The Met Job
by Francis Delgardio 

Rupert “Rue” “Mac” MacLenhan was probably the best thief in the world, so it was extra degrading to be working as a bread delivery boy in the city after a lifetime of good heists. To add to the humiliation, Rue Mac didn’t even work for any company, just delivered bread wherever he could convince people to buy it.

Fortunately, the “Met” Metropolitan Museum of Art was a good reliable customer, and the museum curator Dignan “Diggy” “Gettin’ Diggy With It” Durkstein always brought plenty of lunch meat but never remembered to bring bread. Rue Mac and Diggy were sort of getting to be friends, at least as good a friend as you could make in the gypsy bread-delivering business.

The security guard waved him past with a tired nod, and a fart. Rue Mac strode through the museum, admiring the pretty canvases and naked women statues, but to him they all spelled one thing—green. Here was money, just hanging on the wall or sitting there looking like it was thinking on a tree stump, or going number two. It was hard to turn off that thief lens of his after years of hustling.

He started into Diggy’s office, but paused when he heard the man talking on the phone. It sounded like some sort of conversation with another person using a phone.

“…it’s worth maybe $3 million, I’d say,” said Diggy. “No more than $10 million anyway. So I’m worried we won’t have enough security, considering it’s worth almost $18 million. That’s why I’m calling you. $30 million, tops.”

$30 million? thought Rue Mac. That was a mouth-watering number. Almost a pants-pissing number. Maybe $45 million would be worth peeing himself, it was hard to estimate, he had gotten a little rusty.

“So, can you supply the extra security?” Diggy asked on the other side of the door. Rue Mac was about to answer when he remembered Diggy was talking to the phone guy. “What do you mean no?!? What happens if this thing gets stolen? Some thief, or group of thieves, each specially catered to the job, will be $35 million richer! I won’t have that! I’d lose my job!”

For $35 million, it would even be worth coming out of retirement, despite the risk of imprisonment. But robbing the Met, even with minimal security, would take more than one aging and ball-busted thief like Rue Mac. It would take a whole team, a group of thieves, each specially catered to the job. But what a job it would be. $35 million to split four ways, five ways at the most. Six ways, tops. No more than ten ways, surely.

“It’s what?” he heard Diggy again, on the other side of the door. “That’s incredible! I had no idea the thing was worth that much! Wow. $45 million.”

Rue Mac silently peed himself and started putting his plan together. Yeah… it could work. Four guys, an inside job, using the deli next door as a front to tunnel in. He would need a dynamite guy—Richie Morton was pretty nice, generous and complimentary. He would also need an expert with explosives. Vito “Dynamite” Scarpelli would do for that. Some muscle would help; he would have to work out a little before the job. And he supposed he could hire Ox Fitzofitz, he was a trustworthy big guy, and could also serve as the driver. That left one thing: A tunneler. And with a job worth $45 million, there was only one guy he could call on to tunnel for them.

Dignan “Diggy” “Gettin’ Diggy With It” Durkstein.

For more of this great story, buy Francis Delgardio’s novel
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