The Spade

Vladimir Ross

All was going well for Nazar. Before noon, he had stolen enough wallets to last him for a considerable length of time. However, he had also managed to steal a note that would throw his life into disarray. Nazar suddenly finds himself tossed into a situation he never could have imagined as he tries to desperately hunt down a man he knows nothing about. He’s quickly running out of time and growing more and more desperate. Fortunately, he knows exactly who to call.

The Spade

Vladimir Ross

Translator Paul Lucken

Cover designer Nada Orlic

Editor Nicole Stepanek

© Vladimir Ross, 2017

© Paul Lucken, translation, 2017

© Nada Orlic, cover design, 2017

ISBNВ 978-5-4483-9333-4

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

The Spade

In the criminal world, a “shovel” or “spade” is slang for an especially full wallet. The word commonly refers to the large purses of the modern day Russian, although to be accurate, many today use attaché cases. What’s to be done? Money breeds money, and increasing amounts of money require increasing amounts of space in which to carry it.

Such spades represent the kind ofВ accessories criminals lust after. Whether it was because ofВ his noble heart or his own financial difficulties, Nazar rarely made use ofВ such flashy displays ofВ wealth, choosing toВ save his earnings rather than show them off. Nazar had bigger concerns than fashion trends and social status.

Today everything was going splendidly. Four fresh wallets were in his possession by lunchtime. The promise of the day’s harvest nearly compelled him to break from the routine process: allocate the “processing fee,” exchange the notes, and liquidate any noncash items from the emptied wallets. However, he dismissed the thought due to his sense of professionalism and self-preservation. The young man religiously observed the principles of thievery and would not deviate from them. Many thieves would dare to risk a violent act should they be caught or a question of their honor arise, but none would be so foolish as to provoke law-abiding citizens by going through their stolen fortunes in a public place. That would be a foolish disregard of the basic laws of the trade. Nazar held himself to a higher standard and belonged to the elites who did the same.

Leaving his home territory ofВ bus route No. 12, he walked toВ the parking lot where he had left his old Volvo. He walked past aВ stack ofВ full, discarded suitcases some hapless citizens had forgotten.

Interesting thing, life, thought Nazar. These days there is an uproar over the condition ofВ the poor and the hardships they suffer and yet, they go and leave all ofВ this luggage piled up like chuck beef inВ aВ refrigerator.

The sad realization that he was only attributing to these hardships weighed heavily on him. Recently, evaluating his own strengths, Nazar was trying to work up from the ranks of petty thieves and pickpockets. He knew he was bound for a higher class in the criminal hierarchy. Money and jewelry were becoming harder to come across, and the cost of produce was beginning to reflect the local fears of an oncoming siege. Whether it was the bombing in Syria, the formation of ISIS, or the fatal conflict between North Korea and Japan, the habits of man always tend to bring forth the fear of an impending war. For Nazar, the thought of dying in combat didn’t seem nearly as frightening as dying of starvation.

Inside the sanctuary of his car, he slowly pulled a spade out from his pocket and looked appreciatively at his prey. At first glance it didn’t promise to be anything special. But one thing did stand out. The letters “P.N.” were embossed on the leather, and in addition, the wallet was of a suspicious volume. Weighing the record-breaker in his palm, Nazar grinned. A pleasant feeling was flowing through his bones, leaving a thrilling warmth.

Reeling, he felt an unexpected sense o