Black Knight Read Free

blinking—and led Ms. Summer onto the red carpet and toward the theater entrance.
    Marc was fortunate to end up with the keys. Ordinarily the driver handed them to whoever opened the driver’s door. Marc was as far from superstitious as a guy could be. Even as a four-year-old, bouncing from one orphanage to another, he’d realized Santa Claus had been invented to sell more toys. But he trusted his gut and didn’t feel it was a coincidence that he’d ended up with the keys to Ms. Summer’s car. He thought somebody was trying to tell him something.
    It turned out her Jaguar was the last car he parked before the film began. Marc put it near the Hazens’ Mercedes, on the bottom level of the mall lot. He took his time making an impression of her key, and took even more time cleaning the original.
    He had selected only four targets, which was unusual for him—last time he’d had ten at this stage. Yet all four were prime: They had the jewels; their connection to the picture was such that they’d all stay late; he’d been able to make an impression of their car key; and they all had plenty of trunk space.
    Now it was all a question of timing.
    It was against the rules for the valet crew to watch the film, but Green was a laid-back boss and let Marc and a buddy of his, Teddy Fox, slip into the theater fifteen minutes after the movie started. All the seats were taken and they had to stand at the rear, but Marc didn’t mind. He found a marble wall to lean against and rested the back of his head on the cool stone. It was a relief to rest for a few minutes and the film wasn’t half bad.
    It was a romantic comedy structured around a mystery. A couple were only an hour away from getting married when both their wedding rings vanished. At the start the story focused on a search for the clever thief, but it was the buried doubts about the marriage that the crime suddenly raised in the bride and groom that created the bulk of the laughs. Silvia Summer had been too hard on the film. The crowd spent most of the movie laughing out loud. Ordinarily Marc was demanding when it came to films, but even he couldn’t resist chuckling a few times. He especially enjoyed the lead actress. Ms. Summer was even more stunning on the big screen.
    He kept thinking how he’d like to see her again, socially. A silly thought, sure—she had a boyfriend and he was a nobody. But the remark she’d made getting out of her car—it had stayed with him.
    What had she seen in him? It couldn’t have been his face, although there were plenty of girls who thought he was worth a second look. It was like they had connected for an instant in some mysterious way. The simple fact was he liked her, and he found it ironic that the feeling made his desire for her necklace even greater, when it should have been the other way around.
    He didn’t dwell too long on the paradox. He knew the way his mind worked. He had two trains racing in the two hemispheres of his brain that unfortunately were usually on the same track and racing toward each other, which was another way of saying that he was pretty sure he was screwed up.
    That was okay, he accepted it, he had to accept it; no one had given him a choice. He knew something of psychology. He hadn’t had a lot of basic education but he read plenty. The fact that he had grown up without a single parent, biological or foster, and had been living on his own since the age of fifteen—often on the streets—it was a miracle he wasn’t already dead or in jail.
    Of course, the night was still young.
    Marc rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he watched the film. He was sweating but it was a sweet sweat. He stole for money, that was obvious, but the deeper reason was the action, the rush it gave him. All the planning, all the hoops he had to jump through, the constant risk, the countless on-the-spot decisions he had to make—bundle it all together and it gave him an adrenaline high he couldn’t find anywhere else.