Chapter Text
Well, here it is. My final entry. It’s been quite a ride putting my memoirs together. It hasn’t exactly been a linear process. I wrote the first few chapters while chasing down the Fiendish Five. I was holding out hope, if I managed to reclaim the Thieveus Raccoonus, to add my adventures like my ancestors before me. If you’re reading this, mission accomplished.
My chapters on the Klaww Gang jobs aren’t quite as polished. It’s hard to keep good notes in solitary confinement. I got caught up in Canada, just in time for my journals to float away with the team van. I gave up after that. When the van miraculously reappeared in China, I took it as a sign to start writing again.
I needed help recounting what happened on the Kaine Island job. Amnesia will do that to you. Fortunately, the gang was able to fill in the gaps. Carmelita too, once I got back on her good side. Those entries were written last, after our adventure in time. You probably noticed that the time travel stuff was more detailed.
Between memory loss and the disappearing text from the Thieveus Raccoonus, I realized just how precious memories are. I recovered most of my identity living with Carmelita, but there were still gaps I didn’t notice until I read my own journals. I took meticulous notes with my ancestors. How else could I convince people that it happened? How else could I convince myself?
Our adventures in the past feel almost like a dream. My extended stay in Egypt less so. It gave me plenty of time to write. Slytunkhamen wanted to hear my stories. It inspired me to write more down. It was good that he couldn’t read my Clockwerk stories. Then again, my handwriting is hard to read no matter what language you speak.
Egypt would feel like a dream, if not for how much I aged there. My white whiskers followed me back to Paris. Bentley needed to make me new fake ID. I don’t exactly pass for 25 anymore, but it’s not so bad being in my thirties. I just wish I had spent my late twenties enjoying myself. Looking at my new passport photo, I saw my dad looking back at me. I hope I’ve made him proud.
I feel like I’ve digressed. What was I talking about? Right. My last adventure before retirement.
(A note to my editor: the stream of consciousness stays. It’s my voice as an author.)
Retirement. That’s a joke. Something always pulls me back in. Let’s not call it retirement. Call it an indefinite hiatus. For legal reasons, I have officially ceased all criminal activity. For here on out, everything I write is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is coincidental and unintentional.
But hold on to your hat, because this purely fictitious story is something else. Not quite the soaring heights of time travel, but few things are. It’s also much easier to believe. Or it would be, if it was true. Wink. Without further ado, my final of host of heists.
When I returned from the past, the culture shock was intense. You would think I’d be ecstatic to be home. I’d gotten used to Egyptian living. It was hard to go back at first. I’d forgotten how to use technology we all take for granted. Things like working an air fryer might as well have been witchcraft.
Once I was reacclimated, I fell into a serious depression. Seeing Slytunkhamen’s dead body and the origin of Clockwerk were too much. No therapist on the planet could begin to tackle that. To make matters worse, Carmelita – which, by now, you know isn’t her real name – broke up with me.
I knew it was coming. I lived those four years in Egypt with a knot in my stomach. After all that time, the breakup was a relief. We belonged to two different worlds. Neither of us could give ours up for the other. We genuinely loved each other, but love wasn’t enough. Carmelita said, “You need to find someone to share this crazy life with you.” That person wasn’t her.
Enough with the waterworks. When Bentley and Murray saw that I was fusing with our couch, they conspired to get me back in the game. It took some tempting, but they convinced me to try stealing the Mona Lisa again. Since our departure, the Louvre stepped up security. To us, that was an invitation. Carmelita got involved, unfortunately. You can find the details in I Will Always Louvre You.
Seeing her again wasn’t the worst part. Carmelita didn’t even notice us. She was chasing someone else. While we sneaked through the museum undetected, some other thief dashed in, grabbed the Mona Lisa, and triggered every alarm on the way out. Another name for this job I considered was Now Museum, Now You Don’t.
The thief’s name was Felix Winchester, a cheetah from Great Britain. We knew of each other. I can’t say I was a fan. He was so infamously fast that sidestepping security was a waste of his time. He’d charge in, grab what he wanted, and dash out. No cop could ever catch him. No thief stood a chance if Felix had his eyes on the same score.
Seeing him run away with the painting, smug and spry as ever, ignited something in me. Bentley took notice. It wasn’t a new job I needed. It was a new nemesis. Bentley secretly orchestrated a heist at the Capitoline Museum in Rome, knowing Felix would be there. See Rome Is Where the Art Is for details. I couldn’t be mad. I was back in the game.
From then on, we kept running into Felix. Bentley swore it was a coincidence. He kept beating us to the loot, disappearing into the night with an obnoxious grin. More than once, I watched Carmelita chase him with her shock pistol lighting up the dark alley. That really set me off. It was one thing to take my loot. But taking my favorite cop… That was a step too far.
I didn’t have much time to rage though. One night, despite Bentley’s security, someone made off with the Thieveus Raccoonus. Bentley dove headfirst into ThiefNet for any clues. The answer came in the form of a video, from a mysterious shadowed figure with a garbled voice. Below is a transcript of his own words.
“Greetings, denizens of ThiefNet. I have a job for you. I’m an art collector, with a taste for the rare and unique. I’m in search of the world’s best thieves to procure some works for me, tasks that are beyond my own skills. I don’t have money to offer you, but I have something else.”
Then, on camera, he produced the Thieveus Raccoonus. I was horrified.
“This book of thieving tips belongs to the legendary Cooper family. It’s one of a kind, full of ancient wisdom from the best in the business. I’m tempted to keep it, but there’s other things I want more. If you’re interested in the book, please reach out. Especially you, Mr. Cooper.”