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She was like the moon—part of her was always hidden away.

Notes

What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany’s at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier, it’s priceless. As I’m taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It’s her father’s business; she’s Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come, and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada – I don’t trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard: I have a son, and he’s the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadéro. She’s been waiting for me all these years, she’s never taken another lover. I don’t care. I don’t show up. I go to Berlin. That’s where I stashed the chandelier.