It is a sacred ritual. The priestess removes the holy objects from their alcoves. Takes them into the church, hides them from the stars. In the morning she returns them for the worshippers to see. Neat and tidy and holy at the Temple of Rolex. I find her on a dating site. I’m half her… Read More arrest

My fence is in France. I’m almost certain that his buyer is too. I’ve told him I have two rugs. I decide to take them myself. Maybe I will notice something, maybe I can learn something. If I can trace his collector I can sell the other seven to him myself. I have an AirB&B… Read More arrest

I arrive in Colombia with the reliquary. I don’t know if it’s being bought for its holiness, its beauty, or as an investment, or because there is just nothing else for the cartels left to buy. It isn’t really important. I’m being paid very well for it, whereas I had got it without paying anything… Read More arrest

I walk across the room. I’m trying not to sweat. It’s summer in Italy and my uniform’s wool, I’m going to sweat. But I don’t want it to look like I’m stealing something. Because I’m stealing something. My heels click on the parquet floor. Can’t be helped. I punch in a keycode, open a door.… Read More arrest

I’m in a little six-seater prop plane. It’s just me and the pilot. My briefcase has its own seat. We touch down on the landing strip. Snow on the ground, lonely in the high mountains. The plane takes off, and I’m alone. Where I left my car is a smooth mound of snow. Looks like… Read More arrest

I’m sitting in a cell. Nothing new there. I’m chained to a table. Can’t say that’s a first. This time they’ve stripped me naked. It’s a hundred degrees out, so I don’t really mind. They interrogated me for hours. I put up with it. They tried to shake me and to break me. I sat there… Read More Avoidance

There were five of us. We were young and right and beautiful – the kind of beauty that comes from being young and right. There was Armand, from Marseilles, who always had this old Leica around his neck. It belonged to his great-grandfather. His great-grandfather who fought in the Spanish Civil War. He’d tell you… Read More arrest

Henry Turenne and his skyscraper. Henry Turenne and his fourth quarter. The skyscraper has a square footprint. Ninety feet wide, ninety feet deep. Ninety feet of Malcolm X Boulevard. Ninety feet of Central Park. First floor, shops and a doorman. Second floor, precious little cafe. Third floor, gym, residents only. Residents on floors 4 through… Read More Attain

“Speed limit?” I really think the trooper is going to hit me. It takes everything I have not to turn my head and brace for the hit. I don’t. I don’t give him the satisfaction. I hope that pisses him off enough to hit me. He asks again, like I didn’t understand: “How the fuck… Read More arrest

I’ve decided to write more. To this end I am setting myself on a project. It will not be a novel, but the end product will be a book-length collection of related short stories. The goal of the project is to write stories into which I can put a bit of warm blood. If for… Read More Outline for The Invisible Hand