A Day at the Office

by Anne Swardson

About the Author: Anne Swardson moved to Paris as a journalist for the Washington Post but turned to fiction to expose the city's darker side. Her short story, "River Secret," was selected by blind submission for the Mystery Writers of America's 2012 anthology. Another story, "The Wheels on the Bus," was recently published in Noir Nation, which also will publish "Eiffel in Love" in a forthcoming edition.

Excerpt

Petar smoothed his thin black T-shirt as he climbed up the Métro steps and stepped onto rue Scribe. Pushing down on the belt of his faded blue jeans so they sat properly on his hips, he turned up the collar of his fake leather jacket. He was ready for his workday.

It was a sunny, warm afternoon in Paris and the tourists were out in droves, bunching at the door of the Fragonard perfume museum and snapping selfies in front of the blocky Opéra building. Actual Parisians snaked their way through the chattering packs.

Time to prowl. Petar walked in a rolling slouch, head lowered. Never raise your gaze, his mother had always said. Even when he was a child in her arms as she begged in the Métro tunnels, that’s what she told him. She kept saying it right up until she disappeared, when he was ??. Had she gone back to Bulgaria? He never found out.

He checked out a gaggle of Chinese in front of the Grand Hotel. They were all wearing money belts. Then ahead he saw his first likely target of the day: a middle-aged man in a soft gray suit that Petar recognized as Dior. Last year’s collection. The fellow was wearing gleaming Gucci’s and carrying a black briefcase that had to be Hermès.

The mark didn’t sense anything when the two stood together at the red light. He might be rich, but he was stupid enough to carry his wallet in his back pocket. The light changed and the guy went on, his dreams of money and power uninterrupted and his wallet now in Petar’s jacket pocket.

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