Treasure hunt

Going too far

Peter arrived in front of Pierre's house his mind swimming in worries. He had left the girls on their own at home. He had waited for two hours after they had fallen asleep, to make sure they were deep in their sleep. Then, as he made his way to Pierre's family home, he had worried the entire time on what would happen if either of them woke up only to find that he was not there. At the same time, he'd only managed to follow through with his plan because of them. He was convinced that this was the way out, the only way. This would be the price that they have to pay for that.

The house was in Argenteuil, not too far for Peter. It was a typical suburban home with a small garden surrounding it, located in a quiet street. Peter felt a little out place, being the only person walking in the darkness so late in the night, but he had bigger worries on his mind. The house was engulfed in darkness except for lights shone at it from the street lights. Everyone appeared to be sleeping.

For the past weeks, Peter had planned this night. His goal: finding a document that had Pierre's signature. He was banking on the fact that his wife must still have documents of his signed at home. He had bought a lock picking kit online and had practised on every door he could find a locked door. He was confident that he would be able to pick the door lock of this house as well. His main worry was whether he would be able to be silent enough. But only time would tell.

During his preparation, he had also set the other parts of his plan in motion. He had tried to contract a deposit box at a bank in the city centre. But after failing to find a way for his name not to appear on the contract, he had decided to go with a less secure option hoping it would be just as good. He had also made two copies of the notebook. His plan would not work if he was not able to investigate as well, and for that, he needed a copy of the notebook.

That night was the last part of his plan: the signature for the forged letter. After standing a few minutes in the shadows on the side of the street, he worked his courage up and headed towards the house. The screeching gate gave him pause, but once again, the thought of his daughters sleeping at home pushed him to forge onwards. He made it to the house's front door, looking back at the street and the neighbouring houses to check if anyone was watching.

At the door, he grabbed the tools that he had trained with. He got to work, and within seconds, the lock popped. He was in. He pushed the door slowly, it was also squeaky but not as bad as the gate. He slowly made his way in, the torch-lamp app of his phone on. This was his only source of light once he closed the door behind him.

He found himself in a hallway with stairs upfront, a door to the left and one to the right. He delicately, and as silently as he could, made his way to the room behind the door on the left. It was the living room. It had several shelves filled with books and a few number binders. Driven by the thought that he might have gotten lucky, he made his way to the shelf in the dark, turning off his phone worried that people outside might see him through the large window overlooking the street.

He grabbed one of the binders, placed it on the nearby table and started sifting through it. This time, he had his phone lamp on. He did his best to shield it from view, focusing only on the binder. He ran through page after page, but he found nothing. He knew he was on the right track, though. These were contracts. He did not know for what, he did not want to either way. All he was looking for were handwritten signatures. Finally, he came upon one such signature towards the end of the binder. They were even two on the same page. He turned off the torch-lamp app and opened the camera app. He put some distance between his phone and the paper and pressed the shutter icon. A flash of light illuminated the entire room for a split second, and then the image appeared on his screen. The signatures were perfectly visible.

As he was about to close the binder, he heard a creaking above his head. It was coming from the wooden floorboards on the first floor. Someone must have woken up. Without thinking, he turned around, and was about to rush out - the last thing he wanted was to get caught - but found himself in front of a man. He was laying across the entire length of the sofa, which Peter had not spotted so far. Peter paused, attempting to see whether the man was still asleep or if he had been woken up by the flash. The man moved slightly, but he appeared to be asleep still.

More delicately this time, Peter walked around the sofa. The flood boards on the first floor were creaking more and more. Someone was walking up there, perhaps Pierre's wife. Peter hurried and made it to the front door. He opened it slowly and got out. Once out, he made a run for it, not looking back, to the gate and up the street. Within minutes, he had returned to the main city centre. His mission had been accomplished.