“Hello? Why are you here?” The man opened the door cautiously. “Hi, I’m looking for...Julie” Brian was looking at the mailbox when saying this. There was a letter sticking out of the top, with “Julie” handwritten on the envelope. Julie probably wasn’t around. The house looked empty enough from when he was walking up to it, so it was probably just the man.
“Oh, she’s not here. You should come back tomorrow, she’ll be around in the morning”. The man said. He looked troubled. Maybe he suspected a scam. Brian thought for a second. This would be the only chance he had get anything valuable.
As the door began to close, he put his foot in and said, “She wanted to buy these” He held out a couple of pills. This is Soliris. It treats the immune system, to stop the body killing its red blood cells. Julie needs this, otherwise she will die within the next week.”
The man’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know about this” he whispered.
“Well, you'd better buy some up real quick, because people's lives are depending on it. Call her to confirm”. The man nodded and left for the kitchen. Visibly hurrying, he left the door open just a crack. Brian saw his opportunity and slipped in. He had time, but it was limited. The man would soon find out that it was a scam, and slip out. Probability dictated the valuables were hidden near their bedroom, which was through the hallway, on the right. He could see the bed as soon as he stepped in to the hall. Into the bedroom, now, and he could see a necklace draped on the right nightstand. As he was going towards it, the he looked over at a picture, sitting by the necklace. There was a child playing on swingset drawn on it, kind of like the swingset he had when he was a kid. Brian felt a little pang of remorse for doing this, but he quashed it with thoughts of the money he could get with the necklace. Did it have gold? Yes, with a red stone. Might be a ruby. Whatever, it was enough to sell and get more cash. Wait. Hadn’t the customer gotten off the phone? Where was he? The house was suspiciously quiet.
He crept back out of the bedroom, down the hallway, now feeling the adrenalin thumping through his ears. Each light step down the floorboards was a crash, with an audience that would let out a terrible groan, as though he was making a bad joke on late night tv. Where was the man? The kitchen was empty. His eyes started scanning around him. Kitchen empty. Dining room empty. Hallway empty. Staircase empty. He had to get out of here. Cops were close, if not here already. Time to get out of here.
They’d expect him to get out the front door. Some half-crazed thief, semi-cognitive, incapable of a clean getaway. He could fool them. He would go out back, through the alleys, out the side streets, and into the city. Blend in with the thousands of people hurrying about their business. As the door creaked open, he ran out. Ran into the bushes, past the whirling lights and sirens, down the cracked concrete, and into one of the sidewalks.
As Brian walked through the streets, he would stop at a bus stop, where he had left a shirt, then at the next stop, a coat, and the one after, a hat. Soon, he resembled either a particularly shabby individual or one of the many homeless scattered around the city.
He breathed a sigh of relief. This was it, he could sell it, he could get out of this crusted s***-hole of a life. Walking forward now, with a hint of pride. Never mind the appearance, he was going to get the money to turn his life around.
He started walking down the boulevard, on the sidewalk, getting to Mark’s place. Mark was the fence, and hopefully he could get about five thousand dollars cash for the necklace. That would be enough for about a week’s supply. As he neared, the whine of sirens got louder, until he could see several police cars near Mark’s front business, a flower shop. Huh, they couldn’t be there for Mark, he thought. He had hidden his tracks well as well, so they wouldn’t be here for him, either.
He skipped the front entrance and went cautiously through the squeaky back door, listening for possible police radios. He could hear some, but they were still in the flower section of the shop. That presented an opportunity: should he check out Mark’s stash of priceless jewelry, and possibly grab some before the cops figured out how to get through? There was only a few seconds to find out.
He opened a dilapidated supply closet and slid aside the crumbing false wall to reveal another door, pointing to a basement floor littered with safe deposit boxes. After running down the stairs, he grabbed a couple, stuffed them into his coat, and went back up the stairs, just as the police broke in.