Spaghetti Invasion

The Making of a Thief

Twelve-year-old Sarah Mae Wentworth did her best not to frown in concentration as she "brushed by" the target, a lifelike mannequin. Swiftly, her fingers reached into the pocket and extricated the mobile phone she suspected was contained therein, trying not to jostle the mannequin enough to set off any of the motion sensors sewn into its clothing. When no bell rang to alert her watchful father of a failure, Sarah internalized a sigh of relief and moved onto the next task.

Casually, her fingers dipped down inside an outer pocket of the mannequin's suit jacket, relieving her makeshift victim of a PDA. So far, so good, she thought and made the circuit of their seedy apartment returning to pick the right pocket.

Her left hand snared a satellite phone. Sarah turned and approached her target from the rear, aware of what appeared to be a slim wallet outlined by the mannequin's derriere. Slowly, deliberately, Sarah retrieved the items her father had hidden in various places of the mannequin's clothing.

Eventually, all ten pockets were emptied of the mannequin's worldly goods; a business card box, a money clip, a personal uplink server, phone, wallet, watch, PDA, money belt, even a pair of cufflinks. All of the standard businessman accessories of this past-ultra, postmodern age eventually found their way into Sarah's possession, until her father declared her efforts successful.

She handed her cache over with pride, knowing she'd never need to do that particular exercise again, except perhaps to teach another her tricks one day. This was the School of Ten Bells and Sarah had graduated to become a professional sneak.

Her father enveloped her in a hug, not bothering hiding his proud smile. "Well done, Sarah. That's ten times you've been silent the whole way. You did it, Kiddo." Slippery Sam secured his daughter in an embrace.

"Thanks, Sam." Sarah allowed herself a moment to relax in the celebratory hug before she stepped back.

He released her and disappeared around an island that separated the kitchen from the living room, returning with a paper bag. "You graduated, so I got you a present." Sam's eyes were misted over and Sarah knew something momentous was about to happen. He handed her a gift-wrapped box from the paper bag.

Sarah's eyes widened. The box had been professionally wrapped by an expensive shop; whose name was on the tag. It was a first in Sarah's life. Up until this point, all of their gifts to each other had been relieved from someone else and modified by the giver.

Slippery Sam had been 'home schooling' his daughter since she'd turned four, teaching her to pick locks and work electronics, to pick pockets and steal briefcases. Just like that, eight years later, she'd graduated? Suddenly nervous and excited, her fingers shook as she carefully opened the box, trying not to ruin the wrapper.

"Oh, open it, Sarah. This is your day." Intent on her box, Sarah didn't look up but Sam's voice was impatient and nervous, a rare thing for the man who made his living, his life, waiting for opportunities. Ordinarily, Slippery Sam exuded calm, confident patience. He was the epitome of charm and grace.

Obediently, Sarah opened the box and withdrew a black velveteen pouch. She tipped it, spilling the contents into her palm to reveal a silver colored object, imprinted with the word SWITZMAN. Underneath was a line of ten tiny bells and an engraved inscription.

"To my daughter on the occasion of her graduation," Sarah read aloud. "You have been given the tools to make the best life possible for yourself. Use them well." She looked up at the man who raised her, his moist eyes in sharp contrast to the grin on his face. "Sam, this must have cost a fortune. Thank you!"

"Open it up," Sam prodded, "I made it just for you, Baby-cakes." She opened up the tool to reveal the usual tools built into one side of the pair of all-in-one pliers, screw drivers, small scissors, rasp and so on. Sam had modified the other side however. He'd added removable lock picks, an electronic soldering iron and several other specialized 'tools of the trade'.