The Lightfoot Burglar

Victoria stepped into the sunny New York day with definitive purpose, her steps weaving expertly through the busy sidewalk. With one hand, she held a little black book and read its pages with fierce resolve. The other hand wound tightly around the handle of a hefty briefcase that tapped against her long pencil skirt.

“G’morning, Miss Victoria!” a voice called. She glanced at the young man behind the newspaper counter, who removed his cap to show a tuft of brilliantly orange hair.

“Good morning, Eugene,” Victoria replied, closing her book.

“Whatcha reading there?” he nodded at the book.

“Oh, it’s just -- a journal. Handwritten notes,” Victoria stammered, tucking the little black book under her arm. “For work. Anyway, do you have anything good today?”

“Nothing handwritten, but hot off the presses,” Eugene said, handing her a folded grey paper. “There was another one just last night!”

Victoria took the paper, whose headline read, LIGHTFOOT STRIKES AGAIN! BANKS UP SECURITY AROUND THE FIVE BOROUGHS.

“Another robbery? My, my -- $20,000 gone? What example does that set for the children in this city! I hope they find the man behind it all,” Victoria said. She held out a coin to pay for the newspaper.

Eugene blushed. “On the house! Save it for all the good works you do with the locals.”

“Thank you, Eugene,” Victoria said.

“Say, I was wondering, if you ain’t busy this Saturday --” Eugene started, but was interrupted as the nearby clock tower struck its bell to signify the hour.

“I can't be late!” Victoria walked briskly away, waving her book and paper at Eugene, leaving the man to stare dreamily out his newsstand after her.

Victoria stepped over the threshold of the library, tapping the black book against her thigh. The quick click of her kitten heels echoed in the quiet murmur of the lobby. She smiled at a few coworkers before pushing a button at the elevator. When the doors opened, Victoria rushed ahead without looking.

She bumped right into Mr. Marlon, the library’s Executive Director. Startled, she dropped her newspaper and little black book. He bent down to pick them up first.

“Lightfoot strikes again,” Mr. Marlon said, reading the headline. “You know, the banks are going to go under paying for extra security to catch that man.”

He folded the paper and flipped the little black book from cover to cover. Victoria stiffened, hoping he wouldn’t examine the book too closely.

“I’m so sorry to run into you like this, Mr. Marlon,” Victoria said quickly, fluttering her eyelashes in hopes to distract him. “I’m headed down to the archives to check something for Mr. Bancroft and got caught up.”

“That old man is always sending angels to do his dirty work,” Mr. Marlon replied with a smile, folding the book into the newspaper. Victoria breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“It’s for the upcoming children’s event, sir,” Victoria played on. “We’re looking for some original Grimm fairytales to read with the youth shelter.”

“I admire your spirit, doll,” Mr. Marlon replied. “You’d better hop to it, then!”

He half-bowed between the elevator doors to let her through. When Victoria passed him, he tapped her rear end with the newspaper and book. She whipped around, then considered her situation.

“Sir, while I have your undivided attention, I wondered if you had received Mr. Bancroft’s requisition request for additional funds in the Children’s Enrichment Department?”

Mr. Marlon paused, then laughed heartily for some time before answering. “What a rascal that Bancroft is! This library wouldn’t have two extra dimes to rub together for such nonsense and he knows it!”

Victoria had a difficult time correcting her expression. “Of course, sir.”

“You’d be better off asking that Lightfoot prowler for money!” Mr. Marlon shook the newspaper at her. “Maybe he would rob another bank if a pretty girl like you asked him, eh?”

Mr. Marlon handed her the paper and book as he chuckled to himself. Victoria smiled along politely until the elevator doors shut.

Once alone, Victoria dropped the act, clasping the black book to her chest. She shuffled it and newspaper back safely beneath her arm. She took a few steadying breaths.

The elevator clunked down toward the basement archives. When the doors opened once more, she stepped out with renewed focus.

Rows of desks nearby sat men so wrapped up in research, they barely looked up as she walked past -- which, given the morning she was having, she considered a welcome change in atmosphere.

Victoria tramped through rows of tall shelves holding old books, newspapers, and scrolls. She knew she only had a few minutes for this misadventure, which had nothing to do with Grimm’s fairytales. She moved swiftly through the labyrinth, far from the desks of researchers and the prying eyes of her fellow librarians.

In a dark corner stood a long-forgotten bookshelf full of dusty tomes in another language. After checking that the coast was clear, Victoria put her hand on the spine of a particular book, more modern than the others: The Feminine Mystique. She angled the book toward her until something clicked.

The entire shelving unit moved, opening to reveal the sliver of a doorway. She inched through and quickly closed it behind her. She turned into a room stacked with tables, bookshelves and chairs that hadn’t been used in fifty years.

“Sneaky,” a voice called from the shadows.

“You’re one to talk,” Victoria replied. “Where are you?”

A pair of boots jumped gently onto the floor. Victoria watched the dust drift around the flare of her jeans as Rainey appeared from the shadow of a collapsing bookshelf. Her wavy hair glowed in a streak of sunlight from the tiny window.

“You left this after the job last night!” Victoria scolded, plopping the briefcase on a nearby table with a thunk.

Rainey leaned against the table and smirked. “You said you needed money for your children’s events. I thought after our escapades, this was the least I could do.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“And I was just supposed to -- what? Show up to work with $20,000 in a briefcase and donate it to the library the day after a bank robbery?” Victoria scoffed, clicking open the briefcase and shoving a handful of money in Rainey’s face. "Funny."

Rainey shrugged. “Grumpy,” she said. “You’re the one who’s late for this little rendezvous. Was that Eugene guy flirting with you again? I gotta watch out for that ginger jerk, he’ll steal my girl!” Rainey pulled Victoria close and swayed her hips.

“Eugene tried to ask me out, but I literally ran into the Executive Director on my way down -- which means I don’t have any time for this right now,” Victoria said, pushing away.

“Come on, nobody’s ever found us here,” Rainey said, leaning in for a kiss.

“And we’ll never be able to meet here again if I don’t get to work,” Victoria said. “Take this and give me my actual briefcase, thank you.”

“Yes, dear,” Rainey said with an eye roll. “You always know what’s best.”

Rainey stomped her feet over to the collapsing bookshelf. She returned loudly with Victoria’s briefcase and handed it to her with a pouting face.

“I don’t see how the press could ever call you Lightfoot,” Victoria laughed.

“It’s because I’m too quick for them,” Rainey bragged, jumping around like Muhammad Ali. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, devour men like a mantis!”

“Okay champ, I’m going back to work,” Victoria said.

“Wait!” Rainey said. “Did you bring the book?”

Victoria took the little black book from beneath her arm. “I got my eyeful this morning on my commute before it landed in the hands of Mr. Marlon in the lobby!”

“You let the man look at my secret notebook of evil plots? What else did you show him while you were cuddling up?” Rainey said.

“You’re just lucky these eyelashes are so distracting,” Victoria replied, batting them.

“What would I do without the Bonnie to my Clyde?” Rainey wooed, pulling Victoria into a spin and starting to dance.

“I’m sure you’d be in jail by now,” Victoria said, dancing along. “And I would be happily married to Eugene with several ridiculous, redheaded children.”

“Good thing we found each other then, huh?” Rainey laughed.

“Yeah,” Victoria said, giving Rainey a quick peck. “Good thing.”

With that, Rainey climbed a precariously-stacked pile of chairs to sneak out the tiny basement window and disappeared.

Victoria headed back to work with a smile.

Her good mood lasted most of the day. Just minutes before closing time, Victoria’s supervisor Mr. Bancroft dropped a thick envelope on Victoria’s desk. He told her it was just dropped off by an influential donor and its contents must be processed before the day’s end.

Once he was out of earshot, Victoria grumbled. She grabbed a letter opener and ripped open the seal.

Inside the envelope was a check to the Children’s Enrichment Program for $20,000 from Mr. R. Ainey.

Victoria actually giggled, then quickly recovered, trying to appear professional. She saw that the envelope also contained something far heavier than a check. Rainey’s little black book of evil plots tumbled from the envelope. Victoria opened it to the most recent page.

It said, For Bonnie, because you always know what’s best. You should pick our next date!

Listed on the next page were the names and addresses of several of the richest, most powerful men in Manhattan.

Victoria grinned and got to work.