Run: 2026-09-23-01M36P2MCG4509DNH4GMA4FPCW

“We go in at seven,” Molly whispered, unfolding a napkin map across the pub table. “The children will be distracted by cake.” “Children are famously difficult to distract from cake,” Bill said. “They can smell it through walls.” “That’s why you’re carrying the decoy.” Bill looked down at the enormous cake box beside his chair. “You said this was a decoy. It has frosting on it.” “It’s a decoy cake.” “It has a little plastic dinosaur on top.” “Children trust dinosaurs.” “Do they?” “They trust them more than adults with cake boxes.” Bill lifted the lid. A tiny green dinosaur stared up at him from a lopsided sponge. “This is a real cake.” “It’s a decoy real cake.” “That distinction is going to matter to the dinosaur.” Molly tapped the map. “We enter through the garden gate. You make a charming distraction. I collect the presents.” “What sort of charming distraction?” “Tell them you’re a magician.” “I’m not a magician.” “You own a cape.” “I own a bathrobe with stars on it.” “Exactly. A magician’s cape with excellent laundering.” Bill studied the map. “What’s this?” “The living room.” “It’s shaped like a duck.” “That’s the swimming pool.” “Why is the swimming pool inside?” “Rich people.” “And the presents?” “Under the tree.” “It’s July.” “They’ve put up a birthday tree.” “That’s not a thing.” “You haven’t been to enough birthday parties.” “I’ve been to plenty. Nobody has birthday trees.” “These people do. I saw a photograph.” “Was it a tree?” “It was a large plant with ribbons.” “Then we’re robbing a fern.” “We are not robbing the fern. We’re taking the presents.” “Are we sure they’re valuable?” “Children receive excellent gifts. Tablets, game consoles, bicycles.” “Or socks.” “Children don’t get socks at parties.” “My aunt gave me socks for my birthday.” “Your aunt was a criminal.” Bill leaned closer to the map. “There are twenty children.” “Twenty-three.” “Twenty-three?” “I counted the invitations.” “You counted the invitations?” “I was doing surveillance.” “You stood outside a house and counted envelopes?” “I was subtle.” “Did anyone see you?” “A woman asked if I was the party entertainer.” “And you said?” “I said yes.” Molly blinked. “You’re the party entertainer?” “Not anymore. She gave me a schedule.” “You have a schedule?” Bill pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “At seven, balloons. At seven-fifteen, musical chairs. At seven-thirty, presents.” Molly stared at him. “The presents are opened at the party?” “Apparently.” “So we can’t steal them before they’re opened.” “We can steal them during the musical chairs.” “The children will be circling the presents.” “They’ll be facing the chairs.” “What if they stop?” “Then I’ll keep singing.” “You know children’s songs?” “I know one.” “Which one?” “‘Happy Birthday.’” “That isn’t a song you sing during musical chairs.” “It has a tune.” Molly folded the map. “Fine. We go in as entertainers. You do magic. I’ll be the assistant.” “What’s the trick?” “I make the presents disappear.” “That isn’t a trick. That’s the crime.” “Then do a different trick.” “I can pull a coin from someone’s ear.” “Can you?” “No, but I can take the coin.” Molly considered this. “That’s almost magic.” Bill picked up the cake box. “And if the children ask what’s inside?” “Tell them it’s a dragon egg.” “What if they ask why it smells like lemon?” “Dragons enjoy citrus.” “Do they?” “Bill, tonight we’re stealing presents from a birthday party. Don’t start demanding realism now.” He sighed and stood. “I’ll get the cape.” “Bring the dinosaur.” “I’m beginning to think he’s in charge.” “He’s the decoy.” “Sure,” Bill said. “And we’re the adults.”