Ink Portals

Cat burglar

32

Genevieve Laurent hugged the outside wall of the hotel, peering in through the second floor window. It was late afternoon and she was partially hidden in the shadow of the building. She balanced precariously on a narrow ledge right outside the window, adjusting the handbag that contained her stilettos; she had taken them off in the alleyway behind the hotel - in her experience scaling the wall of a building was best done barefoot.

The occupants of the room had left the curtains open. She could see shopping bags on the coffee table. Bags marked with designer logos.

This was going to be a good haul, she thought.

The couple renting the room were apparently some famous reality stars from America, or so Genevieve had heard from the tabloids; that meant there were going to be some expensive items up for grabs. She made sure the guests had left the room, squinting through the window while cupping her hand over the glass to cut out the glare.

A gang of paparazzi was loitering outside the hotel's front door, patiently waiting for a photo of the couple leaving the building. Genevieve adjusted her footing on the ledge. A pebble came loose from beneath her bare foot and clicked on the sidewalk two stories below, luckily the door men were too busy warding off the mob of photographers to notice. She glanced down and saw the couple coming out through the hotel's front door, shielding their faces from flashing cameras. A bodyguard held open the door to a Range Rover waiting to whisk them away. The car sped away down the street, pursued by more paparazzi on scooters.

From atop her perch Genevieve watched the chase until they turned a corner and disappeared from sight, then she turned back to the job at hand and tested the window by pulling at the frame. It was locked. But there was a smaller window just above it that had been left open just a few inches. Genevieve's pupils slanted into thin, feline slits as she reached up and put her gloved hand into the small opening. A clumsy ball of something moved under her clothing, making its way up her arm. She stood on the tips of her toes, getting her hand as far inside the window as possible. The bulge under her clothing migrated up to her wrist and a slinky grey cat made its appearance. It slid out of her coat-sleeve, then flattened its supple body just enough to squeeze in through the gap in the window. The cat kept its hind legs hooked over the window frame, sliding down its front paws on the glass and then leapt down into the room.

Genevieve glanced back down at the street. The mob of photographers had started to dissipate. Nobody had spotted her up on the ledge, not yet, anyway.

Inside the room the cat flicked its tail soundlessly, surveying the decor in the kind of judgemental way that cats do.

"Hurry up!" Genevieve said, with her face pressed up against the glass.

The cat licked its paw, looking in her direction with a loathsome stare. Then it lazily moved up onto the window sill. Genevieve motioned at the lock, impatiently tapping at the glass with her finger. The cat jabbed at the latch with its paw until it clicked open.

"Merci," Genevieve said, crouching down and stepping into the room. She turned around and closed the window behind her. She patted the cat's head as she strolled by, then set to work ransacking the shopping bags on the coffee table. Most of it was clothing, nice, but not what she was looking for. Her eyes reverted to normal and her little helper vanished into a sprinkle of cat hairs on the carpet.

Genevieve headed into the bedroom where she cheerfully emptied the contents of the closet and bedside drawers, piling everything up on the bed. She sorted through them, tossing items of value into her handbag and discarding the rest. She found a fancy Rolex in the bedside drawer and grinned as she bagged it. From the drawer at the other side of the bed came a diamond ring, she was now smiling ear to ear. She frowned as she inspected a tacky golden necklace from a suitcase at the foot of the bed; it was the bulky kind that only new money would even consider buying - but it was heavy and it was real gold, so in the bag it went. She tossed other less-valuable items aside, like a spoilt child cherry picking through a toy chest. Inside the closet there was nothing of great value, she did notice a nice pair of high heels tucked in the corner that made her gaze linger for a moment, but she decided to pass.