A World of Thieves

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The jury, passing on the prisoner’s life, May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try.

—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, MEASURE FOR MEASURE

Howsoever a man’s nature be bent, be it even to thieving and violent mischief, he must hold true to it or be miserable in his soul.

—ANONYMOUS

Pike: I’d like to make one good score and back off. Dutch: Back off to what?

—WALON GREEN AND SAM PECKINPAH, THE WILD BUNCH

All the trouble I ever was in was caused by getting caught.

—CORMAC MC CARTHY, CHILD OF GOD

I

A steeple bell rang the noon hour as Buck and Russell tugged their hatbrims low over their sunglasses and went into the bank. I watched from the car, the engine throbbing into the steering wheel under my hands. We’d nabbed the Packard in Baton Rouge and would abandon it down in Plaquemine, where we’d left Buck’s Model A parked beside the police station. Buck said it was the safest place for it. “World’s full of damned thieves,” he’d said, grinning big. “A man can’t be too careful.” I said I’d always wondered if that meant a man could never be careful enough or that he couldn’t be excessively careful. Buck looked at me like I was speaking Chinese. Russell said he only hoped the car didn’t have a red light on the roof and “Police Department” painted on the sides by the time we came back for it.

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