THE SWEETEST HEIST

Present-Day

Lucas approached the building where he had been only two days before. The large black duffle bag slung across his back weighs him down. But something heavier weighs on his mind, the thought of what was to come. He had been standing by the front of the building considering his options. He knew that if he didn’t return the money he would have problems with Mr. Fugazi.

He took a deep breath and began walking toward the entrance of the factory, the smell of chocolate soon returned as he approached the front door. He pushed open the doors and entered. He found himself in a modern-looking reception area. The floor was covered in white tiles. Near the center of the room was a big white leather couch with brown pillows. Lucas walked up and began to ask where Fugazi’s office was when the receptionist pointed a finger toward a door he hadn’t noticed off to the side. She hadn’t even raised her head when he walked over which shocked him slightly, but he didn’t have time to think about it as he had a deadline.

He made his way past the desk, to the door. Opening it he stepped through and was faced with another set of doors and a long hallway. He recognized the hallway as he had been there before. He started scanning the names on the doors before finally arriving at Fugazi’s door. His name was carved on it on a bronze plaque.

Lucas took one more deep breath, he shrugged. I can’t turn back now, he thought as he knocked on the door two times. “Come in,” Fugazi spoke with an Italian American accent. Lucas opened the door. Fugazi was sitting at his desk with three men. The seat across from him empty Lucas assumed for him. “Hello Mr.Fugazi sir, how are you?” Fugazi motioned for him to sit down. Lucas sat and lifted the duffel bag off his shoulder, handing it to Fugazi. “Thanks, kid,” Fugazi said as he handed the bag to one of his men who began counting the money inside. He finished. The man handed the bag back to Fugazi and simply nodded.”

“Good”, Fugazi replied. He sighed deeply. “Now where did my money disappear to and how’d you get it back?” “That's a story for another day, Mr. Fugazi.” Lucas got up and headed to the door leaving Mr. Fugazi to ponder what had just transpired.

4 days prior

Lucas walked away from a seemingly empty little home on 100 Thatcher Street. He looked both ways before crossing the street. His mind was so preoccupied he didn’t even notice the security camera hanging from the light post. Lucas crossed the street and began walking home. His mind was a mess. A jumble of confused thoughts, but one kept coming to the front of his mind. The $20,000 in the black duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder! He thought about what he was going to buy and how his life would change. He began to pass the local shops as he entered his town. He tried to keep his head down and look inconspicuous. All he had to do was make it home then decide what to do with the money. He picked up his pace, the prospect of buying something expensive propelled his legs to new speeds.

Once he reached his building he quickly ran up the stairs and into his tiny apartment. He threw the bag onto his couch and began counting the stacks of money. Once he had finished, he grabbed a sweatshirt and the money. He dug up a briefcase in which he quickly laid the bills down. Then, he was out the door again. He jogged down the stairs without noticing the man standing at the corner. The man was solely focused on Lucas.

Fugazi was sitting at the head of a roundtable with a group of his investors. The room was large with dark brown walls. The wall behind him had a built-in TV screen. The screen showed a boy walking from 100 Thatcher Street. The atmosphere was pensive, no one wanted to break the uncomfortable silence. Fugazi spoke first. “It seems that we have an issue with the security of our money.” He took out a little black notebook from his pocket. “Someone found our spot on Thatcher Street!“ “How much?” One investor asked. “$20,000!” “Was it being protected?” Another person asked. Fugazi thought for a moment before answering. “No, it... it was not.”

“So, she continued. If a particular person thought that the building was rundown and decided to explore and happened to lift the only book on the bookshelf with a cover.” “Then they would find a bag with $20,000 and think that it was their’s because there was no indication of it belonging to ANYONE ELSE!!” Fugazi started to sweat thin beads running down the length of his face onto his neck. “Yes,” Fugazi replied. “But, what’s done is done, now we must figure out how to get my money back...er… our money back.” “No, Vincenzo! It is up to you to get our money back, and if you don’t you will be cut from this company immediately!” The man on the other end of the table had spoken. He was a tall man with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. “Yes sir,” Fugazi said. “Then this meeting is adjourned.” The tall man said. “Oh one thing Mr.Salione, you don’t think this could be the doing of Vero Chocolate, do you?” The tall man thought for a moment, “nothing is ever truly out of the question, is it Fugazi?” With that, the members all left.

Lucas was having the time of his life. The 1968 Camaro z28, he just bought sped down the road. The car was black with red accents. It was beautiful and it was his! Lucas checked his watch and saw that it was 5:00 pm. He would have to cut his joyride short and head home to not draw any unwanted attention. As he was almost home, he passed a crosswalk and someone waved. If he had been paying a little more attention he would have realized that he had seen that person before. Walking home, out the window, at the car dealership, and, now. But, he wasn't paying attention and that would prove to be a grave mistake. As he kept driving the man began following the car. He knew the route back to Lucas’ house, but this time he had direct orders on what to do when he got there.

Lucas parked the car in front of his building and got out taking extra care to gently close the door and lock it. He strode across the grass and up the stairs into his apartment. Something briefly caught his attention, a single key mark near the keyhole to his door. He had always strived to keep it unmarred as he had a tough landlord who was unforgiving to property damage even minor. It was as if someone had picked his lock to get inside his apartment…..he shrugged it off. It was already dark. His long eventful day had drawn to an end; He thanked his lucky stars that he had found the money. He got home ran up the stairs, lay down, and fell asleep. Deep sleep, in fact so deep he didn't hear his 1968 Camaro z28 start and drive off down the road.

Lucas woke with a start, his arms were hanging down beside him. He was in a chair with his mouth bound shut. There was a man across from him, the man motioned and the gag was removed from Lucas’ face.

“You have quite a lot of explaining to do boy,” the older man said. “Yes, sir, I do.” “ I’m very sorry that this is the situation we find ourselves in,” said the younger man. “Right, let's start with your name.” “I'm Lucas sir, Lucas Fischer.”

Lucas was a short young man in his early 20’s with messy golden hair drooping over his blue eyes. His youthful skin shone as the single light in the room was pointed at him. The man across from him he didn’t know, but he would find out his identity soon enough. The man continued, “my name is Vincenzo Fugazi.” He rose from his chair before continuing. “I run a very successful business….and it should be no surprise to you that with a very successful business comes a lot of money.”

“Now, personally, I like to bend the rules a little bit if you know what I mean.” “So, I keep my money in different places.” Now he grabbed a small black notebook from his desk and started flipping through the pages. “When you're in this business as long as me you learn some tricks. I cross-reference every place I have money with what I have in this notebook. The place and the amount. And…. his fingers landed on the page he was looking for. Oh, here it is. Yes, it says here that I had 20 grand located at this house.”

“The place is on Thatcher Street.. recently, I sent my men over there to check on my money. And it’s not there!” “I need you to go get my money.” “I would love to Mr. Oh… Mr. Fugazi but, I didn’t take your money sir, I don’t have it.” Fugazi motioned to one of the men in the room. The man handed Fugazi a tablet. “Look here, kid.” Fugazi showed the screen to Lucas. He saw himself dressed in a hoodie and jeans, walking away from the building with a black duffle back slung over his shoulder. His face was clearly on the camera there was no mistaking it was him.

“Look, kid.” Fugazi cut him off. “Follow me!” Lucas rose and met Fugazi by the door, they exited and walked down a long hallway that was brightly lit with modern light fixtures. The walls, Lucas noted were painted chocolate brown. As they walked down the hallway Lucas became aware of a sweet smell. Something familiar.

Finally, they came to a door. Fugazi pulled a set of keys. They clanked in his hand as he struggled to remember the correct key for the door. Eventually, he put the key into the lock and opened the door, revealing a vast factory. Fugazi stepped into the factory and jogged down the stairs leading into the factory space. Lucas followed amazed. As he looked, the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. The smell he couldn’t recognize, the brown walls in the hallway. He was in a chocolate factory. And from the inside, he guessed one of the largest in the world.,” you see Lucas, this is my business this is my… livelihood. You don’t go to a farm and steal a cow do you?” “No sir, I suppose not,” Lucas replied. “And if that farmer had a cow in his house would you steal it?” Fugazi began to raise his voice. “And then, when he askes you nicely to give it back would you lie to that farmer?” “No, I wouldn’t. Lucas conceded. “No, of course not, because that isn’t good manners. So, Lucas why are you stealing my cow huh?”

“I didn’t have any intention of stealing your ‘cow’ Mr. Fugazi, it sort of just happened.”

“Where is my money, Lucas, I’m losing patience?” “I don’t have it Mr. Fugazi but, I will get it back to you. How much is it again?” Fugazi Looked at the little black notebook that was still in his hand. “$20,000 ok?” “Yes sir,” Lucas said. “I give you two days to get my money if It isn’t back by then, we’ll have a problem. Clear?” “Crystal,” Lucas said. Fugazi led Lucas until they reached the exit.

“Bye-bye kid,” Fugazi said. He picked up a chocolate bar that was being put into a brown box and tossed it to Lucas. “Bye Mr. Fugazi”, he said as he caught the bar. He turned around. “Oh, Mr.Fugazi?” But, Fugazi had gone, the door to the factory had closed, and just as mysteriously as Lucas had entered he was out again, only this time his lucky stars had shown their true hand, they weren’t on his side and never were.