Chapter 37: Chapter 37: What’s Legal and What’s Right

I found myself in the library once again. Grandpa sat in the same chair, and I took the same position as before.

“Are we repeating our previous encounter?” I asked.

“I hope not,” Grandpa said.

“That depends on you. I’ve decided on my path.”

“Please,” Grandpa said, his voice toneless, “help me understand.”

“What’s there to explain about helping people?”

He rubbed his temple. “It’s not that you help people, but the manner in which you do it. What made you pick this?”

I wasn’t certain how to answer. Perhaps the answer lay with when I conned Marius – it was after that job the idea came to me. Or perhaps it went further back – back to my time at Saint Delacroix’s Ladies Academy, back to my time spent with Andrea Belmont. Who’s to say? I could only think of one constant between it and every other circumstance.

“Do you remember when you told me that few people possess the advantages I have? And that I have an obligation to use those advantages?”

Grandpa nodded. “What does that have to do with committing crimes?”

My thoughts snapped between multiple past jobs.

My debut, a museum heist where I stole and smuggled cultural artifacts back to their country of origin, manifested first. The law failed to return their possessions, rationalizing it as “safer” here. A heist was the only option for a guaranteed solution.

Another incident of note was The Eisner Treasure Hunt – a predicament you might have heard about last year which endangered and ended lives. I solved the mystery Mr. Eisner created. I ended his deadly treasure hunt when all the police could do was request its conclusion.

And, of course, I could cite the very job I was on.

“If there’s one thing I’ve found,” I said, “it’s that playing by the rules doesn’t necessarily place one in the right. There are so many who fall through the cracks and suffer despite not deserving it. There are many more who are exploited by those with power, who the law can’t or won’t deter. Narcissa is a milder example of this. That’s why I decided to become The Grandmaster of Theft. We fill the gap between what’s legal and what’s right.”

“What about the dangers?”

“While it is a risk, it’s less risky for me, given who I am. I’m better equipped than most for navigating and surviving the underworld.”

Grandpa wagged his head. “Not those dangers. The dangers to your soul. How do you know you’re in the right? How do you stop yourself from becoming just another criminal?”

“CassCain69 wouldn’t still exist on Chatter if I was incapable of self-control.”

Grandpa’s face rumpled with annoyance.

I sighed. “I’m not a killer and I don’t profit at the expense of those who can’t afford it.”

“Nobody starts as evil. What’s to stop you from becoming a monster?”

I said nothing. What could I say? I had a code, at the least. It provided something, but I doubt the answer would appease him. I doubted anything I could’ve said would appease him. Maybe I shouldn’t be the one to say it? I mused.

“If you want to help others,” Grandpa continued, “there are other paths. When I told you about your duty, I meant to be responsible for how you use your power with the company. You can do a lot of good through it. You can also impact people through politics.”

“Those methods don’t connect me to the atypical. Nor are they always swift enough.”

“It’s a necessary tradeoff,” Grandpa said.

“Perhaps risking my soul is the necessary tradeoff of my work. I believe it’s worth the risk. It’s better than doing nothing. Besides, any action, whether lawful or illicit, can lead one astray. I could make compromises upon compromises working within the law, lobbying people, figuring out how to appeal to someone, or deciding things best for the company until I end up as someone I don’t wish to be as well. If I’m going to risk my soul regardless of the route I take, I wish to risk it with something I believe in.”

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Grandpa dropped his head back and let out a sigh. “…What’s your plan from here on?”

“Apologies, sir, but I think it best I keep those particulars a mystery. Your knowing could make my disappearance much more—”

“Not that plan. Your other plan, for if I agreed. You planned with branches, yes?”

“There’s no point in explaining it. It’s unworkable.”

“Is it unworkable because of me or because of something else?”

I frowned. “The former.”

“I see…” Grandpa straightened himself. “I still don’t approve of this life you’re so intent on living, but I don’t wish to see you become a fugitive either. So, let’s compromise; I won’t turn you in so long as you give me some say over what you do as a criminal.”

“You wish to…supervise?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

A jolt surged through me as the thread of hope materialized before me. “Would you be willing to lend a hand?”

“It depends. We’ll figure this out on a case-by-case basis. Starting with this case. Tell me what you have in mind.”

I nodded. The arrangement was, after all, better than the alternatives. I wouldn’t call it ideal, but since he chose to dip his feet into the proverbial lake, I could work with it. I reassured myself with the saying “a cup is filled one drop at a time” before disclosing my scheme to humiliate Narcissa at the gala.

Grandpa kept his face impassive throughout – I suspect it was his way of concealing his disapproval of my tactics – but when I finished, he didn’t reject what I said. Instead, he asked a question.

“Do you have any plans for Gale?”

“His investigation is an off-the-books project, correct?”

Grandpa confirmed my assessment with a nod.

For the record, I figured as much based on the lack of protocol and his recruitment of my grandfather. He had no reason to bring formal charges against me yet.

“I doubt he’ll be much of a problem from this point on,” I said. “He’ll have his hands filled protecting Alana.”

“Theoretically, but you shouldn’t underestimate him.”

It should go without saying I wasn’t going to underestimate Gale. While I hadn’t dealt with him much directly, he was one of the two manufacturers of the challenges I faced throughout the job. Grandpa’s actions were as much an extension of Gale’s machinations as Narcissa, Wyatt, and The Damatessa’s were of Vincent’s.

“How has his investigation into my alibi gone?” I asked.

“He concluded it yesterday. You bore what scrutiny he could afford.”

I chewed on my inner cheek while wondering if my alibi would suffice. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, I told myself once more before shifting my thoughts to how I could maneuver him some more.

“Narcissa will release a message tonight,” I said, “to antagonize The Grandmaster. If I’m Gale, I… I prioritize Alana’s safety first and foremost. The biggest potential hazard is The Grandmaster attacking The Gala, endangering Alana. Thus, I’d either persuade Alana against going or, assuming she cannot be swayed, I’d integrate myself into the security team.”

My eyes bulged. Both routes lead to potential troubles. If Alana decided against attending, Gale had free rein to investigate me the night of the gala – which could complicate matters. If she attended and he integrated himself, then there lay a chance he’d meet with Vincent and share his suspicions and findings. I doubted Vincent would disclose what he uncovered, but I didn’t wish for him to learn of my absences on those two separate occasions. I’m certain he would discern the truth.

I must neutralize Gale while I still can, I concluded before crossing my arms and sealing my eyes. Fortunately, an addition to my scheme manifested with ease.

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