Masquerade

Nineteen

I blink. ‘You’re fucking what?’

‘I’m a jewel thief,’ he says slowly and clearly.

‘What the hell does that mean?’ I demand.

‘It means I target and steal the rarest, most precious stones on earth.’

‘So if you rob a safe and there is cash in there you won’t take that as well?’

He shrugs. ‘I would but it would not have been the cash that drew me there in the first place.’

I shake my head wonderingly. ‘So you’re a criminal? A common criminal.’

‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ he says totally unfazed.

‘What other way is there?’

He shrugs. ‘It’s a semi-conscious form of social revenge.’

‘Social revenge? Semi-conscious?’ What the hell is he on about? I am so stunned it kind of all goes over my head.

‘Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that the distribution of wealth in society is wrong to begin with? The outrageously rich are outrageously rich only because they have employed a variety of legal and illegal ways to steal from the rest of us. All I’m doing is righting the balance.’

The breath comes out of me in a rush. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, perfectly. I am a predator, but only to the ultra ritzy, rich vein of society. The ones that surpass me at thievery. Coming down to wine and dine at magnificent tables laden with silverware and fine food they sometimes find I have set a place for myself.’

‘So it’s not like, why work when I can steal?’ I ask sarcastically.

He spreads his hands out. ‘There is an element of that.’

‘This is a profession where you can’t keep the pot boiling too long. Sooner or later you will get caught. You do know that, don’t you?’

He smiles. ‘I know that. Master criminals are the stuff of fiction. They don’t exist in real life. But in the end, it is just the one life. What’s more important? How many breaths you take? Or how many moments take your breath away? My conscience is clear. I will die a peaceful man.’

‘It’s wrong. You’re stealing from people.’

‘Believe me, I choose my targets very carefully. The reason I have never been caught is I always leave a souvenir, a little tape of them misbehaving, behind. Catch me and the souvenir becomes public. These people are liars and cheats and pedophiles for whom the loss of a piece of jewelry is equivalent to you dropping a glove in the park. Sometimes they stage their own break-ins many months or even years later and collect the insurance anyway.’

I frown. ‘Shouldn’t you be giving this information to the police, especially about the pedophiles?’

He laughs bitterly. ‘When I made the first tape I was still young. It shocked and horrified me and I thought the world should know what this world leader was up to. I sent copies of the disgusting tape anonymously to the police and the media. I waited for days, and guess what? Nothing happened. Everything went on as before. We live in a sado-masochistic culture, Billie. It is a curious paradox of our society that no section of it is more addicted to sadistic behavior than those entrusted to prevent it: the judge, the police commissioner, the cop, the prosecutor, the politician, the industry leader, the media mogul… They cover for each other.’

‘So you are like some sort of Robin Hood?’

‘That’s one aspect. There is another more compelling aspect. I do it because danger is a compulsion for me. Even as a child I was always what the psychologist would term chronically bored. I needed more stimulation than others. I was glue sniffing, smoking, drinking, fucking anything in a skirt, taking drugs, fighting, indulging in random acts of vandalism, and motorbike racing just to chase away the boredom. The first time I stole I was sixteen. There was a very large house at the end of my street where a widow had lived alone. When she died her children began fighting over the will and it had been empty for some years. I broke into it one evening.

‘It was as if I had entered Miss Havisham’s house in Great Expectations. All dust, drawn blinds, silver candelabras and antimacassars. But I can never forget the thrill of that first plunder. My mouth was dry, my heart was racing: the rush of larceny is like an orgasm, only better, so much better. I grabbed a bottle of brandy, a crystal ornament, and rushed up the stairs. The first door I opened was a bedroom. I opened a drawer and rifled through a woman’s silken underwear and felt almost dizzy with excitement. The sexual stimulation combined with plunder was indescribable, a feeling that was to stay with me all my life.’

‘And that’s it? You just became a thief at sixteen?’

‘Stealing is like any other profession. There is an art to it. It’s not all shinning up drainpipes and creeping into gutters. You’ve got to master the craft and use your brains. I learned very quickly that I had to fit in perfectly with my victims’ backgrounds—Mayfair, Belgravia, the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo, 41st to 43rd Street in New York, an English stately home, the Sydney Opera House, Ascot Races… You are never a suspect. You blend in with the wealthy, the famous and the greedy. Finding the right victim is paramount. The anticipation of the heist is like an imminent orgasm. The frisson of excitement before, during and immediately after a coup is indescribable.’

‘And you made all your money by stealing?’

‘No, I made a great deal of it by investing in the right properties. Mostly in London.’

A thought occurs to me. ‘So you stole the blue diamonds you gave me?’

‘No, I bought those.’

‘Why buy when you can just steal?’ I ask suspiciously.

‘There is a protocol attached to selling stolen jewelry. Pieces have to be broken down to their parts so they are unrecognizable. In fact, offloading rare gems will soon become impossible once they are laser printed with their own signature markers.’

‘How does Ebony come into the picture?’

‘I almost always work alone, but occasionally she will undertake some small part.’

‘So she’s not your girlfriend?’

‘For a while she was. For a very short while. It was a mistake. Pleasure and business don’t mix… You’re the first person I’ve ever told this to. I know it must be very hard for you to understand.’

‘I once stole a rocking horse from Mamas & Papas,’ I say quietly.

He frowns. ‘Why?’

‘At that time I couldn’t afford to buy it and I wanted it for my godson. I didn’t feel bad doing it—I knew that big companies like that have an allowance for pilferage. It didn’t have a security tag on it so I just picked it up and walked out with it.’

‘Ah, the most important trick of larceny. Bottle! The more blatant you are the more lawful it looks. Do it in broad daylight and carry a card that identifies you as a Fire Prevention Officer.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘I don’t know. Meeting you has confused me.’

‘Confused you how?’

‘I haven’t worked it out yet. Let’s just take it one step at a time, OK?’

‘OK,’ I say quietly, but joy is bubbling up inside me like a little fountain of water that has found its way from deep underground into the sunshine.