Run: 2026-07-09-01KX40QWZWWF2T8YRY5K0YSY5V

Molly crouched behind the hedge with a pair of binoculars and the expression of a woman studying enemy troop movements. Across the street, balloons bobbed over the gate of Number Twelve. A papier-mâché dragon leaned drunkenly beside a banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OSCAR! Its left eye had been drawn on with a marker and looked deeply suspicious. Bill peered over the hedge beside her. He wore a black turtleneck, black trousers, and, for reasons known only to Bill, a black cape. “You know the cape makes you look less like a thief and more like a magician who owes people money.” “It’s tactical,” Bill whispered. “Nothing with a satin lining is tactical.” “The lining reduces friction during escape.” “With what? The wind?” Inside the garden, children shrieked around a bouncy castle shaped like a pirate ship. Parents clustered near a folding table piled with sausage rolls, paper cups, and presents wrapped in enough glittery paper to blind a crow. Bill lowered his binoculars. “There must be thirty gifts.” “Thirty-two,” Molly said. “I counted the dinosaur-shaped one twice because it was magnificent.” “Are we taking the dinosaur-shaped one?” “We are taking all of them. That is the job.” Bill frowned. “It feels excessive when you say it in that voice.” “What voice?” “The voice you use before stealing something from a charity raffle.” Molly adjusted the tiny earpiece she had bought from a discount electronics stall. It was actually a hearing aid for television and had no connection to anything, but it made her feel organized. “The parents are distracted. The children are occupied. The dog is tied to the barbecue.” “There’s a dog?” “A sausage dog named Colonel Mustard.” Bill blinked. “That’s a very competent name for a dog.” “He’s wearing a cone.” “Ah. Demoted.” A gust of wind carried the smell of charcoal and frosting over the hedge. Bill’s stomach growled with enough force to disturb a nearby pigeon. “We should wait until the cake,” Molly said. “Why?” “Everyone watches cake.” “I watch cake.” “Exactly. Nobody watches presents during cake.” Bill looked toward the gate, then at his cape, which had snagged on a rosebush. “What’s the entrance plan?” Molly pointed to the side alley. A plastic garden gnome stood halfway down it, holding a fishing rod and wearing a knitted yellow hat. “We go through there, cross the patio, take the presents, and leave through the back gate.” “That gnome has seen things.” “It’s ceramic.” “That’s what they want you to think.” Molly sighed and produced two paper party hats from her handbag. One had rockets on it; the other featured smiling ladybirds. “We blend in,” she said. Bill accepted the ladybird hat with grave dignity. “I was hoping for rockets.” “You’re in a cape. You don’t get rockets too.” They slipped through the alley. Colonel Mustard spotted them immediately, barked once, then became distracted by his own cone and walked into a lawn chair. At the present table, Molly grabbed a large gift bag while Bill scooped up parcels with the frantic efficiency of a man clearing a supermarket shelf before a storm. “Bill,” Molly hissed, “not the cards.” “I thought we needed the names.” “We don’t need the names.” “One says ‘To Oscar, love Grandma.’ We can’t steal from Grandma.” “We are stealing from everyone, Bill.” He reluctantly returned the card, then pocketed a party whistle. Molly stared at him. “It was loose,” he said. From the garden came the sound of candles being lit and twenty children beginning an uneven rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Molly hoisted the bulging bag. “Now,” she said. Bill grabbed the dinosaur-shaped present. “For the record, this is my favorite crime.” They hurried toward the back gate, only to find Oscar standing there in a pirate hat, holding a slice of cake. He looked at the bag, then at them. Bill froze. Molly smiled brightly. “Surprise present inspection.” Oscar considered this. “Are you from the Present Police?” Bill nodded. “Very elite unit.” Oscar pointed at the dinosaur parcel. “That one’s mine.” Molly handed it over. “Cleared for immediate enjoyment.” Oscar beamed and ran back to the party. Bill watched him go. “We stole thirty-one presents.” Molly looked into the bag. A small party whistle gave a lonely squeak. “Thirty,” she said. “And one piece of evidence.”