'You are going to help me acquire something very valuable,' he spoke close to my ear, his breath fanning down my neck.
I looked up at the paintings in front of us, all worth millions of pounds, and then at the spot on the wall where one was missing...
'There's something to be said about the power of persuasion
It's a fine line just waiting to be crossed'
*
Harry doesn't tell me where we're headed but after five minutes of trying to keep up, I figure it out. Chancery Lane. The home of justice. There's an irony to the situation, considering we're about to commit one of the biggest crimes in history, and we're spending our day surrounded by courts and law firms. Maybe that's what he intended.
We walk down a slip road just a short walk from the station, halting outside a garage, away from prying eyes. He stands next to the corner of a building, but nothing is giving away what it is. I'm not too familiar with this area. Harry is checking the area to make sure no one is near, turning to me and inspecting my face. I shrug my shoulders, unsure of what he wants me to say.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. 'Do you know where we are, Atlas?' he asks. I shake my head. 'The Silver Vaults.' Now I know.
The Vaults offer the largest antique and contemporary collection of silver in the world, with pieces dating back to the 17th century. International royalty, film stars and more all frequent these vaults. There's anything from tableware to decorative pieces to jewellery. I've never been, but we've had a couple of shipments from them before when the owners of each independent business inside have found collections that we could sell in collaboration with them. It doesn't happen often, though. Most of these retailers are family run, spanning generations; it's not everyday that you'll find one who will want to give up the glory of owning such historic pieces.
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I don't understand why we're here. Harry usually deals with the finer things, items of much greater value. Some pieces of silver inside this building are close to that, but without a diamond they're unlikely to reach the price points that he works with.
Harry can feel my confusion, taking it as an invitation to speak again. 'I have a proposition. Scrap that, a request,' he explains.
My eyebrows raise, ears pricked up. 'I'm listening.'
He clears his throat stepping closer to me. This is always a sign that he's going to hit me with something that I probably won't like to hear. So I step back, aware of the tactics. 'I want you to steal something.'
My eyes go wide and I can't stop the laugh that escapes my lips at the notion. 'Very funny!' I declare, bashing his arm lightly. He couldn't be serious. The look on his face says he's serious, though. He's scratching the back of his neck, an apologetic expression displaying on his features. My mouth drops open slightly. 'What the fuck, Harry?'
He rushes towards me, hushing my voice to make sure no one notices. This time I don't protest his hands being on me, if anything my body somewhat calms at the feeling. I hate how easy it is for him to get his way. 'It's nothing too crazy, I swear.'
