Vesna McMaster – Serendipity

‘Dip dip dip dip doobie dip dip serendipity,’ croons the pickpocket in the corner.

So fortuitous!

Who would have thought there would be an unlocked cloak room in such a swanky establishment? Amazing what people leave in their pockets without a thought in the world, and hand their coats over to the concierge.

Not sure who had been going to propose but they’ll be needing another ring to do it with, ‘cause this one’s going with me. But pick of the crop – this bit of paper.

Oh, this will be worth a nice little penny. Mayoral candidate, eh? I don’t think so, short of a few hundred grand, not with that sort of material readily available.

The pickpocket gets up, saunters across the lobby, tucking the hand-written love-note back into her pocket. College fees, consider yourselves paid.

The sun is bright outside. What a day! Ah, glory, If all days were like this she would only have to work every few months. 

She considers whether or not to splash out some of the unrealised blackmail money on a slap-up dinner. Why not. Dave at the local café is a good fence, he can take the smaller items.

Her energised step as she bounces along the sidewalk is arrested momentarily by a slight collision with another pedestrian: a lady of advanced years, complete with a walking-cane.

‘Oh, sorry, I must not have been looking where I was going.’ The pickpocket is in a particularly gracious mood, and apologises to profusely.

‘No problem, dear.’ The pickpocket is about to walk on, when the lady taps her can on the pavement and coughs.

‘Ahem, excuse me, young lady. I think you missed something?’

The younger woman looks up.

‘Eh?’

‘This, maybe?’ The old lady holds up the purloined note in one hand, a police badge in the other.

‘What?’ The pickpocket gasps. ‘How… how did you know? Have you been following me?’

‘Serendipity, my dear.’