Based on characters created by Monkey Punch.

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"Hey, Lupin," called Daisuke Jigen upon entering the dingy hotel suite that was their temporary center of operations. "I checked it out, and everything's set for tonight... Lupin? You here?"

He followed the answering "In here" into the next room, where Lupin sprawled supine on one of the beds with his face buried in an old pulp hardcover; twelve or fifteen others of similar size and vintage were stacked precariously on the nightstand.

"Everything's set."

"Good, good," said Lupin without moving.

Jigen seated himself on the bed opposite, marvelling as always at Lupin's ability to relax so completely before a big job. "What're you reading?"

"The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar!" Lupin declaimed, clasping the book to his chest and drawing out the title with a grand gesture of his free hand. "I saw these in the window of a little bookstore," he chattered on, "and I simply couldn't resist. The proprietor might have noticed their absence by now, but of course he won't remember the bearded gentleman who browsed his stacks this afternoon..."

"Haven't you read all these before?" asked Jigen, idly picking up and flipping through The Eight Strokes of the Clock.

"Of course! But I like to go back and look over Grandpa's adventures from time to time. His bravery, his ingenuity—his sheer style!" Lupin was off on his favorite subject. "I tell you what, I dream of pulling off half the successes he did. A master of the trade! Did I ever tell you about how he took the diamonds of the Duchesse de M____, right out from under Inspector Ganimard's nose? Of course I did. It was magnificent! You see, Grandpa had the idea to..."

Jigen lit a cigarette, leaned back, and let Lupin relate once again the drama of the famous M____ diamonds, his high voice resonating in the small room with each familiar chapter of the intrigue. He picked up one or two of the books and glanced at the frontispieces. Not much resemblance there, but then this guy was probably just some artist's model. He wondered if the author of these memoirs had given Lupin the First a cut of the profits, or if the publicity was its own reward.

"…And you know what else, Jigen?" Lupin had apparently finished his story. "Hey, Jigen."

"Huh?"

Lupin turned over onto his stomach and looked across at Jigen right-side-up, sock-clad feet carelessly dangling in the air behind him. "I noticed something new when I was reading the stories this time."

That got Jigen's attention. "A new technique from the old guy?"

"Better than that," answered Lupin, laughing. "I noticed that I have something today that Grandpa never had, not in his whole illustrious career."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Lupin grinned mischievously, and said simply: "You!"

"Hey, come on, I'm not that old," Jigen countered with mock offense.

"That's not what I meant!" Lupin reached down and tossed a shoe at Jigen—the precious novel stayed safely on the bed—then looked him in the eyes and went on earnestly. "Grandpa never had a partner in crime."

"Really?"

"That's right. He had friends outside of crime, and, at one point, his organization covered all of Europe. He was certainly a great thief. But he worked alone as much as he could—he just hired muscle. Whenever he was planning a great scheme, or when he got into a scrape, he always counted on himself. Me, though," Lupin mused, "I know I can count on you. So in a way, I guess I'm even richer than the great Arsène Lupin."

Jigen abruptly felt the need to shade his eyes with the brim of his hat. "Cut it out," he muttered, "you're making me all sentimental."

"Well,"—Lupin turned onto his back again—"just a thought. What time is it?"

"Six."

Lupin grinned upside-down at his partner and cracked open his book again. "Good! Old man Zenigata isn't expecting us for six hours. Try The Crystal Stopper, Jigen, it's fantastic."