Read Online The Thief by Fuminori Nakamura - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Fuminori Nakamura
Tags: Suspense
Ads: Link
use a tool. It’s got a tip like a fish-hook to snag the wallet.”
“Have you got one?”
“I don’t use tools. But there’s a famous pickpocket who did.”
“Who?” he asked, staring at me.
“A man called Barrington. An Irishman who lived in England a long time ago. He was in a theater company that was invited to noblemen’s houses, and he picked those rich people’s pockets like there was no tomorrow. He made the tools himself and was really good with them. He stole from ambassadors and Members of Parliament, even disguised himself as a priest. They call him the Prince of Pickpockets. He was brilliant, they say.”
“Anyone else?”
“Well, you probably don’t need to know about them.”
“Huh?”
He looked at me in surprise. Then he seemed embarrassed, as if he’d chattered too much, even though I was theone who’d been doing all the talking. His skinny legs poked out from his shorts and his shoes were covered with dirt.
“There was also this eccentric who’d put a card with his own name on it in the wallet he’d lifted and then put it back. A famous American pickpocket called Dawson. And an amazing man, Angelillo, who’s estimated to have stolen a hundred thousand wallets. A woman called Emilie was arrested for picking pockets and in the middle of her trial she pinched the judge’s glasses case. Apparently the whole court burst out laughing.”
The boy’s mouth twitched slightly.
“What about in Japan?”
“There was a really good one called Koharu. In the old days coin purses were popular. They had a clasp that would snap shut like this. Some people wore them hanging on a cord around their neck. This woman Koharu could undo their coats and take the money from inside the purse. A technique called ‘nakanuki.’ What’s more, the story goes that after she emptied the purse she’d close it again and button up their coat. Incredible skill.”
“Really?”
“Surrounded by misery, those people laughed at the whole world.”
Seeing the time on the big clock, the kids put away their games and left the park. A young couple went by, walking a dog. A little girl holding her mother’s hand was looking at us and saying something.
“There’s also someone who took ten million yen in one day.”
“Ten million yen?”
“Yeah, a guy I know. He’s dead, probably.”
The boy looked up at me. I remembered my last glimpse of Ishikawa’s face nodding at me, and the van’s red tail lights disappearing down the street.
“People like that generally come to a bad end. So don’t follow them. It’s not worth it.”
I showed him the 220,000 yen I’d taken from the old man with the grandson.
“I’m going to give you all of this. Next time you’re told to go to the supermarket and steal, use this cash to buy the stuff. Don’t come and see me again.”
“Why not?”
“I’m busy.”
I stood up from the bench. The boy walked in silence, moving closer to me and then moving away. When we parted he still didn’t say a word. By the time I got homeI felt a chill. Even getting under the duvet didn’t warm me up, and I figured I’d caught a cold. Going out to buy medicine froze me even more, but I took some drugs and tried to sleep.
I spent most of the next two days huddled under the covers. The ringing of the doorbell woke me from a dream of Saeko. I ignored it but it didn’t stop. I couldn’t tell if it was early evening or the middle of the night. I lit a cigarette, though I couldn’t taste it. When I opened the door the boy’s mother was standing there.
10 She was wearing a short skirt with black patterned stockings. She stared at me suspiciously and then peered into my room, her gaze moving back and forth in bewilderment, even though she had come here of her own accord. She fiddled with the button on her bag, her right eye twitching fiercely, and finally looked up at me searchingly. When she did that she looked just like her son.
“What do you want?” I
“Have you got one?”
“I don’t use tools. But there’s a famous pickpocket who did.”
“Who?” he asked, staring at me.
“A man called Barrington. An Irishman who lived in England a long time ago. He was in a theater company that was invited to noblemen’s houses, and he picked those rich people’s pockets like there was no tomorrow. He made the tools himself and was really good with them. He stole from ambassadors and Members of Parliament, even disguised himself as a priest. They call him the Prince of Pickpockets. He was brilliant, they say.”
“Anyone else?”
“Well, you probably don’t need to know about them.”
“Huh?”
He looked at me in surprise. Then he seemed embarrassed, as if he’d chattered too much, even though I was theone who’d been doing all the talking. His skinny legs poked out from his shorts and his shoes were covered with dirt.
“There was also this eccentric who’d put a card with his own name on it in the wallet he’d lifted and then put it back. A famous American pickpocket called Dawson. And an amazing man, Angelillo, who’s estimated to have stolen a hundred thousand wallets. A woman called Emilie was arrested for picking pockets and in the middle of her trial she pinched the judge’s glasses case. Apparently the whole court burst out laughing.”
The boy’s mouth twitched slightly.
“What about in Japan?”
“There was a really good one called Koharu. In the old days coin purses were popular. They had a clasp that would snap shut like this. Some people wore them hanging on a cord around their neck. This woman Koharu could undo their coats and take the money from inside the purse. A technique called ‘nakanuki.’ What’s more, the story goes that after she emptied the purse she’d close it again and button up their coat. Incredible skill.”
“Really?”
“Surrounded by misery, those people laughed at the whole world.”
Seeing the time on the big clock, the kids put away their games and left the park. A young couple went by, walking a dog. A little girl holding her mother’s hand was looking at us and saying something.
“There’s also someone who took ten million yen in one day.”
“Ten million yen?”
“Yeah, a guy I know. He’s dead, probably.”
The boy looked up at me. I remembered my last glimpse of Ishikawa’s face nodding at me, and the van’s red tail lights disappearing down the street.
“People like that generally come to a bad end. So don’t follow them. It’s not worth it.”
I showed him the 220,000 yen I’d taken from the old man with the grandson.
“I’m going to give you all of this. Next time you’re told to go to the supermarket and steal, use this cash to buy the stuff. Don’t come and see me again.”
“Why not?”
“I’m busy.”
I stood up from the bench. The boy walked in silence, moving closer to me and then moving away. When we parted he still didn’t say a word. By the time I got homeI felt a chill. Even getting under the duvet didn’t warm me up, and I figured I’d caught a cold. Going out to buy medicine froze me even more, but I took some drugs and tried to sleep.
I spent most of the next two days huddled under the covers. The ringing of the doorbell woke me from a dream of Saeko. I ignored it but it didn’t stop. I couldn’t tell if it was early evening or the middle of the night. I lit a cigarette, though I couldn’t taste it. When I opened the door the boy’s mother was standing there.
10 She was wearing a short skirt with black patterned stockings. She stared at me suspiciously and then peered into my room, her gaze moving back and forth in bewilderment, even though she had come here of her own accord. She fiddled with the button on her bag, her right eye twitching fiercely, and finally looked up at me searchingly. When she did that she looked just like her son.
“What do you want?” I
Similar Books
