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“You did excellent work, yes,” Oscar said, shifting his wings. He didn’t like how suspicious Polo was looking. He definitely should’ve explained heisting earlier. “But this is just the beginning. We need more information to plan the heist. And then we’ll need everyone to pitch in on heist day.”

Walt rolled her eyes. The last thing they needed was a rat mutiny. And Walt didn’t think that anyone in the history of heists had ever called it “heist day.”

She nudged Oscar to the side.“What Oscar’s trying to say is that we can’t get the information without you. How many coins there are, where they’re hidden—that kind of thing. You follow?”

“Sure,” Polo said uncertainly. She absolutely did not follow.

“Follow where?” Marco asked.

Walt sighed.“We need a couple of inside men. Rats. A couple of inside rats.”

“Well, yeah, we’re inside rats,” Marco said. He hadn’t met any outside rats. He’d heard about them, though.

“They want you to go in, I think,” Butterbean explained. “Inside that creepy guy’s apartment. Right, Walt?”

“Right.” Walt twitched her tail impatiently.

Polo’s nose turned bright pink. “You want us to do WHAT? Are you kidding me? You didn’t SEE that guy!”

“I know, he’s creepy. We don’t want you around that guy,” Walt said, holding up her paws defensively. She hadn’t realized rats could get so jumpy. “Just scope out the apartment, okay? That’s all we want you to do. Just take a look around.”

“We can do that,” Marco said. “Right, Polo?”

“That guy eats rats like me for LUNCH!” Polo gasped.

“He won’t even know you’re there!” Walt promised.

“We’ll make sure he’s gone. Just a quick look. That’s all we’re asking,” Oscar said. “I’d do it myself, but you’re the only ones who can fit under the door.”

Polo stared at the carpet. That was true. Oscar would never be able to fit under a door. Rats were made for that kind of thing. It was practically the reason they’d been invented.

“We can do this, Polo,” Marco said, patting her on the shoulder. “You didn’t see yourself on TV. You were amazing! Once you hid under that plant, nobody even knew you were there!”

“Really?” Polo looked up. “You watched me on TV?”

Marco blushed.“Yeah, you looked really good, too. Plus with that button, you looked all glamorous, like a star! Next time we’ll tape it.” He shot Oscar a look. “We didn’t have it set up right this time.”

“Well. If he won’t be there…” Polo looked at Oscar. “What do we have to do?”

“We’ll watch on the surveillance cameras until the man leaves the building. That’ll be your cue,” Oscar said.

Walt nodded.“I’ve got the door set up so we can come and go. I’ll carry you up on my back. Then just sneak inside, find the coins, and get out of there. If he comes back before you’re done, forget the coins and skedaddle. Then report back.”

Marco bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet.“Got it. Go, scope, skedaddle!”

“Got it.” Polo let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “We don’t go until he’s gone.” She turned to Marco. “You didn’t see him. He was scary.”

Marco nodded as he bobbed.“We’ll be careful. We’ll be totally invisible, like ghosts, or superspies.” He turned to Oscar. “I like this plan. It’ll give me a chance to get some more legwork done.” He jogged off, doing a lap around the sofa, punching the air as he went.

Oscar looked at Walt, eyebrows raised.“Legwork?”

“Don’t tell him,” Walt said under her breath.

It took three hours for the man in the penthouse apartment to leave the building.

Since only Butterbean and Polo had actually seen the guy, they were the ones on surveillance duty. And they figured out one problem pretty quickly—blue eyes don’t show up on fuzzy black-and-white surveillance footage.

“Is that him?” Polo whispered early on. A light-haired man was leaving the elevator in the lobby.

Butterbean leaned forward, nose hovering in front of the screen.“I don’t think so. I think that’s Stinky Sweat Socks on three.”

“Are you sure?” Polo said, watching the man disappear off the edge of the screen.

“Maybe?”

Polo shrugged.“Okay.” Maybe would have to be good enough. Better to keep waiting than get it wrong.

After three more false IDs (Guy Who Smokes Cigars, Guy Who Yells at the Doorman, and Mechanic Guy) the Coin Man appeared. And once they’d seen him, there was no question. Even the way he moved across the screen sent chills down Polo’s back.

“Okay, you’re right—he’s creepy,” Marco said as they watched the blurry footage of the guy leaving the building. “Look, even the doorman guy doesn’t like him.”

“Wow, you’re right,” Butterbean said, pressing her nose against the Television again, leaving a smeary streak behind. “Mr. Doorman talks to EVERYONE, and he didn’t say a word to that guy. He just held the door and stepped back.”

“Bad news,” Polo said, shivering.

“Right,” Walt said, standing up. Getting creeped out wasn’t going to do them any good. And Walt was starting to think it was contagious. “Let’s get going. Now, you know the signal if he comes back?”

“Howl into the elevator shaft and hope you hear it,” Butterbean said solemnly.

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