David Hosp: Among Thieves

When the questions had been read and the answers given, the woman said, “That’s it. If you got fifty dollars, you’re married.”

Kozlowski and Lissa looked at each other. Finn couldn’t tell whether they seemed different. “Do I kiss the bride?” Kozlowski asked.

The assistant clerk shrugged. “I guess. Long as you got the fifty dollars.”

Finn dug into his pocket and pulled out three twenties and handed them to her. “I got it,” he said. “You can keep the rest.”

The woman took the money and stamped two forms in triplicate. “You want the receipt?” she asked Finn.

He shook his head.

“Now?” Kozlowski asked.

“Yeah, now,” the woman replied.

Finn watched as Kozlowski and Lissa leaned into each other. They seemed awkward about the kiss, even after living together for nearly a year. Finn wondered whether everything had changed, and worried briefly that they might not make it. As soon as their lips touched, though, he could see both of them relax and they melded into each other, all tension gone.

The assistant clerk left before the kiss was over. “Congratulations,” Finn said.

“Thanks,” Lissa replied. They took the escalator up from the basement. The building’s interior made its facade look cozy. When they got to the main floor Lissa said, “Shit.” Looking at Sally, she corrected herself. “Shoot. I left the marriage license on the counter.” She looked at Finn. “Come back with me?”

“Sure,” Finn said. He looked at Sally. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here.”

On the escalator down, Lissa said, “She seems to be doing okay.”

Finn nodded. “I think she is. She’s got her good days and her bad days. The good outweigh the bad at this point.”

“I’m glad,” Lissa said. “How are you doing?”

Kozlowski stood in City Hall’s cavernous lobby, waiting for Finn to return with his wife. My wife, he thought. The reality staggered him. He’d given up on the notion of marriage years ago. He’d figured he was past the point where anyone could fall in love for the first time. He’d been wrong.

The girl was there with him, standing a few feet away, looking at him. He tried to avoid her gaze, but found it difficult. He couldn’t figure out why she was staring. It took a minute before he realized he was smiling. “What?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” she said. “I didn’t know you smiled.”

“I don’t.”

“Me neither. You should do it more. The scar doesn’t look so bad.”

He grunted. After a moment, he said, “So, how are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Finn treating you okay? Making sure you get enough to eat?”

“He’s okay,” she said. “He doesn’t seem like a perv.”

“High praise.”

“I don’t mean it that way. I mean it’s good. It’s just weird.”

“What is?” he asked.

She thought about it. “I never had a normal life before. I’m not used to it.”

He looked her up and down. She was wearing a dress. Her feet were still covered in her heavy black boots, but it was the first time he’d seen her in anything other than sweats. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said.

“You think?”

He nodded. “I can usually tell. You keep the right people around you, you’ll do fine.”

She seemed to accept it. “You’re gonna be okay, too,” she said.

“You think?”

She nodded. “Just put the toilet seat down. Devon never caught on; I almost fell in a couple times. He said he was too old to change. Don’t be like that. Don’t be too old to change. You leave the seat up, you’ll lose her.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

She looked toward the escalator, and Kozlowski had the impression she was looking over to see whether Finn was coming back. He’d disagreed with Finn about taking her in while they figured out what to do. Now, though, he thought it had been good for her.

“I’m fine,” Finn said. Looking at Lissa, he could tell she was skeptical. “I’m serious.” No decisions had been made regarding Sally, but she was still staying with Finn. They both knew that the time was approaching when they would have to figure out something permanent.

She frowned. “It can’t go on like this, boss. You know that, right?”

“I know. Did I mention that you look great?” She did, too. As promised, she hadn’t worn white. She was a realist, not a romantic.

“That’s nice of you. I feel like shit.”

“Morning sickness ends after the first trimester, right?” he asked. “You must be there almost.”

“Almost. They say it’s different for everyone, though. And you’re changing the subject.”

“I am.”

“You can’t do it,” she said. “Not anymore. A kid isn’t like a girlfriend. You can’t string them along forever while you make up your mind. Kids can’t defend themselves the way we can.”

“Have you met Sally?”

“Oh, please, Finn. Can you even see the way she looks at you? You’re like her hero. She looks at you like a lucky kid looks at their father. She looks at you like maybe she’s gonna have someone in her life who’s gonna look after her. Take care of her. The way her parents should have. You need to recognize that. You need to see it and deal with it. Because if you let it go any further-if you let her get comfortable-and then you cut her loose… God help you.”

“I know,” Finn said. “I’m still trying to figure it out. I thought having her around would be a pain in the ass. I thought I’d hate it. Truth is, I don’t.”

“Great. Just realize what you’d be getting yourself into. Once you’re really in, there’s no going back.”

Finn nodded. “I’ll get it figured out.”

“Soon,” Lissa said. She looked at him for another moment as they headed back to Kozlowski and Sally. “Is there anything else bothering you?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “What else could be bothering me?” He wondered whether she would ask about the paintings. He wasn’t sure what he would say. She didn’t ask, though; she simply stepped up on tiptoe, pulled down on his shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead. He was grateful; he wouldn’t have enjoyed lying to her.

He’d kept his word to her for a couple of weeks: he’d given up on the investigation into the stolen artwork. He tried to keep the promise longer, but the questions swirled in his mind. What he knew and what he suspected danced together seductively until he was obsessed. And so, on his own, at night, he would surf the Internet for every scrap of additional information he could get-about the Gardner robbery and anyone who might have had anything to do with it. When that wasn’t enough, he tapped some of the other private investigators he sometimes used for jobs not worth Kozlowski’s time. He kept his obsession hidden from Lissa and Kozlowski.

On the Friday afternoon before the Fourth of July, a week after Lissa and Kozlowski got married, he pulled his notes together and went over them one final time. There was no way for him to avoid it anymore. With a heavy sigh, he placed the call. Then he walked outside, climbed into his car, and drove to the museum.

As he walked through the front door, he half expected alarms to go off and security guards to rush at him accusingly, as if he were the reason the paintings had been lost again. It didn’t happen, of course. The woman at the front desk didn’t even notice him as she took the twelve-dollar admission fee. There was a security guard walking by, and he glanced at Finn, nodded politely, and moved on.

Finn climbed the staircase slowly. The place didn’t feel the same as it had when he and Kozlowski first went there. The theft had been theoretical to him then. A myth. The events of twenty years earlier hadn’t affected his life yet. Now the robbery felt personal to him; it seemed an affront in the most intimate sense.