Glaster and Lydia leaned inconspicuously against the side of a large stone fence. Any passers by would mistake them for lovers or ne’er-do-wells, common in these cobbled alleys. The boss was very careful, so if they wanted to go around him, they’d have to be doubly so.

“It’s cold. I hate the cold. Why’d we agree to this?.” Glaster chuckled nervously, rubbing his palms together. Liza had called them both here, and she was the only person besides the boss that Glaster was afraid of. It wasn’t an accomplishment to be smarter than Glaster, but her wit could run circles around just about anybody. Bodyer brought experience, but Liza was the true brains of the operation.

“It creeps me out. I feel like he knows we’re here.” Said Lydia, looking from side to side. Lydia was Glaster’s favorite. She could drink like one of the men, and told jokes that would make even them pale. They’d been asked to leave pubs before because Glaster’s raucous laughter made it impossible for other patrons to enjoy themselves. Then he’d bounce the bartender, and drinks were on the house. Well, that was back in the day, before Bodyer.

“When is that woman going to get here?”

“You know how Liza works. She’ll show up as soon as your guard is down.”

Glaster shuffled from foot to foot, noticing an arrow scratched into the surface of one of the stones. “You think this is meant for us?” he asked.

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Seems likely.”

They followed the arrow to a branching path in the alley, where another arrow pointed left. They followed three further arrows before finally finding a scroll tucked away between some loose cobblestone in an abandoned home.

Glaster, Lydia,

I have a job for you. There’s a bank on Apple street, the Franklin Trust. In the back, I’ve had an agent loosen some mortar on a wall leading into the back of the bank vault. There’s a safe there. Lydia, crack the safe. Glaster, you’re on security and transportation. Any deeds or wills are mine, the rest you split fifty fifty. At least seventy thousand gold to be made.

Liza

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Glaster scratched his head, “How’d she know you were a safe cracker?”

Lydia shrugged, “It’s Liza.”

“You know the boss isn’t going to like this. This’ll get attention.”

“Might as well get it over with then.”

Neither of them were going to say no to thirty five thousand gold. They snaked their way out of the alleyway down Second Street, reaching Apple. With Liza planning, it was safe to assume that she had known that this would be the best time to act. The sky overhead was dark and the windows of the bank were black. To the left of the door ran a narrow alley that they sidled through to reach the back.

Just as promised, the mortar between the stones had been completely dissolved. With a heavy kick from his enormous boot the wall tumbled inward. The sound of the stones crashing echoed around the small alley, but the district would be empty by this late hour. Lydia and Glaster stalked into the pitch black, and now dusty, room. From a concealed pocket, Lydia produced a small lamp.

The room itself was largely unimpressive, stones picked for their thickness rather than attractive qualities. The walls were austere but separating the vault from the bank was an enormous wrought iron gate made of pig iron as thick as Lydia’s arm. The bank had clearly found success.

Lydia sat her lamp down in front of the safe and got to work. Glaster stood at attention before the hole his boot had made. This was a well oiled machine by now. Before they had been brought in by Bodyer, they had knocked over fifty or so smaller banks in the slums of Era’s domain. They had even earned themselves a nickname, The Beauty and the Beast. This was before Lydia had her tattoos, which made her rather less appealing to the masses.

Their problem was their escape plan, or lack thereof. They had both been arrested six times, and escaped five. Thanks to Bodyer, they were now in the clear.

It was maybe thirty seconds before Lydia managed to pop the safe, swinging the door wide. Glaster carefully trod back in, filled up his pack, then they walked back out the way they came. Three minutes, in and out. There was none of the excitement of when they were younger, none of the adrenaline. They left filled with anxiety and guilt.

Liza’s operations were led out of the Comfort and Hospitality Inn, the crown jewel of the completely legal side to her business. Guests would be greeted by a kindly, albeit dim matron, ready with a hearty stew and a story.

Glaster and Lydia opened the cellar door to the Comfort and Hospitality. They passed her ‘husband’, an actor paid to play the part, who nodded and went about his business. He was the only one outside of Bodyer’s crew that knew of Liza’s activities. There, behind two stacked barrels of potatoes, they slid open the hidden door. Liza was already seated behind the table, a massive accounts ledger laid out in front of her.

“Any difficulties?” She asked without looking up. She still wore her innkeeper costume, a dotted frock and hair pulled back to a loose bun.

“None.” Said Lydia, nodding to Glaster.

He hefted the bag of stolen goods and emptied it on the table. When all accounted for there were eighty thousand gold coins to be split equally. There were also six documents that Liza picked up, scanned, and then placed beneath the table. Finally, there was an ornate seal detailed with the insignia of the duchy.

Glaster pounded the table, “What was the duke doing storing this here? How much of this money is his?”

“You knew this would be there.” Lydia narrowed her eyes at Liza, who had returned to her ledger.

“I’ll take care of it. You did good work, enjoy your gold.”

Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then ushered Glaster out before he did anything stupid.

Glaster combed through his beard restlessly, sitting down on the curb beside Lydia. “This is not going to blow over.”

Lydia patted him on his massive shoulder, “You’re going to tear your beard out at this rate.”

“Mark my words, we’ll be talk of the town first thing tomorrow. The duke has all the constables in his pocket.”

Lydia sighed, “The beginning of the end. Let’s get a drink.