Run: 2026-03-18-01KM08QK24PR2MHWVC793BGE62

Molly flattened the wrinkled party invitation against the steering wheel and glared at the picture of a clown holding a helium balloon. “I hate clown theme parties,” she said. “They make every crime look like an accident.” Bill adjusted the tiny wireless earpiece in his ear, though nothing was connected to it except his sense of style and a great deal of overconfidence. Across the street, the suburban house glowed with paper lanterns and the muffled shrieks of children. A banner over the driveway read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAPTAIN WOBBLETOES. “You worry too much,” he said. “It’s a children’s party. No one expects sophistication.” “That’s your whole life philosophy, isn’t it?” “Worked on the bank in Dover.” Molly snorted and leaned forward to study the house again. “The presents are in the sunroom, according to our source. Three tables, one giant pile, and a suspiciously large teddy bear guarding the door.” “That teddy bear is not suspicious,” Bill said. “It’s stuffed.” “It has the eyes of a man who’s seen things.” “He’s plastic.” “Exactly.” Bill flicked open a notebook filled with neat columns and diagrams that looked as though a bored accountant had briefly turned criminal. “Right. We go in as entertainers. You’re the balloon artist.” “I can’t make balloon animals.” “You can make one balloon animal.” “It was a swan and it popped before it had legs.” “A swan is enough. I’m the magician.” “You’re not a magician.” “I own a cape.” Molly stared at him. “That cape is a bathrobe.” “It’s dramatic.” “It’s damp.” He ignored that. “We mingle, charm the parents, distract the children, and while the adults are busy pretending they enjoy sugar coma diplomacy, I roll the gifts out through the side gate.” “Roll them on what?” Bill smiled. “A trolley.” “Where did you get a trolley?” He frowned. “Borrowed it.” “From where?” “There’s a supermarket nearby.” “So you stole a trolley from a supermarket to steal presents from a party.” “Technically, I’m recycling.” Molly pressed a hand to her forehead. “Bill, I need you to say the words ‘I have thought this through’ without lying.” He looked hurt. “Of course I’ve thought it through. There are seven steps.” “Seven?” “Yes. Step one: enter confidently. Step two: locate the gifts. Step three: create a diversion. Step four: load trolley. Step five: exit.” “That’s five.” “Steps six and seven are very private.” She turned to him slowly. “Tell me those aren’t the words ‘hope for the best’ and ‘run.’” “Not precisely.” “What are they?” Bill grinned. “Step six: athleticism. Step seven: character development.” Molly laughed despite herself, then pointed at the house. “Look, the parents are opening the front door for guests. That gives us ten minutes before cake, then twenty before everyone starts looking for their shoes. We need to be invisible.” “I can do invisible,” Bill said. “I once passed a whole afternoon in a hedge.” “You were hiding from the police.” “The hedge was excellent company.” She pulled a black knit cap from her pocket and handed it to him. “Put this on. You look less like a failed pirate when you cover the bathrobe.” He tugged it over his hair. “How do I look?” “Like a failed burglar.” “Better.” They got out of the car and crossed the street with the solemnity of undertakers arriving late. Inside, the party erupted in a chorus of singing and squealing. Molly paused at the side gate and listened. “Do you hear that?” she whispered. Bill nodded. “Children. Joy. The faint sound of money on shelves.” “That’s not money.” “It is in spirit.” She lifted the latch. “Remember: no heroics.” “I never do heroics.” “You once slid down a bannister holding a chandelier.” “That was logistics.” Molly opened the gate just enough for them to slip through. The sunroom windows flashed with ribbon and glossy paper. The teddy bear by the door seemed to watch them in grim plastic silence. Bill whispered, “See? No one suspects anything.” At that moment a small voice from inside shouted, “Mum! A balloon man and a wizard have arrived!” Molly closed her eyes. “Bill.” He straightened his cape. “On the bright side, we’re in costume.”