Chapter 73 pickpocket

I was sitting in the plush lounge of the Holiday Inn, flipping through a magazine when the woman in the dark dungaree was picking Stone pockets. , She stripped very beautifully.Stone is a self-indulgent old gentleman with a cane, and he is worth 150 million in California.He just got out of a fancy elevator across from me.The woman walked across the marble stairs, hurriedly, deliberately pretending to be absent-minded, and bumped into Stone.She hurriedly apologized, revealing her beautiful dimples, and Stone bowed politely, saying it didn't matter.She ripped his wallet and the diamond clip from his tie without him knowing or suspecting.She hurried to the exit opposite the lounge while putting the stolen items into her handbag.I immediately left my seat and chased after him quickly and cautiously.She was through the pots of plants and almost to the glass door before I caught up with her.

I grabbed her by the shoulder and said with a smile, "I'm sorry, please wait." She froze for a moment.Then turned and looked at me like I'd just popped out of those bonsai.She said coldly, "What did you say?" "You and I had better talk." "I generally don't talk to strange men." "I think I'm an exception." Her brown eyes flashed angrily, and she said, "I suggest you let go of my arm, and if you don't let go, I'll call the manager." "You know, I'm the security officer for the Holiday Inn," I told her.

She turned pale. I lead her through the arched entrance to the hotel dining room, which is not far to our left.She didn't resist.I seated her in a leather chair and sat across from her.A waiter in a blue uniform came up and I shook my head and he walked away. I looked at the woman across the table. She had a classic face, pure and innocent, and her brown hair was a little curly.I guess she was about twenty-five or so. I said calmly: "Without a doubt, you are the most beautiful of the three hands I have met." "I—I don't know what you're talking about." "Three hands are pickpockets."

She pretended to be angry: "Are you talking about me?" "Oh, come on," I said. "There's no need to play dumb anymore. I see your wallet and his diamond tiepin, and I'm sitting directly across from the elevator, fifteen feet away." She said nothing more, fiddling with the strap of the handbag with her fingers, sighed in pain and said, "You are right, yes, I stole those things." I reached over, gently took the bag from her, and opened it.Stone's wallet and tie were clipped on top of various feminine items in the bag—I dug out her ID, jotted down her name and address, then retrieved her stolen items and returned the bag to her.

She said softly: "I, I'm not a thief, I want you to know, I'm not a real thief." She bit her lower lip tremblingly. "I have a strong kleptomania and I can't control myself." "Kleptomania?" "Yes, I've seen three psychiatrists in the last year, but they couldn't treat me." I shook my head sympathetically: "This must be terrible for you." "It's scary," she agrees. "My father knows this and will send me to a mental hospital!" Her voice trembled. "He warned me that if he stole anything more, he would send me to the hospital."

I said lightly, "Your father won't know what happened here today." "He—he wouldn't know?" "Yes," I said slowly. "Mr. Stone will get his wallet and pins back. I don't think there's any need to make a fuss about it. It's not good for the hotel either." Her face brightened. "So... are you going to let me go?" I sighed: "I think I'm too soft-hearted. Yes, I'm going to let you go, but you have to promise me that you won't go into the Holiday Inn again." "Oh, I promise." "If I see you here in the future, I will call the police."

"No!" she assured me eagerly. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to see another psychiatrist who I believe can help me." I nod. "Fine, then—" I turned to look at the customers outside the arched dining room door.When I turned back again, the door of the restaurant to the street was just closed, and the woman was gone. I sat there for a while.Think about her.I think she is a very skilled professional pickpocket - she is too skilled.Plus, she's pretty good at lying. I smiled to myself, stood up, and walked into the lounge again.But instead of returning to my old seat, I casually walked through the glass doors and out onto the street.

As I walked into the crowd, my right hand rested lightly on the thick wallet and pins in my coat pocket.I found myself feeling a little sorry for that woman. In fact; Stone had been my target since she entered the Holiday Inn that day, and after three hours of waiting, within fifteen seconds of my pickpocketing, she suddenly appeared.