The Pursuit of Emma - Dave Moyer (top business books of all time .txt) 📗

was good and if she was positive that we could steal the ewer, I was confident too. After all, she had stolen three already.

I was tingling with excitement. I could not escape the truth. It was taking over me. There was nothing like the feeling I got when I conned somebody and it worked. The chance to see one of the greatest in the world at work was such a turn on and the fact it was my ‘wife’ was even hotter. I was desperate to try it again.

I opened a cheap bottle of wine I had bought from a corner shop and we drank to our future success. Emma was dancing around, as free and uninhibited as I had ever seen her. It hit me that she never got to celebrate this normally as she always had to hide the truth so it must have felt great for her to share this moment with me. We laughed at stupid things, eating and drinking until we felt sick.

I took the executive decision that it was time for bed and picked her up over my shoulder, carrying her (like a caveman) to the bed. It felt like a lifetime ago since I had got to lie in bed with her and I made sure to enjoy every second of the experience. I didn’t know when I would next get to do it again. Looking at her beautiful face, I could feel my heart swelling with emotion. I was almost nervous to be this close to the girl I had dreamed of every night for the last few weeks. I kissed her; softly on her lips at first and then attempting to kiss every inch of her beautiful body. I noticed small bruises and the odd cut as I pulled her clothes off, but otherwise she was exactly how I remembered her. I felt completely alive, the way I only do when I am with her.

We made love perfectly; just like we had for years before. I had never experienced passion like it and regardless of the situation we found ourselves in, it will always be one of the best nights of my life.

*****

The morning wind brought a change of emotions as well as a change in the weather. We were woken by the air howling outside and the raindrops lashing against our cheap windows. We lay in bed for a while before forcing life into our limbs and getting up. We said very little as we showered and dressed, perhaps because it was very early, or maybe because the enormity of our task was slowly dawning on us. This was going to be hard.

Emma took one look at my ‘pimpmobile’ and called a taxi for us. It would definitely ruin my image of a slick criminal. I slipped another of my expensive suits on and gave Emma a quick twirl for her approval. She bit her lip and smiled which I took to be a very good sign and we headed off. The journey back to Parlour Street was quiet. Emma looked focused and although she hadn’t told me the complete plan, my faith in her wasn’t wavering. She knew what she was doing. Hopefully.

The taxi pulled up on the side of the road and I gave the driver his fee. We looked at each other (Emma and me, not the taxi driver and me) and both attempted to instill confidence in one another with smiles and knowing nods. I opened the door for Emma and we paced slowly up the stone steps. I breathed in, knocked loudly, and breathed back out. The rain was running down my neck and the wind was so strong that I had to hold on to Emma to keep her stable. Hurry up and open the door.

Vitali opened the door himself and smiled. He looked at us getting steadily wetter and slowly moved aside to let us get dry.

‘Beautiful English weather,’ he breathed, sarcastically.

‘Yeah, I hope Amsterdam is nicer,’ I said, in what I hoped was a friendly, ‘at ease’ attitude.

‘It is meant to be clear and warm today. Perfect weather for stealing priceless Chinese artefacts, wouldn’t you say?’ he replied.

‘Definitely,’ said Emma.

‘Right, to business,’ Vitali called, beckoning us into the living room we had sat in yesterday. Emma went first and I followed close behind. I saw Igor already sat there, looking as well as he ever does, and two of their usual cronies.

‘Please sit,’ Igor chipped in. We sat.

Igor stood up, picking up some documents off the coffee table in front of him.

‘Two tickets to Amsterdam. Leaving Heathrow at ten. Return flight, seven fifty, tonight.’

‘We come back today?’ I asked, showing my surprise.

‘Of course, that’s not a problem is it?’ he muttered, eying me up carefully. Emma said nothing and I followed her example. He took this as acceptance.

‘Good. Two passports. Destroy them on your return to the country later tonight. Vladimir and Alex will be accompanying you and are there to help.’ He gestured at the two cronies and I noticed they had small bags at their feet. They are coming too? That shocked me but Emma looked undisturbed so I tried to stay the same. I’m not sure it worked.

‘Any questions?’ Igor asked.

‘Just one. When we have the vase what do you want us to do with it?’ Emma asked.

‘Vladimir will take it from you. We have arranged transport to our safe-house. Your job is only to steal the ewer and give it to Vlad. Then get back here safely. That’s it.’

‘Even easier,’ I said, trying to give myself some presence.

‘I must say, I can’t wait to see how you are going to steal this one. I have been looking at the security and I can’t see a way around it. Camera’s, weight detectors, lasers. It’s good. What’s the plan?’

‘That would be telling,’ Emma replied, smiling to herself. She liked the fact her intellect was bigger than anyone else’s in the room. We stood up, preparing ourselves, and Igor moved in incredibly close to me.

‘Remember who we are and what we will do. Don’t fuck up,’ he whispered in my ear.

‘Well, time to go,’ called Vitali and, before we knew it, we were in a darkened Range Rover on our way to Heathrow airport.

*****

Amsterdam Airport ‘Schiphol’ was completely hectic by the time we arrived there. I had read on some information sheet on the plane that it is the fourth busiest airport in Europe but trying to weave through the mass number of tourists I was surprised it wasn’t higher. I had never seen anything like it. The bags we had all taken were considered hand-luggage so we didn’t have to queue for baggage reclaim at least. Emma grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd. Vlad and Alex could make their own way out.

We eventually broke out of the building and felt the warm air hit our face. The Kozlovs were right; the weather was much better here. Whilst waiting for our two lovely assistants, I checked the time. It was only half eleven although I was yet to change my clock forward and I quickly lost another hour. Half twelve. Six and a half hours to get to the museum, rob it and catch a flight. Not long at all.

Emma had run over the plan several times on the flight and I was as sure of what I had to do as I could be. It seemed a long shot but if it all worked the way Emma said it would, it was going to be special. I checked my reflection in the glass fronting of the airport and was relatively pleased with the results. I didn’t look too bad. Eventually our company caught up with us and we were ready to leave. I attempted to call a taxi but Alex grabbed my arm and shook his head.

‘We have arranged transportation,’ he growled in a deep, foreign accent.

‘Oh good,’ I replied and followed the rest of them to a Blue Volkswagen van.

‘You go in the back,’ Vlad laughed as he and Alex squeezed in next to the driver.

The back of the van had a small light that stayed on but no seat belts so we huddled on one of the wheel arch lumps and held on to each other for dear life. The driver was racing around the city of Amsterdam like an F1 fanatic and within half an hour we were at the museum. I don’t know whether he took the most direct route as it felt like we were racing down back streets. Perhaps he was practising a getaway route for later. I struggled to imagine how a priceless ewer would survive in the back of that van. We barely did.

Vlad came round to the back of the van and let us out.

‘Who’s your driver, Jenson Button?’ I asked, sarcastically. Nothing. Not even a flicker of a smile. I gave up and moved on. Stretching and rubbing my now-bruised knees, I looked up at swore loudly.

‘Holy Shit!’

Now, I apologise for the swearword just as I did then, but if you have ever seen the museum we were about to try and rob, you would have sworn too. The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam is one of the most impressive buildings in Holland, possible the whole world. I read later that the ‘Rijksmuseum’ means ‘The State Museum’ in English, but a more accurate translation would have been ‘The best looking building in the whole damn world Museum’. I urge everyone reading this to put it down (for a minute), go on to the internet and ‘Google’ an image of the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. Go on, I’ll wait.

It was amazing huh? Well, I had to try to steal from it. For those of you that have never seen what it looks like, allow me to explain. The building itself looks more like a palace than a museum. Rich red brick is mixed with huge glass windows and on the roof, two piercing pillars stick into the skyline, making it visible from miles around. It is truly breathtaking and sadly for me, it only managed to increase my anxiety for what I had to do next. It was flooded with tourists, milling up the steps towards the entrance and around the grounds. It was so busy; I was thinking how difficult it would be to steal an oversized eraser from the gift shop let alone one of the displays. Doing a job like this at night was hard but in the day was even more impossible.

‘Two questions,’ I said to Emma quietly. ‘Number one: why are we not doing this at night?’

‘Because when they shut the museum down for the night, an outside security force comes in to protect the artefacts and they make this security look like a child’s padlock on an old scooter.’ That was a particularly strange phrase for Emma to use so I assumed either someone used to always say that to her, or she started so young, she was thieving scooters as a toddler. I wouldn’t have put it past her.

‘Also, during the day gives us a crowd to get lost in. Understand?’

‘Fine, OK, I get it. Question Number Two: Why haven’t the authorities just moved the ewer already? Or at the very least, taken it off the display?’

She smiled at my ignorance to that as well. It wasn’t patronising but she seemed to consider me sweet for not knowing.

‘Museum security is state-of-the-art. If you move it, you take it away from the lasers and cameras and motion detectors... you get the idea. But they will be watching it like a hawk and will move it whenever they need to. I hope,’ she added, winking at me cheekily.

Well that answered that. I may have got better at these criminal activities but I was truly out of my depth. Thank goodness Emma was on top of things.

We walked round to the front of the building and stopped next to Alex and Vlad. Emma muttered something to him which