The Girl Thief Page 5

  Vinnie barreled toward her. “Dump?”

  Sammy scooted out the door and pulled out half the sandwich. It was still hot. Vinnie was an ass, but his place made a good sandwich.

  Chapter Ten

  _____________________________

  Sammy lay on the ground as a small crowd gathered around her.

  “You okay, kid?” the guy leaning over her asked.

  Sammy sat up and rolled her shoulders, stiff from the fall. She’d been shadowing a mark for a lunch and dinner snatch, but the lady stepped in front of a guy who was running to catch a bus, and he’d slammed into Sammy.

  The guy was in his early thirties with a dark suit. “Want me to call an ambulance?”

  She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  Sammy nodded. “Didn’t bang my head, just everything else.”

  “You should be more careful, young man,” a gray-haired old lady said. “If it were me, I would’ve broken something.”

  The guy shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t see her until the last minute. It was like she was hiding behind that woman.”

  Yeah, that woman who had her food. The only thing Sammy’d eaten today was a piece of toast. She put her hand out, and he pulled her up.

  “If you weren’t in such a rush…” the old woman said, tottering off.

  The guy scanned the others who drifted away. “Want me to call somebody?”

  Yeah, a takeout food place. Should she ask him for something? He did knock her down.

  The guy looked past her. “That’s my bus. Sorry about that.” He joined the queue entering the bus.

  Sammy plopped down on the bus-stop bench just as the bus drove off. There had to be another way to get a meal. The candy bar from Vinnie’s place was still in her pocket. She’d planned on meeting the twins after school, but Gladys had been stalking them, using them as bait. Sammy had hurled a handful of bearings into a tree Gladys walked under. They’d rained down on her like a swarm of bees. Sammy smiled, recalling Gladys swatting away those bearings.

  A lady sat next to Sammy and fetched her phone, cursing that the bus was ten minutes away. Everybody was in a rush.

  The lady arched her back as if it’d stiffened up on her. Try running into a guy going for a bus if she wanted to know what a stiff back felt like. A thick gold bracelet slid down over the lady’s wrist. It was an older version with a big easy-open clasp. When she was swiping jewelry for Uncle Danny, she’d dream of a clasp like that. A quick pinch and it’d fall right into Sammy’s hands. The links were thick enough to be worth something.

  Sammy’s stomach growled. She smiled, trying to mask her embarrassment. “Can’t wait to get home. Starving.”

  The lady smiled as though she had to, then went back to her phone.

  The bracelet’s clasp sat on the lady’s trouser leg inches away. A distraction was all she needed. “There’s the bus now,” Sammy said, pointing down the street.

  The lady turned to check. Sammy pinched the clasp and pulled it free of the loop, but the links were wedged between the lady’s wrist and leg.

  The lady leaned a little more forward. The bracelet snaked down her leg, snagging on the trouser’s seam. “Don’t see anything.” When the lady leaned back, the bracelet slipped between the two of them.

  Sammy brushed at the bracelet as she crouched up, trying to get it into her lap, but it slipped between the bench slats and onto the ground. “I guess I thought…” There was nothing down the street that looked like a bus. Sammy shrugged and sat back. She toed the bracelet forward.

  The lady glanced back at her, annoyed, then noticed the bracelet was gone. Sammy put her foot over it, not sure she’d covered the bracelet.

  The lady took a quick look around, then hurried off, her head down as she went.

  Sammy waited until the lady was far enough away before she picked it up then scooted around the bench and headed to the pawn shop on Second. Uncle Danny used to go to the place but never let her go inside.

  “Stay here, princess,” he’d say. “These guys are real sharks.”

  Sammy had wanted to see what a real shark looked like. She’d seen all types already, why not a shark?

  He said she wasn’t ready for the sharks.

  She’d hear laughter sometimes and wondered if it was Uncle Danny’s way of disarming the shark.

  The place looked worse than she remembered. It had a door in the middle separating two case display windows. The right one had a crack running from top to bottom, looking as though it hadn’t been cleaned in years. The only thing she recognized was a dusty violin in a broken case and a brass tuba with green tarnish streaks.

  She stepped inside, lingering by the door. The place was dark as if a body were being waked. On the left was a display case with lights humming on and off, giving a weird yellow hue to the junk on display. On the right, hanging on the wall, were different-shaped guitars and violins covered in dust.

  A guy sat behind the counter in the back, facing the door. He looked like Vinnie’s older brother with a toothpick. He watched her without the hint of an expression. He pulled the toothpick out. “What do you want, kid?”

  “Lollipops. Got any lollipops?” Sammy said with a sneer. “I ain’t a kid.”

  Vinnie Number Two stared at her for a second. “I’m all out of lollipops, kid. Try the candy store two blocks up.”

  Sammy thought of walking out, but a set of lockpicks in a case with a booklet caught her eye. It looked like a set that Uncle Danny had when he was working on that magic box. “How much is that?” Sammy asked, pointing to the set.

  He looked down at the case like he wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. “You need a license for that, kid.”

  “What kind of license?”

  “Pixie dust license. What do you think? A locksmith license.”

  “I want it for a magic trick?”

  He studied her, rolling the toothpick. He slid open the back door to the case and lifted the set out, then gently placed it on the counter.

  Sammy ran her finger along the edge of the case. She was sure it was Uncle Danny’s. She leafed through the booklet and stopped at the notes scribbled in the margins. It was Uncle Danny’s handwriting. “I got to have it. How much?”

  He looked down at the booklet, then back up at her as if he wasn’t going to let her have it. “You’re the kid. The one who used to wait outside for Danny?”

  Sammy swallowed. “You remember him?”

  He flashed a wry smile. “Danny was hard to forget.”

  Sammy fingered the booklet. She wasn’t the only one who saw him that way.

  “Is he…” the guy asked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

  Sammy nodded and turned away to exhale. She fished out the bracelet. “This is what I’m using to trade. There’s extra, right?”

  He took the bracelet and dropped it on the scale. “What else do you want?”

  “Money?”

  He studied her. “What do you need the money for?”

  She looked away. “Food.”

  He dropped the bracelet into a drawer and slipped a few bills under the lock-picking kit. “Don’t expect as much the next time.”

  Sammy put the money and kit in her pocket and thanked him. He nodded and sat, looking like he was waiting for the next poker hand to start.

  She stopped into a grocery store and bought cheese, eggs, pineapple juice, bacon, and a jar of the sweet pickles. She just felt like pickles. Sammy swiped an extra package of cheese and a package of sliced turkey. Igor better have a working refrigerator, or she’d be using his.

  ●●●

  Igor sat across from Cindy at the table Sammy cleared off yesterday. They looked chummy enough.

  Sammy put the groceries on the counter and cut off a piece of the cheese. She didn’t know if the cheese was really good or if she was just hungry. “Find a refrigerator, Igor?”

  “Yes, I find working refrigerator. I stopped by to give you th
e good news.”

  “Must be really good news if you’re still here.”

  Cindy smiled. “We’ll be on the second floor, Sam.”

  “I put power into apartment.”

  “I guess I can pop open the pickles, then,” Sammy said, wrenching open the jar. The pickles were good too. She offered them to Cindy and Igor.

  “What kind is this?” Igor asked, examining the pinky-sized pickle.

  Cindy chomped on the pickle. “They’re sweet.”

  Igor shrugged and bit into his pickle. “I like salted ones better.”

  “I’ll put it on my list the next time I go.”

  “You need to get heater,” Igor said, holding what was left of the pickle as though he were going to smoke it. “Latasha and Keisha in the same room is more headaches than I want.”

  “I can’t just put one under my coat.”

  “I’m feeling a lot better,” Cindy said, eyeing the pickle jar. “You can take the heater back.”

  Igor patted her hand. “You keep it until you are better.”

  Sammy cut off another slice of cheese. “I’ll find a way to get you your heater.”

  Cindy smiled, grabbing another pickle. “She’s like a mother hen.”

  Igor grinned. “Does she lay eggs?”

  Cindy giggled.

  Sammy rolled her eyes and cut another piece of cheese.

  Igor stood. “I have to go.”

  “Already?” Sammy asked, pretending she was disappointed.

  “Remember what I said about job. It pays good and people are nice.”

  “If it’s such a great job, why don’t you work there?” Sammy asked.

  “It is only for pretty girls.”

  Sammy grabbed another pickle. “You’d be surprised what a dress and enough makeup can do.”

  Cindy laughed.

  Igor’s expression turned sour. He flashed Cindy a smile and said, “Good night.”

  “Are you going to show me the place?” Sammy asked. “I got food to put in the refrigerator.”

  Igor sighed. “Come.”

  Sammy followed him up the stairs. He walked as if he had weights on his feet. He stopped by the room right above Mama’s. “Compressor works. Anything else I can fix.”

  The last thing Sammy wanted was to be above them. “How about the one on the end?”

  “It is junk room.”

  Sammy didn’t know what that meant. “How about the room next to it then?”

  “Compressor works here. You stay here. It is good room.” Igor opened the door and flicked on the lights. “See?”

  Sammy shrugged. It looked like the other apartment.

  “For what you pay me, it is palace.”

  Sammy put the bacon, eggs, and turkey in the refrigerator, which had a sour-milk smell and wasn’t yet cold. She touched something slimy on the refrigerator door and went to the sink to wash. “There’s no water.”

  “There is leak. Have to find it.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “When I find leak, you will know.”

  “Real specific.” She circled the apartment. At least the door had a lock.

  He trudged to the door and turned back. “Anything you don’t want, put in junk room.”

  Chapter Eleven

  _____________________________

  Sammy, Cindy, and Igor waited inside by the front of the Pleasure Palace Club. It was mostly dark except for the occasional ceiling light. The bar was to the left, and the stage with a pole was at the back wall a good fifty feet away.

  Igor led Cindy under one of the lights. “That is good right there.”

  Cindy’s smile collapsed under a nervous twitch. She rolled her hand inside the other, pressing them against her stomach. She pulled on the sleeves of the dress. It was the high-school dance dress Sammy stole for her.

  Cindy had said she didn’t think she could beg. She just couldn’t see herself leaving the house without makeup. Sammy had shown her a few bump-and-grab techniques, but Cindy couldn’t seem to master the light touch, and if things went sideways, Sammy doubted Cindy could run her way out of it.

  “This is very fine club,” Igor said. “Nothing but the best comes here.”

  “How much do you get out of this, Igor?” Sammy asked.

  “I get fee, and she gets job.”

  “Yeah, but how much?”

  He laughed. “I should ask about big heist.”

  She should never have told him about it. “I need to learn alarms first.”

  “Sensor tripped. Alarm makes noise, simple device.”

  “You learned that from fixing refrigerators?”

  “I was engineer in Russia.”

  “What? A choo-choo engineer?”

  “No, real engineer. Worked on important projects.”

  “Why did you leave if you had such a great job?”

  “Lost job. Here is bad, Russia is worse.”

  “How about disabling them? You know anything about that?”

  “Need schematic,” he said.

  “Where do I get this schematic?”

  “What do I get for helping you?”

  “What do you want?”

  Igor shrugged. “Depends if you want to learn to read schematics or if you want help with just one alarm.”

  “Is there something special about reading schematics?”

  He chuckled. “It is not like reading recipe.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t read recipes.”

  “It is not easy to do,” Igor said, shifting his stance. “Takes many years to learn. Alarms are simple, so it won’t take long.”

  “Sam is smart,” Cindy said. “She picks up on things right away.”

  Igor smiled at Cindy. “If she is smart, it won’t take as long.”

  “You know a book I can get to learn about schematics?”

  “She read that lock-picking book and now can pick any lock.”

  Igor’s lip curled. “So she is one who left open back door for anyone to walk in.”

  Sammy thought she’d locked it. “It’s fenced in. What about a book?”

  “Tablet with holo-screen is better.”

  “They’re hard to get.”

  “If you can steal pills, you can steal tablet.”

  “If I get this tablet, then what?”

  “I will show you for price.”

  “What’s the price?”

  Igor glanced to the back of the place. “I do not know yet. If you are smart, it’ll be one price; if not, it’ll be another.”

  Why did she think he’d be charging the higher price?

  “I am fair, but I do not know how long it will take to teach you. Time is money, yes?”

  Sammy circled around the two of them. “You sure you want to work in this skin joint?”

  “I don’t think I can do what you do, Sam.”

  Sammy couldn’t argue with that. “What about that beauty sculptor thing?”

  “It costs a lot of money.”

  “This imaginary heist will bring all the money you need, yes?”

  Sammy wanted to smack that smirk off his face. “Afraid you’re going to lose your precious fee?”

  “This is real. Heist is imaginary.”

  “You got us this far on your own, Sam,” Cindy said. “Now it’s my turn to help out.”

  “She is good thief,” Igor said, nodding. “If she could only steal heater and keep locked doors locked, it would give me peace with my sisters.”

  “I’ll get you a stupid heater.” Sammy strolled to the bar. Uncle Danny used to do a show at a bar on Fourteenth Street. It was always a midweek show, and if he got paid it was in drinks. That was the beginning of the end.

  “What’ll you have?” Cindy asked, traipsing up behind her.

  Sammy turned to her and smiled.

  “You don’t want to be bartender, you want to be dancer,” Igor said, nodding to the stage with the pole. “It pays the best.”

  “It pays better for you, you mean.”


  Igor sighed. “Yes, I get fee.” He walked along the bar, looking toward the back.

  “Where is this guy? Sitting in the dark by himself with a bucket?”

  “He is not in dark,” Igor said with a sneer. “He is in office. Very busy man, good businessman.”

  “Don’t shake his hand, Cindy.”

  Cindy covered her mouth, stifling a nervous giggle.

  Igor walked back along the bar. “Don’t listen to her. He is honorable man, and this is fine place, very fine place. You have nothing to worry about here.”

  “Yeah, the place looks like a jewel,” Sammy said. Something about it looked old, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. A certificate hung off to the side of the bar. The bar on Fourteenth had one too, but she’d never read it. This one was awarded to Jonathan Schlep, allowing him to serve all manner of things. “Is that Johnny?”

  Igor and Cindy looked as if they were searching for a picture. Sammy pointed to the name on the certificate.

  Igor nodded. “Everything is legal here. No worries.”

  “I take it back about the bucket. It’s a pail, a huge pail.”

  Igor’s lip curled. “She knows nothing. I have been here when it is open. It is fine place. If I had money, I’d come more.” He smiled, gazing at Cindy’s boobs.

  “Eyes off the boobs, Igor.”

  “She has nice tits.”

  Cindy squeezed Sammy’s hand and whispered, “It’s okay, Sam.”

  “When you have nice painting, you don’t put it away in closet,” Igor said. “You hang it in museum for all to see. Same here.”

  Maybe that was why the place looked old. It was a museum.

  “It is him,” Igor said, nodding to a tall guy walking toward them. Igor extended his hand. “Johnny!”

  Jonathan shook his hand as though he wanted to get it over with. He looked like a guy who was always late for something. He was over six feet and skinny but with a potbelly. He seemed more annoyed than happy to see Igor. “What do you got for me today, Igor?”

  How many girls had he brought to this creep? Something about Jonathan’s teeth reminded Sammy of a wolf—maybe the incisors were too long. He had a bad toupee, and he leaned back in his stance as if expecting the world had to do something to impress him.