The city’s scintillating towers and reflective edifices became somber and dark in the downpour. Black umbrellas clogged the sidewalks, obscuring the faces of those beneath them. From behind tempered and tinted glass, Simon watched the rivers of people attempt to escape the worsening storm.
“A rainstorm, that’s all,” Simon’s uncle, Adam, said from behind him. The older man moved about the office, expensive shoes clicking softly against the hardwood floors. They were alone in the building at closing time, everyone else had been sent home.
Simon leaned forward until he could feel the cold radiate off the glass. “I hope so.”
Seventy stories below them cars struggled their way through the traffic, the dirty water rising around their wheels. Simon couldn’t hear the cacophony of the streets or the rain, but he knew it was there echoing between the buildings. He’d never seen it rain this long before.
Adam snapped his briefcase closed. “If there is anything to handle, the others have already handled it. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Neither spoke as Simon followed his uncle out of the oak paneled office, into the immaculate hallway, and past the empty secretary’s desk. Adam stepped into the elevator. When he turned around his nephew was still outside in the hallway
Simon jerked his chin down the opposite way. “I’ll take the stairs.”
Adam’s mouth thinned to a line as he met Simon’s eyes, his hand still holding the elevator doors open. “Come home, a watched pot never boils.”
“Good.” Simon left his uncle standing in the elevator and went in search of roof access.
Not a thief this week, but perhaps an inspiration for them.