Chapter 20: Receipt of Stolen Property
While Chitose made her unhappy discovery, Liam Armstrong sat in a back corner booth in a mediocre seafood restaurant in Wall Market, nursing his coffee and waiting. His empty briefcase rested beside him, ready to be filled with what would, Liam hoped, renew his financial fortunes. He watched the entrance surreptitiously, noting the various customers coming and going. His contact was late. That was bad form. Maybe there'd been a problem.
But then a familiar face with his own briefcase walked boldly through the door, scanned the dimly lit space, and strode over to the booth. Liam's acquaintance didn't skulk or hunch his shoulders or try to make himself inconspicuous. The man was too professional for body language that would surely draw attention to him if anyone were watching. Instead, he acted exactly like any other innocent customer meeting a friend for lunch.
"Hello, Robie," Liam said as the man sat down across from him.
"Armstrong." Robie nodded and tipped his flat cap.
Why John Robie—who had made himself quite comfortable financially over the years—insisted on wearing unfashionable hats bewildered Liam, who had moved on to more sophisticated attire years ago. But then, Liam had also moved on to more socially acceptable and prestigious means of making a comfortable living. Had he stayed with his old line of work, maybe, just maybe, he'd still be wearing the silly affectations of his youth, too.
Then again, Liam had known better than to wear an expensively tailored silk suit to the Wall Market, and was himself dressed down in what he considered rather shabby clothing. He'd had to make a special trip to a chain menswear shop to find his current cheap outfit. The dingy trousers and sweater weren't comfortable at all, but at least he didn't look like an easy mark. Robie's thinking had probably been the same.
Robie was a top notch cat burglar. The best. He usually specialized in "acquiring" jewels, precious coins, art, rare types of materia, and other luxury collectibles from the wealthiest dwellers of the upper plate. His current assignment probably had him baffled.
Liam smiled at the thought. "You brought it?"
Robie opened his briefcase and took out a floppy, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.
"Let's see it," said Liam.
"Dunno why you want this dumb thing," Robie grumbled. He partially unwrapped the package, displaying the dog-eared cover of the Barely Legal, Harvest Time Special! adult magazine.
"I want to see the centerfold," Liam insisted. "Not just the cover."
Robie didn't move his head, but his eyes darted around the restaurant.
"No one's looking. Not in this place. Come on, Robie, you know the drill. Show the goods and you'll get the rest of your payment when I've verified it's all there." Though keeping his voice down at a low, conversational level, Liam felt a bit of exasperation. It wasn't like he was a wet behind the ears kid just starting out. He'd chosen this dumpy little eatery specifically because no one would care what kind of reading material a customer indulged in with a cup of coffee.
Not that anyone would really care anywhere in Wall Market. The place was synonymous with sleaze and criminal activity.
"Fine," said Robie. "Look for yourself." He slid the magazine across the table, packaging and all.
"Don't worry. I won't grab it and run."
Robie snorted.
Liam had already given Robie a handsome down payment for the job. It wasn't like he'd stiff Robie. The cat burglar would get the rest of his gil as long as the magazine was original and complete. Liam's finances were still solid enough to buy a burglary job, at least. Just not solid enough to keep Katina and himself in the luxury to which they'd both become accustomed.
Liam pulled a pair of gloves from a pocket and put them on to protect the magazine from his skin oils, then flipped through all the pages. Good. Nothing torn or missing. Just expected wear from age. And then he studied the centerfold. Yup, it was the same as the picture Katina had shown him. It looked perfect. No fading or smearing, despite all the careless female fingers that had probably pawed at it a few nights ago.
"Excellent," he said, closing the magazine and replacing it in its packaging. He took off his gloves and slipped them back into his pocket.
"Yeah, yeah, you've got your pervy porno," said Robie. "Never knew you were into this sort of thing."
"My wife wants it desperately," Liam said truthfully. Not that Katina would ever get her hands on it, or even know about it. The Barely Legal, Harvest Time Special! magazine had a far higher purpose than to serve as his wife's drool fuel. "It has a celebrity in it that she follows."
"Huh. You spoil that woman too much." Robie clearly didn't believe him. "So, your end?"
Liam pulled out his phone and tapped a banking app that he had set up specifically for this particular purchase. The account, registered to one George Ishii, contained the exact amount required for Robie's final payment. A few more taps, and the entire balance was transferred to an equally fraudulent account to which Robie had exclusive access. When the transaction completed, Liam ran another program to close Ishii's account, delete it, and wipe the access log entries. Only a data forensics expert would ever be able to find a trace of it.
Liam had not only maintained his old contacts, but all his old accesses and tools, as well. One never knew when certain knowledge and skills might be useful.
"There you go," he said. "Check it. It's all there."
Robie reviewed the data on his own phone and nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said, standing. "Don't be such a stranger."
Liam knew he didn't really mean it. "Until next time," he said, watching as Robie departed the restaurant.
He transferred the package to his briefcase and signaled a waitress. "I'd like to order the crispy fish sandwich," he told her. "Tartar sauce, no pickles. Plus an iced tea with extra lemon."
She jotted it down. "Anything else? Does your friend want anything?"
"He had a bit of family drama come up and had to leave to take care of it. I'll be eating alone, I'm afraid."
"Too bad," she said sympathetically. "Your lunch'll be out in a few minutes." She left to go place the order with the kitchen.
Liam sat back in the booth. Stage One accomplished. He had the porno. It was, he reflected, fortunate that he'd moved so quickly to obtain the Barely Legal magazine. Who could have known that a censored version of the centerfold would be blazoned across the public landscape in a crummy tabloid?
Chitose would have almost certainly locked her precious porno up in a bank safe deposit box as soon as she realized the whole world knew about it. That would have made it too inaccessible for a quick, easy theft. What a close call. He would have never gotten hold of it if he'd waited even another day.
Fortune favors the bold, as the old saying went, and Liam was nothing if not bold when he set his mind on a tangible goal.
In any case, despite the awful timing, The Midgar Mirror had done him a great favor. They had provided free advertising and piqued interest by publishing the centerfold, even with the necessary edits for half-hearted decency. Potential buyers, collectors, and rich, conscienceless fanatics were sure to have noted its existence and would be looking for ways to acquire the original magazine.
The waitress returned with his sandwich and tea. He thanked her; she smiled and left again.
Stage Two would be to actually put the thing up for sale. Liam knew just the right auction house, one that dealt in rare merchandise and didn't ask questions about undocumented, unverifiable history and inadequate proof of ownership. He needed to wait for a while, though, for things to cool down. Considering the identity of that centerfold model—Michael Stevens, really? Liam snorted in ridicule. As though such a pedestrian fake name would fool anyone!—the Shinra Company would also be on the lookout for the magazine. The company was so predictable, especially when it came to protecting its image.
Liam let out another snort, less amused this time. Shinra really would do anything to protect its public image. Anything. Everyone with underworld connections knew of Shinra's excesses when covering up corporate misdeeds. Unlike the rest of the population, Midgar's criminal factions were under no illusions about the company that had built their world.
He needed to be more than cautious. He needed to be paranoid, and keep close watch on the shadows.
For now, Shinra would be preoccupied with their tabloid public relations disaster. Too preoccupied to track down Robie, who never left any traces or clues behind after a job. There were good reasons why Robie had never been caught.
A month or two ought to be enough time to wait for the sale. Liam really couldn't afford to hold off longer, financially speaking, and besides, all the trails should be cold by then. He could unload the magazine and walk away, counting his gil.
With satisfaction that had nothing to do with the flavor of his sandwich, he finished eating, left a handful of gil on the table, and departed with his briefcase.
Note: Some of you may have recognized John Robie as the male lead from the movie "To Catch a Thief" (1955) with Grace Kelly and Cary Grant. It amused me to include him.