Anyone can rob a jewelry store. Well, anyone with two arms, legs, and a pulse. However, what separates a thief from a burglar is finesse. While technically anyone could’ve stolen like Robin Hood or Arsene Lupin, it was them that possessed the great skills and intellect needed to elevate it from a robbery to a work of art. Now, I may be committing a crime and breaking into a building, but do I look like a burglar?
It was in the middle of night. Me and Blake were standing in front of a luxury jewelry store entrance wearing black hoodies with black backpacks. As we walked to the door, I pulled out a case and unzipped it. When I opened it, a plethora of lock-picking tools appeared. Scanning them, I grabbed a tension tool, a rake tool, and a hook tool.
“We look so suspicious,” I commented as I walked to the front door. Kneeling down, I inserted the tension tool at the bottom of the keyhole and the rake tool on top of it. I gently applied pressure on the tension tool with my finger.
“Just hurry before someone sees us,” Blake said anxiously. He was looking around at a rapid pace.
“Stop looking around, we look even more suspicious,” I told him. I kept wiggling the rake tool up and down and back and forth. I did it rapidly as frustration and fear built up inside me.
“Shit,” I whispered. After a minute of failed attempts, I took out the rake tool from the lock and switched to the hook.
“Shit? What do you mean shit?” Blake asked frantically. “Did you pick it or not?”
“Hush,” I sounded out. “I need to focus.”
I heard him grumble unhappily as my gloved hands began to move the tool. I gently probed a pin in the lock, looking for any kind of feedback. The first pin didn’t have anything, so I moved onto the second pin. I continued for the next few pins until I heard a click.
My heart raced as I realize that I’m almost there. With a final, calculated movement, I seat the last pin, and the lock springs open with a satisfying clank.
Quickly removing my tools, I opened the door. When the door opened, a countdown began to ring. It was the alarm system. I looked over to Blake. He subtly nodded before walking to the alarm panel. We agreed not to speak so that it would be harder to identify us.
According to Blake, there was no way to get into the store without tripping the alarm. The way his, and what he claimed was the standard, was an alarm that ran on power but also batteries. If the power was cut out, it would use the batteries as a secondary power source.
The panel wasn’t connected to the internet so it wasn’t possible to hack it. So we had to do it in person. Blake told me that the code to disable it was a random three-digit code.
So as Blake walked to the keypad, he was faced with a dilemma. There are 1,000 possible combinations but he only had two minutes before the cops were called. So how do you check all those combinations?
Well, really you only have to check a few. Blake took out a handful of sand from a pouch in his pocket. Putting his hand in front of the keypad, he took a deep breath before gently exhaling. The sand was released into the air.
It drifted downward, delicately falling onto the keypad's surface. The idea is that the sand will stick to the buttons that are pressed the most. Blake watched with a hawk-like focus as the sand clinged onto three buttons the most.
Just like that, we narrowed it down to 6 combinations. With an elated smile, Blake began to try all six possible combinations.
In the meantime, I was picking the lock to the backroom. The most valuable items aren’t stored on display but instead stored in the back inside a vault. Blake had informed me of all the different types of vault that could be used, and I had come up with a way to defeat most of them. However, it was only most of them. What lay behind this door was unknown. Just as easily as it could’ve been the ones that I knew how to crack, it could’ve been one that I didn’t know.
With a determined posture, I inserted the rake and tension tool into the lock. My hands were shaking ever since we had arrived into the room. This made picking the lock even harder.
At first, I had opted for the raking tool. After a few seconds, I became frustrated that it wasn’t opening. I knew it would take longer, but the fear of being caught overwhelmed my critical thinking. I switched to single pin picking.
As I was going through each pin looking for feedback, I heard three beeps before the countdown sound stopped playing. I quickly glanced over to Blake. He faced me with lively eyes as he nodded his head. I saw him pull out a mixture of bleach, sodium hypochlorite, and Trigene and start spraying around where the sand had been to remove his DNA.
As the hook moved the pins up, I felt a click. Suddenly, the tension tool gave way and the lock to the door opened. Withdrawing the tools, I stood up and fully opened the door.
The room that was revealed was pitch black. Not even the moonlight from outside was able to illuminate it. Reaching into my sweater’s pocket, I pulled out a flashlight and shined it into the room.
The two of us quickly made our way into the room. In front of us was a massive steel door that belonged to an imposing vault. It was the same model that was in Blake’s shop. A small smile crept onto my face. Luck, while something that you never wanted to rely on in a theft, favored us. They could’ve changed the vault from when they first built the shop.
As I walked up to the vault door, the time we spent practicing flashed in my mind. I took out a thin piece of steel wire and carefully inserted it into the gap between the dials of the combination lock.
I applied slight pressure, feeling for the notches and grooves. My fingers moved with great precision as I listened carefully. Turning the dials ever so slightly, I listened for clicks and felt for the lock’s resistance. Each click signifies a correct digit in the combination.
After what seemed like an eternity, the lock yielded with a satisfying click. With widened eyes and a smile that stretched as far as it anatomically could, I pressed on the vault door. It creaked open slowly, revealing the treasures hidden inside.
People that design vaults mostly work on the assumption that a thief will try to break it with brute force. The designers of this vault focused too much on that and less on a more civilized approach of picking.
Pointing the flashlight around revealed all kinds of valuable gemstones, from gold to emeralds to diamonds. I felt euphoria as I saw all the gemstones. It was akin to seeing an A on a test you studied so hard for, but ten times that.
While we could’ve easily stolen everything in there, it presented two problems. One was transportation. It wasn’t going to be easy to move everything. The second problem was selling it all. The more we sell, the more exposure we have, especially since it’s only coming from one source.
So we only went for diamonds. It was the most valuable stone that was in there by weight. Plus, the laser engraver that Blake owned was designed for diamonds. It was necessary in order to change the serial number of the diamonds in order to sell them.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
We quickly grabbed all the diamonds in the vault. In just two minutes, we had thirty diamonds in our hands. They ranged from half a carat to 3. These small beauties were simply laying in our hands. But they weren’t just gemstones. No, they were cash.
After we were sure we grabbed all the diamonds, we had gotten ready to leave. But before I did, I couldn’t help myself but to put a card in the middle of the vault. The Joker.
Blake looked at me with questioning eyes. I mouthed the word later to him. He reluctantly nodded and we began to quickly make our way out.
On our way, I made sure to close all the doors that we had opened. It didn’t serve a purpose other than to add to the shock factor when they found out, but just imagining their surprise brought me joy.
Leaving the shop, we were quite jumpy. As we walked through the cold night, every footstep drew our attention. A person walking made us subconsciously walk at a noticeably faster pace. This was my first real theft, so it couldn’t be helped.
“Is this what being a criminal feels like?” I asked Blake.
“How am I supposed to know?” he responded.
“But this feeling-” I began, “-it’s exhilarating! I feel so alive!”
Blake placed his hand over his heart. Like mine, it was pumping at an unusually fast rate. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I could feel every contraction in my chest and every pulse in my head.
“I know,” Blake said softly. “But this feels like the beginning of a drug addiction.”
“Why are you such a pessimist?” I asked him. “Can’t we just enjoy this feeling?”
“I do like it,” he admitted. “But besides doing a felony, we’re only doing it because our dads died.”
I stopped walking and paused. For the first time in a while, I had completely forgotten about their deaths. I was too engrossed in the theft to remember my grief. Blake was right, this was a drug. Many people turn to it in a moment of grief. Was what I was doing any different?
“Zack, are you okay?” Blake asked with concern.
“Y-yeah,” I said with an unsure voice. I was aware of Blake staring at me while I shook my head. “Come on, we still have to cover our tracks.”
Blake raised an eyebrow as I began to walk again. “Alright, whatever you say.”
As we turned the corner, we approached a stairway that led to the LA subway.
A big theft like this would entail a big investigation. A get-away vehicle would be trivial to track. But what if that get-away vehicle was also used by hundreds of people who had nothing to do with the theft? A place where potentially thousands mingle, making it easy to lose track of someone.
The subway was a perfect place for this. While monitored, it would be simple to make them lose focus.
Me and Blake headed to the one place that wouldn’t be monitored; the bathroom. Well, at least it shouldn’t have a camera in it. If it did, then there would be a much bigger problem.
I quickly changed my clothes and put on a different pair of shoes and a pair of glasses. Finally, I left the backpack in the stall.
I left and washed my hands while waiting for Blake. When I had finished drying them, he began to walk out. I saw some people give him stares as he dropped the pile of cloth and gloves into the trash can as well.
With a nod, I began to walk out of the bathroom and waited in front of the station. While waiting, I spotted Blake on the other end of the panel.
In order to conclude our act of disappearance, we must become the thing we’re trying to imitate. So, if we go into a subway, we must be a commuter.
As the loud sound of the train rolling on the tracks played through the subway, all commuters stood up. It was a simple part of their routine, an action that they had done hundreds of times. I imitated their mundaneness to perfection. Even though I wouldn’t have gotten found out if I didn’t do it, the only way for you to improve in something is if you try to do beyond your best.
And it was more than that. I felt that something unknown had been compelling me in this theft to do things like how they describe it in the stories. An unknown force was telling me that I should imitate the average person I was trying to disguise as. To become the mark. It was like an instinct that compelled me.
Looking at Blake, it was obvious that he wasn’t a regular. Whereas most people are focused on their personal things, Blake was looking at the train and hesitantly walked forward. He looked around slowly and awkwardly.
The whole ride was uneventful. We both got off at the next station and took different Ubers to his jewelry shop.
All these steps were largely unnecessary, but why would you settle for mediocracy? I felt an unknown sense of ego that prevented me from not doing my best to plan the perfect theft. One where no one would be able to trace it back to me. Even the most seasoned of detectives probably wouldn’t have been able to follow along. And they’re not going to assign anyone dedicated enough to the job to investigate it to that level.
When we entered the store, we immediately made our way to one of the two backrooms. This one, unlike our shared living space, had a laser-engraver in it.
“I believe these are for you,” I said gentlemen-like as I took the diamonds I had out of my pocket. I extended my hand in a graceful and playful manner while bowing my head.
“You’re such a dork,” he commented as he took the diamonds out of my hands. This was his area of expertise, not mine so I’d let him do all the work.
I saw him take out a jeweler’s magnifying glass and carefully examine the diamonds. I saw that he had put all of our loot on the table and sort them depending on their carats and then their serial number.
“Remember to-”
“To completely change it,” Blake completed the sentence. “I know. I may not be good at stealing, but I’m not an idiot.”
I chuckled as I moved a chair next to his. “So, how much do you think these are worth?”
“Well I can’t tell until I examine all of them further. I need to check for impurities and cut, but estimating maybe around 300 to 500.”
I nodded and smiled tiredly. “How long do you think it’ll take to sell?”
He blew out of his mouth continuously, carrying even some of his hair upwards. “Five months? Eight? It’s hard to tell.”
I sighed as I leaned back on the chair trying to rest. I closed my eyes out of exhaustion. “Blake?”
“Hmm?” he hummed.
A small silence followed as I thought about my question. “Do you think our fathers would be happy about what we’ve done?”
Blake paused only for a moment before continuing with his work. It seems that this too was an escape from the tragedy. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “But did we really have another option? This is our last asset and is on the verge of closing.”
“Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence in my skills,” he deadpanned before becoming silent. “You know that they care more about the actions than the reason.”
“But still,” I said, attempting to rationalize my choices. “We didn’t technically steal anything. The money and more was supposed to be ours.”
“I think they would say that they didn’t condone it, but secretly they would be proud we stood up for an injustice.“ I saw a tear form in Blake’s eyes and took it as a sign to drop the subject.
“Should we give a diamond to the homeless shelter?”
“What?” Blake asked. He was too tired to try to understand.
“I mean, one diamond isn’t worth a lot to us when we have 29 others. But it would help a lot of other people like us.”
“We still don’t have enough to pay off the phony debt,” Blake argued back.
“We’re going to have to rob another place anyway,” I said. “We might as well help out other people.”
Blake didn’t say any words, only continuing to examine the diamonds. “Well, it’s your diamonds now so it’s up to you Robin Hood,” he finally teased.
I chuckled as I stood up and walked to our room. “I’m gonna hit the hay. Good night Blake.”
“Night Zack,” he called out. When I walked into our room, I instantly jumped onto my bed. Covering myself with my blanket, I began to drift off instantly.
As my body began to rest from the events of the day, my mind began to drift chaotically. But the one thing I felt in my last moments of consciousness was a strange feeling. It felt as if something had awakened inside me. It didn’t feel dark nor light. I was too tired to be confused, so I just embraced the feeling.
And whatever that … euphoric feeling was, I’d have to get acquainted with it. Even if I hated it, I’d still have to do it again if I didn’t want to live on the streets.
Nothing like the waning of my future to comfort me as I feel asleep.