Walt turned and looked at the window. It was dark.
“It’s nighttime,” Oscar said. “We can’t move now. People will be in their apartments. They’ll notice if we try to heist now. During the day, neighbors might overlook a random dog or cat or—”
“Octopus,” Butterbean piped up.
“Octopus,” Oscar agreed. Then he frowned. “The point is, this time, we need to stick to our plan.”
“But Bob said…” Walt said.
“Bob.” Oscar gave a harsh laugh. “Bob isn’t going to do anything until his paperwork is done, and who knows how long that will take. We’ll stick to the plan. We’ll make our preparations tonight, as planned, wait until the Coin Man leaves, as planned, and then we move. As planned. We’ll be swimming in gold coins and long gone before Bob even remembers we’re here.”
Walt shook her head.“I don’t know, Oscar. He said shelter.” Walt had been in a shelter as a kitten. She didn’t want to go back.
“There’s always Plan B, right, Marco?” Polo piped up. “If we need it.”
“Plan B? What’s Plan B?” Walt said suspiciously.
“Yes, what’s Plan B?” Oscar said, eyeing the rats. He didn’t like the way they were always coming up with their own plans. Or the way they were always calling them Plan B. It was confusing. And besides, there was only one mastermind of this organization, and they were not it.
“What she means is, there’s always the vents,” Marco said. “We can stay there temporarily, if we need to.” He nudged Polo in the side. “Me and Polo, we know a guy.”
“That’s right!” Polo squeaked. “We know a guy!”
Walt lifted a lip in an attempt at a smile. She didn’t think the vents sounded like a better option.
Oscar sniffed. There was no way he was going to be a vent bird. He’d rather find a tree somewhere and try his luck in the park. But there was no need to tell the rats that, not when they were so close to stealing the treasure. “Yes. Well, it’s good to have a Plan B. And in the meantime, Walt, I think we have something to show you that may convince you!” Oscar nudged Walt awkwardly with his wing.
“Show her! Show her!” Polo and Marco cheered, jumping up and down.
“What? Show her what?” Butterbean barked, jumping up and down too. It was easy to get caught up in the excitement. She couldn’t bounce off the walls as well as Walt, but she was pretty good at up and down.
“Wait here.” Oscar flew into the kitchen. There were a couple of muffled thumps, followed by what sounded like some low-level grumbling. Then they heard the sound of loudly flapping wings.
“What is it? WHAT IS IT?” Butterbean shrieked, thumping her tail on the floor. This was the most exciting week ever in the history of the apartment.
Suddenly Oscar appeared, dramatically framed in the doorway. He hovered for a second, as if he was posing, with Mrs. Food’s large handbag hanging from his claws.
“Look! I’m—” Oscar squawked before suddenly dropping a few inches. He flapped his wings awkwardly and rose back up to the center of the doorway. “Bag! See?” he said quickly, maintaining his altitude this time.
“WHOOOHOO!” Marco and Polo cheered, raising their tiny fists in the air.
Oscar flew into the middle of the living room and dropped the handbag onto the coffee table with a thunk, narrowly missing the rat cheering section.
“We were practicing!” Marco said.
“He can carry the bag! “Polo added.
“Even with his bad back!” Marco said.
Oscar leaned up against the handbag.“I should be able to carry the bag out of the apartment, if it’s only for a few minutes.”
“See? The plan will work!” Polo said.
“We’ll be just like a real outlaw gang,” Marco cheered. “Ooh! We need a name! Something catchy. How about the Coin Robbers? Or Fourth-Floor Bandits?”
“Since we live in the Strathmore building, what about the Strathmore Five?” Polo suggested.
“Or Strathmore Six if we include the octopus.” Marco didn’t want to leave Chad out. He didn’t want any hard feelings in the outlaw gang.
“Done!” Polo cheered. “Six sounds better anyway.” The rats high-fived each other.
“Hmm,” Walt sniffed, then jumped over and nosed the handbag. “Hmm,” she said again, grudgingly. “That’s something, at least.”
“It’s more than something,” Oscar said huffily. “It’s everything. All we have to do is be patient, and we’ll be set. Independently wealthy. Set for life.”
“Set for life,” Butterbean echoed.
“Strathmore Six, set for life!” Polo and Marco cheered.
Walt sighed.“Okay. Set for life. Now let’s get ready.”
When Madison arrived the next morning, the tension in the apartment was so thick that Oscar was surprised she didn’t notice. But she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t seem to notice much of anything.
“Hi, guys. What’s up?” she said as she walked in, making a beeline for the dining room table. Butterbean had to do some fancy footwork to avoid getting stepped on, and Madison didn’t even blink.
She had the bunch of papers in her hands, and all of her attention seemed to be focused on them.
“We’re the Strathmore Six now,” Butterbean said. Madison automatically patted her on the head as she went by.
“I can probably just sign them, right?” she said to Marco and Polo absently as she poured food into their cage.
“Sure?” Polo said, trying to be agreeable. It sounded like a legal question, and Polo wasn’t really confident about giving legal advice.
“HEY!” Marco protested as seeds rained over his head. “Watch what you’re doing!”
Madison kept pouring the seeds as she looked at the papers.
Polo reached out and dragged Marco out of the way.“Shh, Marco,” Polo said. “She’s concentrating.”
“I think those are the papers that Bob gave her,” Butterbean said. “Her aunt is supposed to sign them. But I don’t think she has an aunt.”
“Of course she has an aunt,” Oscar said. “People have seen her. She can’t just make up an aunt.”
“Maybe,” Butterbean said. “But I don’t think she has an aunt here. I think her aunt is gone.”
“Quiet, Butterbean,” Walt said. “Her living arrangements are not our business.”
“I don’t know—it doesn’t seem right,” Polo said as Madison absentmindedly replaced the lid on their cage. It wasn’t on straight, though, and there was an inch gap over the water bottle.
“See now, we could totally get out of that,” Marco said. “It’s practically screaming escape route.”
“We can get out anyway,” Polo pointed out.
“Well, yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Marco said.
“Right?” Madison said to Butterbean, startling Marco and Polo into silence. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. She’d sign it if she was here. So it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong, right?”
“Of course not,” Butterbean woofed quietly. Butterbean didn’t have any problems dishing out legal advice.
Madison gave a half smile.“Look at me, talking to a dog.” She clipped the leash onto Butterbean’s collar. “I should just do it. It’s no big deal. Right?”
“Right,” Butterbean woofed again.
“I’m doing it.” Madison dropped the leash and dug a pen out of her book bag. She did a few test runs on the back of her notebook, spread the papers out on the table, took a deep breath, and signed.
“Ruby S. Park. There. It’s done.” She gathered up the papers and shook them at Butterbean. “And if I get into trouble, I’ll tell them you told me to do it.”
“Wait, what?” Butterbean looked alarmed.
“Don’t worry, Bean,” Walt said with a smirk. “We’ll come visit you in prison.”
“Wait, WHAT?” Butterbean yelped.
“Don’t listen to her,” Oscar said. “Just go for your walk.”
“Focus on the heist,” Walt said.
“Right. Heist.” Butterbean shot a nervous look back over her shoulder as Madison dragged her into the hallway and closed the door.