Lightfingers was the best thief in the city, or so he liked to think. He had the cool outfit of dark browns and greys, he had a cool peaked cap, he had a scar over one eye, which didn’t impact his vision, but only added to his rugged handsomeness.

He liked to think that every guard and police officer in the city knew his name. The bobby on the beat on a constant lookout, just in case Lightfingers stopped by!

Tonight he had a big job lined up, a robbery of the mansion on the outside of town. He had bought himself a new cape for the event, from his best tailor, and lined up all his subordinates in advance.

A good leader delegates, he always said.

Right now though he was sitting in a coffee house in the centre of town, browsing the local broadsheets and thinking about how cool he was. Really, it was a crime in itself, and he just kept getting away with it!

He took a sip of his coffee, a good roast from some volcanic island off the coast, imported just a few days ago and freshly ground. He held the bowl under his nose and enjoyed the aroma, swilling the liquid within around as if it were brandy. Exquisite.

He drained the liquid and raised his hand for another.

After a moment he lowered it again. The service here was awful. He had paid a whole penny to gain entrance to this establishment, and despite that…!

He placed the bowl down in an elegant fashion, turning back towards the paper. Many newspapers were being published in the newer, tabloid format nowadays, but he was an old fashioned man, and much preferred the broadsheets.

Eyes darting to the side, he surreptitiously checked the front. Ah, the Sun and Stars! A fine paper. Not one he would normally read to be sure, but a fine paper. He turned the page. Would you look at that, Lady Weathermay’s daughter sure was growing up. He shook his head in admiration, before turning the page again. What a fine young woman.

He skimmed the headlines for a while, but finding nothing about himself, quickly grew bored.

He came here for the intellectual and stimulating conversation, but at this time of the morning things were quiet, only a few knots of students from the local university milling around, talking about whatever it was students talked about nowadays. It wasn’t like it had been when he was a lad!

“Gentlemen!” he announced to the room, standing up suddenly from his chair, almost toppling it behind him. A few heads turned to look in his direction.

“I must now be off,” he announced to his audience, giving a dignified wave and a small bow, twirling his cap onto his head as he did so.

“I hear that old thief is in town again! Watch onto your purses, he’s a rogue, that one!” He laughed loudly, giving the students a stern yet fatherly look, as well as a wagged finger.

One of the students waved and bowed back, the gesture that of a subject to an emperor, certainly not one of mockery, and he made his way out of the coffee house, his new cape flowing out behind him. He ignored the booing from a couple of the other students. Kids these days!

Walking down the street, he nabbed a pie from a nearby stall, throwing the seller a penny out of pity. A mix of poor quality vegetables, with no meat in sight. Who would care for this! Food fit only for the poor.

He scoffed at it, and then scoffed it. Waste not want not. There were starving orphans out there after all!

Speaking of starving orphans, he ought to prepare for the job tonight.

But first, a haircut! His favourite hairdresser was already waiting for him with a chair ready, a towel over one arm.

“Big job tonight, Lightfingers?” they asked with a smile, laying out the tools of their trade and mixing up the soap for his face.

He gave them a wink in the mirror, “I wouldn’t tell you if there was, but make sure I look extra good, yeah?”

The barber laughed and started to soap up his face. He was good at his job and always did his work well. Maybe a little bit much of a gossip, though.

Next, he visited his absolute favourite store, a little shop off of Bearstrip, one of the oldest streets in town.

The shop, The Great Grape, was one of those old dusty stores which nobody ever seemed to enter, with a bell above the door and all of the merchandise out of sight and mind. The place was barely known and always empty, it was a crime! Without him, they might even go out of business! Shaking his head at the thought of such a dreadful thing, he entered the shop, the owner meeting him at the door.

“Big job tonight, Lightfingers?” asked the man, leading him towards the cellar. He was a tall man with a gaunt face, exactly the sort of face you’d expect of somebody who spent most of their time underground, but he was a friendly sort, once you got to know him.

Lightfingers laughed and winked, the same as he had in the barber's shop. “Wouldn’t tell you if I did, but let’s pick out a good vintage for tonight, yeah?”

The store owner laughed, and held open the door so he could walk first down the steps.

-

By now it was lunchtime, and he stopped at his favourite chocolate shop, where he had a small sliced meat sandwich on beautifully thin white bread, and a cup of chocolate from a fine porcelain cup. It was amazing what they could make, these days, he thought, admiring the cup.

He took an hour or so to eat his sandwich and enjoy the chocolate, because he liked this place and they deserved his patronage. He sat in the window so that passersby would see how cool this place was and come in out of curiosity.

It was a shame it always seemed so empty. He hoped they would stay in business. Their sandwiches were delicious.

Mid-afternoon and his altruistic visits done for the day, he started to do some actual work. First, he had to visit a friend of his mother's. The man's daughter worked in the kitchens at the Fig and Berries, and he would be surprised to find somebody she hadn’t spoken to recently, she was the biggest gossip in town.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He helped the man out with a few household chores and then spent a few minutes chatting with his daughter before she left for work. A good girl. She would do well for herself, one day.

After that, he spent an hour or so in the Branch and Claw, a small pub off Bardsway. Then he spent another hour there, and then a third, having accidentally lost track of time.

By now it was early evening and he wasn’t drunk, but he was a little light on his feet. Leaving the lights and singing of the pub behind him, he waltzed happily down the street, towards his favourite dinner place.

Then home, for a nap. He had a job to do tonight, after all!

-

He was awoken from his nap by a knock on the door, the clock on his bedside table told him it was a quarter past ten in the evening. Who could this be? He pulled on his dressing gown and tugged his nightcap over his ears before opening the door. It wouldn’t do for him to get a chill now!

“Hey Lightfingers, got a weird for you.” Thornprick, his friend's daughter, stood outside the front door, shivering a little in the autumn air. He would have invited her in, but his house wasn’t much warmer. He had neglected to light the stove before he went to bed.

Instead, he leant on the door frame, in a roguish and dapper manner. Like a cool mentor. It would have had a better effect if he wasn’t in his pyjamas, but you take what you can get.

“Go on.” He encouraged.

She started at him for a moment, and then started, as if she’d forgotten what she was going to say. “Right. You told us to listen out for names, and there was some kid, 4 or 5 years old, down at the Bull and Fiddle asking for Blueyes. I heard it from…”

He blanked out for a moment as she listed names and relations, culminating some five or six connections deep. He zoned back in towards the end, just as the barrage ended.

“…anyway, they seemed liable to freeze to death, so I had Poppyrose pick ‘em up.”

Lightfingers thought about this for a moment, mulling the situation over in his mind. Ah, a lost babe, maybe even a sibling of his apprentice in roguery! A chance to be a hero!

“You know where Blueyes works?” he asked, suddenly realising he didn’t, and she nodded slowly. He could almost see the machinery working behind her eyes.

“Yeah. I think so, last I checked he works down in the stables at The Bull, on Hedgerow Place. Kid probably went to the wrong pub is all, you want me to take her there?”

She really did know everyone! Lightfingers nodded magnanimously. He would never admit, even to himself, that she was the brains of his operation, he truly believed that she was the smartest person in the city, behind himself, of course.

“That’s perfect, the stables! Give her a meal and put her to bed there, have…” He wracked his brains for a moment over which subordinate to send. “Have Candlewash look after her, she’s a good lass, three sisters last I checked so the babe should be in good hands!”

He threw Thornprick a few pennies to cover the cost of food and care, and she nodded as she turned to leave, “Good luck with the job tonight, Lightfingers.”

He shook his head ruefully, if only she knew!

Good deed done, he shuffled back into the house, feet warm in his lambswool slippers. A few minutes later and the living room stove was going, the kettle on to boil. A cup of tea, a few biscuits out of the tin (a gift from his mother a few days before) and he settled into the cosy wing-back chair.

He yawned, and closed his eyes for just a moment.

-

His alarm went off at midnight. The little clock had been expensive but was worth its weight in gold. Lightfingers made himself another cup of tea and then shuffled around the house for a bit, planning his outfit.

He would go for the flat cap and the new cloak. For his uppers, a ruffled white shirt with a high collar, in an old-style, and a jacket in a rich, deep blue. He had newly cleaned and pressed trousers, in a rich black velvet with no holes in them, and a quick check of the weather outside reassured him it wasn’t raining, so they should survive this trip.

He fastened the cravat around his neck and admired himself in the mirror. Very handsome. The way the candlelight highlighted the scar and caused his black hair to shimmer. He smiled, and blew his reflection a little kiss.

A few more minutes adjusting his outfit, and he was ready to set out.

He got halfway down the street before turning around, heading back home and retrieving the bag of food and the bottle of wine he had set aside earlier. Whoops!

He gave himself one last wink in the mirror before setting out again.

-

He passed by the coffee shop twice before he spotted Blueyes in the far corner. That kid could really do with a bit more meat on him, poor thing. He had lived such a hard life, before Lightfingers picked him up.

Smiling to himself, he slipped into the shop, dropping his penny into the tin by the door. There was a dispenser of coffee and some cups in the corner, but he passed on those, for now, gliding across the room and slipping into the chair opposite Blueyes. His sneakiness made the kid jump slightly in his seat, whoops, but gods he was cool.

Blueyes pushed a cup of coffee towards him, and he took it happily. It smelt almost as good as the one he’d had that morning, probably from the same shipment.

“Good day?” he asked.

“Not bad, got all my jobs done.” Blueyes nodded at him, giving the correct code words for a job done well. “How’re you getting on?”

What a thoughtful lad, if he kept on like this, he was going to go far. Lightfingers took a moment to pull the basket of newspapers towards himself, making a neat little movement with his ankle as he did so.

“Oh not bad, not bad.” He thought about it for a moment, hadn’t there been something… Ah, yes! The kid! “Heard someone was looking for you, though.”

“Oh?” Blueyes was instantly on alert, the tiredness leaving his face, replaced by wariness. Oh no, that hadn’t been his intention at all.

“Mm, some kid.” He seemed surprised, so Lightfingers decided to come at it from another angle, “Came into the Fiddle and asked if you were there, around 8pm?” He took a sip of his coffee, gods this stuff was good. And they gave it away for free!

In front of him, Blueyes frowned, obviously thinking something through, before his expression changed, the wary wariness shifting into wary hope.

“Small kid, girl, about four years old?” He questioned, his voice catching for a moment. Lightfingers felt his heart melt slightly, such things could move even an old polar bear like him! But no, he couldn’t let it show, he had a role to play!

He shrugged, nonchalantly, “Never asked, but the age seems about right. Pub sent ‘em on their way, but,” he reached out, rubbing his fingers and thumb together. The boy wouldn’t expect him to give information for free, nobody gave anything away for free, and it would reassure him to have to pay for it. “I got one of my girls to keep an eye on her.”

He gave Blueyes a stage-wink, but wasn’t sure the lad caught it. He seemed distracted, checking his pockets for change.

Blueyes nodded, handing over his last couple of pennies, and Lightfingers resisted the urge to place a hand over his heart. Such love for a sibling, that he would give up his last coins for their safety!

“We picked ‘em up about an hour ago, they’re asleep in the stables at your Bull, if you wanna claim ‘em.” Lightfingers drained the last of the truly delicious coffee, before standing and grabbing the basket of newspapers, hooking it over his arm in a gesture he then realised made him resemble his grandmother. Oh well, it did no good to second-guess yourself. “Good luck, kid.”

He kicked the bag of food and money towards Blueyes, the poor lad really did need to eat more, and then he turned on a heel, swished out his cape, and left the fine establishment behind.

He hadn’t even checked the basket, just trusted that the map would be there intact. He trusted Blueyes not to scam him, and hoped that his trust was not misplaced. Maybe should have…

Oh well, no point worrying over it, it was too late for that. Sweeping out of the coffee house, he took a left down the alleyway behind the store. Two streets later, the map was safely stowed in the prearranged drop point, with him pocketing his own paper-wrapped parcel of notes in return.

Humming happily to himself, he started making his way home, hearing a scuffle behind him as two rival gangs met in blood and violence. He hoped the map would come out of it untouched, but the lad had wrapped it well from what he’d seen.

All in all, a good night's work.