bert didn’t show up.

Hart was in the car, watching. Even half a block away she could see his eyes. He had never been a Drill Sergeant, but he had shown many of the qualities on was supposed to possess these last days.

One last time she checked through the window. The cleaning crew wouldn’t arrive for two hours yet, so now was the time to go. If anyone got really industrious she would need to be done before they got there early.

The kit in her pocket was the simplest of burglar tools, and she used them mechanically, as she had been taught. The door opened smooth as butter on a hot summer’s day. She had disabled the alarm just before everyone had been told to leave for the day. It was shamefully easy to do and she knew that, should she ever need an alarm system, TimeClok™ would not be the brand she would purchase. She would have to remember to turn it on before she left.

She had the documents she would have to shop out. Hart himself had forged them with her watching. Even at his age his hand was sure, the man was an artist. He even knew about the magnetic stripping the newer documents would need.

He even showed her the $20 bill he had done by hand, with the magnetic strip and perfect paper. He did it for the same reason Hackers do a lot of the first foray into the Pentagon, not to undermine national security, but to prove they could do it. He would never use that bill, it was his personal trophy. Permanent proof he was still capable of anything he thought necessary.

The locks on the cabinets with the legal papers were even easier than the alarm and the doors. She felt she could have opened them with chop sticks if she had to.

Everything else was done as efficiently throughout the night.

Now was the finish line.

Filch’s house stood before her. She was about to get out of the Jaguar that Hart had loaned her, when his Rolls pulled up. He rolled down his window and his hand beckoned her.

“This is the first time tonight,” he told her as she leaned in, “That jail time is possible. We could have talked you out of any trouble up to this point. But, you get caught by that cheapskate; he will throw the book at you.”

Without a word she nodded understanding.

“It’s not for me,” she whispered, “It’s for the kids. It’s always been for the kids.”

His hand touched lightly on the back of her hand. She smiled. They had become very close in this short time. He was very much older than her and that gave him a very fatherly status.

She stood up tall, and hoped she hoped she was confident.

The dogs were just where they expected them to be, and in seconds they were contentedly eating the meatballs she tossed. A few more seconds and they were blissfully asleep. She looked closely at them. Cameron had promised her that the worst they would feel was a bit of a head ache when they woke up.

Now she walked to the box and removed all the fuses from the house. That would take care of the first level of security. Now she thought back at the schematic she had studied earlier. It was simple to find the line she was looking for and snip it with her clippers. If everything had been correct, she had just disabled the back-up power source for the alarm system.

She stood at the mansion’s back door and hesitated for an instant. If everything was as it should be she could open that door without jeopardy. The entire hope rested on the turn of that knob.

She turned the doorknob.

Nothing happened.

He breathed relief and went in.

Now, the work really carried on.

*****

The papers were full of it the next morning. Not about a burglary, nor about break-ins at City offices, but about the greatest Philanthropist in the history of the city.

They even quoted his proclamation, sent to all the City Officials as well as the newspapers as an e-mail. They checked the I.P. just in case. It had come from Filch’s computer. (It was handy, that pocket power source she had brought with her. Cameron had also loaned her a password cracker that was phenomenal)

The former miser had created a blind trust that would fund the schools in town for perpetuity. He also set up one that would make scholarships for graduates of local schools for the State College.

This funding would so drain his personal finances that he had had to put together a frugal trust of his own, that would give him a living allowance and home maintenance for life. He would live well, if he was careful and didn’t try anything daring financially, for a long life.

The city would cast a bronze statue in the city square in honor of the greatest man in the history of his hometown.

Filch had no statement for the press, which surprised no one. True noblemen don’t want to wallow in praise.

Stephanie was sitting in the screening room with El Gato, as Cameron was spooling up the original “Ocean’s Eleven.”

“I really want to thank you, Mr. Hart, you’ve done such a good thing!”

“My dear young lady, you did all the work,” he responded without looking at her, “Cameron and I thank you.”

At that point the butler entered with an ice bucket and champagne. He leaned conspiratorially over to the larger man, “Have you asked her yet?”

Hart shook his head, and then looked at her.

“What?” she asked.

“We had been talking to someone about you,” the elder burglar said, “Someone from a small town just outside of Springfield, Missouri.”

She took the offered champagne class and held it out for the butler to fill it up, “And?”

“We figure we could go in in a weekend this summer,” Cameron told her, “They would offer support and background. Looks like it is very much like to problem was here….”

She froze, unbelieving for a moment.

“We just thought…” Hart tried to smooth it over, “But, no promises were made. No expectations.”

She finished the glass in a single gulp.

“We could start planning as soon as we finish the movie,” She said as she sat back.

There were smiles all around as Cameron hit the remote that began the projector and dimmed the lights.

THE END

                                                   © C. Wayne Owens