Once again, I had gotten away with a perfect heist. But there was no adrenaline rush. No excitement, no joy, no enthusiasm for this craft anymore. I tossed the jewel about, not a care that it was considered the "most expensive" one. I had heard that title too many times by this point, for all types of jewels.

With a exasperated sigh, I stuffed it into the jewel sack and then stuffed that into my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder as I stated down at the unsuspecting officers. Not once had they ever figured out how I was gaining access to the ever increasingly secured items. Not once were they just in time to catch me in the act. Not once had I left any trace behind. Not once had this proved to be a challenge for me. "I think I'm done. What used to be fun and exhilarating, just isn't anymore. This is too easy," I muttered as I dashed across the roofs, making my way out of this part of the city.

The disappearance of the crown jewel of some nation or other - I didn't bother to remember, they all start to look the same after a while - wasn't discovered until around midday the next day, only after the museum curator had decided to take a random stroll through that particular section. Of course, it was a big deal. But I didn't care. I already had my next target, as well as a plan on how I would be retiring - unlike the movies, where they like go out with a bang by stealing some grandiose thing, I didn't want to do that. I was going simple. A simple painting heist, but this time I'd leave a clue. But not to find me, a clue on how to start looking for the other stolen items I'd..."borrowed" over the years. Some I had sold off, but I still had a good collection of others. Of course, I'd include clues on how to find me eventually, but that would ultimately depend on the detective I planned on letting catch me, see how good he was, even if he was just a rookie.

After a few months of planning, setting things in position, and making sure everything was in order, I sent detective rookie (I didn't bother to find out his name when I chose him) the letter detailing my plans to nab the painting. He didn't disappoint me, thankfully. A perimeter around the building, a constant rolling patrol inside, and circling patrols on the roof and adjacent ones at regular intervals. I was impressed. Still wasn't enough, though. I managed to get the painting and slip out unnoticed. What happened next, now that was interesting.

In less that four hours, they had discovered that it was gone. And I like to assume that it didn't the rookie long to find my clue. He was a smart one, because he found all my clues, found most of the items I had kept, and found me within a month. Faster than I anticipated. I thought it would take him a few months, at least. He's gonna go far. And that brings me here, today, in this maximum security prison.

"Why tell me all this?" My cell mate asked, as he stood there, staring at me.

"No reason," I responded, "I just thought it was a fun story to tell."

"What will you do now?" He asked, leaning against his bunk and crossing his arms.

I simply glanced at him and gave him a wry smile, winking, before I lowered my head so the visor of my officers cap blocked my face, turning on my heel and heading for the cell block exit. "What will I do?" I repeated his question in my mind, "I think I'll go get my stuff back. Maybe see if I can make it harder for detective rookie to find me this time."

Many would have been thrilled by the life Carl Siggs has lived even if his name was not mentioned in history books. His name will never have the ring to it like Capones or Clydes, Ghandis or Nietzsches or how the real famous people are called nowadays.
He was now an old man in his late sixties. Sitting around on this bench he used to sit on like every day, leisurely taking in the days as they come, enjoying his pension from the store he had run.
From the outside Carl was just the ordinary old guy that made it. Not to wealthy and not to poor. Someone who could enjoy his late life with dignity.
And so he sat there on the bench in front of small river in the of his house as Maria Reas, his young and rather attractive maid came rushing to him. If he would have been a few years younger, he would have tried to play with her.
As the brunette women tried to catch her breath Carl managed to look up to her and saw her confused look.

“Mister Sigg, the police is at the front door. They said they would like to talk to you. It sounded urgent”, she managed to exclaim
.Carls head turned back towards the pond where some ducks swam over it but did not say a word. The silence was deafening.
“Sir, what shall I tell them?”, she asked with a hint of confusion in her voice.
“Ah Maria my dear, I expected them. Please would you be so kind and lead them here?”, the already balding men answered her.

The old men did not take his eyes off the pond, he kept looking at the ducks, three ducks to be specific, as he heard Maria quickly move back into the house to lead the police to him.

He expected them, that much was true. The timing when they finally turned up on his doorstep was rather unexpected.
He closed his eyes and the world around him vanished. A new, or rather past world, began to move in his mind. Carl Sigg was what many would call a selfmade men. Grown up in an orphanage run by the church he had no one to rely on. His fellow companions were not the brightest candles on the cake as he used to joke. They had no fantasy, no vision like he did. He learned this fact quickly. They were normal.
Carl Sigg was everything but normal.
His nimble frame and his highly skilled hands, his fast mind and quick judgment were all extraordinary.
And his hang towards the morally gray was already visible at a young age.
His first act was when he stole the wine meant for the holy mass. It was so easy to get away with it. Humans, specifically people of faith, are easily fooled. The need just a little push into the right direction.
His normally stoic face let a small smile slip past his usual neutral demeanor.Felix Hammar was the name of the poor kid that he framed. Carl let his plan play out in front of his mind again. It had been a rainy day when he decided to steal the wine and Felix and his friends decided to play soccer on a field behind the church.
The priest was, what he liked to call “out of town to find god”.
In reality he used to go to Misses Escondars house when her husband was not at home and found god, devil and the sin in the bedroom, or wherever they ended up to do the deed.
For Carl it was the perfect time. He took the boots of Felix and pressed them into the mud in front of the priests resting room, making sure to leave a nice and cleanly visible imprint.He then broke open the door, hurried inside and just stole the wine.
Most of it he sold to gain funds for his later life, but one bottle he used to further frame Felix. He spilled some white wine onto the fresh sheets in Felix small cupboard and hid the now emptied bottle between them.
As soon as the priest returned, he began to search around, finding the bottle and demanding answers.
Felix, obviously denied to have done it, even his friends claimed that he was with them the whole time. And the priest was leaning towards believing him. That was until he saw the boots.The was the last time Carl had seen Felix.And it was the first time he put his talents to use.
Since then it had been many years and many rather sinful things he had done. And he was called many, many names.
The Magician, which was one of his favorites. Mainly because it favors his talents which seemed like magic to some, when in reality it was just skillful and clever use of the enviroment and people around him. Clever misdirections and fakes, but thes did their duty.
Icecube, this was a name he was not fond off. He gained it when he assassinated a rather influential politician. He remembers a young pregnant wife who lost her husband tasked him with this murder. The men was to die like her husband did, frozen over with no means of escape. So Carl arranged it.
The God of diamonds, was a great one in his opinion. When he was around twenty years old and bored he decided to collect diamonds, not to sell them or something fancy. Just to know if he could. And he could. The five most valuablle diamonds known to mankind were stolen and burried. Just beneath the very bench he was sitting on right now.

It was then when a the deep voice typical of a chainsmoker and one too many drinks ripped him out of his memories.
“Mister Sigg, thank you for taking your time. I hope you are well. Hope we can make this quick. Its just a few questions if you would not mind?”, the men spoke.
Next to Carl stood a plum officer in his thirties, a trench-coat one would have expected back in the eighties. He seemed disinterested in this ordeal, not expecting much out of it.
Another end tied up with no catch like they always did end up with when they tried to catch Carl, even when this was the first time in all those years they managed to find even the slightest hint or clue towards the identity of the true criminal.
The mastermind behind murders and thievery.
The officer of the police began to wonder if the old men on the bench heard him as there was no visible clue he did so. If he could have seen inside of Carl he would have known of the anger and frustration he managed to hold in.
All these years he did not want to be caught. They searched all over the country, all over the world. Made taskforce after taskforce and never ever did they come close to even find him.
He was just to good.
And in the end, Carl had enough of this incompetence. He decided to do one last series of crimes. One that would be remembered for all of eternity.

And these dumb bastards were not able to add one and one together.

He tied up his crimes, replicated them again.
Stole money from the biggest Banks, like when they called him magician. And left behind some small clue.
He murdered some corrupt officials by freezing them. And left behind the same clue.
He stole diamonds again. And left behind the same clue again.
And again.
And again.

Just as the officer wanted to call out again, Carl moved and gestured to the officer to sit down next to him.
“Sit down, whats your name?”, he said while swallowing his anger down.
“Officer McCarty, Sir. It will be real quick-” the policemen began.
“I did it”
McCartys face showed a look of confusion as he sat next to Carl.
“Sir, you don’t know what it is I want to ask you questions about. It is no small matter, so please for the both of us, do not joke around and let me do my work.”, McCarty said in an annoyed tone.
“The magician, Icecube, The hunter, King of diamonds, The invisible men.”, Carl said in a nonchalant way.

“How did you know I wanted to talk to you about these cases?”, the officer asked visibly confused.
“Well, how else than if I had lead you here? How else than if I would let you catch me?”
“Just one quesiton then. Why?”
“Why? Because I wanted recognition as the greatest thief who ever lived. And making you realize that even now, knowing that i did all off that, you can't do anything about it.”

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