Subsequent Wickedness
…..for that’s when I saw her jewellery lying carelessly abandoned on top of her dressing table. The lovely girl had been so impatient for the pleasures yet to come, she hadn’t even bothered to kiss them good night and tuck them all up safely in bed.
The Smoke—(Cockney slang for London)— is about a cat burglar and jewel thief, called Jethro, in the austere world of 1947 post-war, black-market-riddled England.
Brought up in and around one of London's famed street markets, Jethro is as smart as he is street wise, which is just as well, as he always needs all of his wits about him to pull off the perfect job and not get caught.
Since the end of the war—having finished service in the Merchant Navy—Jethro has told everybody that he's gone straight and has taken-up as a stagehand around London's many theatres and music halls. (His skill with ropes and pulleys is as easily transferred to going up and down the outside of buildings, as it is to the needs of the theatre fly-floor.) But the truth is, hiding in plain sight in around London's West End is the perfect cover for him to be able to set up his diamond capers in the wealthy areas of Mayfair, Knightsbridge and Belgravia.
None of London's top villains—the true life, Jack Spot and Billy Hill—believe that Jethro has gone straight, and neither does Darby Messima, Soho's fearsome crime-lord. And at some time or another everyone wants him to do just one more little job for them.
And when, after he's burgled the embassy of a certain, un-named Iron Curtain power, and stolen jewels belonging to the ambassador's wife and daughter, Jethro comes to the attention of His Majesty's Secret Service, even they ask him to burgle the place again to retrieve a code book for them. And the trouble is, if he doesn't agree, then things threaten to go very badly indeed, for him, his family and his friends.
But it's all really a set up for a thief to cat ch a thief, that leads to a deadly game of cat and mouse to see who will get to Jethro first: London's gangsters, MI5, or one of the Soviet's most formidable secret agents.
In The Smoke, author Tony Broadbent captures the heartbeat of London and offers up a thrilling first mystery that marks him as a writer to watch; with two sequels ready to be released.
Taken From the Book
Every room has its own special interpretation of darkness, and the daughters bedroom was no exception, but even in those first moments as me eyes readjusted , I sensed it was as unique a place of entrapment as anything I had ever seen. It was like something out of a Hollywood film; a palace of silks and satins and lace that enveloped you like a perfume with its promise of delights yet to be revealed.
But I had a decision to make, and I had to make it quickly. I could stiffen my resolve and wait for the two of them to ride themselves on into contented sleep. Or I could grasp the moment and go about my business while they were still happily going about theirs. The door into his bedroom wasn’t completely closed, so I knew that whatever I did then I had o be very careful about how I moved. In the end, temptation beckoned her little diamond-encrusted finger at me, and as if in a trance of my own, I moved deeper into the room and became one with the rhythmic sounds of the lovemaking, which had me caught somewhere between a waltz and a tango.
Salome had nothing on this one. Her clothes trailed enticelingly across the floor; her satin evening gown and gloves, silk stockings and black underwear all lying in seductive, overlapping curves like the discarded skins of some exotic creature of the night. There was enough lace there to keep the London Palladium’s entire chorus line happy and vry, very grateful for the show’s entire run. It’s all right for some, I thought. It was too, for that’s when I saw her jewellery lying carelessly abandoned on top of her dressing table. The lovely girl had been so impatient for the pleasures yet to come , she hadn’t even bothered to kiss them good night and tuck them all up safely in bed.
They curled round my turtles like a lover’s embrace, a beautifully matched set of diamond earrings, necklace, and bracelet, and this time all of it most definitely by Boucheron of Paris. They were classic brilliants, simple and elegant, and even though they flashed a haughty disdain at my unabashed lust for them, they slithered and slid obediently into the empty pockets of my chamois leather bag like so many silk stockings released from their overly stretched suspenders. I smiled, a satisfied smile, and continued on in time with the sound of the movements from the bedroom …………
Props courtesy of Chatwick University Theatre
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DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
***************************
…..for that’s when I saw her jewellery lying carelessly abandoned on top of her dressing table. The lovely girl had been so impatient for the pleasures yet to come, she hadn’t even bothered to kiss them good night and tuck them all up safely in bed.
The Smoke—(Cockney slang for London)— is about a cat burglar and jewel thief, called Jethro, in the austere world of 1947 post-war, black-market-riddled England.
Brought up in and around one of London's famed street markets, Jethro is as smart as he is street wise, which is just as well, as he always needs all of his wits about him to pull off the perfect job and not get caught.
Since the end of the war—having finished service in the Merchant Navy—Jethro has told everybody that he's gone straight and has taken-up as a stagehand around London's many theatres and music halls. (His skill with ropes and pulleys is as easily transferred to going up and down the outside of buildings, as it is to the needs of the theatre fly-floor.) But the truth is, hiding in plain sight in around London's West End is the perfect cover for him to be able to set up his diamond capers in the wealthy areas of Mayfair, Knightsbridge and Belgravia.
None of London's top villains—the true life, Jack Spot and Billy Hill—believe that Jethro has gone straight, and neither does Darby Messima, Soho's fearsome crime-lord. And at some time or another everyone wants him to do just one more little job for them.
And when, after he's burgled the embassy of a certain, un-named Iron Curtain power, and stolen jewels belonging to the ambassador's wife and daughter, Jethro comes to the attention of His Majesty's Secret Service, even they ask him to burgle the place again to retrieve a code book for them. And the trouble is, if he doesn't agree, then things threaten to go very badly indeed, for him, his family and his friends.
But it's all really a set up for a thief to cat ch a thief, that leads to a deadly game of cat and mouse to see who will get to Jethro first: London's gangsters, MI5, or one of the Soviet's most formidable secret agents.
In The Smoke, author Tony Broadbent captures the heartbeat of London and offers up a thrilling first mystery that marks him as a writer to watch; with two sequels ready to be released.
Taken From the Book
Every room has its own special interpretation of darkness, and the daughters bedroom was no exception, but even in those first moments as me eyes readjusted , I sensed it was as unique a place of entrapment as anything I had ever seen. It was like something out of a Hollywood film; a palace of silks and satins and lace that enveloped you like a perfume with its promise of delights yet to be revealed.
But I had a decision to make, and I had to make it quickly. I could stiffen my resolve and wait for the two of them to ride themselves on into contented sleep. Or I could grasp the moment and go about my business while they were still happily going about theirs. The door into his bedroom wasn’t completely closed, so I knew that whatever I did then I had o be very careful about how I moved. In the end, temptation beckoned her little diamond-encrusted finger at me, and as if in a trance of my own, I moved deeper into the room and became one with the rhythmic sounds of the lovemaking, which had me caught somewhere between a waltz and a tango.
Salome had nothing on this one. Her clothes trailed enticelingly across the floor; her satin evening gown and gloves, silk stockings and black underwear all lying in seductive, overlapping curves like the discarded skins of some exotic creature of the night. There was enough lace there to keep the London Palladium’s entire chorus line happy and vry, very grateful for the show’s entire run. It’s all right for some, I thought. It was too, for that’s when I saw her jewellery lying carelessly abandoned on top of her dressing table. The lovely girl had been so impatient for the pleasures yet to come , she hadn’t even bothered to kiss them good night and tuck them all up safely in bed.
They curled round my turtles like a lover’s embrace, a beautifully matched set of diamond earrings, necklace, and bracelet, and this time all of it most definitely by Boucheron of Paris. They were classic brilliants, simple and elegant, and even though they flashed a haughty disdain at my unabashed lust for them, they slithered and slid obediently into the empty pockets of my chamois leather bag like so many silk stockings released from their overly stretched suspenders. I smiled, a satisfied smile, and continued on in time with the sound of the movements from the bedroom …………
Props courtesy of Chatwick University Theatre
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
***************************