The Rosetta Ruby Job
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File #14B – The Rosetta Ruby Job
Recovered from The Apartment Cat Archives. Declassified against Tony’s advice.
The museum swore their security was airtight.
Infrared sensors, motion detectors, guards who drank their coffee black and their morals grey.
And yet… by dawn, the display case was empty.
No glass shattered. No alarms tripped. Just a single paw print in the dust and a faint trail of nappa leather perfume.
The Rosetta Ruby — gone.
They called it the most elegant heist in feline history.
We call it Tuesday.
Rumour says a shadow slipped through the ventilation system. Others whisper about a white cat in a fur coat who smiled at the cameras before cutting the feed. The footage, of course, was “accidentally erased.”
By the time the humans noticed, the Ruby had already crossed state lines, tucked into a velvet pouch under diplomatic immunity. The case went cold. The guards were reassigned to dog duty.
Weeks later, whispers surfaced in the underground — that the Ruby had resurfaced… not in a vault, but on a collar.
A handcrafted piece of South African leather.
Lined in nappa. Dressed in a removable bowtie. Bell optional. Authority non-negotiable.
They say the craftsman worked in silence, gloved, under orders from a client who never showed his face. The shipment was delivered at midnight. Payment in sardines.
Now the Rosetta Ruby rests where it belongs — around His High-ness’s neck.
Some call it fashion. Others call it evidence.
Either way, it glows like guilt under moonlight.
Tony’s Note:
The museum’s still asking questions. If anyone mentions “theft,” you mention “artistic relocation.” Then walk away slowly.