Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 57

The Right Way to Do Wrong

by Technomad

A week later, the whole thing had been set up. Several of the St. Trinian's girls in the vicinity had large enough homes to accommodate everybody who wanted to come, and the date had been set for a time when no adults would be about to interrupt or run to the law. Refreshments, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, had been laid on in abundance, and the girls were eagerly awaiting the boys from Roanapur.

When Harry and Dudley entered, they were greeted with a wave of applause, and many flirtatious looks. Hermione noticed the way some of the girls were looking at her friends, and said: "Easy, girls. Both of them have girlfriends back at our school. If you don't fancy being turned into toads, don't try for them." Harry was amused to notice that some of the girls looked disappointed…and some of them looked like they sensed a challenge.

"Hullo, everybody," Harry said. "I'm Harry Potter, and this is my cousin and all-but-brother, Dudley Dursley. We're Housemates of Hermione, here, at our school, Hogwarts. I don't know how much you know about Hogwarts…"

"More than you might think," put in Helen with a smile. "Meet Esme Creevey. Two of her brothers go to Hogwarts. And Jane Finch-Fletchley's cousin goes there, too. What one of us knows, we all know. Don't worry, boys…" she added, seeing their worried looks, "we know how to keep secrets. Grassing to the rozzers gets you a short and unpleasant future at St. Trinian's."

"Well, that's a relief!" Dudley grinned. "Same goes for Roanapur, although things are fairly open there. Nobody is keen on drawing the attention of the world to our quiet little town and its peace-loving citizens." Everybody gave very knowing chuckles. Harry thought of how someone like Revy Two-Hands, or Sergeant Boris, would react to being called a "peace-loving citizen." If he was any judge, Boris would merely grin rather sardonically, while Revy would almost certainly laugh herself nearly sick. When she wasn't angry, Revy was usually pretty fond of a good joke. Of course, her sense of humor was very dark, and not to everybody's taste.

"So, you want us to tell you about how to do real-world crime?" said Harry. "We're willing enough to tell you what we know. We haven't been deeply involved, but we've seen a great deal in our years in Roanapur."

"Paranthetically," Dudley put in, "be very careful about 'testing yourselves' against Roanapur! On the main bridge leading into the city, there is a noose attached. It's there as a warning. Roanapur will gobble you up alive if you go there less than 100% prepared, or without adequate intel on who's who and what toes are safe to step on." The girls nodded. Many of them had notebooks on their laps, and Harry noticed that they were apparently taking everything down in shorthand. He thought that would be a useful skill, and made a mental note to see about learning it.

"As for crime itself," Harry said, "the first thing to remember is: 'Keep It Simple, Stupid!' Your caper was loaded with style and panache, but they don't give points for style! At the end of the day, at seventh and last, your objective is to be free and clear, with money enough from your caper to justify its expenses and effort."

"When planning out a crime, break it down into manageable, do-able chunks. Any crime that involves steps that you can't or won't take is one you shouldn't try. That's one way to wind up in the rozzers' hands," Dudley said. "And involve as few people as possible. I am not running your solidarity or loyalty down, but the beaks are good at breaking people down. You don't know how good they are at it, and best pray that you never have the occasion to find out."

"And while we're on the subject," Harry picked up the tale, "always be sure to have your solicitors' numbers handy! Never say anything to the Old Bill without your solicitor present!"

The girls looked very serious. Previously, they had apparently thought of crime as a lighthearted sort of affair, sort of an upgunned version of a schoolgirls' jape. Hearing Harry and Dudley, whom they respected as professionals in the field, speaking so solemnly of possible bad consequences seemed to have sobered them.

"As girls, you have certain advantages that we lack. Most men are likely to be at least somewhat instinctively protective of you, and unwilling to believe the worst of you without very clear evidence. Take advantage of that, but don't count on it to be a perfect shield. Many police are women, and most experienced coppers are well aware that women can be just as dangerous and evil as men." Harry was amused to see that Dudley's words had perked the girls up considerably. "And you have another advantage; you don't look or dress or talk like street slags. The Beak are middle-class themselves, and tend to take a middle-class appearance more or less at face value. No matter how 'cool' or 'metal' or whatever it may be, don't lose your respectable look if you're involved in crime." He paused for breath for a second. "As a matter of fact, being able to 'get lost in a crowd of one' is an advantage to a criminal, just as it is to a spy. Memorability can be your worst enemy."

"Another thing," Harry said, remembering what he'd read in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. "Do not, whatever you do, require members of any organisation you form to wear a special tattoo or clothing! Being caught with that sort of thing is like a signed confession."

"It's also good to have goals," Dudley said. "From your first day in crime, you should be planning your retirement. Way too many good people get hooked on the adrenalin, or hooked on gambling, and stay on long after they should have bowed out. Too many of them have ended up in prison, or dead after having crossed the wrong person."

"That's a good point," Harry acknowledged, nodding to his cousin. "If you're in crime, you're always rolling the dice, with your freedom and life as the stake. No matter how often you roll lucky, sooner or later Snake Eyes come up for us all. Better by far to have saved up your money and retired to a comfortable safe place before that time comes. Bone up on extradition laws and treaties, and be careful where you commit crimes, and what crimes you commit." He grinned. "Many…most…countries won't extradite unless you've broken their laws. Or if extraordinary pressure is put on them." He shrugged. "So be careful whom you brass off."

"And to expand on what I said earlier about adrenalin," Dudley pointed out, "too many criminals get into The Life, or stay in it longer than they should, because they get hooked on the adrenalin rush. We know very well how exhilirating it is to reach out and chuck the Grim Reaper under the chin and get away with it. But that's an activity that can only lead to one end. Remember what we said about Snake Eyes! If you just want thrills for thrills' sake, there are a lot of better ways to get them. Skydiving, scuba diving, skiing…"

"Dating," Harry put in, provoking a startled laugh from the girls. He regretted saying it, though, since several of what he'd been told were called the "Posh Totties" were now giving him frankly speculative looks, and some other girls who were wearing more makeup than the others were openly playing with the buttons on their shirts, as though they were contemplating removing the garments.

"Easy there, ladies," Hermione put in. She had been just as interested in the lecture as the others, but had clearly decided to set back and let the boys have the floor. However, she now felt that it was time to intervene. "Remember what I said earlier? They're both yummy-luscious, but they both have girls back at our school that've staked claims on them…Dudley, more than Harry, but they both are spoken for. Anybody fancy a new life on a lily pad?"

When reminded of just what sort of school Hermione, Harry and Dudley attended, the St Trinian's girls' faces went rather pale, and their eyes widened. The girls who'd been toying with their buttons stopped it, trying rather conspicuously to look completely innocent. Harry made a mental note not to let himself be caught alone with those girls, though. While he was by no means opposed to a few adventures with willing girls, he had decided that he wanted to restrict himself to girls with magic. He had learned that magicals, unless killed, lived far longer than Muggles, and he did not want to get too involved with someone who would die and leave him bereft.

And then he wondered just who had "spoken for" him. For a second, Ginny's face flashed through his mind, and he found himself smiling. The redheaded girl seemed to be the sort of person who could take Roanapur in stride, which was, in his view, an essential prerequisite in a would-be girlfriend or wife. Not that he was in any hurry to get married!

Hermione said: "Keep your crimes simple, doable and involving as few people as possible. Don't get greedy, or conspicuous."

"Ah, yes, conspicuousness! Thank you for reminding me!" Harry put in. "Being well-known is the kiss of death for any criminal. Once the public knows your name, it's only a matter of time before you get collared, or killed. To the rozzers, it becomes a matter of 'face.' Jesse James, Billy the Kid, Al Capone, Lucky Luciano, John Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, John Gotti…all of them loved the limelight, and all of them paid a heavy price. Your goal, should you take up crime, should be anonymous excellence."

` "Think of mastery in crime the way you would wearing sexy underthings, girls," Hermione said, provoking a chorus of giggles from the girls and blushes from both boys, as they involuntarily flashed on an image of their audience all decked out in lacy skimpies. "A secret, shared with, at most, a few close friends and those with an absolute need-to-know, but not to be flaunted on every street corner." Some of the heavily-made-up girls grinned at the last words. Harry privately thought that they would not look out of place in one of Roanapur's more high-class brothels, but prudently kept that thought well to himself. He had noticed many times that even the most mercenarily-inclined women did not appreciate being compared to prostitutes. And while he and Dudley (and Hermione) had their wands, that was all they had for weapons, and they were badly outnumbered.

"The ideal sort of crime, by the way, is the kind that most people don't mind." Harry paused to gather his thoughts for a second. "One reason that the gangsters were able to get such a huge foothold in the US during the 1920s was because most Americans did not think that alcohol should be illegal, or even if they did agree with the basic intent of the law, did not think it was much of a crime. They were willing to, at least, look the other way…and many of them were customers of bootleggers themselves. Had the gangsters been doing things like robbing people, they would have had a much harder time staying free."

"Other examples of that would include dealing on the black market during and after the war. Just about everybody did it, at least to some extent, so the 'spivs' who facilitated it were tolerated by 'respectable' folk in a way they would not have been before." Hermione smiled as Harry and Dudley turned to her, their eyebrows raised in surprise. "What? I grew up hearing about that from my grandparents. They lived through it! They didn't take some things off the bloody rations until the early '50s!"

"If you can find an illegal activity that isn't badly-thought-of by a lot of people, is profitable, doable, and that you can do without a large organisation, inconspicuously, you have a gold mine." Harry finally summed up. "Now, we get into the areas it's well to keep out of. And, much though I hate to say it, your caper involving the painting would qualify."

"Unique objects," Dudley pointed out, as the girls all looked thoughtful, "are the Devil to fence! Back in the 1600s, Colonel Thomas Blood planned to steal the Crown Jewels of England. They were supposed to be worth a hundred thousand quid, but Blood said after he'd been caught that he'd have counted himself fortunate to get six thousand for the lot. Whether it's artworks, individual gemstones, or anything like that, once it's known to have gone walkabout, anybody you approach to try to sell it knows that you've pinched it, and has an excellent motive for grassing on you." He paused and took a sip of his Coke. "And cutting up jewels often damages their value…that is, if you can find a competent, trustworthy gemstone cutter. Artwork, like The Girl with a Pearl Earring, you can't even do that to."

"Even ordinary jewels are often a pain," Harry said. "Fences know that they've got you over a barrel, and no fence ever born is going to offer you full market value for what you're offering him…or her!" The girls nodded, getting the point. "The best thing to steal, if you must steal directly, is cash. Cash is instantly fungible and spendable, although it's a good idea to not spend it immediately; the serial numbers may be on record. Taking it across a national border can often help. And, to come back to a point we made earlier, don't splash it around like sailors on shore leave unless you've a very good, very reasonable explanation about how you acquired it! Many a criminal, many a spy, has been tripped up by living better than his or her known income could cover!"

"So if we can't live large, what do we do with the loot once we've got it?" came a question. Harry smiled.

"The best thing is to invest the money, gradually, and once you've got enough invested to support you in the style you prefer, retire. Remember what we said about planning for retirement? There's no need to risk your life or freedom if you have all the money you need to live well."

"But how do we invest the money?" asked Helen. "It's a little difficult to just walk into an investment broker and drop a big wadge of ill-got dosh on the table!" Harry and Dudley both nodded in agreement. "Do you know who could handle investments for us?"

"Not offhand, but our employer, Miss Balalaika, would certainly know. She might be able to help out herself, and she's one for training and mentoring the young. We can write to her and ask her for recommendations."

"Miss Balalaika's really clever, girls," Hermione put in. Her eyes shone with heroine-worship. "Even though she's Russian, she runs the biggest, most dangerous organised crime group in Roanapur, and everybody respects her! When I grow up, I want to be like her!" Harry wondered how Balalaika would feel about having acquired a would-be disciple. He hoped she would be pleased.

Helen stood up. "And, with that, we'll have to call it a day. We do thank you boys for taking your time on your holidays to come and tell us about this. You've given us a great deal to think about." The girls all clapped politely, and the gathering became purely social. Harry and Dudley found themselves in demand as dance partners, once someone started music playing, and Harry was grateful for the time he'd spent learning social graces under Balalaika's critical, knowing eye.

Some days later, Harry and Dudley were startled to receive a letter from Thailand at the Granger residence. "Oh, looks like your mother and aunt wrote you," said Hermione's mother. "After breakfast, you'll want to read it. I hope it's not bad news!"

Once safely ensconced in their guest bedroom, away from prying parents' eyes, Harry opened the letter. Sure enough, it was from Petunia.

Dear Dudley and Harry,

We found out that you were invited to meet Miss Granger's sister's schoolfellows from St. Trinian's. Both Balalaika and I are sure that you comported yourselves as gentlemen, and were credits to Hotel Moscow.

We were very interested to find that Miss Granger's non-magical sister goes to St. Trinian's, and that she was down for it herself before her magical skills became known. St. Trinian's has a unique reputation, which has reached all the way out to Thailand. If any of Miss Granger's sister's school friends are looking for summer work, or a place to spend a 'gap year,' we are sure that places could be found for them here, either in the employ of Bougainvillea Trading, or one of the other businesses that make Roanapur their headquarters.

The report we got spoke glowingly of your teaching skills and your clear-headed approach to matters. If, upon leaving school, you do not wish to continue in the magical world, or with your soft-drinks venture (and may I say that was a stroke of genius in itself?) you may be able to get teaching positions at St. Trinian's. While the staff there are mostly female, there are exceptions, and young men of your abilities should be able to obtain employment there.

Here in Roanapur, we've had a bit of excitement over a stray counterfeiter, but all is quiet now and the damage is being repaired. Dutch is annoyed because his dockside building was damaged; luckily, he does have insurance that covers that sort of thing. Nobody you know was killed or badly hurt.

Please wish Miss Granger, and her schoolmates, a Happy Christmas, and pass along the word that opportunities exist for them here. Your loving mother/aunt Petunia.

At the bottom, in Balalaika's firm, neat hand, was an addendum.

Boys, while I am very gratified to find that you've learned so much from me, I must say that passing so much useful information along to the girls of St. Trinian's strikes me as rather like running guns to the Apache in the old days. Ah, well, what's done is done, and I may get some useful employees out of this. Balalaika.