This is one of my stories from Suppose: Drabbles, Flash Fiction, and Short Stories.

The accomplice is trained, the victim is targeted, and then the mark’s wallet disappears. Our pickpocket has everything figured out. Or does he?

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Larry hung a freshly painted notice near a busy intersection:

CAUTION!
Thieves operate
in this area

He stepped back and admired his bright yellow-on-black handiwork: a perfect forgery of the official alerts the police department had posted in other parts of the city.

Every man who spotted the sign touched a pocket to make sure his wallet was secure. Once Larry knew where the wallet was, his scantily clad female accomplice went to work. The heads of most men whipped in her direction as she paraded by: tight mini-skirt, spike heels, low-cut blouse made from a semi-transparent fabric.

Ingrid would drop her purse, revealing her cleavage as she bent to retrieve it. Or she’d sidle up to the man and compliment him on his best feature. Sometimes she’d bat her mascara-heavy eyelashes and ask for directions to a nearby sports bar.

Ingrid’s cool voice, hot body, and enticing perfume created the perfect diversion. When the victim wasn’t paying attention, Larry dipped into the man’s pocket, relieving him of his wallet. It always worked. Even priests fell for the ruse.

But that sultry afternoon in June took an unexpected turn.

A red-haired mark smirked when Ingrid approached him. He groped her, pulling her blouse off her shoulders. Then he pushed her against the wall. She struggled and tried to remove the pepper spray from her purse. Unsuccessfully. She pressed her lips into a firm line of determination and kneed him in the groin.

The redhead stumbled away, grinning.

Larry puzzled over the man’s attitude. Was someone on to their scheme? He gazed at passersby. Some rushed down the street, massaging their phones with their thumbs. Others hurried to unknown destinations, jostling with their elbows to push through pedestrians. A blind man tapped by with his service dog.

Guess it wasn’t a police sting.

He frowned and placed his hand on Ingrid’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah. No big deal. I got rid of the creep before he could hurt me. You get his wallet?”

“No wallet, but I cleaned out his pockets. Let’s knock off for today.” He slipped her a fistful of bills. “Here.”

Ingrid straightened her disheveled clothing, grabbed the cash, and slid it into her purse. “Pretty good afternoon, considering.”

“Yeah, but we need to find another corner. That guy might be back. I’ll text you later with a new location.”

“Sure. Whatever. I gotta get home to my kid, anyway.”

Larry watched her wiggle toward the bus stop, the clicking rhythm of her sexy stilettos fading into the din of traffic. He sighed and opened the plastic box he’d lifted from the redhead’s pocket.

His pupils dilated.

The box contained a huge blue gem. Looks like a diamond.

His eyes closed while he dreamed of cruises, hot women, and a penthouse suite.

Could it be genuine? If anyone can spot the real thing, it’s Jakob.

~*~

The pawn-shop door clattered shut behind Larry. The seedy joint was empty right now, but he could still smell the sweat from the last guy who had tried to weasel money for some trinket or other.

Jakob, well-known fence and fixer, raised his gaze from his computer tablet. “Whatcha got for me today? The crown jewels?”

Larry shrugged. “Maybe.” He opened his fist to reveal the treasure in his palm.

Jakob took the gem in hand. He squinted with blue-grey eyes. They widened. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose, grabbed a monocular from under the counter, and held the sparkling object a hand’s breadth from his face. “Where’d you get this?”

“You really wanna know?”

Jakob swore. “It’s real.”

“Then why do you look so mad?”

“You been watching the news?”

Larry snickered. “Me? News? I was watching a movie marathon last night. What’s so important about the news?”

“This is the Glasklar Diamond. It was stolen from the Kristall Collection last night. I can’t fence this.”

“Why not? It looks like it’s worth a heap of dough.”

“It is. That’s part of the problem. But it’s too well-known. And it’s also cursed.”

Larry snorted a laugh of derision. “Oooooooh. Jakob believes in ghosts and magic and weird things that go bump in the night.” A burst of wind pushed the door open for a heartbeat. Larry flinched. “You need to get that fixed. Might let in some scary monsters.”

Jakob ignored the sarcasm. “The legend says that if this gem is stolen, the thief will be punished with a fate worse than death.”

“Oooooooh. Now I’m cursed and my teeth are gonna fall on the floor before I drop dead with a heart attack.”

“I said a fate worse than death.”

Larry huffed. “Like a lifetime with my ex-wife?”

Jakob continued to study the gem, nostrils flared, fingers twitching. “If I believed every crappy rumor about cursed jewels, I’d be poor and on the street.”

Larry cocked his head. “Yeah. And you could have invented the whole thing just to knock down what you’re gonna pay me. What does the legend say about getting rid of the curse?”

“If the thief returns the diamond to its owner, or another person willingly takes it from him before the sun sets, he’ll be spared.” Jakob pursed his lips. “This was stolen during the night and the sun is about to …”

Larry’s ears couldn’t process whatever Jakob said next. A wave of nausea consumed him. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his stomach.

Unfamiliar voices floated toward him: pleading murmurs uttering prayers of repentance.

The nausea passed, only to be replaced with an icy pain that radiated to pore and bone. Glassy planes of brilliance reflected giant blue-grey eyes peering at him from every direction.

Jakob’s voice boomed, reverberated, amplified. “Larry? Larry, where are you?”

Larry peered out from his faceted prison of glittering blue inside the diamond. He screamed. His scream boomed, reverberated, amplified. It mingled with the melody of despair from the other thieves who had dared to covet the jewel.

~*~

Jakob continued to stare at the gem. He had waited a lifetime for something like this: unequalled clarity and color, like a faceted planet filled with countless universes waiting to be explored and conquered. His eyes closed while he dreamed of cruises, hot women, and a penthouse suite.

He gazed around the shop, muttering as he wondered what had happened to Larry. He shrugged. “Guess I must have lost track of time while I was looking at this.”

He stowed the diamond in his safe. “Finders keepers.”

—

You’ll find more short fiction like this in Suppose: Drabbles, Flash Fiction, and Short Stories.

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