Newspapers and magazines, in Harry Lyme's opinion, were a burglar's best friend aside from crowbars and other tools, like blowtorches.
In a newspaper, you could find leads to inspire you to commit a robbery. It was amazing just how many times an unthinking journalist could write a story, publish it, and it would be read by a burglar.
Things like rare pieces of jewellery, antique cartoon memorabilia being hosted in a museum, a new piece of art being presented in a museum, rumours about celebrities and actors which gave information about their home addresses, small snippets of information nobody really expected to cause so much trouble, and yet because the spark which began the planning and casing, before the real thing. Harry had learnt a lot from his mentor over the years, and the technique with the paper had never failed. And since he and Marv had come to New York with basically zilch, Harry had needed to look through the paper and find something they could use.
Okay, a few things had jumped out at him, but their limited resources meant he and Marv would need to be subtle and choose something simple.
Harry lifted his gaze and immediately began whacking his newspaper at the pigeons who'd settled on the rail of the ice rink next to him. The only reason he had come here, beyond giving Marv a chance to enjoy their freedom, was to look for their next heist.
And he had a feeling he'd found it.
"Get outta here!" Harry snapped as he whacked the rapidly flying birds who had gotten the message they weren't wanted. Harry despised pigeons, to him they were vermin. Rats with wings. "Go on, get outta here! Get outta here! Beat it! Beat it! Get outta here!" Harry lifted his gaze and focused on Marv, wondering how on Earth the idiot had persuaded him to let him go skating; it was obvious the guy didn't have a clue what he was doing, "Hey, Marv! Get over here! I gotta talk to you!"
Marv, pausing to listen, slowly came over. Harry rolled his eyes at his clumsy approach, but he groaned in annoyance when Marv managed to grab a scarf and actually unwind it from a passing girl's neck.
"Whoa, whoa!" Harry flinched as Marv slipped, but he used the rail to haul himself up, holding out the scarf. "Would you like a scarf?"
Harry was frustrated.
How many times had he told Marv they had to lay low? The good news was Marv's pickpocketing was kept to a minimum, but they were still noticeable.
"Wanna forget about the scarf, Marv, we gotta talk. We gotta face facts. We don't have the equipment to pull off anything big: Banks, jewellery stores…"
"Art galleries?"
"Art galleries," Harry nodded in agreement, "We don't have the equipment or the connections to hide stuff. We don't want goods. We need cash and we need it now."
Marv had spotted a kid with mittens attached to a string. "How about…hotels?" He suggested. "Tourists carry lots of cash."
Harry had considered that, but he'd decided against it. They would need to hang around a few hotels for that to work, and they'd be caught in a heartbeat. They'd just escaped jail, they didn't want to make it easier for the cops. And hotel staff would likely watch them like hawks looking for a juicy rabbit.
But at the same time, if things were a little bit nicer, then perhaps Harry would have considered it; Christmas was one of the busiest times of the year, and they were bustling with guests with lots of cash, but the problem was the same was wandering down to places like Time's Square, and spending days picking pockets. They would need a lot of time to get lots of cash, and the chances of being caught meant they wouldn't get away.
No, he wouldn't let that happen again.
No. They needed one single heist.
"No guarantees. I got a better idea. Stores ain't depositing cash on Christmas Eve. The stores that will have cash are the ones dealing in moderate-priced goods," Harry lectured, certain Marv had just taken something else. Idiot.
"Right. Right."
Harry gazed at him in sudden eagerness as he warmed to his theme. "Ergo, what store's gonna make the most cash on Christmas Eve...that nobody's gonna rob?"
If there was one thing Harry loved about being an older burglar, mentoring someone new, it was the chance to teach them what to look for.
Sadly Marv needed more work.
"Candy stores."
And sometimes he wanted to bash their heads in, and crack open the skulls so he would have a chance to see if their brains were even there.
Harry slammed down his eyelids, counting to ten in his head. The problem with Marv was, that while he had his good points, he didn't really think.
"Nine-year-olds rob candy stores, Marv," Harry said. "This is what I had in mind," he grinned as he turned the newspaper around, showing Marv what he had found.
Marv studied the advert showing Duncan's Toy Chest, a slow grin appearing and spreading across his face. "That's brilliant, Harry! Brilliant!" He grinned as he realised the possibilities, and he was kicking himself now for not even thinking about it.
Of course!
Smaller businesses would carry lots of cash, and they wouldn't be as heavily defended as jewellery stores or big banks.
Considerably happier now his plan had been approved of, Harry turned the newspaper back, staring down at the crest of the toy store they were going to rob, fighting the urge to kiss it. "Yep," he grinned, "Nobody's dumb enough to knock off a toy store on Christmas Eve."
He chuckled, checking the address of the store. He and Marv would have to take a look at the place and plan out how they were going to make the heist work, they'd have to check for security, and the general layout, and come up with a decent plan to get in and get out, and they'd need a way to get out in case things went wrong.
"Oh, yes, there is," Marv made him look up, and he caught his friend's infectious grin, and he pointed at Harry, then himself, and winked. Harry winked and nodded back, chuckling as he gazed down at the ad again.
-8-
The moment they laid eyes on the red brick building which read on the outside, Duncan's Toy Chest, Megan and Kevin both wished they had grown up in New York rather than Chicago. If they had, they would never have left this place.
The limo driver wore a professional but extremely warm smile as he gazed at the siblings, "Here we are, sir, miss," he said with a dramatic pause as he gestured to the shop, "Duncan's Toy Chest."
"I've never seen a toy store like this before," Megan whispered. She might be a little too old for toys, but she wished she had known this place.
"Merry Christmas, Kevin," Kevin said.
Upon thanking their driver, the McCallisters walked inside the store, her eyes widening in awe. The place was like Santa bringing his workshop to the public. Megan's eyes widened as she spotted a small miniature train going around in a circle. The Christmas theme was everywhere, with toy dolls showing Santa and his elves, toy soldiers, and smaller trains - she was amazed when she heard the mini train whistling - small planes, and ordinary toy lines.
All around them were kids, slightly older and younger than Kevin, grabbing stuff quicker than the store's staff could replace.
"This is the greatest accident of my life," Kevin breathed as he gazed around in awe.
Megan chuckled. "Close your mouth, buster," she smiled, "we've got shopping to do."
-8-
Upstairs, Harry stuck his head out of the little house he had found.
"Marv." He said as loudly as he could, hoping the customers just assumed he and Marv were pals, inspecting the houses for their own kids, "Marv!"
Marv stuck his head out of his own window. "Hey, nice house. But there's no bathroom in it," they both froze when someone walked past. "So, what's the plan?"
Harry and Marv had got here only an hour ago. They had gone over the security systems and formulated a plan…and then suddenly, all of their brainstorming had come to an end when they had seen for themselves these little houses. Harry had changed his mind about some of his plans, and he'd come up with something new.
"Everyone leaves for a holiday off," Harry said. "We come out of our houses."
"Yeah, then what?"
"We empty the registers and walk out like we own the joint."
"Great plan, Harry!"
-8-
The McCallisters had just finished their shopping and were going to the cashier. The man at the till, a cheerful-looking old man with curled white-silver hair, and wearing an immaculate suit smiled after his last customers and turned and smiled at Megan and Kevin.
"Let me see," he said as he took in their purchases. "You two shopping alone?"
If there was one thing he hated, it was seeing children alone. He liked making sure they were safe, well cared for.
"In New York? I'm definitely with my little brother," Megan replied.
"Sir, we're afraid of our own shadows," Kevin added.
The man blinked, "I was just checking. I don't like young adults hurt," he said.
Megan smiled gratefully, "Thank you," she said genuinely, pleased he wasn't a creep like that hotel manager (she was not looking forward to dealing with him again, and having to find a way to phone her parents, but they had the number for the hotel somewhere, and if not then she could find it somewhere else), and seemed to genuinely care.
The man spared her a warm smile. And she smiled back; there was something extremely warm, gentle and loving about this man.
Kevin was taken by it, too. "That's very responsible of you," he said.
"Oh, well, thank you," the store colleague said.
"My pleasure."
The man had just finished ringing up their purchases. "That'll be $23.75," he smiled, but he gawked in awe as Kevin casually took out the money envelope and handed over the cash, a quick glance at Megan showed her indifference to this display. "My, my, my. Where did you get all that money?"
Megan prayed Kevin didn't say anything stupid.
"We both have a lot of grandmothers."
Megan caught on, and she snorted. "That's putting it mildly, Kev."
"Oh. Well, that explains it."
Kevin, worried this man was going to be like the hotel guy, looked around. "This is a nice store. One of the finer toy dealerships I've visited."
"Mm, definitely, it makes me wish our family hadn't moved to Chicago; if I'd seen this place at 8 years old, you'd need crane to haul me out!" Megan said seriously.
The store colleague chuckled at her words, and his face showed how deeply happy he was to hear them say such things. "Well, thank you," he said.
"Mr. Duncan must be a nice guy…," Kevin went on, unaware that Megan had already guessed this man was Duncan, "…letting kids come in here and play with his toys. Most toy stores prohibit that."
The man looked affronted as if he couldn't believe anyone in the profession could be so cold. "Is that so?"
Kevin nodded seriously, "Yes."
"And you would know, wouldn't you?" Megan said, before turning to the store colleague she was sure was Duncan; she wasn't sure what it was, but everything about him screamed shop owner. "He was told off several times a few years back, and he swore never to walk into those shops ever again."
"Neither would you if they were jerks," Kevin said. "But I love this place," he said at the same time Megan retorted, "I never said I agreed with them, Kev."
"Well, Mr Duncan loves kids. As a matter of fact, all the money the store takes in today…," he went on, unsure of why he was even saying this in the first place, "...Mr. Duncan is donating to the Children's Hospital. And the day after Christmas…," he went on excitedly, "...we empty out all the money in the cash register and Mr. Duncan takes it right down to the hospital."
-8-
Mr Duncan had been in the toy business a very long time. And he loved it. He loved children, loved seeing their happy expressions whenever they laid their eyes on a toy. When he had set up the deal with the Children's Hospital, they had been over the moon. Not only did he get the chance to personally donate toys to them, top-of-the-line, quality and safe toys, but he also gave them a fortune to help the hospital find ways to help them.
Duncan wanted the hospital to look for new methods of treatment to help the kids, however they could; he wanted them to discover new surgical treatments, new therapies, and he had invested a great deal of money into making them look for them.
At the same time, he didn't just hand the kids toys.
Oh no, he made sure to give them toys specifically designed and made for them to want to learn. He had given them puzzles, which would take them a while to put together while exercising their brains. At the same time, he and his wife held and attended fundraisers to raise the money needed to help their causes. In return, the hospitals helped him find other children to help, and it worked.
And he loved kids. Especially these two. He had just made some conversation, and while he was shaken that others in his profession could be callous, he wasn't surprised. Some people were like that. And he genuinely liked them both. One was a boy, likely no older than 10 or 11, and the other, a girl who was likely 18, somewhere around that age. They were really nice and polite, but he sensed both of them had a spark inside them that made them natural rule breakers, but he didn't care. To him, rules were there to be broken. And children loved pushing boundaries. Ah, if the world were children, then things would be better.
"That's generous of him," the blond-haired boy commented.
"Well, children bring him a lot of joy…," Mr Duncan said, remembering all of those times he had helped children in pain, "...as they do to everyone who appreciates them."
Megan tilted her head, seeing something in his gaze that made her wonder. She could see pain and sorrow in his gaze, just about hidden…and she wondered what he had seen. She glanced down at Kevin, seeing enough on his face to notice he had seen it, too, and he was so touched he pulled out some more money.
"I'm not supposed to spend this, but I have $20 in a jar in our garage…," Kevin rambled, although whether or not he was lying even Megan could not tell, although she knew he was lying about how they came about getting this money, "...where my brother can't find it. So I can pay my mother back. So give this to Mr. Duncan. The hospital needs it more than I, I'll probably spend it on stuff that will rot my teeth and mind."
Megan gaped at him. Kevin loved the wealth of their family, she had never imagined him to be this generous. There was more to him than she'd expected.
Mr Duncan chuckled, looking at the children in front of him kindly. "Ah, that's... That's very sweet of you," he said, realising there had to be a better way of repaying them for their kindness. And then it came to him. "You see that tree there?" He pointed at the tree on the counter next to him.
"Yes," Megan replied.
"Well, to show our appreciation for your generosity, I'll let you select an object from that tree, to take home with you," Mr Duncan said, his eyes travelling over the tree, looking for something meaningful.
"For free?" Kevin asked.
"Of course for free," Megan said, inwardly cursing her brother's bluntness.
"May I make a suggestion?" Mr Duncan said, recognising they'd be here all day.
"Sure," Megan said, looking like the same thing had occurred to her.
"Okay."
"Take the turtledoves," Mr Duncan carefully took them down from the tree.
"I can have two?" Kevin asked in amazement.
"Well, "two turtledoves,"' Mr Duncan said, "And I tell you what you do. You keep one…," he wasn't impressed these two didn't seem to know of this, and he asked himself what they taught at school these days, "...and give the other one to a very special person. You see, turtledoves…," Mr Duncan tried to think of a proper way to describe how to say all of this, "...are a symbol of friendship and love. Now, as long as each of you have your turtledove..," he smiled, "...you'll be friends forever."
The looks on Kevin and Megan's faces were awestruck.
"Wow, I never knew that. I thought they were just part of a song," Kevin commented.
"I didn't know about this either," Megan said. "Makes you wonder what else about Christmas we don't know."
"Yes, I was wondering about that, my dear," Mr Duncan said to her, and then he turned his attention back to Kevin. "And about the turtledoves being a part of the song, well they are. And for that very special reason."
With that he handed the turtledoves over to Kevin, who took them gratefully. Megan smiled sweetly between them, thinking it was rare to see Kevin like this. "Wow. Thanks. Merry Christmas," Kevin smiled.
"Merry Christmas to you too," Mr Duncan said warmly.
"Thanks, Merry Christmas," Megan smiled. Her smile widened when Kevin said, "Make sure to bundle up if you go outside. It's nippy."
"Oh. I'll do that."
Just as the siblings were leaving, they caught sight of a portrait, with the plaque reading Mr Duncan. It was the same smiling, grandfatherly man wearing the same kind-hearted smile on his face.
"I knew it!" Megan grinned.
"You knew that was Mr Duncan, but why didn't he say?"
"I don't think it matters much, Kevin," Megan said, "Let's just be glad he's a good, kind man. Now come on. We have a lot to do."
"True," Kevin said, and they walked outside.
"Hold on, where's the limo?" Megan asked in surprise. They'd left the car standing outside right here. But now it was gone.
Kevin was just as perplexed. "I don't know. Do you think there was a parking problem?" He jumped on a likely possibility.
Megan looked around, seeing that the road was rather busy. That made sense, but was it usual limo driver protocol to just leave their clients standing on a street like this? "Maybe," she said, but she tried to smile at her brother. "We could wait for him, but let's not spend a whole day out here. There's a whole city to explore."
"Yes!" Kevin grinned at her, slipping out a map of the city. "Well, Miss Megan McCallister, where do you want to go?" He asked in a mock grown-up, posh voice that had her laughing.
"I dunno," she managed to choke out and leaned over his shoulder to examine the map.
-8-
Harry and Marv both left Duncan's Toy Chest. Harry felt good about the world. They had found the perfect place to commit a heist that would solve many of their problems in one magnificent sweep. They had a plan in place, now they had time to kill before they got back in time for closing time. Harry had the time written in his notebook. All he and Marv had to do was time themselves and then get back to the store.
Piece of cake.
"Well, where to?" Harry asked Marv in a reasonable and amicable tone; Marv had gotten on his last nerves recently, but now they had a plan in mind, he was more cheerful.
Marv noticed the change and shift in Harry and took it with delight, especially since they would soon be committing a burglary that was bigger than anything they'd done before. "You promised you'd take me to the Central Park Zoo," he said, already looking forward to the trip.
But Harry wasn't listening.
He had just seen someone.
He had been looking around the street casually when he had spotted two people, two kids, one older and the other younger. A boy and a girl, who had long brunette hair. She looked quite pretty. He had seen the elder one's face, seeing her side profile, and he recognised it. He had seen it before, in passing but he recognised it.
But it was the younger one who caught his attention the most.
"Hey," Harry nudged Marv, "look who it is, Marv," he pointed at the boy and the girl.
Marv's eyes bulged and popped out of his sockets before he began chuckling.
"Come on, let's get him," Harry snarled.
The two burglars walked over to the two kids. The elder girl didn't notice their approach as she and her brother examined something between them. This was gonna be easy.
Making sure his shadow passed over Kevin's shoulder, Harry spoke in a loud, exaggerated cheerful voice that hid the menace there. "Hiya, pal."