The Heist

Inspired by a true story:

“Halt!” cried someone from behind.

Henri and his partner Bernard immediately broke into a run in the other direction. They ran through the interior of the train station, weaving around little clumps of people. Henri slammed his shoulder into a glass door. It screeched a little, but the two still ended up outside, breathing the Paris night air.

“This way,” said Henri. The two streaked through dimly lit alleys, over brick walls, with the wind whistling in their ears, and soon, the heavy patter of feet behind them faded away.

Bernard’s face flushed as red as a tomato as he gasped for air. “So, what do we have this time, Henri?”

Henri fumbled with the little leather bag and finally got it open. “Wow, a million dollars! Just kidding... I knew you would fall for that.” Henri chuckled at Bernard’s confused expression. “But still, five hundred dollars in U.S. currency! And the guy’s passports and identification to boot! These stupid tourists,” Henri said laughing, “Thank God for ‘em!”

“That was a close one though, Henri.”

“Oh shut up. Constable Lukoph never has nor ever will fool the great Henri Shadeu. You know that. I’m like a shadow, always there, but just out of reach. I never fail... I’m always perfect. Now don’t waste time, we must prepare for next week. I’ve dirtied my suit a little, and I think I’ve cracked the camera. Remember, I’m just an innocent looking tourist trying to find his way...” They laughed. “So take care of it all before I see you again tomorrow, Bernard.”

“Oui monsieur. Au revoir.”

“Au revoir.”

* * * * * * *

Henri licked his lips and rubbed his palms together in anticipation. A week had passed since his last heist at the train station. Clad in his newly cleaned suit, he toted a new camera around his neck. Henri had already selected his prey. It was an Oriental family with a newborn child. “Yep,” he thought, “this is going to be easy meat...”

Suddenly, only for an instant, though, he felt a pang of sorrow at what he was about to commit, at his entire life’s commitment. “What if I take their passports too? They’ll never be able to leave France. And the poor kid...” It was so cold outside that you could pour out a cup of water and it would freeze before hitting the ground. Even so, the baby, not even a year old, was wrapped in only one cloth diaper... and the mother and father were dressed humbly as well.

They had in front of them a little cart with their belongings piled on top. There was a handbag or purse of some sort right on the top. The whole picture was one of meek existence.

Henri sighed and forcefully shoved those thoughts from his mind, out of his ear, and onto the floor. He smiled and stomped on the linoleum with his leather shoe, as if crushing those thoughts underneath his heel. “This is why I’m the best in the business. No sympathy, no second thoughts. We go for the handbag, and that’s all. Everything worth our while will be in there.” He signaled to Bernard, who was sitting some yards away and pretending to read a magazine. Henri indicated that this family with the handbag was the target. Bernard nodded in confirmation.

Henri put on his best out-of-town-and-I’m-lost face, went up to the father of the family, and said, “Excuse me sir, but where can I find this address?” He showed him a piece of paper, a piece of paper that had beguiled thousands and thousands of dollars from tourists before that night.

“Uh, I do not know. Let me see here I have a map I’ll check.” The wife said something to her husband, and even though it was foreign to Henri, he could tell she was showing disapproval to her husband for wanting to be so helpful all the time. While all of their backs were turned away from the cart, examining the map, Bernard stealthily walked passed them briskly, and hooked the precious prize from the stockpile on the cart. He nonchalantly looked over his shoulder as he walked away, as if he were curious at what was going on there. Then he walked out of the train station.

Henri smiled at his victims. “Well, it seems to be no use. I guess I’ll just have to find this place on my intuition, huh? OK, well thanks very much anyway.” Henri turned and walked slowly out of the train station, faking concentration on his piece of paper, as if that would help him find his destination.

Henri and Bernard met at a nearby local bar to open the handbag. “How much do you suppose these people had?” asked Bernard earnestly.

“At first, I thought there wouldn’t be much, but now I have a feeling that this is something big, Bernard. I don’t know what it is. You know, these Japanese, or Chinese, or whatever, I can never tell the difference, they carry a lot of money when they travel. All cash. What’s in here could change the way we live for a long time, mon ami. Let’s see.” Henri always found particular excitement when finding out what his planning and labor produced. Carefully, he opened the handbag and peered inside.

“DAMN!” exclaimed Henri extremely loudly, causing the other folks around him to jump. He flung the bag against the far side of the bar, startling some patrons and drawing a frown from the bartender. Two cloth diapers and a blue plastic box of baby wipes dropped out of the bag—nothing else. Henri, smoldering with frustration and anger, slowly got up and began to leave.

“Where did you get that handbag?” a low voice asked. Henri felt a hand grip his shoulder brusquely. He pivoted, fearlessly, and stared into the smiling face of Constable Lukoph. Henri's face dropped. Lukoph's grip tightened. Without even a glance backward, Bernard quickly slipped out the door, never to be seen again—and as abruptly as that, the incredible career of the great Henri Shadeu came to an end.