It was one of the greatest heists ever. It would go down in history. Or at least that's what Little Tony hoped. He had picked out the location, constructed the plans and hired only the best. Little Tony thought his idea, scribbled out on pieces of paper scattered around his hole in the wall apartment, to be the greatest thing he'd do in his life. As he imagined the heist in his head, it played out like a grand symphony. And if the plans had been allowed to go as he had designed them, yes, it would have put Little Tony on the map among the best of the best criminals in history. But fate challenged him with Miss Tulip Dubois.

The women in France found Little Tony to be both charming and adorable. He was second generation Italian and even though in America his Italian accent was apparent, in France it was the melding of his American jargon with Italian heritage that made him unique to the ladies. His height was what made him adorable. He could have found a wife easily if he wasn't so determined on his path to the greatest heist of the century...or at least the decade. Little Tony sought out one of the best lock picks in the world, Gaspar Dubois. Gaspar had a reputation of many things, lock picking was rarely mentioned. The only reason Little Tony, some nobody from Philly, knew about Gaspar was when he was in Boston hunting down an explosion technician. Little Tony had been in a coffee shop sketching away in his journal when he over heard two mafiosos discussing Gaspar's talent. 

The conversation between the two what seemed to be higher ranked thugs had led Little Tony to France, to a small town in the southern region. To a bookstore with a blue door and a basement full of dusty old books. As Little Tony walked down the stairs to the mildewed basement of the bookstore he could hear a woman hum a song. The stairs creaked as he took each step down, but not loud enough to disturb the girl who he interrupted as he cleared his throat from behind her. She turned and exclaimed a high pitch squeak as he had surprised her. 

"Oh mon Dieu"

The girl...the young woman who couldn't be any older than 23 exclaimed. Her hand raised to her chest.

Bonjour! And that was it, that was pretty much the only French Little Tony knew. If he had learned anymore his mother, god rest her soul, would have sprung from his grave only to kill him and take him back down with her. My sincerest apologies, Miss. No intentions to disturb or startle you.

The young woman looked at him and as she did her surprise slipped away into suspicion. Little Tony extended his hands in a way he hoped to convey that he was not a threat, but yet he noticed the woman pull a letter opener towards her. He didn't wait for her to reply to him.

I'm looking for Gaspar Dubois. I...I...was told he would be in today. 

Little Tony had hoped this would help ease her suspicions but it seemed to make it worse. He wondered how skilled the young miss was with knives, he hoped she preferred dolls to blades. He took a step back and showed her he didn't have any weapons by opening his coat. 

Okay, I was only told that I may find him here.

The young woman stared at him for a few more seconds and then turned her head to the left, calling out.

"Papa."

Little Tony leaned forward and noticed an open door to the young woman's left. A man sat in a chair, working over something. He raised pulled his attention away from whatever he had been working on and turned to the young miss. Little Tony stayed quiet. He had two options, turn and run up those unstable steps hoping he didn't crash through and be trapped with murderous young woman and potentially angry father or stay. Little Tony had a heist of the century...or at least this decade, he decided to stay. 

"Tulip?"

The man from the back office called out the young miss. 

"Papa, il y a un homme ici." The young woman replied. "Il te demande."

Damn French. Tony cursed to himself. He didn't know what they were saying. The man in the office replied.

"Tulip, dois-je apporter mon arme?"

"Non, papa, il semble ne pas etre arme." 

She replied to her father. In their short back and forth, Little Tony had assumed that the woman was speaking to her father by how many times she had addressed him as Papa and that the woman's name was Tulip or it was possibly a pet name. Either way, it didn't matter until he was able to hopefully speak English. Little Tony had lowered his eyes from the woman as he thought about his situation. As he raised them to look at her once again, Little Tony realized that the young woman was looking at him once again. She was now clutching the letter opener.

"J'ai un couteau."

She said to her father while keeping her eyes on Little Tony. Little Tony heard a chair move across the floor and saw that the man in the office was coming out of the room. He joined the daughter at her side. He had not looked at Little Tony yet, but instead had his eye on the letter opener that the woman held. He spoke to her.

"Mon cher, qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit au sujet de l'ouvrur de lettre. Ce n'est pas une arme."

She must have not liked what he had said. Little Tony watched the young miss set the letter opener back on the table away from her. She huffed and crossed her arms. The father turned his attention to Little Tony.

"Excuse my daughter, Tulip. She is very protective of her papa and seems to be in a very aggressive mood today."

The man nodded to the letter opener and then looked back at Little Tony.

"What can we do for you? Looking for a long lost classic in this dusty old store?"

At first Little Tony was confused on what the man was asking, but then remembered that he was in the basement of a bookstore. How could he forget he wondered. The musty smell of old books was not his favorite and some how he had withstood it for the past ten minutes. It was either the young woman's beauty or the lethal look on her face that had distracted him.

"Il n'est pas la pour les livres."

Tulip spat. Which only rewarded her a look from her father. Little Tony kept his attention on the man he hoped was Gaspar.

"Tulip, do you need to excuse yourself from the room? Maybe the man is looking for some ancient encyclopedias one can only find in the basement of an obscure bookshop."

Said the father. Little Tony shifted his weight from one foot to the other. If the room wasn't tense before it sure was now. Tulip huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. Little Tony dared a peak towards her, she glared at him for a second or two and then leaned against the wall as if she were relaxing and looked at her finger nails. 

No encyclopedias today. Though, if I ever have the need I'm sure I'd be able to find something fitting the part here.

Little Tony looked around the room. He had been so distracted by Tulip that he didn't realize how large it was. The staircase into the basement emptied out into the middle of the room. Tulip and father were in the open area ten feet in front of a staircase. Little Tony stood just shy from the open area he had book cases on each side of him with rows between each case. 

The two rows of book cases created a natural hallway to where the room opened up with a large wooden table. Behind the stairs were more rows of books. The room was large, but not never ending. Little Tony could see the back wall which was just more stacks of books. If the room had been cleared out it would be of great size. Little Tony wondered if it had always been a bookstore. Or if it had been something else in the past. He shrugged internally knowing he'd never know. 

I'm looking for Gaspar Dubois.