The Band of Rotten: A Sanders Sides Story

The Lost Scientist

England 1860

He ran past through the crowd, jostling through shoulders in the packed City of London. It was rather fortunate his briefcase was not stolen in the middle of the city as it would be more crowded. Then it would be nigh impossible to keep the thief in his sight. He jumped over the drum of wine toppled before him and managed to gain balance before his shoes slip on the muddy street. From the distance, he could hear the cheer of a woman.

"Yes! Get that rascal!" the woman yelled as he rushed past.

Logan had always been a fast runner. His gaits were longer than most people, which made sense considering the fact that he towered over most people he knew. Even so, people back home never cared. He held on to his hat as he jumped over another toppled drum, finally starting to catch up with the tricky thief. That briefcase was his whole life. He had nothing else aside from his work—which he desperately needed if he ever wanted to find a job in Britain.

He quickly realized the thief's mistake of wandering into the city. There were a few policemen on patrol, so the thief halted in his step for a split second before sharply turning left. This seemed to be another mistake as he was now faced with tightly knit houses with only a few meters of gap between them. Logan followed the thief into the narrow pathway until they were trapped in a dead-end.

"There is no way out," Logan said as he drew a deep breath. He blocked the exit way with his body, trapping the thief in the back of the alley. "You will give me my briefcase, or I will go back and report you to the authority."

"Mate, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not? Theft is illegal. And by your speed and skill with slight of hand, you must have been a thief for a long time. And seeing you have made the mistake of going into the city where the police would patrol, as well as trapping yourself in this alleyway, I would assume your territory of theft is in the outskirts of the city rather than inside." Logan rambled on, observing the thief standing nervously in front of him. "You do seem to have adequate knowledge of ways inside the city—as you gave me directions earlier—so you must be from this very city. Familiarity does not come in an instant."

The thief rolled his eyes in a show of nonchalance, though his mind was drenched with anxiety. Who is this man that he knew details of his thieving? He could imagine someone creating a detective-type character based off of this man. His name would be something weird and unusual, like... Sherlock Holmes or something of the like. He still had an iron grip on the man's briefcase, sweat starting to form under his palm with how severe his grip was. Keeping an eye-contact with the man, he opened the clasps which kept the briefcase sealed and flipped the leather flap open.

"Hey! Do not touch anything in there," Logan barked in an attempt to stop the thief to stop. He could have wrestled the briefcase out of the thief's hand, but seeing an outline of a knife through the thin fabric of his pants, Logan couldn't risk his own safety. At the same time, he didn't want any amount of his work to be destroyed by accident by a filthy thief. "Stop, or I will shout."

"Alright, alright!" Still, the thief looked down into the briefcase to see nothing but papers. He sighed in disappointment upon finding no money or food. "What are these papers? An intellectual, aren't you?"

"That is, I believe, none of your business. Now please give that back to me."

"Oh dear, no one has ever spoken politely to a simple thief such as I," the thief spoke mockingly with an easy smirk. To Logan's surprise, the thief held his briefcase for him to take.

"You're just going to give that back? This seems a little too easy."

"Alright, do you want me to make it difficult, mate?"