Although I hadn't done any trickery in years, I knew what to do. I'd pulled off plenty of more complicated cons. But I also reminded myself that anything could go wrong-I'd been taught that since I got out of diapers. So to make sure everything went smoothly, I made use of every trick I knew. I had dressed modestly, in skinny jeans, a cream knit top, and a gold blazer. I had pulled my baseball cap down low so the visor would hide my eyes from the surveillance cameras. The cap also covered my spiky bleached hair so I'd look more normal. I was ready to pretend.

On the other side of the window, a lonesome policeman sat at his desk. I went through the basic steps of preparing him to be my mark: making him smile and complimenting him so he'd feel superior. If he felt good about himself, he'd be less likely to challenge me.

I started with a sweet, shy smile-all girl-from-back-home innocence. The officer looked up at me and raised an appraising eyebrow. I'm decent looking, especially when I smile. My small nose and mouth aren't Hollywood quality, but I get no complaints. I caught the quick scan of his eyes as he took me in. His lip curled ever so slightly, and his eyes widened. Yes-his churning brain was telling him-I want to talk to her. A good start.

I then used a helpless-girl routine to make him more pliable. "Oh. Um. I'm looking for the lost and found. . ." An easy request, considering I was already there.

The officer was happy to assist. "You found it, babe. What'ja lose?" His crooked grin assured me that he was on my side and wouldn't be asking too many questions.

Next, I added a layer of sadness to my innocent and helpless act. Something to make it real and get me into the part. This might have been an excessive level of manipulation, but I needed to finish this job smoothly and get out of here. So I dredged up some unhappy memories to make the emotion real.

I thought about a hungry little five-year-old girl. Her foster mother was off somewhere, working a con and hadn't been seen in days. The only food in the house was a partial bag of potato chips and a nearly empty box of cereal. When that was gone, the girl went outside and climbed through a few garbage bins, returning with a stale loaf of bread and a half-full jar of mayonnaise. But that didn't last, either, so her older brother broke into mother's precious chocolate bars and handed them out. The little girl was worried. "Mother will be angry," she warned him, but he insisted it was okay. So she ate the chocolate, then hid under the covers of her bed, less hungry but more afraid of what would happen when mother returned.




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