Henry Jacobs stood at the heavy timber door at the rear of his jewellery store. He placed his left palm on the glass plate of a biometric hand scanner attached to the wall and stared into the retinal scanner above it. It took only a couple of seconds for the computerised system to scan his eye and palm before granting him entry. The door’s lock released with a hollow click. He followed the same routine he used every day to open his shop, the same routine he’d used in the last three years. The one difference today was – he was six hours too early for opening to the public. His watch read 3:08am.

Henry pushed the door open and stepped inside. He crossed to his office and unlocked it with a normal key. Without closing the door, he walked to the control panel beside his desk and punched in a code of numbers on the keypad. He flicked some switches on the wall, proceeding to immobilise all security guarding his exclusive merchandise: cameras, alarms systems, locks on doors and display cabinets as well as the alarm signal to the police. His face showed no expression, no emotion or anxiety to the unusual deed he carried out. Satisfied the system was shut down, he walked into the front of the shop. Long glass display cabinets boasting their expensive exhibits took up most of the floor. Their interior lights illuminating the array of jewellery spilled out to brighten the room. Nestled in the middle of the large cabinets was a short counter. Henry stopped in front of it. Arms by his side, he stared ahead through the glass entry doors to the dully lit street beyond.

Four black cladded figures climbed out of a van parked across the road and walked towards the store, in particular, to the unlocked entry doors. Henry seemed unconcerned. His stare remained focused on the near empty street. The glass doors slid open with a quiet hum, giving admission to the visitors. All wore balaclavas. Three carried canvas bags in their gloved hands. They began emptying the cabinets, stripping them of the expensive rings, necklaces, chains and watches. No one spoke. Henry made no reaction to the happenings taking place in front of him. 

The fourth person, the shortest of the group, strolled to him. “Show me the safe, Henry.” The voice was friendly. Henry turned and guided the intruder to a room beside the office. It was quite small, harbouring a metre high safe fixed to the floor. One of the three black cladded men followed them inside, ambling in on a long stride.

“Open it,” the shorter visitor said to the shop owner. Henry didn’t argue or object. He leant forward and unlocked the dial combination. Pushing down on the latch, he swung the thick door open, revealing trays of diamond necklaces inside. 

“Nice, Henry. Very nice.”

The taller guy stepped forward and emptied the trays into his bag. Once he was finished, the boss looked at the submissive owner. 

“It’s been great doing business with you, Henry. Wait here, my man will fix you up.”

Henry didn’t respond. He simply stared ahead, uninterested. As the boss strode out, the tall man placed his sack on the floor and dug in under his coat on straightening. Stepping in close behind Henry, in a fast, sudden move, he grabbed the storekeeper around the chest with one arm and swung the other in front of him in a powerful swipe. The eight-inch knife slashed across his throat as if it were paper. Henry gasped a sickly gurgle. His eyes bulged. His mouth opened in a silent scream. Blood flooded out from his severed throat. The tall man released him. Henry crumbled to the floor, the life draining from his butchered body with each gasp. Other than a couple of quick jerks, he settled as the final breath left his lips. 

 

His murderer dug into his pocket and placed a coin sized bronze token on his forehead. Etched on it were the words, THE BANCA. Wiping the blood clean from the knife on his victim’s shirt, the guy looked around in a final check. Satisfied, he picked up his sack and walked out.