Page 101 of Sticky Fingers

Not this time.

Hidden by the smoke, I dash across the gallery unseen.

I know that the fire detector in the gallery has been wired not to react to smoke immediately, since the sprinklers might damage the paintings. But that’s not a problem—even though the smoke grenades haven’t set off the fire detector, they provide the perfect cover for what I have to do next.

See, on the wall opposite the one where I was standing, there’s a red panel labeled Fire Alarm - Use Only in Case of Emergency.

Without thinking twice about it, I open the panel and pull the red lever.

A split second later, the loud blare of an alarm fills the whole room, and I hear as the sprinklers on the ceiling come alive.

“The paintings!”

“Is there a fire?”

“OH GOD!”

“Run!”

Everyone’s panicking now, the anxiety in the room almost palpable.

When the first drop of water hits my face, I can’t help but smile.

It’s time the Picasso returns home.