Justine Kase's Questionnaire

Prague! It is the most wonderful city in the world. Why? Castles! Rivers! Bridges! Coffee! Oh dear, all of the coffee!

Yes, there are other cities throughout Europe that have all of these amenities, but not single one of them is either a) my grandmother's city of birth or b) where I am standing right now. That's the trick, really. Learn to enjoy where you are and you will always be in the best place.

So, Prague? It has so much to offer. History. Architecture. Rich men. Handsome men. Stupid men. Men who carelessly leave shiny things lying right out in the open, behind laser grids and vault doors, where any girl wandering by my pick them up. Frankly, it's negligent of them.

Who keeps track? Money comes and goes and comes again. No one with any sense worries about money. Why, if I'm in a pinch, there's always kind stranger willing to offer assistance.

Not every stranger realizes how kind they're being, and that's a shame. I wish I could thank each and every person who's ever lent me aid. Tragically, so many flit off into the mists before I ever catch their names. Or return their wallets. Or car keys. Or whatever else they've carelessly dropped into my purse.

As for where it goes... Every girl has needs. Basic food and shelter. And fashion. And little climbing toys that get me into penthouses.

It's all about the thrill, really. Smart thieves do it to get rich. Dumb thieves do it because they're dumb or desperate. I do it because there's nothing like the rush of sneaking into where you "aren’t supposed to be" and taking what "you aren't supposed to have." God that's fun. That's the best fun.

And who in their right mind wouldn't want to be the very best at having the most fun. Do what you love for a living and you won't work a day in your life, right?

And between you and me, I think I was born for this. I've got my little shadow tricks and I think there might be something in my lineage that no one bothered to mention to little Justine.

As for killing? Sounds distasteful.

You'd think it was my first proper lift, but you'd be wrong. You see, little Justine has a secret. The first time I slid out the window to escape my parents’ nasty row was life changing. Was it shimmying down the tree outside my bedroom window? Sneaking along the damp streets by pub light? Or the myriad adults stumbling around without the slightest hint of sobriety?

No.

Nor was it the constable snatching me up for a ride home once Mum and Dad realized their little angle had scampered off.

It was the escape itself. Slipping through the window. While it was closed. Painted closed and likely not opened in the previous century.

Oh, this is a fun game!

Grammy, of course. My steal-haired hero. When mothers and fathers fail, it's the grans who rescue young girls. Grammy loves me dearly and I her. We bond over the failings of our parents. Hers named her Gorana, for the love of Christ.

Then there’s Turgile. He taught me everything a sneaky little roof-runner needs to know to. How to climb, and not die. How to fall, and not die. How to rob a boyfriend blind, and not die. Absolutely wonderful gentleman cat burglar of the old school. Doing well, even in his retirement. I'd introduce him to Grammy, but I'm afraid she would be a bad influence on him.

Let's see. Then there's Charlie is a dear. He can find a buyer for absolutely anything. Credit cards to Ming vases. Product does matter, of course, but he never complains and always turns up with a plethora of cash and an absence of questions.