Scene 4

SCENE 4.

(A workshop. MAN and HARRY are working on various items. A newspaper on a chair.)

MAN.

I swear, I wasn't looking at anything in particular and it just came to me. Anyway, for the moment the grovelling to the hormonal girlfriend will have to wait. I need to work on this. I know what she thinks, that it's something to do with another woman. Honestly, Caitlin’s the only girl for me, but once you tell a woman that they start getting funny ideas and using the word ‘commitment’ in every other sentence. That, and wanting to talk about 'the relationship' when the football is on.

HARRY.

It really annoys me when someone does that. And I think you need to check the wiring.

MAN.

I've got a question for you. How do you make an elephant disappear? No, I kid you not. It’s an old trick of Houdini’s, he shows the audience the empty cabinet on wheels, shows the underneath ruling out any trapdoors. Elephant goes into the cabinet, a little theatrical flourish from Houdini, cabinet is opened and the elephant is nowhere to be seen. Of course it’s all down to mirrors which led to the old joke about five men pushing the cabinet on and twenty five pushing it off again. But there’s another blindingly obvious way of making the elephant disappear from the cabinet and that’s what gave me the idea. It was one of those 'eureka' moments; the high-rise car park, the bike, the van, the box of sand that wasn’t, the wire and the workman’s hut. I get the diamond and humiliate a certain Assistant Commissioner of Police. What do you think?

HARRY.

Sorry, I wasn't listening. Anyway, I think it's done. I'll check the rest of the equipment.

Knocking on the door. Enter CAITLIN with cups and buns.

CAITLIN.

It's only me. Can I come in? I’ve brought Cappuccinos.

MAN.

Cappuccinos?

CAITLIN.

And muffins, the ones you like, with the chocolate on top.

MAN.

Caitlin?

CAITLIN.

Yes?

MAN.

Why are you here?

CAITLIN.

I worry about you. (Spots HARRY.)Oh, hello, I didn't realise you had company.

HARRY.

Hi.

CAITLIN.

(to MAN.) Could I have word with you a moment?

MAN and CAITLIN move to one side.

MAN.

Yes?

CAITLIN.

Who, exactly, is that woman?

MAN.

(looks around.) What woman? Oh, that's Harry.

CAITLIN.

Harry?

MAN.

You know, 'Harry'.

CAITLIN.

That's 'Harry'! You said he was a man.

MAN.

No I didn't.

CAITLIN.

But all those times you said you were going to Murphys to watch 'the football', with 'Harry', you mean, (coldly) you were with her?

MAN.

She's a United supporter.

CAITLIN.

Oh is she really, well that makes it all right then.

HARRY.

Okay that's done. I think you are good to go. If you don't mind I'll push off now. I'm meeting Tina at seven.

MAN.

How's that going by the way?

HARRY.

I think this is really it this time.

MAN.

After last time?

HARRY.

I know, I feel guilty, especially after everything you did.

CAITLIN.

And what did he do exactly?

HARRY.

He introduced me to my last girlfriend.

CAITLIN.

She wasn't from Mexico by any chance?

HARRY.

No, why?

CAITLIN.

Just checking.

HARRY.

See you later, and good luck.

Exit HARRY.

MAN.

So, how did you find my super-secret lair?

CAITLIN.

I've told you before I always know where you are. If not precisely whom you are with. Anyway, been reading the paper I see?

MAN.

It's getting serious, United have lost another central defender to injury.

CAITLIN.

I meant, you've read the story on page three, that gang’s moved into France, they hit a couple of galleries, shot three policemen. Massive stink about it all.

MAN.

Don’t get involved unless you really have to, that’s always been my motto.

CAITLIN.

You so public spirited. (Wanders about examining various things. ) Well, you certainly seem to have been busy.

MAN.

What do you think?

CAITLIN.

Hmm.

MAN.

Is that Caitlin-speak for; this really isn't a good idea?

CAITLIN.

I didn't say a word.

MAN.

It will work. The Verlinski's as good as mine already.

CAITLIN.

I’m sure you’re right dear.

MAN.

Look. (Holds up a 'phone'.) This is something Harry knocked up, looks like a phone but really it intercepts and automatically decrypts all the police frequencies.

CAITLIN.

That was clever of her.

MAN.

Yes, well, anyway, I enter through the roof area.

CAITLIN.

Alarms?

MAN.

It will take less than three minutes to disable the alarms and loop the video feed.

CAITLIN.

What about the intelligent software designed to catch people like you doing that sort of thing?

MAN.

It's not a problem. Trust me. At worst I will have about nine and a half minutes before the police turn up. A minute for the Verlinski, I'll skip the rest of the diamonds, they look okay but nothing really catches the eye, say fifteen to twenty seconds for the nice emerald cluster that they have in the catalogue, and then two minutes tops on their Fabergé display. They have a nice red and gold cigarette case that eluded me in Monaco a few years ago.

CAITLIN.

Much as I enjoy the shopping channel. I'm more interested how my (softly) fiancée, proposes not getting caught?

MAN.

Eh? I didn't quite catch that last bit.

CAITLIN.

I said, how do you propose not getting caught?

MAN.

Oh, that's easy. I'll take the bike. There's no way they will catch me in traffic. I've timed it and all I need is a fifteen second gap when we hit the car park roof. They have to see me go in. They'll know they'll lose sight of me but they'll figure they would be close enough not to miss anything important. They'll turn onto the roof top parking area, see a van, they see me and the bike inside, they see me with a gun. There'll be a screech of tyres as they brake and take cover. They'll see the rear door of the van close. As for the sandbox they'll probably never give it a second thought. Then they'll settle down to a nice long siege and lots of lovely overtime.

CAITLIN.

Except you won't be there.

MAN.

As I've said, how do you make an elephant disappear from the cabinet? Simple. You make sure it never actually gets into it in the first place. It’s all a question of timing. As soon as I reach the top of the car park I hit the WIFI link triggering the computer in the van which plays my new and improved version of ‘Pepper’s Ghost,’ another old theatre trick that blew them away in the 19^th Century, my version projects a 3D version of me in the van. All smoke and mirrors really but very effective. While that’s going on the real me stashes the bike in the fake sandbox, propels down the rear wall of the car park and enters the sewer system via the strategically placed workman’s hut. By the time anyone works out what has happened I'll be out of the sewer system and long gone. Trust me, what could possibly go wrong?

Lights Down.