The shadow slowly crept up the side of the building. There was no one on the empty street below. It was as if the entire city had been deserted. There were no people, no noises and no sirens. Everything was silent.
The shadow stopped at a large window on the eleventh floor. Suddenly, a small light flickered in the night. The beam of light was directed at the window. Some glass cutters were slipped out of a small black bag which was fastened around the figure's waist. Soon the cutter's job was complete and the shadow melted into the building.
Strolling through the luxurious apartment, he searched for the picture. His information was that the painting hung over the couch, but where was the couch? As he entered the living room of the apartment, he saw the large couch situated against the far wall. The man thought, This is the easiest heist I have ever pulled! As he tiptoed toward the couch, he heard a woman's voice outside the front door and he began to panic. He quickly removed the painting from the wall, but to his dismay it wasn't there! There was no safe behind the painting! This meant his whole trip was made in vain and he had risked being captured for no reason at all.
He heard a key turning in the lock.The front door slowly opened. A woman came into the apartment and immediately turned the lights on. The robber dropped the painting, rushed to the bathroom, and hid in the shower. He thought to himself, There is still a chance to escape.
He had been hiding in the shower for what seemed like ages when he heard footsteps coming towards the bathroom. He heard some clothes drop to the floor and then a hand reached past the shower curtain and grasped the faucet knob. The water poured out with the knob turned to H. The man squeezed into the corner of the shower trying to escape the scalding water. The heat was unbearable. Finally, the man let out a horrible wail and flung the shower curtain open. To the burglar's surprise, there was no woman waiting for him. Instead, he was staring down the barrel of a .38.
As the policeman hustled him through the living room, the burglar passed the woman and stammered, "How did you know I was here?" The woman replied, "I saw the hole in the window and I knew something was wrong. When I saw the painting on the couch, I knew someone was here. So I called the police and they came right over. But what were you after?" "The safe!" he blurted out "It was supposed to be behind the painting!" The woman was trembling. "You don't have to talk to him, Miss Ryan,"said the officer.
The crook stopped dead in his tracks. "Ryan! What do you mean Ryan! You mean you're not Irma Livingston?"
"Of course not," replied the woman. "Irma lives upstairs."n
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.