The Pirate

When you think of jewels, think of me.

I wrote it stylishly on the wall with time-based invisible ink. In an hour when I knew the cops would arrive, they’ll see it. They’ll know who it is for this was my trademark statement after every heist. But they won’t know who it was. They had tried, severally, trust me. And I always laughed at their attempts each time I watched the news. The Crystal Pirate. That was the name graciously given to the thief. That was my name. Pathetic. It was funny how the media unwittingly made villains become heroes with pathetic names. At this point, there was a kind of reluctant worship. The “man” who had gotten away with nine successful heists of priceless crystals.

Man. How original, I chuckled. They found it so impossible to believe that it was a woman who was behind the heists. In the words of the very eloquent FBI spokesman. “We know it's a man. And a very smart and brawny man at that, but we want to let him know that we’re on his heels and sooner or later, he’ll slip.”

I was quite eager to see when I’ll slip too if I do say so myself. But years of rigorous training plus female intuition ensured that I didn’t slip.

But I wasn’t always like this. I was no fan of gaudy baubles and silly gewgaws. No. I loved the big stuff. And what was the big stuff? Diamonds and sapphires and pearls and emeralds. Those undiluted beauties that made people do a bit more than gasp. And the sweetest of them all. Crystals. Those made my mouth water. It speaks to me and I understand it.

But as I said, I wasn’t always like this. But one day, in middle school. We had group projects and had to go to the team leader’s house. My team leader turned out to be the very snobbish Nicole. And when I saw that beautiful crystal pendant on her desk and tried to touch it. Not steal it. Just admire it. She said, “Let go of that. Filth like you could never own it in a million lifetimes.”

It struck me. Yeah, it did. It struck my innocently warped ten-year-old mind. Did I come back six years later to take it? Yeah, I did. But I didn’t just stop there. I rid Nicole’s snobby home and her equally snobby, small-minded parents of more than just that crystal. Wiped their home clean and jewel free in one night while they were snoring in their beds. That should show them what filth was.

Ten years and nine successful heists later, I was ready to call it quits. The bulk of the money had been given to all the charities that had helped me grow up. Just a large parcel dropped anonymously at their front step. The rest had been used to make my life a bit more comfortable. Then Javier, my partner and friend and the only one who knew who I truly was said there was an auction happening in a week and they would just “sightsee.”

I had been about to decline when he said, “Jose will be there.” And my ears perked up. That jerk, Jose. The one and only person I had given my heart to and he not just broke it but ran away with all my valuables. What an amazing stroke of luck. “Why not finish this decade-long heist with a banger?”

And so I found myself a week later at D’eclaires Museum with my fiery red wig, blazing red lipstick and green contacts. Not stealthy by any means but I decided to finish my heist with the actual banger Javier suggested. As I stepped in, eyes were everywhere. The jerk Jose included.


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The auction started and I kept raising my bidder card, pushing the prices higher and higher. Jose, the pompous goat, wanted that particular crystal vase and also kept raising his bidder card. But the problem was, I knew his net worth. And he was definitely heading towards bankruptcy with this purchase. So, I smiled and continued raising my card. When I was sure that he’d have to borrow heavily to be able to pay, I let him have it.

Once, the vase had been rolled back in and Jose was directed on where to pay. I slipped out and went to the back where Javier was waiting. We opened the secret room that led straight to where the jewels were kept. My eye caught it immediately. My final heist and revenge scheme all rolled into one. I wrote my star statement on the wall and smiled with satisfaction and then I reached out and touched the crystal vase.

The alarms blared and I jerked my hand off in horror. “You didn’t disable the alarms??!!” I whisper-yelled.

An equally horrified Javier responded. “I could swear that I did.”

I heard someone chuckle suddenly. And it was a chuckle I’d recognize anywhere.

“You see, I knew it was you,” said a grinning Jose as he came from behind us, holding a video recorder. And in that moment, I knew my end had come.



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