Museum of Archaeology
June 6th, 1993
The man in the red suit was wearing a mask. He went inside the museum. The guards had left the Amulet of Ramses III virtually unguarded. All had gone according to plan.
Step 1: Perform a robbery in the west wing to get their attention
Step 2: While everyone is investigating the west wing, rob the east wing.
Step 3: Make the guards believe you are attempting to take more things from the front of the museum
Step 4: The guards should protect the front area instead other areas. Take the Amulet of Ramses III and sell it for 10 billion dollars.
He giggled. He used his glasscutter to get inside. He avoided security cameras and found his way to the Egyptian Wonders exhibit. He carefully placed his hands on the glass cube around it.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said a voice.
He spun around and saw a man in a tan overcoat and a brown pinstriped suit.
“Stephen Smith. I thought Robert Jones killed you,” said the man.
“Vice versa,” grinned Smith. “I’ve notified the police and guards of your plan.”
They both heard footsteps getting closer.
The man in the red suit raised his hands. “Alright, you got me…”
He pressed his thumb against his palm and a red light blinked.
“What’s that?” asked Smith, worried.
“Oh nothing. Just a radio transmitter the size of a penny we bribed some scientists to developing.”
A metal lockdown door now covered every entrance and exit, including the windows.
“Some Mafia agents hacked into the main control room. Any second now…”
All the lights in the museum turned off. The intercom system had been hacked as well.
A recording of the man in the red suit laughing madly played over it. A single light near Smith turned on. The man in the red suit was holding the amulet. He removed his mask. Smith fought the urge to scream.
He had painted his lips and most of his jaw lime green. He had red paint that looked like dried blood under his eyes. He was wearing too much black eyeliner, but it was terrifying. His hair was shoulder length, and was painted ocean blue. The rest of his face was blinding white.
“Terrifying, isn’t it? I got the idea when an insane circus clown killed my family in front of me when I was five years old. I think something broke in my brain…I tracked him down and killed him just a year ago. In the middle of a performance! Imagine the shock!”
He giggled madly.
Smith smacked the amulet out of his hand. He kicked the man in the stomach and pulled the radio transmitter out of his hand. He tuned it to Emergency Services.
“Hello? SWAT? This is Private Investigator Stephen Smith! I’m in the San Francisco Museum of Archaeology! There are Mafia agents in the main control room. They’ve trapped me inside and have switched off all but one of the lights!”