The next day, Larry spoke with Pedro Sanchez, head of the museum's maintenance department, and told him:
"There's an interesting job. Let's talk about it tonight at my friend's apartment - we'll go over everything in detail."
Pedro agreed, and that evening, the two of them got into Larry's car and headed to Chinatown.
Robert ordered spicy Vietnamese noodles, bao buns with tofu filling, and homemade kombucha.
First, the three of them ate, and then they began discussing the plan to steal the Papyrus. Pedro brought schematics of the electrical wiring and the Metropolitan Museum's alarm system.
"A complicated alarm system," Robert said aloud, just as he expected, "three levels. If I get inside, I can handle it."
"Pedro, how can we cause a pipe to burst in the bathroom?" Larry asked.
"Well, the easiest way is to throw toilet paper and napkins in the toilet - it'll clog and eventually burst."
"Great. Then you take care of that, Pedro."
"Are you kidding, Larry? I'm the head of maintenance! I can't be wandering around the museum bathrooms stuffing toilets. You should do it. There's a bathroom right next to the Egyptian Hall."
"How long will it take? One or two days?"
"No one can say for sure. Maybe 1-2 days, maybe 1-2 months."
"We don't have 1-2 months! The papyrus is here for only 15 days. We've got two weeks to get it."
So, they decided Larry would visit the bathroom after each tour and throw paper and napkins into the toilet- as much as possible. He gave about three tours a day and would also use his free time to continue the task. When the pipe in the bathroom near the Egyptian Hall burst, Pedro would cause a second rupture in the basement by drilling a hole in the main sewage pipe during one of his inspections, flooding the whole basement and triggering chaos.
The plan was set: Pedro causes a sewage leak in the basement, leading to plumbing repairs. The second-floor bathroom will be shut down. Extra plumbers are called in. Robert enters as one of them, meets Pedro in the bathroom, and hides there.
When the plan to steal the "Westcar Papyrus" was finalized, Robert asked the main question:
"How much are we getting paid?"
"They're offering one million dollars."
"Wait, you said a hundred thousand!"
"Well, for the whole job - it's a million if everything goes smoothly."
"So how much does each of us get?" Robert pressed.
"I'm in charge, so I get half - five hundred thousand. You and Pedro get two hundred and fifty each."
"What?!" Pedro and Robert said in unison.
"I don't agree!" Robert protested.
"Me neither!" Pedro backed him up.
"So, Pedro and I do the dirty work, take all the risk, and you sit clean and get half a million? And us?" Robert couldn't hold back his anger.
Larry, a big guy, brushed Robert off and grabbed him by the collar when he lunged forward. Pedro jumped in, hitting Larry from behind. All three ended up wrestling on the floor.
"Calm down, you idiots!" Larry shouted, fending them off.
When the scuffle ended, they sat down, panting.
"Fine," Larry said, dusting himself off. "We split it evenly. Three hundred thousand each."
"Wait, what about the last hundred thousand? You pocketing it?" Pedro squinted.
"No, no. That's split three ways too," Larry corrected himself, seeing the irritation in Pedro's eyes.
Pedro quickly pulled out his phone, still breathing heavily, opened the calculator, and divided the million.
"Here," he showed the screen. "$333,333.33 each." Then he added after a moment of thought,
"Robert and I aren't greedy. Larry, since you're the boss, you get $333,333.34. Deal?"
Silence fell. Each of them sat on the dirty gray carpet, lost in thought.
Finally, Robert asked, "So what are you planning to do with the money?"
Larry answered first, "I've been meaning to fix up my old shed, buy a new car, and find myself a long-legged redhead. I'll get married."
"Good idea, Larry. About time you got married. I'll go back to Honduras with my wife, kids, and parents. I'll buy a little house with a vineyard, make wine. With this kind of money, I'll be a respected man back home," Pedro said dreamily.
"And you?" Pedro asked Robert.
"I've had this dream since childhood," Robert said with a smile. "I'll go to Miami, to Disneyland, buy an ice cream truck and sell ice cream to kids."
Larry and Pedro burst out laughing. Wiping tears from his eyes, Larry said,
"You're an idiot! With all that money… selling ice cream in Disneyland? What a dumb idea!"
"Go ahead, laugh," Robert said, chuckling himself. "But you don't get it. That's real happiness -eating ice cream and strolling through Disneyland. No worries, no problems. Just hoping your parents buy you the biggest cone with toppings and sprinkles! You think I like installing alarms in rich people's homes? You should see the palaces they live in. And those kids - they get whatever they want."
"Alright, Robert, don't take it personally," Pedro said, moving closer. "I'll go to Disneyland with my kids and buy ice cream from you. Larry'll come too - with his "little redhead beauties". Good business, yeah," Pedro sighed.
"Very profitable business," Robert confirmed. "You guys just don't know. You'll see - I'll make it big. We'll all make it big."
"May Our Lady of Guadalupe help us," Pedro said, standing and raising his hands. Larry and Robert placed their hands on his.
"May Our Lady of Guadalupe bless our mission," Pedro said.
"Amen," Larry and Robert replied.
***
The next evening, at 6:30 p.m., Eric pulled up to the Metropolitan Museum in a black Lexus sedan. Larry got into the car.
Suddenly, a wave of envy swept over him. Look at these people - driving fancy cars, dressed to the nines… and me? His thoughts were interrupted by Eric.
"So, what's the plan? Tell me."
"There are three of us, including me," Larry began.
Eric didn't care. "I want the Westcar Papyrus. I don't care if the entire Metropolitan staff is in on it. Get me what I need, and you'll get your money," he snapped.
Getting cocky, huh? Acting like he's the boss now, Larry thought.
"Alright, we'll need some cash for small expenses," Larry said, shifting gears.
"Here's three thousand dollars," Eric said, pulling out some bills from his wallet and handing them over.
"Where should I drop you?"
"Take me to Chinatown. I'm heading to Bobby's."
Eric dropped him off, and the black Lexus disappeared into the dusk.