Perfect Heist

Chapter Two

Sitting with the other applicants for a single job at a London museum, Serena felt as if she were in a waiting room at the doctor's. Two lines of people, young and old, sat opposite each other chatting away about their qualifications and their lives. There was one seat left at the end of the second row and she made her way towards it, her high heels clicking loudly on the hard marble floor. The others gazed at her coldly, anxious her stunning looks might land her the job, and the elderly bearded man she sat next to totally ignored her, taking a dog-eared book of Anglo-Saxon poetry out of his anorak and reading it intently. Serena wanted to scream. This was the third museum interview she'd attended during the first two weeks of September and they'd all been very similar - dozens of candidates vying for one vacancy and hoping against all odds they would get it. Even so, Serena had waited to be called on both occasions and would do the same today. She was no different from the others around her. She was desperate for work too.

After a couple of hours, to break the monotony and ease her aching back, she got up and went to get a drink from the water dispenser down the hall. As she was filling the white plastic cup, she heard the low murmur of voices coming from a half-closed door beside her. It was some members of the interviewing panel talking amongst themselves in obvious annoyance...

"Can't we drop this pretence and go home?"

"I agree. It's a farce! Sir Brandon's already given this job to his nephew so this is all a complete waste of time."

"No, it's not! It must be seen to be fair, even if it isn't."

A moment later, another door opened down the corridor and a commanding voice announced, "Ms Serena Kruger!"

Sitting in the interview room, Serena gave everyone her sweetest smile and crossed her legs, allowing a tantalising glimpse of her thighs in her very short skirt.

"So tell us please, Ms Kruger, what do you feel you can bring to this important position at the museum?" asked Sir Brandon, sitting in the centre of the interviewing panel.

"A bit of life," she answered immediately.

There was a puzzled silence. Serena sat back and crossed her legs in the other direction. "It's pretty dead in here, don't you think? It's about as exciting as watching paint dry. More mortuary than museum. You need some fun stuff to liven up this place. Maybe a brass band or some karaoke and...yeah...some strippers for the lust-thirsty rich men killing time on Sunday afternoon before they take their kids to Sunday club."

"I take it you're not serious about taking this position, young lady," Sir Brandon said icily.

"I take it you're not serious about offering it to me, old man," retorted Serena, getting up and walking out.

***

"Kommen, Fraulein Kruger," said the editor of Die Deutsche Langen Kompanie," a publisher in the East End of London that specialised in translating medical textbooks from German into English. "Kommen, bitte." Serena felt like a character in a Dickens novel as she followed the little man with his bald head and round glasses up some steep wooden stairs with books piled up either side so there was only the narrowest passage in between. Glad I didn't wear my heels today she thought as she rounded a narrow corner and saw with dismay there was another long flight of stairs above. When at last they reached the top, the office was dark and dusty with some droppings in the corner and the occasional scuffling behind the skirting boards indicating the presence of mice. They don't bother me, but good job Joyce isn't here. She'd lose it big-time...Realising he was indicating a shabby leather chair in front of his paper-strewn desk, she sat down and looked attentive.

"Guten tag, Fraulein. My name is Kurt Jaeger and I'd like to offer you the vacant job of Assistant Translator. "

"No interview?"