They were not supposed to be here. Garak cursed silently to himself as he listened to the old couple from the cracked attic door. They were supposed to be at the theater. The show still had another hour to go and that would have given the wiry man more than enough time to take what caught his fancy and slip out unnoticed. He probably could have made himself a fine little dinner from their larders to boot. But all chance of that fled out the same window he had come through when their carriage pulled up the drive.
Upset stomach. Garak again cursed his poor luck as well as the shoddy intestinal fortitude of the elderly. There goes the chance of a clean, quick job. Garak quietly closed the attic door and decided to take full stock of his current surroundings. Looked like there was plenty of stuff up here, though. There wouldn’t be the good silver or jewelry, but old family heirlooms could bring a hefty amount of coin if you knew where to sell them. And if Garak was honest with himself, he just didn’t feel like bashing anyone tonight, even if the chances of getting hurt in return were almost nonexistent. Maybe I’m getting old, he thought to himself with a soft chuckle, his gaze falling upon a large portrait hanging at the back of the room. The moon streamed through the small window above, illuminating the painting well enough that Garak could just make out the inscription at the bottom. “A true mother never rests.”
Garak rolled his eyes as he moved on to investigate a few chests that he had spotted in the corner. The pretense of the rich never ceased to amaze him. A burglar never rests. Now that’s a universal truth. Garak again chuckled softly as he picked open the chests. He was far too amused with himself to hear the door lock behind him.
Or to see the specter of the woman crawling out of the portrait and into the moonlit room.
This Map Pack includes: