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️♂️Detectives secure your scene in style with the [Krescendo] Evidence Bag. 🔎Whether you're collecting clues or crafting the perfect investigative scene, this Evidence Bag keeps your case, and your style airtight.✨
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🚕Taxi: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/MadPea%20Adventures/128/10...
A composite image depicting units of American armor of the HHQ Co. of the 749th Tank Battalion entering the French village of La Haye-du-Puits, July 14, 1944.
Credits:
> My sincere gratitude to Conseil Régional de Basse-Normandie / National Archives USA for allowing me contingent use of their archival background picture (original photograph, minus the lead tank). Use limited to non-commercial purpose. Original background picture viewed here: flic.kr/p/25cj5Hy
> Many thanks to Megashorts for allowing me unrestricted use of his fine picture of the lead Sherman tank, viewed here: flic.kr/p/cp6JrN
Synopsis of the battle to capture and occupy the village of La Haye-du-Puits,
On July 8th in the afternoon, the Americans renewed the attack on a terrain that is covered by many German mines. Engineers must clear the gates, while the infantry, supported by the tanks of the 749th Tank Battalion, are caught by enemy artillery fire. Despite a slow and difficult progression, the 79th Infantry Division reached the first settlements north-west of La Haye-du-Puits in the early evening. Many officers are killed and the units are commanded by non-commissioned officers taking excellent initiatives. All day of July 9 is necessary to seize the entire city which is largely destroyed by the bombings of the past weeks.
Hope you enjoy ...............
(Photo #1 of a series honoring my father's photography.)
Hanging out at the pier with friends, hoping for a nice dinner.
1993, Setana, Hokkaido, Japan. (Scan of print)
Griffin, Georgia
Miniature Speed Graphic Press Camera, Graflex Optar 101mm f/4.5 lens with 120 roll film back. Ilford Pan F+ 50 film.
It's the 22nd July 1975 and a young Martin Stoolman has been lucky enough to secure himself a ride on the brake van of a concrete train out of Atlas Concrete Works headed up by a Class 37 (Ex D6726). Meanwhile in July 2020, I'm stood in bramble bush on a small step-ladder confusing the heck out of a woman turning up in a VW Beetle to take her dogs for a walk along the Marriott's Way.
Thanks to Martin for allowing me to use his original image and there will be a few more ghost from this trip coming in Winter when the bushes die back a bit.
Lenwade Station is still very much in use to this day, only as a private house.
[Factions Ep. 6 - Cat A][L13 - Fondor - TT] Area Secured!!
Build for the factions role play on eurobricks
Abandoned and neglected for many years Dantisbourne Rouse stood on a strategic knoll It also was reputed to stand on a area of great magical importance. Sadly overgrown and in disrepair it had been of interest to King Rufus for many years.
আমি তখন রাতের ট্রেনে করে ঢাকা থেকে বাড়ি আসছিলাম। আমার মতো আরো অনেকেই সেরাতে আসন বিহীন টিকেট নিয়ে ট্রেনে উঠেছিল। ছবির যাত্রীরা (খুব সম্ভবত মা - মেয়ে) আমার পাশেই দাঁড়ানো ছিল এবং ট্রেন ছাড়ার বেশ কিছু সময় পর ওনারা ক্লান্তিতে ট্রেনের মেঝেতেই বসে পরেন। তুলনামূলক বেশি ক্লান্ত হওয়ায় মেয়েটিকে মা নিজের বাহুতে শোবার জায়গা করে দেন। ট্রেনে ভিড় ও প্রতিকূল পরিস্থিতির মধ্যেও মায়ের কোলে নিশ্চয়তা ও নিরাপত্তা পেয়ে ঘুমিয়ে পড়ে মেয়েটি।
I love the fall
Ascend- Cole Long Coat
Cult - Hawkes Dress Shoes
Mossu- Nathan Jeans (with chain)
Veilance : Diamond Studs Platinum
David Heather-Kil Bag
Visit this location at // Backdrop City Blogger Spot // + Sandbox 4h auto return in Second Life
When you look upon a tomb stone, all most people see is just that, an empty grave site. But if you can look closer perhaps another story can unfold. So was the case of a distant relative of mine.
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Arthur LeClair was Murdered Dec. 22, in 1907 in Neche, North Dakota and was a distant family member of mine. He was murdered by his best friend. It made headlines in the surrounding towns. A very interesting story to read with a "surprise ending".
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The Pink Paper
Bathgate, Pembina Co, North Dakota
December 25, 1907
HORRIBLE MURDER
ARTHUR LECLAIR OF NECHE
KILLED WITH A HATCHET
Suspect arrested at Bathgate on Monday
Coroner’s inquest to be held today.
On Monday morning this city was greatly stirred up over a phone message to the effect that Arthur LeClair, well known to our young people, had been murdered the previous evening at Neche.
Inquiry at the chronotype office brought the following information. Arthur had been about town on Sunday evening until about 11:15 p.m. when he started home along.
That was the last seen as he did not go home, that night, his father became some what worried over his absence. He called the residence of Robert Faulker, a neighbor, and the two started to look for him. They thought he might have gone to the ice rink on the river near the Great Northern Railroad crossing and perhaps had fallen in some way and injured himself. When within a few hundred feet of the dam they came across a pool of blood but were not especially alarmed, thinking it, that of some animal. They followed the bloody trail and shortly came on a small axe or hatchet covered with blood and as they approached the dam they saw Arthur’s hat at the head of it. By this time they were fully aroused to the seriousness of the situation. There was blood down the apron of the dam and a small opening consequent on the flow of water but the body could not be seen. Mr. Faulker went to his residence near by and secured an axe and enlarged the opening a few feet when they saw the body of Arthur under the water and the remains were quickly recovered and taken to the residence of his parents. His face was not disfigured but there was a large gash in the back of his head through which his blood flowed.
The Lampman family and others of Neche people heard screams the previous evening about the hour Arthur must have started for home but thought it was probably some late roysters from across the line and paid no particular attention to it. At this hour of going to press nothing definite seems to have developed regarding the murderer or the cause of the crime.
As is usual in such cases the air is full of rumors, the most authentic of which connects the name of a Negro transient with the crime. The Negro is said to have been seen in Arthur’s company on Sunday and later in the day was evidently under the influence of liquor. He was in Neche until Monday morning when he left afoot in a southerly direction and stopped at the Vospers, Hicks, Messacres and other places and reach Bathgate shortly after noon. Marshall O’Harra received notice that the Negro was probably in this place and was wanted as a suspect. O’Harra soon rounded him up and he was taken back to Neche by officers. So far as we are able to learn the evidence against the suspect is purely circumstantial. The inquest will probably develop farther facts.
Arthur LeClair resided at Neche since his birth, with his parents and was 21 years of age. He has been engaged for some time past as fireman on the Neche and Walhalla branches of the Great Northern Railroad. He was at home to spend the holidays. The Neche people are aroused and will see that the matter is sifted to the bottom and the murderer brought to justice. It was evidently the most cold blooded and shocking murders ever committed in this county and no expense should be spared on the part of the county officials to make the investigation most thorough.
Coroner Bour of St. Thomas has been notified but not in time to get to the scene of the crime on Monday.
The Pink Paper
Bathgate, Pembina Co, North Dakota
January 1, 1907
The funeral of Arthur LeClair took place on Thursday. The body was taken from the LeClair home to the R. C. church, where a very brief and simple service was said by Rev Fr. Fobes. The casket was covered with floral tributes, and the hearse was followed by a large delegation of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Fireman, of which Arthur was a member, with whom marched a number of other friends of the dead boy, forming quite a procession. Interment was made in the Catholic cemetery here.
The Pink Paper
****Jan. 1, 1907****
Mr. Eli Roy, father of Mrs. Fred LeClair, and Mrs. J. Roy, sister-in-law of same, of St. Jean, Manitoba, arrived on Tuesday, calied by the death of Arthur LeClair.
The Pink Paper
Jan. 8, 1908
NECHE MURDER
-------------
WAS ONE OF THE MOST LAMENTABLE
CRIMES EVER COMMITTED IN
PEMBINA COUNTY
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James O’Brien, of Neche made a complete confession of the murder of Arthur LeClair, the Great Northern Fireman, Sunday. The 16 year old slayer gave up the details of his crime to J. C. Crawford a Pinkerton detective, who had been working on the case.The confession came after he had been confronted with his bloody clothing, hatchet with which the crime had been committed a bloody scarf and other evidences of his guilt. When the news was broken to the father of O’Brien, for years a resident of Neche and Customs Officer there, he broke down completely. Fred LeClair the father of the murdered boy called on him in an endeavor to console him.
Detective Crawford, 18 years in the business, had quite a time getting the murderer to confess. He worked various schemes and was finally successful, after picturing to the boy, the certainty of his conviction, and calling his attention to the great expense with which his father would be burdened, in case he fought the case in District Court.
The following is the complete confession of young O’Brien: To J.C. Crawford Pinkerton Detective.
On Sunday December 22, 1907, LeClair and I went to Gretna twice and drank each time. Coming back the second time both of us were quarreling as to who was the Best Man and LeClair said he could lick three O’Brien’s and I got mad. When we left Cook’s shop, I made an excuse to go out to the closet and I got a hatchet and we started for the rink. When we got down there he made some remarks about fighting me and he put one foot behind me and threw me over. I got up and he hit me and I hit him with a hatchet and after I saw what I had done, I hit him again and took his pocketbook and threw it in the river. I got the hatchet from behind the house where the ice is kept. I threw the body over the bank and followed the body down the bank, I think I had hold of him by the collar and dropped him right at the head of the dam, in the river. James O’Brien-
Witness (to Confession)
J.H. Anderson
J.C. Fielding
George Roadhouse
I James O’Brien, do voluntarily make a statement in my own handwriting and of my own free will before witness, J.C. Fielding and Geo. Roadhouse, that the contents and page no. 2 is a true statement of how I, James O’Brien, killed Arthur LeClair on Sunday, December 22, 1907. I have written this statement for the purpose of telling the truth on my part and have not shield anyone, as there was nobody implicated but myself.
_James O’Brien
Dated Sunday, December 22, 1907
Witness- Geo. Roadhouse
-J.C. Fielding
An effort was made yesterday to locate the money claimed by O’Brien to have been thrown in the Pembina River. Ice was broken but the money was not found. It is thought probable that O’Brien had not told the truth about the quarrel with LeClair and the disposition of the money. LeClair was not of a quarrelsome disposition and it is the general opinion, that he was killed in Cold Blood.
Although the above confession has been since shown by the boy murderer himself to have been in part a lie, it contains at least one horrible truth-James O’Brien foully murdered his friend. Whether he committed the crime as he relates it or whether he stepped behind LeClair and dealt the blow that felled him to the ground-interrupting perhaps a friendly conversation to do this deep most dark and damnable-will perhaps never be known except to him who has forever quitted god’s good sunshine for the light of a felon’s cell, who has forever breathed his last of the sweet air of liberty.
To return to the proceedings of the Saturday session of the coroner’s inquest. James O’Brien was the principal witness. He did not waver as he told states attorney Brynjolfson lie for lie; he did not change color when his gray haired father was forced to undergo the ordeal of accounting for his son’s movements the night of the murder; he did not blush for shame when his sorrow stricken mother was called upon to tell of the hatchet with which he had slain his chum; he did not even shudder when confronted with his own garments in which he knew was dried the blood of Arthur LeClair yet the meshes of the law were already about the boy, and he felt them tighten when he was place under arrest by sheriff Roadhouse Saturday evening. He must have realized that his guilt was known when he was taken to Pembina and place in a cell, in the county jail, but never, do we think, has he realized the enormity of his crime. He sang and whistled in his cell, and managing to lift the window, called to his acquaintances and held converse with them.
Pinkerton detective Crawford was admitted to O’Brien cell on Sunday afternoon, he told the boy that his guilt was known and that the proofs were positive He told him that one or two fates surely awaited him-hanging or life imprisonment. He told him that his crime was of a nature that merited hanging, and that the law had so inexorably provided. O’Brien still maintained his innocence. The detective told him that if the case came to trail and the prisoner entered a pea of not guilty, his guilt would surely be proven to the jury, and the Judge would undoubtedly be obligated, in view of the conclusive evidence submitted, to give him to the gallows. He told the boy that if he plead not guilty his father would, beggar himself in his defense, and all to no end-the result would be the same- a verdict of guilt. Still the boy protested that he had nothing to do with the murder of Arthur LeClair. Then the Pinkerton man told Jimmie that there were others suspected of complicity, and that a confession from him would not only cause sympathy as could be extended a murderer for himself, but would accelerate the ends of justice, while on the contrary if he, the prisoner, remained silent he could expect no mercy if found guilty, and a stigma of doubt would forever attach to the names of some perhaps innocent people. Already, the detective urges, the prisoner’s parents had suffered the pangs and pains of heartbreak, and by maintaining his innocence to the end, they would be further humiliated and their shame and sorrow held up to the gaze of all men, O’Brien was still obdurate. Then, after the detective had presented all these arguments in every light-and sympathy for the unfortunate boy perhaps made him eloquent-Jimmie at last burst into tears, and laying his head on Mr. Crawford knee’s confessed that he “did it alone.” Both the prisoner and the detective were now weeping. The confession followed which the boy-murderer has since himself proven to be a lie with the exception of the one all important fact-his hand, and his alone, dealt the blows that drove the life from the body of Arthur LeClair.
States-attorney Brynjolfson was called at once. O’Brien wrote with a lead pencil the confession which appears foregoing, in the presence of the witnesses whose names are there unto, subscribed. On Monday morning detective Crawford drove to Neche with the confession in his pocket, and proceeded to publish it to the townspeople. Everyone-even the family of the murderer-experience a feeling of great relief. Everyone had been morally certain-as certain as men can be before a trail by judge and jury-that James O’Brien had been the main actor in the hideous drama enacted on the night of December 22, but the demeanor of the murderer and the peculiar character of the trail made by dragging the body from the river bank to the hole below the dam-which indicated to those whose good judgment was recognized and respected that two had dragged the corpse, one at the head and one at the feet-led may to a belief that O’Brien had at least one accomplice. When it was learned that no one else had been in any way concerned in the commission of the crime everyone breathed freer, and to some the knowledge came as a relief from doubt and suspense.
*
*
After the inquest the prisoner made a request that he be allowed to see his parents before he was taken back to jail. The request was granted. In the intervening time, before his father could come to see him, he managed to communicate with one of the town boys to the effect that he would “find something, if he look under the rocks at the dam”. The officers were at once apprised of this statement, and a thorough search was made of the place mentions, which revealed nothing but three lead pencils found hidden under a stone. When the prisoner was allowed to see his father the latter on his knees begged his son to tell what had been done with the money. “I burned it,” was the reply. The search for the money by cutting ice below the dam was now discontinued. Shortly the prisoner left his parents, he told the detective that if he would allow, the place where the money was hidden would be revealed. The officer went with the boy to his father barn, and in the loft from under a handful of twine on a beam the boy took seventy dollars six five and four ten dollar bills. This O’Brien vowed was all the money he had taken from LeClair, the pocketbook he said he had burned in the kitchen stove. Sheriff Roadhouse took his prisoner back to Pembina Tuesday evening. Since then he has further amended his original confession by admitting that he had no quarrel with LeClair. This marks every vestige of the original confession as untruth, with the exception of the bare fact of the murder.
Detective Crawford on Wednesday secured a sworn affidavit from a seventeen year old boy who was a eye witness to the murder. The boy was
going home from Giadue’s rink that night about 11:15, and when coming up the road that runs along the river bank he saw figures ahead of him, and by their conversation recognized them as Arthur LeClair and James O’Brien. He was at this time standing about 60 feet from the spot where the murder occurred. As the boy relates it in his affidavit a conversation like this ensued between O’Brien; O’Brien-”Come on, Goose, let’s go down to the rink.” LeClair-”No, I'm sick; I’m going home and to bed.” O’Brien-”If you’re sick, lets walk to the woods-walk off your jag.” LeClair-”No, “I’m going home to bed.” O’Brien-”What you afraid of the wolves?” LeClair-Not afraid of anything, but I’m going home to bed.” The boy who had over heard this conversation saw the murder done. He ran home in terror, told his father what he had heard and seen, and begged him not to tell for fear “they might do something to him for it .” The affidavit was given on condition that the boy’s name would not be disclosed. It proves that there was nothing like a quarrel or a scuffle just before the murder. The thing was done in cold blood-a murder most foul.
O’Brien was given a preliminary hearing at Pembina Thursday. He plead guilty and was bound over to the session of the District court for sentence. It is believed he will receive a sentence of life imprisonment. The character of his crime would indicate that he can receive nothing less than this-If indeed, he escapes the hangman.
The Pink Paper
Jan. 15, 1908
CRIMINAL CALENDER
James O’Brien, aged 16 years, was sentenced at Pembina to life imprisonment for the murder of Arthur LeClair the Great Northern Fireman at Neche on Dec. 22th.
O’BRIEN PLEADED GUILTY
An appeal for clemency was made by John F. Conmy, attorney for the prisoner. Attorney Conmy pointed to the youth of the prisoner and the fact that he had become intoxicated as a result of saloons being kept open illegally at Gretna (Canada) on Sunday. As attorney Conmy pleaded for him O’Brien broke down and wept.
Judge W. J. Kneeshaw spoke for about 15 minutes to the prisoner and his remarks were intended as much for the great crowd assembled in the court room. He pictured O’Brien as one who had given away to his baser feelings and who was not about to pay the penalty. Bad habit, disregard for the law and the rights of others finally ended in the murder of a friend for a paltry sum of money.
A foul murder has been committed in Neche, by a boy of tender years, only sixteen years of age. He comes of a good family but had previous to
committing this crime built up an unsavory reputation. We do not know why. Whether improper administration of the parent is responsible for the acts of a boy so young can not always be determined. But waywardness and evil tendencies manifest themselves in a character at premature age and then is the time to apply or administer the remedy. Keep track of the boy and try and see that he does not frequent places of questionable demeanor that fill the atmosphere with the fumes of moral perversion. See to it that he selects
Good and Virtuous companions and guide him along the pathway of youth in
such manner that no one can point a finger of scorn at you for delinquency in parental duties. The church, the Sunday school, the home and the Public school have that boy in their care and his future is molded by the influences and environments of youth. “As the twig is bent, the tree is inclined”, if you deem yourself a good father or mother keep your eye on your boy.
O’Brien father was present in the court room with the boy. The old man is over come with sorrow and the disgrace the boy had brought upon him.
O’Brien was taken to the penitentiary Saturday evening.
Before passing sentence Judge Kneeshaw said;
“You are accused of murder in the first degree for the murder of Arthur LeClair, aforethought, with premeditated design to effect the death of Arthur LeClair; then and there assaulted and beat him with a hatchet from which he died. Have you any reason why the court should not sentence you?”
PLEA FOR O’BRIEN
J. P. Conmy, counsel for the defendant, in reply said:
“At this time, before sentence is pronounced, we wish to say a few words. We know just the position in which the court is placed in this case according to the law. However, we throw our self upon the mercy of the court and ask for clemency. Consider the character of the accused. He is not a hardened and unfeeling criminal. We do not mean that there should be no punishment for crime, on account of the tender age-but we do feel that in this case where a boy has confessed. In such a case, your honor, we believe that there is due clemency from this court. However, now that matters have been placed before you in their true light, that the accused stands before you readily, bear in mind the youthfulness of the lad-life is sweet to him-and the heartrending of his parents. Extend to him all the clemency in your power. This confession was not given to obtain the mercy of the court. It was given by James O’Brien with the purpose of removing the doubt, if there was any, from others and to prevent any further torture to his parents. On the circumstances surrounding the crime let me dwell. Let me introduce to you the surrounding which have assailed the life of the accused, the bars, and saloons of Grenta, the one necessary qualification being the price. How easy to pass from one station to the other. Think of the temptations which surrounded your life, of the temptations of any boy at the age of 16. How easy then it was to fall into temptations, which robbed him of his senses from unlawful administration of others. While we ask clemency we know the position in which the court is placed. His confession was made to free all others on whom the shadow of doubt might rest.”
COURT TO THE ACCUSED
Judge Kneeshaw said to James O’Brien:
“The law of this state when a defendant pleads guilty to a charge of murder provides that if he pleads guilty to murder in the second degree it then devolves into murder and the court may then examine witnesses in order to inquire into the enormity of the crime, or he may call in a jury to pass on the punishment, or he may refuse to pass on the plea and submit the case to a jury. In this case I have decided to receive the plea of guilty in the first degree and I will say that by so doing I have been placed in a very trying position. You, James O’Brien, I have known since you were a baby, and I have known your father and mother for 30 years. They are some of the old settlers in the county, and when I say old settlers of the Red River valley I mean they consist of the best people that ever lived. I have known your father when I was a young man, and learned to like him as a brother, and it is indeed, a trying thing for me to pass sentence upon you. I have no doubt that the bars of Gretna are largely responsible for the death of LeClair. No person can realize that a boy your age could ever commit a crime as been developed in this case. No more dastardly deed has ever been committed in this county.
JUDICIAL MURDER
“The penalty provided for such crime is death or imprisonment for life. In this case I will say and I feel proud to be able to say that I consciously do not believe that capital punishment is justifiable. Hanging is nothing but judicial murder. There is no excuse for a state to take a man out in cold blood and hang him by the neck. Most people of the present day believe hanging is a relic of barbarism. Now, Jimmie, you can see what whisky, and bad company have brought upon you. You can realize that in cold blood, you killed your chum and brought him before God and his maker. You can see what trouble rests upon your parents and all on account of whisky and bad company. I have noticed that during the proceedings you have shed many tears. I am glad of that. I believe that when a boy is able to shed tears and show that he is penitent that there is some hope that he may repent. This is indeed not only to you and boys of this country of the bad effects of whisky and I hope that everyone in my hearing will take this home with them. Now, Jimmie, I will have to sentence you. I hope that god’s holy spirit may be with you and help you and guide you in your future life. I think I have expressed to you all I can on this line.
“The sentence of the court is that you James O’Brien, shall be confined in the state penitentiary in the county of Burleigh, state of North Dakota, at hard labor for the rest of your natural life, commencing at 12 o’clock noon today.”
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Epilogue:
When World War I broke out the army needed bodies and promised any one in prison who would serve in the army, and survived, would be offered a pardon when the war ended. As luck would have it O’Brien served throughout the war without a scratch. After the war he returned to Neche. However, the local people would have nothing to do with him and shunned him. After a short time he left and was never seen or heard from again.
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Volunteers and workers strapping down the hot air balloon gondola before the full lift off. The hot air balloon in it's final stage of lift off, volunteers seen grounding the gondola to ensure enough lift for a vertical lift off, avoiding nearby balloons.
My third roll of film shot at the secure grounds. A close shot with the Pentax 67. A recent events at the Putrajaya First Hot Air Balloon Festival , held at Precinct 2, Putrajaya Core Island. The late evening sun casting long shadows for the events...a dramatic sight, and an exciting event.
PENTAX 67, Pentax SMC 105mm F2.4, Fujifilm Neopan 100, Self-Development, Ilfotec LC29, 1/19th Dilution, 8 min, Wide open
One from earlier this month ... a few years back, I was obsessed with how people tied up their boats, as no 2 seemed to be tied the same.
Ernest William Gimson was an English furniture designer and architect. Gimson was described by the art critic Nikolaus Pevsner as "the greatest of the English architect-designers". Today his reputation is securely established as one of the most influential designers of the English Arts and Crafts movement in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Gimson designed many buildings in the UK, with the two most notable being his first new house commission, Inglewood in Leicester, and the National Trust property in Leicestershire called Stoneywell. Gimson designed a number of Arts and Crafts cottages in the village of Ulverscroft in Charnwood Forest, Leicestershire, including Stoneywell and the neighbouring thatched Lea Cottage, built in 1898.
A Deep Hug and Hearfelt thank you to my Friend Emma for playing along
www.flickr.com/photos/193415394@N05
Masquerade Ball
“Raffles” Pitch
“Cheerio” A J Raffles at your service. Don’t know if any of you have ever heard of me, but I’ve been accused of being a man of many talents, but by no means was that always said as a compliment.
Also, I do love playing cricket.
Batting in a cricket match produces for me the same flow of adrenaline as that of my secret game: Jewel Thievery.
A J Raffles is a fictional character whom I admire for the introduction above. For I am, like him, a professional Jewel Thief.
And tonight was no exception as far as any adrenaline flow Raffles would have felt, for I was experiencing what I can imagine was the same exhilaration.
This evening I was attending a surprisingly posh masquerade ball being held at a large venue in Wales.
It was a very elegant affair, with the many ladies present putting on their most pretty attire and wearing out that evening, their most expensive vault kept baubles.
The venue seated about 500 guests with a raised dance floor at one end, next to a fully stocked bar and a large outside balcony overlooking some rose gardens lined by old woods.
I had decided to attire myself as said Raffles for a tongue-in-cheek tribute to what I hoped to gain this evening.
Mostly to gain some jewels by parting some of the ladies from the lovely ones they were wearing. Which, here tonight, presented a plethora of opportunities.
I would try and make it as pleasant as it possibly could be for my chosen female victims as my fingers worked over their exquisitely clad figures while removing their valuable jewels.
I find that a few kind words, some attention, and possibly dancing produced a little sugar that helps with the bitter pill I am giving them to swallow
This evening I was wearing all black attire of tails, vest, shirt, and tie. Since it was a masquerading affair, I wore a black phantom of the opera half mask. Since this was business as well as pleasure I was wearing no gentlemanly gloves, needing my nimbly flexible fingers to be free.
After I entered I made several slow rounds to learn the layout, doing some light mingling along the way.
The odd thing about this masquerading ball was that there were no fancy costumes. Everyone was dressed in their best evening out attire, with masks just added.
I made a catch right away as I impressed an older matronly lady enough that she called over her 30 something daughter to meet me.
It was now my turn to be impressed.
The daughter, Celcia, was dressed in a very elegant long-sleeved dress of silver satin. Her jewels were all set with diamonds. Her silver half mask is set in rhinestones.
We went off alone to look over the gardens from the balcony.
We guess what each other is “masked” as. I told her she must be “Lucy”
“Lucy?” she questioned
I laughed lifting her silky hair up and then running my fingers down the side of her long swaying diamond earrings, as I said. “lucy in the sky with diamonds. “
“Good guess, but I'm just Cecelia, not anyone else. And you sir, are you an undertaker?”
I chuckled. “ Not quite as dark as that, I'm shooting for a Raffles image tonight.”
“Well Mr. Raffles, not sure who you are, but it is my pleasure to meet you.”
We chatted for a bit more, then Celcia was called back inside by her mother who stood by the balcony entrance.
I took her hand, rings flashing. “ the pleasure is all mine dear ‘only Ceclia’l said grinning.
She rewarded me for my praise with a clingy hug.
I watched her leave with clenched fists, her gown swishing along down her figure quite provocatively. I opened one of my fists and admired the diamond bracelet that lay there. Her now naked wrist was covered up by the silver satin cuffed sleeve of the lovely Cecilia's dress, hiding her loss.
£23,000
I slipped it inside a hidden pocket of my vest, and patting it, went back inside.
The band had started playing and the dance floor was fast filling up.
I spied a group of ladies wearing feathery masks who were huddled at one end of the floor, blocking an aisleway, watching the assembling dancing couples. I approached and overheard that they were waiting for their partners to come back from the bar.
Since they were blocking my path, I went up and asked if I could cut through. They obligingly parted and as I went in between them one of the ladies tripped against another as I ‘accidentally’ stepped on her satin gowns’ long train as she moved to make way. I caught her and apologized as I held her, my fingers freely feeling along down her figure. I helped her back on her high heels, steadying her. Helping myself at the same time to the leaf-shaped diamond studded clip that was pinned to the side of her chocolate brown gown.
The diamond-studded clip soon joined the pocketed diamond bracelet.
£18,000
My third score that evening almost literally fell into my lap.
I had ordered a brandy at the bar figuring to take a brief respite. There were two ladies next to me chatting away. The one immediately next to me kept bumping against me as she laughed at almost everything the other lady was saying.
I didn't mine, for her thicke wine-colored silk blouse was a pleasure to feel rubbing up against me. Also, a pleasure to see where the magnificently large rings she was wearing on her fingers as well as the diamonds wrapped around her wrist.
Then it happened. The laughing lady’s friend knocked their drinks over. Some of which happily splashed on my arm.
As apologies were given and received, with much giggling, I came to the rescue with my silk handkerchief.
Lending it to them I allowed them to wipe themselves up. As we chatted, the lady next to me finished with it and handed it back. I took up her fingers as she did, and holding them down lifted and kissed the back of her hand. I also was running my damp handkerchief over her still wet fingers as I did, easily slipping of her largest flashy cocktail ring in the process.
£ 9500
Then the dancing began in earnest.
I was now sitting at a table on the outside balcony, watching the crowded dance floor and the amazing show of the ladies flowing attire, and their flickering jewels, that were being showcased there.
Also in my view was a table where a handsome bearded male was enviably sitting alone with not one, but two attractively attired and ornamented lades.
One lady was wearing a black satin blouse with a long thicke red velvet skirt. She was wearing rubies and diamonds around her throat and wrists that were just a treat to look at, and covet.
The other was fashionably wearing a slick satin high necked gown of deep red that spilled down along her figure in a most scintillating manner. Her jewellery was a winning collection of diamonds worn seemingly everywhere from her figure. Of those, I would award a purple ribbon to the dangling necklace that lay around and fell from her throat that dripped columns of diamonds down the front of her sheer red gown, as the best in the show.
I saw the man rise, and pull out the chair of the lady wearing the rubies. He then led her off to the upper dance floor, unknowingly leaving the lady in red vulnerably alone.
I saw the remaining lady stand up and with what I imagined to be a whimsical manner, walked to the edge of the balcony.
I started to rise.
But a gold mask-wearing bloke from another table approached her before I had half risen and began talking to her. I learned then that her name was Emma.
What was odd is that the man had been sitting at a table with a lady wearing a sky blue satin dress, black satin jacket, and pearls. She looked very sad watching her gold mask-wearing tablemate talking to Emma.
I had dejectedly sat back down, watching with curious interest.
The gold masked bloke took Emma by the hand and led her to the dance floor.
I saw the lady in sky blue satin, and the pricey pearl slowly rises and follow.
As then, did I.
The lady in blue was standing in the side of the dancefloor, her posture told me she was both sad and dejected.
I went up and stood next to her. Without looking at me the lady in sky blue sleek satin said...
“Why are men such idiots?” then she looked at me, and blushed apologetically “I am so sorry.”
I held up my hand. “Apology accepted, a dance though would help ease the pain.”
She eagerly went with me and taking her warm, soft figure in my arms we joined in.
She did not appear to want any conversation from me. I let her hold tightly against me. We danced in silence, both lost in our own respective thoughts.
I had decided that a dance would not be enough to ‘ease my pain’ and as she distractedly looked around for the gold masked bloke dancing with Emma, I allowed my hand the move up to her shoulder, then over to the single strand of glistening pearls that lay around her throat.
Easily locating, then slipping open, the hinged silver clasp, I gently pulled the slippery smooth necklace away from around her neck and quickly pocketed it.
£ 8700
I had no sooner done so than I felt her shake, and saw that we were now close to the gold masked male dancing with Emma. One would need a crowbar to separate him from her. I could tell Emma was not enjoying herself.
I was watching, with melancholy interest, Emma’s diamonds dripping down from the necklace that lay low along the high neckline of her luxurious red satin gown, just dangling below her breasts.
A desiring fire was starting to stir from deep within, my fingers felt like curling. So close and yet so far...
I turned my partner around so we were facing away. I started to say something when I felt an unexpected, firm tap on my shoulder.
Well, one could imagine where my mind went as I turned my head.
Relieved, I saw that it was not one of the rental security men.
It was the gold masked table partner of the lady in blue satin I was dancing with.
I saw his more recent partner, Emma, the one in red whose dazzling necklace was a stirring lure, standing there in the middle of the dance floor, alone and confused.
“Switch partners.” He told me, it was not a question.
I looked at mine and she nodded ok.
I left her to be grasped up in his arms and went to Emma, the lady in red, who willingly came into mine.
“What then, was that all about? I asked smiling.
Emma answered with a giggle. “ He was telling her he wanted to see other women. But she is not supposed to he dancing with other men, especially handsome ones like you!”
With a shy nod of my head I thanked her, telling her that I thought she looked extraordinarily beautiful this evening.
Sweetly smiling she turned her head down with blushing cheeks, thanking me.
My hand meanwhile, which had been resting motionless along her shoulder, moved to her throat, my fingers blindly seeking and locating the clasp of her necklace.
My partner felt none of that.
It was as she nodded after my words of praise that I flicked apart the jewelled chains’ clasp that my fingers had fiddled open.
As she looked back up I began to delicately slip the diamond chain up over her shoulder, watching as the diamonds hanging from its’ centre were gliding up effortlessly from along the front of her red satin gown, then up and around the gowns’ slick high neckline, before disappearing from my view.
She smiled most fetchingly into my eyes, oblivious to the fact her heavily jeweled diamond necklace had been disappearing over her shoulder.
£ 58000
The music was ending and I happened to look over by the double oak doors of the main entrance on the opposite side of the mammoth hall.
Who did I spy but the lady in the sleek sky blue satin dress and smooth black jacket being led out by the gold mask-wearing bloke who had cut in on us? I saw an opportunity to plant a seed.
I pointed it out to Emma. “Wonder where they are off too in such a hurry?”
“They do appear to be on a mission,” said Emma watching.
“I hope they weren't up to something?” I said suspiciously.
“Like what ?” Emma asked watching the couple scurrying out the door.
“Oh, nothing. I guess I read too many mystery novels. I answered stealing a look at the now bare neckline of Emma’s gown.
The music ended and I walked Emma back to the balcony. Her table was deserted so I took her over and seated her before taking my leave.
I began to make another round of the tables inside. On the lookout for fresh prey amongst the beautifully attired female guests.
I soon snagged a young damsel who had been deserted by her friends and looked bored. Not boring were the collection of rubies she was wearing with her elaborate maroon taffeta puffy ball gown that would have shamed a princess.
I asked and got permission to dance with her. She asked me who I was this evening. When I mentioned Raffle’s name she, unfortunately, caught on to who he was.
“Oh a thief, will make sure to lock my rubies up this evening to keep them safe! She giggled touching her handsome ruby and diamond necklace
I thought to myself... “Well, they are now.” while saying. “ I was thinking of him being a cricket player, not a thief.”
We both laughed over that, but I knew this one was a dead end. I could not wait until the dance was through so I could resume the hunt. I really had thought none of the younger ones would have ever read about AJ Raffles and that it would be my inside joke.
We parted after the dance, she headed off happily back to her friends.
I was watching her, deciding what to do next, when a soft gloved hand unexpectedly rested on my shoulder.
Turning, my eyes took in a young lady in downy soft, flowy peach chiffon over a shiny pink silk number, along with a row of sparkling matched diamonds around her throat. And earrings to match, as well as a thin band of diamonds holding back her freshly washed chestnut coloured hair. She wore a striking blue mask with ostrich feathers.
She shyly asked if I was available for the next dance. And I happily told her I was. She put her head down blushing. And I was able to savor her delectably pretty matched diamond stone necklace.
I whisked her off to the upper dance floor as the music began.
When the inevitable questions came up as to who I was this evening I answered...”The cricket player Raffles, at your service.”
She laughed with a Twitter. “Quite pleasant to meet you cricket player Raffles.” then she moved her hand higher up my back and came in a little closer.
I followed suit, feeling her hot figure slip in against my own. My fingers at her waist kept moving up until I reached the back of her neck. Carefully undoing her necklace I gave it a slight tug, figuring her soft smooth gown would allow the rest of my trick to work. It did, slipping off easily from around her throat, slithering like a glimmering snake up over her shoulder, out of my sight, and into my waiting hand behind her back.
My pretty dance partner felt nothing, as I then pocketed her expensive necklace.
£42,000
I then calmly began to finish the dance.
It was then, as I was looking down at the area below the raised platform of the dance floor, that I spotted something shiny, then a flashing brilliant fire erupted, all coming from one of the tables below the dancing areas raised platform.
I maneuvered us in closer for a better peek.
I made out a lone female sitting at a side table.
It was the vivid deep green of her shiny party dress that then first caught my eye.
It was the amazingly brilliant sparklers she was sporting from various points of interest along her delightful figure, especially the fiery necklace she was playing with, that finished the capture.
Only real jewels, or a remarkably good set of imitations, would produce that kind of bright gleaming shimmer!
I was betting they were real.
She was vulnerable, sitting there quite remarkably alone at her side table, drinking slowly from a small goblet of wine. Sitting there wearing in all appearances to be a collection of diamond sparklers that would easily be worth a cool £50 to £75 thousand of what the London ruffians would call “ice”.
They would also be rudely calling her “that loaded bird”. But to me, she was a rather fetchingly adorned Lass who needed some company, and perhaps just a wee bit of trimming.
The dance ended and I calmly led my partner back to her table before taking my leave. Though trying not to appear in a hurry. I still politely declined her offer to join in a drink at her table.
Then with eager anticipation, circled about hoping that the girl I had spotted was still there, and still alone.
When I got there I saw to my dismay that the bird had flown the coup. The table was deserted
I waited a few long minutes, eyeing around for other opportunities in the area, then my eyes lit up as I saw her coming back, alone.
I observed her for a satisfying few long minutes from a shadowy corner. She was younger than anyone I had yet met, but it was impossible to determine how young.
And she obviously was bored.
Intriguingly I could still not truly tell about the authenticity of her amazing collection of diamonds from my vantage.
The set was decidedly quite lovely, consisting of a dangling chain set with I guess were diamond chips and ending with a swaying diamond heart-shaped pendant, matching long earrings, a wide bracelet, and numerous shimmering rings.
The earrings were brilliant, falling from her ears in sheets of (synthetic/real ?) diamonds, larger stones were set at the earrings clasp, and they shone like the real thing.
They all contributed to making up the shimmer that surrounded her figure like some wickedly glittering halo.
She was wearing a black bandits mask, which I felt added to the mystic.
This young chick was certainly jeweled up, calling out to be looked into further.
I approached her from behind, placing a hand delicately upon a plushly soft shoulder, and daringly gave a greeting as I felt her startled figure flinch.
I cheerfully said, “Hello Samantha.”
She turned and said apologizing,
“I’m not Samantha, wrong girl.”
I answered back, disappointed “ No, you certainly are not my friend Samantha.”
I then carefully looked her over, up and down… before saying.
“Far prettier, if I dare say.”
I had ascertained by now that she was quite a bit younger than 20. And that most of her jewelry was quite good imitation’s. Her heart shaped pendent contained real diamonds, but not valuable enough for my attention. The only fly in the ointment was her earrings. They appeared to be worth quite a bit actually.
I decided to hold off judgment and went on playing her on. Much like a fly fisherman will play a trout, not sure if he still wants to actually land it.
I went on…
“Well stranger, How do you do, Hold anyone up lately?”
I had taken her off guard and she did not answer back right away.
She gulped., obviously making a decision.
She sweetly raised a hand. “How do you do sir, my name is Nancy, and no, despite the mask, I'm not a thief.”
Taking her hand I kissed it with much pageantry. “Pleasure is all mine, glad my watch and wallet are safe”. I chuckled merrily, looking down at her thoughtfully.
Then, still holding her hand, I boldly asked…” May I sit for a bit, rather tuckered out at the moment?”
She nodded her head without hesitation. Her flash earrings swayed with a beckoning motion.
I slipped in the seat in front of her, my back to the dance floor. She was looking at me with a curious smile.
I smiled back, asking…
“So Nancy, what then, does your character do for a living if she is not a thief?”
“ I am an amateur detective.”
I nodded before asking….
“ Well, that is quite interesting indeed, what kind of cases do you like working on?”
She did not know how to answer that and squirmed as I watchers her face turn red, really making the freckles show up on her cheeks.
I saved her discomfort by saying…
“ I bet you are really clever at catching thieves. And that is why you are here this evening? Or are you taking the night off?”
Taking the cue, She nodded saying in a low voice.
“No thieves here tonight.”
I laughed in what I hoped would be a winning manner while answering. “ I guess not, probably no reason for one to be here. So miss Nancy, you've not asked whom I am playing this evening.”
”Let me see, an Undertaker ?” ”Nancy,” said teasingly.
I chuckled..”Not even close. A.J. Raffles, cricketer, at your command my lady.”
She had no idea who A.J.Raffles was, I could see that. And I decided to enlighten her a bit by telling a story.
He chuckled. “Never heard of him? Well, Raffles loved to play cricket, as well as several other hobbies. And there is a story behind that, as a lad, that helped him choose his course as an adult. Care to hear it?”
She eagerly nodded yes, while taking a sip of wine.
I began my tale…
“When A.J. Raffles was a lad of ten he attended a wedding where his parents were both best man and maid of honor. A.J sat at a table with an older Great Auntie who paid him no heed.
He soon fell in with a group of bored older boys who had been throwing dice in a makeshift crown and anchor board. The game had been broken up by one of the servers and they had all been chased away
AJ was huddled in with that group as they watched the dressed-up wedding guests up on the dance floor. They began talking amongst themselves, commenting over the scene before them.
Look at dem jools the birds are wearing. Bet they'd be worth a lot. One of the lads said. Another quipped back that too bad those dames weren't their age. Yeah, like that would mean anything. What would you do, lift their jools? Came the teasing retort. Hell yeah, I would say a cocky lad. And someone else said I like to see you do it. AJ was taking all this in, squirming a bit because he had always had a secret desire to somehow make a collection of the pretty jewellery he'd seen ladies wearing. Tonight was no different.
“Nancy” smirked “Sounds like my brother.”
“There you go then, you know how he felt also “ I answered smiling curiously before continuing...
Well as fate would have it, two young teenage girls came walking past, purposefully close. They threw the group of boys a rather coy look while passing.
One was dressed in a slick satin high necked gown of deep red with a long rhinestone necklace and earrings. Her companion was wearing a sky blue sleek satin party dress, smooth black jacket, and strands of imitation pearls.
No sooner had they passed than the inner circle of boys began to dare and double dare. Money was put up in bets that enticed two of the lads to take up the challenge. That being to come away with the girl’s necklaces.
The two lads left, and as the others looked on, went up to the two young lassies and began to converse. The giggling girls finally allowed themselves to be led to the dance floor
As they began to dance, more bets were made amongst the remaining lads, with young AJ joining in. Spending his only farthing on blue satin losing her pearls, and doubling that it would be done without her noticing.
Both of the dancing boys made several amateur attempts upon their female partner’s jewels.
Blue satin, misinterpreting why her partner had his hand high up on her backside, giggled and fled away. Red satin ran off after her friend, but not before the wily lad who had been holding her had given even her a hug, nicking her shimmering necklace off from around the high collar of her slick gown as she struggled free.
He came back triumphantly to collect his winnings. Though some argued that seeing her necklace had not been touching skin it was not a real contest. He got his winnings in the end and the group wandered off, the prized necklace being passed around with envy.
AJ stayed behind contemplating. he watched as the lads stopped by a table where a young girl sat alone. She was wearing a long bridesmaid's gown of silk dyed in several shades of teal and green. A single string of real pearls hung down from her bare neck. Expensively swinging down elegantly. He knew what the group of lads was discussing in their private huddle. AJ moved off not wishing to see anymore.
“Those poor girls, I am glad your character walked away from that instead of embarking on a life of crime, “ said “Nancy” to me.
“Yes indeed. “ I answered, looking at my pretty partner. Her shiny emerald green blouse was mesmerizingly beautiful, but not quite as mesmerizing as the hanging rhinestone diamond chain and pendent she still wore due to my hesitation overtaking it.
My fingers curled seeking opportunity, cursing that I may have missed it.
“Nancy, out of curiosity, if I’m not prying, you mentioned your brother would like my Raffles’s story?”
Oh! I could see I hit a pleasant nerve, as she smiled excitedly at me, her hand playing with her pendant as she spoke, a bit hoarsely I noticed.
“Yes he would, your Raffle story is similar to a game he likes playing.”
“Please tell me more, it sounds like you have fun playing it,” I said, with curious intentions.
She giggled. “Well, we play it in the woods. I wear a play dress and play jewelry. My brother plays a thief who tries to rob me of my jewels. Then if he does, he hides and I play the detective trying to find him. I know it sounds rather odd.”
That really opened my eyes, and thoughts started to race through my head.
“I took her hand. “No, not at all odd, sounds rather exciting.”
So they like to play games of jewels stolen. Right up my alley. I thought to myself while eyeballing her necklace.
“No,” I said to myself. Not the necklace. If anything the earrings.”
But I could not see how It could be done. So I chased the teasingly tempting thought out of my head.
A silence ensued for a minute, and as I watched,” Nancy” was looking over my shoulder up at the raised platform of the dance floor behind me, watching something.
I turned around, following her eyes.
A man with a green cummerbund was dancing with an attractive redhead.
She was wearing an elegant eye-catching blue taffeta gown with a scooped neckline, ruffled half sleeves, and knee-length skirt. She was wearing what was probably her best jewels, a sapphire and diamond jewelry set that sparkled deliciously under the ceiling lights of the great banquet hall. The necklace was especially pretty. A heavy gold v shape set with large pear-shaped sapphires interspersed with smaller round diamonds. She wore a deep blue mask that covered her eyes and nose.
I turned back, and Nancy” dropped her eyes back onto mine.
I asked thoughtfully…
“I see you are looking at that lady, pretty in blue, with the sparkly sapphire jewels”
She guiltily nodded yes,
“If you wait a bit, you will meet them. That’s my mum and father.
I complimented her…
“You both are very pretty, if I may be so bold?”
Taking up her hand and I kissed it…
“But now, I must be toddling off, taken up too much of your time I’m afraid .”
We both stood up to say goodbye.
Shen then. Quite cheerfully, held out her hands for a friendly hug.
I did so willingly and my fingers securely patted up along her back. it felt very nice and I became aware of a rather pleasant prickling sensation causing a rise in my feelings.
“Well “Nancy” I hope you liked my Raffles story.
“Nancy” nodded yes, then asked me
“Do you think Raffles regretted not playing the games those boys were up to?”
Holding her hand, I patted down along her sleeve reassuringly… as I said
“I think Raffles is the type never to regret anything, what do you think?”
“Nancy” nodded her head happily satisfied. Her dazzling earrings flickered quite beautifully.
I smiled at myself broadly.
“Here “Nancy” allow me to get you seated.”
She sat. And as I gripped my fingers supportively along her arms as I slid the chair forward.
I then again lifted and kissed her hand.
“Righto” I nodded and was off.
I headed back around to the bar, when whom did I spy? “Nancy’s” mother, standing alone by the bar. I saw some drunken sod bump hard against her from behind, almost causing her to lose balance.
A handsome red-headed man was turning away from the bar holding a brandy and she fell against him.
It was her husband. The man she has been dancing with.
Laughing, the pair moved off.
Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I followed them out to the outside balcony. There I took a seat at my table and kept watch.
I watched as from another table, where a 40ish lady wearing a wedding ring was sitting alone, rise and began walking towards me.
She was resplendent in a long black sleeveless plush velvet gown, wearing long black satin gloves. Her pearl jewelry shone like do many small bright moons. Earrings, triple strand necklace, and a very wide bracelet set with not only valuably real pearls, but expensively with purple amethyst stones also.
The bracelet fits snugly around her shiny gloved wrist. And anyone in my profession knows a snug bracelet is a far simpler item to remove than a loose-fitting one.
The purple satin half-face mask she wore added much to her winningly pretty look.
She gave me the eye as she walked past and I rose to follow.
We ended up dancing. Her name, real name(and that of her character from the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's) was Holly.
Holly, like “Nancy”, had never heard of the Raffles character either.
I left her after we had danced, holding her heart.
The hand which she placed had placed over her heart, no longer sporting her expensively wide pearl and amethyst bracelet.
£ 23000
She then suddenly had to go to the loo and darted off. I looked back at her table and saw a man in a tiger-striped mask was pulling out a chair to sit there.
I also figured it was time to scurry off. I had gotten me one more score.
I went down the steps leading off the raised dance floor, running right into “Nancy’s” mum swishing her way around at the bottom of the platform
“Seize the day-old chap”
My thoughts of leaving were put on hold as I looked her pretty, and expensively attired, figure over.
I held her up, saying I needed to apologize.
She looked into my face, her eyes twinkling like her daughters. Her sapphire and diamond jewellery also twinkling. But unlike her daughter’s, these she was wearing were very real.
“Apologize for what?” she asked in all innocence. I could also tell she was a bit tipsy from drink. Which considerably lowered her guard with me.
“ I saw that twit rudely bumping against you at the bar earlier, without apologizing. So I am for him.” I said with a neat little bow.
“Aren't you just a dear." she gushed, blushing. Just like her daughter, she had freckles also.
“Would you husband mind if I offered a dance as a consolation?” I asked with daring.
“Oh, I think a quick one would be ok,” she said smiling, accepting my offer.
I placed my arm around her glossy taffeta sleek waist and led her to the lower dance area.
It was a slow dance, and I took her into my arms with a delightfully delicious feeling of anticipation. Her sleekly taffeta-covered figure was a pleasure to warmly hold in my arms, and her twinkling jewels a pleasure to watch.
I, with real curiosity, asked who she was playing at this evening. She replied,” miss Moneypenny” then asked who I was.
Not wishing to jinx my good fortune, I lied. “ I am an undertaker, here to collect souls”
She laughed looking sassily into my eyes.
“Liar”
“Ok then, I'm really a bad cricket player.”
“Really, bad as in naughty?” she asked pleasantly vexed.
This one is fun, I thought to myself. I wondered mischievously if she was the catalyst if her children’s play game ideas had been inherited from her?
But I asked no questions along those lines. Instead, I decided to test the water with a story.
I then went into a similar story that I had told “Nancy” except to her mother I changed to arena from a wedding reception to a cricket match, and the group of lads was trying to steal kisses, not jewels, from their chosen victims.
My partner listened with a deep reflective interest.
So intent was she in my tale, that I was able to easily undo her necklaces ‘clasp and watch the shimmering beauty being slipped away by me from up her front, then around her throat, finally to be pulled out of sight behind her back. All skillfully done without the cheerfully happy lady feeling absolutely anything amiss.
Just like her daughter I thought. Innocent and as trusting as a lamb before being fleeced for the first time by a mock shepherd.
And reflectively, both had been dressed as soft as downy chicks when they had both caught the eye of the same wiley gilded feather plucking fox.
These were the thoughts in the back of my mind as I stowed my dance partner's glittering sapphire and diamond necklace away...
£6300
I finished my story just a few seconds after the music ended. We broke apart only once I had finished.
She hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek for being so nice
“Here is a stolen kiss,” she whispered
She then, (of course after nicking her necklace) mentioned that her husband was also a cricket player. With his bloody police station’s team!
I was stunned. Half wishing she had told me her husband was a “copper” before I had nicked her jewels.
Figuring I had now finally worn out my luck, and welcome, I made up an excuse of my own and watched as her shiny evening dress swished and swayed all along with her lovely figure while she made her way back towards the unseen table where I knew her pretty daughter was sitting.
“Bloody fool, I had taken the necklace off a copper’s wife...“
I murmured this, chastising myself, shaking my head at my folly as I stared off in disbelief.
Understandably I think, I then decided I should probably best be on my way home.
I had already planned my exit earlier, not knowing when I would be needing it.
Deciding to avoid at all costs leaving by the main doors by which I had come in, I had earlier discovered a small set of stone stairs that led off the balcony.
The stairs were narrow and hidden from the view of the balcony. A simple rope with an “Off Limits” sign guarded the entrance. They led down to the small patch of woods that lined the rose gardens.
On the far end of the woods was a small cemetery, next to which I had discreetly parked my 61 Lotus elite sports car.
I made my way to the balcony and looked around. There weren't that many guests left out there. A group of men smoking cigars and drinking brandy stood at one end. I could make out the rather stout form of “Nancy’s” father in with them. His back was to me.
In a corner sat Emma with her tablemates. The male was telling a very animated story.
A few other tables were occupied, about 1/3 of them. None near the hidden stairway.
I made my way there. Reaching it, I again surveyed the area. I could see the 3 people sitting at Emma’s we're laughing. Emma had a hand to her chest. Suddenly a look of alarm crossed her face as she felt around, obviously not finding her diamonds. Her friends were asking what was wrong. I saw her look back at the empty table where the gold masked bloke had sat, the one who had cut in on me as after her deserting Emma on the dance floor.
As I disappeared unseen from view I remember thinking I was glad that I had sowed that seed of thought to Emma while we had watched the couple leaving the ballroom.
€€€€€€€€€€€
I got to the bottom of the stairs and made my way to the wooded path the ran the length of the gardens.
Thinking I was alone, made me feel safe to quickly begin to stroll away along the path, throwing the caution I had had all evening to the wind.
Suddenly I froze in step.
I had caught the unmistakable sight of a lady's sparkly jewels as she was walking through the gardens to the left of my path.
I was not out here alone?
And I could not believe lady would not be out here alone either.
I snuck up, cloaked by the shadows of the trees, to get a better look
Shocked I saw it was “Nancy”, out of her, apparently alone.
I watched “Nancy” as she moved about. My mind traveled into the realms of speculation.
What if my young friend had indeed been wearing jewels worth £75,000?
And I find her like this, vulnerably alone.
Would I be tempted to break character, and ….
I shook my head. I would probably not. Especially now that I knew her father was a policeman of some sort.
But someone who did not know her father was a “copper”, and perhaps thought the diamonds she was were real… well they may not feel the same about letting her be.
Suddenly a rabbit jumped from the judge, startling both of us. I see her have a gasp, hand shooting up to her chest.
As her jewels flickered in a mad frenzy, a thought popped in my head, making me grin with expectations.
“Time to give “Nancy” a taste of my games. I thought wickedly. “
I snuck up behind her, and placing my hands over her eyes, pulled her soft figure back up against my own.
“ Hello, Samantha, fancy meeting you here.”
“Raffles!” She blurted with relief…
I pulled my hands away, allowing them the liberty to feel through her hair, examining also her earrings, feeling along the hinged clasps to get a feel for what I was about to do...
I then stepped back, as she, with a deep sigh of relief, quickly turned around.
“Not playing a game alone, are ye Lass?” I asked, looking down into her pretty green eyes.
“No.” She said shaking her head, hair flying…
I smiled, placing my hands inside my pockets, as I watched her with interest.
She giggled while trying to lecture me…” you gave me quite the start sir. “
He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it so I was looking up into his eyes.
“Stand still,” I commanded and moved around behind her.
“Good thing I didn’t do what first popped into my devious mind...
I felt his knuckle go into my back…
”Stick ‘ em up miss .”
“Good thing you didn’t I would have peed myself... I giggled.
“Raffles” chuckled:
“Stay in character miss .” Was what I heard from behind me
I raised them up, imagining like I was actually being held up. My heart began to race again with a feeling of delicious danger as I spoke.
“What do you want from me?”
Raffles, still holding his knuckle into my back …reached out his other hand with an open palm as he spoke.
”Put your hands down, I’ve taken a fancy to that bracelet of yours. So please hand it over. “
I shivered, saying smartly. “I don’t believe a real thief would say please …”
My friend “Raffles” responded.
“Would my real victim ask that? Try a different tack.”
Trembling again, with delicious delight. I played along.
“No sir, not my bracelet, anything but that …”
“That’s better, a bit of heartfelt pleading can never heart.
After a second the hand withdrew.
Raffles laughed amiably…
“Ok miss, keep your bracelet then. “
He chuckled from behind, removing his knuckle….
“It was only a thought I had when I saw you out here walking alone, remembering the story of the games you play with your brother, did I do ok?”.
“Smashing .” I giggled gleefully “Spot on.”
She put my hands down to my sides as I placed a hand on her smooth satin-covered shoulder and ran it down her satin blouse’s sleeve as I came back around to face her.
“All kidding aside, you really shouldn’t be out here alone “Nancy” someone less inviting as me may have been about. And I don’t mean your brother let’s see you back safe Lass.”
I nodded.
He lifted my hand and pulled my back to him. Coddling along against his warm figure, Raffles led me back along the path to the stairway.
“I’ll be leaving you here “Nancy” I was on my way home.
I looked up into his face. “it was fun meeting you, sorry you have to go. “
“So am I Lass.”
As I looked down in her upturned face I realized by the look in her eyes, that I had her lulled into such a state of complacency that I found myself unable to control any longer my thieving impulse.
Police parent or not, those earrings “Nancy” was wearing deserved to be plucked.
My fingers began to curl as I pulled her to me, with wicked intent…
We for the second time, hugged goodbye, a deeply fulfilling embrace it was by all standards, as well as presenting a perfect opportunity to set myself in position.
We broke apart and I tickled my fingers up her smooth satin-clad sides, then lifted her hair high up over her head.
I let her hair back down, letting its silken strands spill over my fingers fingers
She giggled as it tickled. My fingers reached her dangling, desirable earrings.
I spoke, my eyes locked in hers, my fingers ready…
“A Very pretty one you are, and don’t ever let anyone say differently.”
I felt her squirm with excitement, her chin up, looking deep within my eyes.
I took the opportunity given me to curl my fingers around her old-fashioned hinged clasped earrings. I gently applied pressure to the backside of the hinges and in unison slipped off both danglers from her earlobes. As her shivering figure greatly aided my endeavor.
I let my hands drop to my vest pocket as I watched her shoulder-length red hair fall back into place, covering my dirty deed.
£2200
I had been holding my breath. For this type of maneuver was as tricky as stealing the diamond collar from around the neck of a sleeping Persian cat without waking her. “Nancy”, relishing in my praise, never felt a prick as I had taken them from her ears.
Releasing my breath I took a step back complimenting that her hair was much prettier when down.
As she looked up at me with those doe wide adult-looking mascara brushed eyes, I felt a flicker of unease over filching her earrings.
She suddenly propelled herself again in my arms and gave me a very smothering, very long hug.
We broke apart.
“Go now, you before I change my mind about playing games.”
I let her go with a chuckle, holding my ground as I watched her pretty green satin party dress swishing merrily along with her figure.
She started up the stairs, then stopping raised up her hands.
I froze, then saw she was merely blowing me a kiss.
Pulling my hands from my vest pocket as I deposited her earrings, I pretended to catch her kiss and added it to my collection.
“My second this evening,” I said mysteriously…
Then turning away, I went off down along the path.
Quickly reaching my car, I opened a secret compartment inside the boot, emptied my pockets of the purloined jewels, and stashed them safely away.
Then hopping in on the right, I fired the engine to life and drove away in the opposite direction.
Addendum
Several weeks after securely hiding the over £188,000 in jewels I had gotten away with, I was flabbergasted to read in their local paper that the robbery was believed to have been committed by a gang of thieves. With none of the descriptions given really matched mine...
Probably not so shocking was the statement giving the total value of the stolen jewellery, as reported to the insurance agencies from the 0ver 30 females claiming to be victims, coming in to a bit over...
£325,000!
To Read the story from ‘Nancy Drew’s “ Perspective
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Wandering the marina of picturesque Sausalito, I found this boater's line nicely coiled and secured around a mooring cleat. Decorative coiling is called 'cheesing' and this is a small Flemish coil or flake.
The Selfie Tour. On Belgium derps with Dursty, Pezar and Martin. Many selfies, lots of cool locations. Good times.
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Summer pics from around Niagara.
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