Rhinoceros: Ryon's story 7
Thursday
What's the big deal? Why go on about it? I robbed his flat. So what? I've already said, I rob things for money. I'm not getting a proper job soon, am I? That’s why I’m here. Persistent offender. Hopeless case.
What a bastard thing to do, you’re probably thinking, after all I said about him.
All that time he gave me, money he ‘lent’ me, lifts he gave me. And then his wife left him (no surprise there) and he moved into that scummy flat and stayed the same old Mr Scope at school. Talk about kicking a man when he’s down.
But what else could I do? I always played a careful game with the Mitchelsons. If they wanted something specific I’d always give myself as long a timescale as possible. A week, I’d say, four days tops. And they knew not to push me because I came up with the goods. The long timescale gave me more opportunities. Case a house, check ways in, give it a go. And if it’s going wrong, walk away. Never, ever push your luck. I learned that from Robert de Niro in Heat. Even if the prize is within your grasp, if it’s getting too risky, get out quick. There’s always another night. And if I’m lucky first time, it’s a bonus. A few free evenings for the rest of the week.
You see the other thing is I wasn’t that greedy. I’m not bothered about fancy stuff, other than a good telly. I like my food, I need fags, a bit of weed, a trackie, trainers . And that’s about it. Don't want a car. A lot of my mates did TWOCking, but I couldn’t be arsed. Dicking about in a car was one for the losers. I might be a hopeless case, but I'm no fucking loser.
(Get on with it, I bet Frank’s thinking.)
Over time I found out a lot about Mr Scope. As I said, his wife left him, and he had to move into a flat. He even had some left over stuff – furniture, mostly – that didn’t fit in which he offered to me and mum. Which was good of him, but as I said, we don’t need fucking charity.
I also knew he was forgetful. Honestly, he forgot absolutely everything. Used to leave his keys and fob on his desk nearly every day. Teachers are meant to keep them held tight or hidden away ‘cause half the doors in school are kept locked by these crappy magnets. In the early days I used to nick his fob and have a run around, but that got boring, and eventually I just gave them back to him. I felt sorry for him when the Head kept having a go at him for being unprofessional.
One day in school he had a call and I overheard him. It was from a neighbour in the block of flats he’s moved into saying he’d left his front door open AGAIN. Interesting, I thought. He’s a bit of a sad geezer, probably not got a lot of tech, but there’s bound to be something. And the Mitchelsons were after small stuff at that point – iPods, cameras, phones, especially iPhones, Blackberries, that sort of thing.
So I waited. It was winter, so dark early, which helped. And on this particular day he said to Mrs Fellows that he was going to stay a bit and get that display sorted out, get the Head off his back. Perfect.
So off I toddled.
Too easy, you're thinking. No-one would do that. But I'm not anyone else, I'm me. When it comes to it, I don't really care. Besides, he's so dim he wouldn't even notice anything missing. Specially not a little camera.
