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© Beth Retro 2009
-Not to be used anywhere without written consent.
From "Letters to a young poet" by Rilke.
"Have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart.
Try to cherish the questions themselves, like closed rooms and books written
in a strange tongue. Do not search now for the answers which you cannot be given because you could not live them.
It is a matter of living everything.
LIVE THE QUESTIONS NOW.
Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day,
live right into the answer".
298/365
Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.
The above depiction appeared on the cover of True Detective June 1953 Vol. 59 No. 2
this website.
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A little nighttime fun at old wool mill ruins.
In 1867 land was purchased by two brothers from an adjacent farm where they established the mill. The stone walls were 2.5 feet thick & utilizing the the flow of nearby rapids on the large river they built a raceway. Each spring farmers would bring there sheep to the river alongside the mill to clean them before they were sheared as clean wool fetched a higher price. The wool was often then spun into yarn & woven into blankets. The mill closed in 1898 when a larger modernized mills were already in operation.
The new owners had the idea of converting the Mill into a hotel. After a considerable amount of money was invested they realized it wasn't a profitable endeavor & the mill was sold & modernized & converted into a summer residence. It contained 13 bedrooms, 2 dining rooms, a smaller, private dining room, a larger kitchen, 4 washrooms & a few public rooms. In 1941 a guest was victim of a homicide which to this day has been unsolved.
The residence was enjoyed until 1944 when CP Rail advised the owner of a new rail line that would essentially cut off access to it by crossing the only access road. After attempts in court to keep the road open, all bids failed. The residence was eventually purchased by the township & has remained unused ever since.
In the popular iconography of Hanuman having to see him in a darker shade of green is a mystery that stands unsolved for me. Perhaps the temple minders would be able to shed some light.
Hanuman is shown here carrying Ram and Lakshman on his shoulders and the epic from Ramayana epitomises that it is not strength alone that is important but it has to be coupled with responsibility and devotion.
Bangalore can be quite a cluster of Hindu temples specially in areas where there is sizable Tamil influence and small temples can be seen on roadsides and squares dedicated to different Gods of the Hindu pantheon. Right next to this temple is another on of Shiva or Parvathy.
Next time I am going to Commercial Street which used to be the most happening shopping district of Bangalore I will stop by and ask the priest as to why the color green.
_DSC5166 nef
Image of “Angie” first appeared : Best true detective cover July 1962
The story of the racket dames behind the sensational Park Avenue Jewel Robberies
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This is a link to a You Tube Video of a thief not unlike our Angie.
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Title: Now, if only she could find where that darling young miss, the one so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too?
Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual facts as originally recorded. Some names, times, places and some facts have been altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 1933
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Place: Resolution Ball - Baltimore (original incarnation)
Time: Evening, through early morning, of the dance
Story line:
Angie grinned, stowing away the emerald bracelet, as she smugly watched the police dragging away the struggling girl. Lit cigarette dangling from a corner of her lip; Angie smirked wickedly to herself as Ginny frantically tried to plead her innocence.
**
One of the coppers had her by the wrists; the other tried gripping her waist, finding it slippery by the satiny gown she was wearing. Ginny was pleading, it was not me, I don’t know how it got there, please let me go, my emeralds, my bracelet… its…its..I gone! I must find it, shrieked the struggling girl. Angie just listened to the girl, ginning; Ginny’s tearful words, spoken in her brash nasally east ender accent, wasn’t helping her cause with the pre-judgmental coppers.
One of them snarled loudly into her ear, ere ,you aint the kind to wear emeralds sister, we’ve got your number, it was her diamonds youse was after.
Actually, she had, Angie admitted to herself wickedly. Yes, dear Ginny had been wearing an emerald bracelet, the one Angie now had tucked securely away. Nevertheless, she chose not to enlighten the harness bulls on the matter, and smugly watched as the small group disappeared through the entrance, heading down to the eastside patrol car waiting at the street, as she let a wisp of cigarette smoke curl upwards from her sneering lips.
**
So it was now, with the emeralds safely tucked away, that Angie turned he back to the main door to watch down the long corridor as she continued puffing on her victory smoke. At the end of the hallway was the main entrance to the cavernous Ballroom where all action had all taken place leading up to poor Ginny’s arrest.
With a suspect now in custody, and two less security bulls, Angie was free to slip back in amongst the wealthy guests in attendance at the ball. Now, if only she could find where that darling young miss, the one so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too! She shivered deliciously at the mere thought of it. However, she decided to take her time finishing her cigarette, give things ample time to cool down, as she marveled at the opulence that seemed to bleed from every square inch of the Baltimore Palace this evening.
How Angie savored attending events held here, and visited the Baltimore area Ballroom several times whenever she was in town on “business”. The lighting, modern for the day, seemed to coax any piece of jewelry to sparkle. Making it ever so easy to focus on even the smallest (and sometimes most expensive) piece a fashionably dressed female would be wearing.
**
For you see, Angie was a master pickpocket, who, with the discovery and subsequent aid of a pamphlet written in the early 1800’s, was able to take her game to the next, more profitable level...
See Album: Angie Picks Chicago for the story of how she discovered the phamplette.
Entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip by “Gaston Monescu, 1826”, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets of the time, Including whole chapters on successful “Methodes” of relieving a well-dressed lady of her” jeweles”.
Angie had nimbly crafted a new art form of relieving wealthy women and rich girls of their valuable jewelry. She performed this feat by combining the tactics of an illusionist, with the delicate touch of “The Dip” ; Employing this method to nick the fiery sparklers while still warm from the unwary, usually be-gowned , figures ostentatiously displaying them!
**
Angie began to reflect on how the ballroom had looked when she had first entered some three hours previously. She had been eagerly anticipating the opportunities in store for her inside, and she was not disappointed in the very least. The place was packed wall to wall with guests dressed in their dapper nines for the annual event.
Like a kid in a candy shop, Angie had eagerly looked over the crowd, admiring the shiny, flowing gowns the female guests were wearing. Selecting and keenly observing dresses made of the richest, most form fitting material, for by long experience, these women wearing them would bring the most profit. By employing this method to narrow the field of selections, Angie was able to quickly to pinpoint on a piece of jewelry, make her move, and be gone before giving any security patrolling the area a chance to recognize her for what she was. It sometimes was as easy as taking candy from a baby, or as Angie like to imagine it, relieving a satin and lace clad innocent of her “silver spoon”
Angie than eagerly looked over the jewels of those she had chosen, vividly glittering their colourful joy at being brought out of the vault and worn for this evening’s festivities. She had been quite hard pressed to make a selection, so for the first 30 minutes or so, Angie just mingled about, following her whimsy.
Then she spotted Olivia. Elegant in a long slick purple gown of luxurious silk that flowed and moved tightly along her shapely figure as she flitted about, presenting the very picture of a tickle thief’s dream ( see addendum rr).. Young, flighty and loaded with beckoning diamonds, Angie began to stalk her in ever decreasing circles, hunting her slowly, deliberately, much as a snake in the grass would a tiny unsuspecting mouse. However, all too soon, Angie realized that this mouse was being watched over by someone else, like a hawk.
The hawks name was Ginny. Lower east end, rough as her cousin Olivia was polished, awkward in one of her cousins borrowed long satin gowns, she watched protectively over her mingling cousin from the sidelines, totally out of her element, ill-fitting right down to the only jewelry she wore, a shimmering elegant emerald bracelet that was obviously borrowed( probably from Olivia) . Angie weighed the consequences of an attempt on Olivia’s diamonds, deciding that there was plenty of less guarded prey, and so Angie reluctantly decided to let go of the scent.
**
It was not much later that Angie, from her new perch at one of the twin bars that lined opposite sides of the room, found herself eyeing a most interesting subject. She rose and began trailing behind the swishing gown of her new prospect. The fine taffeta gown was spilling down along the still voluptuous, if not a little pudgy, figure of an older, matronly looking lady with long hair of faded gold. Her longish hair was home to a glittering Diamond Head band, from which shimmering strings of diamonds were entertained in her still silky soft hair.
The lady stopped to chat with two other finely decked out women, giving Angie a chance to circle and leisurely eyeball, head to foot, these unsuspecting ladies baubles. Angie felt her heart rate quicken with delight at what she saw.. Now, older women could be a little bit trickier since they were more likely to notice quicker the disappearance of often worn jewelry, as opposed to younger ladies or girls were not yet used to wearing fine jewelry adorning their squirming figures. Nevertheless, Angie spied something that should even the playing field a bit, so to speak, making this wealthy lady a fairly less risky prospect…
Now, Monescu‘s pamphlet had a little side Chapter on how ladies would sooner think jewels were lost as to believe they had been stolen from them (pickpockets only go after wallets and hankies, my dear, everyone knows that!) . To this end, losing one of a pair, like an earring, or clips, is a safe bet, especially if one desires to tempt fate and remain in the area to try for a second piece, like the brooch one of her friends was wearing.
And the lady Angie was ogling was wearing a pair of twin diamond and ruby clips, one on each side of the wide shiny sash that encircled her waist. Taking one of her jeweled clips should be as easy as slipping candy away from the side of a silken clad baby. Which in a fashion, Angie had actually done, once long ago, coming across a small group of wedding attired young girls playing alone at a playground, whose chaperones had obligingly wandered off for a bit. But, when Angie had left the chirpy little group to continue their game of (appropriately enough) cops n robbers, It had definitely not been the gullible young ladies candy that walked off along with her!
(See album, Angie at play, for the full story)
Angie’s full attention was now focused on the two wave shaped clips as the pair fired glittering salvos of flickering rainbow-like colures with each elegant movement their mistress made. Patiently Angie stalked from a distance, awaiting her chance. It came soon enough, when the Hors d’oeuvres were put out, and the clips, along with their mistress, headed with the other multitudes of guests to the long banquet tables. As they formed a line, Angie managed to wedge herself in between the lines, effectively cutting off her victim, who bumped against Angie.
Angie’s left hand slipped in and snaked along the satin sash, feeling once again the deliciously tingling ling chill she always experienced when her fingers first rubbed against the warm scintillating material of a luscious gown as she dipped in to steal the selected jewel.. This time was no different as her slender fingers located the first of the clips ; lifting it up, and nimbly flicked open the clasp( it was amazing how jewelers skimped on clasps when making upper end jewels), at the same time her right hand slithered up the slick taffeta backside of her victims gown. Reaching underneath an armpit, her fingernails dug in, distracting her victim as to the nefarious activity happening at her waist. The lady was knocked slightly off balance, and anyone else who saw the pair had their eyes focused their faces, and not on any handiwork occurring with the hands below sight.
Angie apologized profusely in her softest most innocent voice. Petting down the ladies backside as she did so with her right hand, while her left plucked the clip from her sash and palmed the jewel and slipped behind her back. It was over in seconds, merely someone trying to cut the line, and Angie made her escaped receiving a few clucks of the tongue from one of the ladies’ friend as the lady caught up to them. Angie just smiled at them winningly, her hand still behind her back. As she smiled, Angie slipped the diamond clip down inside her sash before turning away and heading off.
It had all come off quite easily, and Angie was congratulating herself, when suddenly a voice behind her pronounced, quite loud and clear, oh my gwad Ceclia, you’ve lost a brooch. Diamond clip Angie correctly the lady silently to herself. She did not turn, but kept on moving, even slowing her pace a bit. From the same area she heard Celica gasp. Me clip, I’ve lost one of me diamond clips! it was here a minute ago, remember Maud, you was admiring them, weren’t you? Angie could imagine from what actions the lady in the elegant taffeta gown was taking now that she had discovered her loss, security was probably hoofing their way over, Angie had to think quickly.
Not losing any of her demeanor, Angie turned causally around to watch with the rest of the nearby group as the lady was showing her sash and the remaining clip to a couple of her friends. Angie spied a brace uniformed bulls approaching. She casually turned and headed across the room, her mind whirling. she knew that the pricy clip was too hot to hold onto. She had slowly looked around as she sauntered away from the scene. Then, spotting one of the many Ladies powder rooms scattered around, she ducked into it. Angie knew from past experiences ( and a few hints from Monescu‘s phamplett) that rooms such as these had a plethora of hiding places to let “hot items” cool down..
She entered the room, the noise dying out as the door closed. She was alone, wait, not nearly, the room had one other occupant. Ginny was at the sink, washing her face, the bored look she had worn all evening now was replaced by deep thoughts, forlorn ones by the looks of it. On the fly Angie coolly devised a plan.
She walked up behind the unwary, unnoticing, fetchingly clad Ginny, and wrapped her arms round her, hugging, as she called out, Maude dear, I haven’t seen you in ages. Ginny was uncomfortably flabbergasted, and Angie felt her warm figure stiffen. She turned and Angie apologized, I am so sorry , I totally mistook you for someone else. I should have known better, Maude is not nearly as pretty .As she spoke, Angies’ fingers touched and prodded the startled girl, not allowing her to collect her wits. If Angie was hoping for a smile, she didn’t get it,. Streetwise Ginny looked at Angie hard, and scolded the thief for scaring the beezusses out of her. In a Huff Ginny left, Angie watched as Ginny’s soft gown curled around the closing door before whipping out of.
She was smiling to herself, for as she had hugged Ginny, she had deposited the clip in the girls green velvet purse that was laying open on the vanity. She had also in the process, tit for tat, whisked off the emeralds from around the flustered Ginny’s satin gloved wrist.
Not wasting any time Angie headed down the hallway where she secreted the bracelet in a nearby ash can, slipping it underneath the ½ ash filled bowl. Angie than reentered the ballroom, and went up to the orchestra’s conductor and requested a couple of waltzes, ones she knew were lengthy.
She then look around to make sure that she had all the principle players in her plot in sight. She spied Ginny talking with her cousin Olivia, and Celia was still searching the floor by the banquet tables. Now Maude , Maude took a little doing, but Angie spotted her chatting with a security cop. Great Angie thought, all I need to do is wait for it. “It” soon became apparent , was the start of one of the slow waltzes, and sure enough, Olivia was almost immediately scooped up and led off to the dance floor, leaving poor Ginny alone, as she had been most of the evening. Her hard disposition more than enough to keep any potential suitors at bay.
Angie immediately sought out Maude, a short mousey woman in a faded velvet gown wearing loads of gold chains and bangles. Angie caught her ear; feeding her a story about what she saw being placed in a certain green velvet purse. Maude’s eyes darted to where Ginny stood along a wall, and Angie saw a delicious gleam flare up in mousey Maude’s semi -be speckled green eyes.
**
Angie than serenely slipped back, regaining her barstool perch and waited as the developments unfolded. Maude went to the copper she had been chatting up, and they both went to Celica. The copped grabbed a partner and the group surrounded poor Ginny. Angie kept one eye on the, and the other on Olivia, who was dancing on the far side of the room, blissfully unaware of the clamor on the far wall, that was surrounding her hapless cousin Ginny.
Angie saw that, upon discovering what she had in her purse, they were going to arrest her and escort Ginny off the premises, exactly as Angie had planned! Angie slipped from her stool, and headed out to the lobby to await the final act in Ginny’s tragedy. Angie concealed herself in the hidden alcove, behind the small ash can where she had stashed the emerald bracelet. Just in time to witness the poor girl, struggling between the two security types, and being forcibly escorting her out. When she was sure no suspicion was coming her way, Angie lit a victory smoke, and retrieved the emeralds, stowing them away as she looked back upon the protesting Ginny, struggling as she was being ushered out the door to the waiting patrol car on the street below.
**
Now, Angie only had to find where that darling young Olivia, so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too! With a suspect now in custody, and two less security bulls, Angie was free to slip back in amongst the wealthy guests in attendance at the ball. Good thing old Angie girl was a tough cookie, she contemplated, congratulating herself over not losing her head and coming out in roses, as happy with herself, she watched down the hallway. She was in no hurry; haste makes waste after all, so Angie savored her thoughts as she waited patiently to continue her mischievous habits.
Her thoughts now were trained fully on the unsuspecting, capriciously flighty , Olivia, and her dazzling diamonds.
In her minds eye she relished over several scenarios that could develop, and how to use them to her advantage, Angie exciting herself so much that she held the cigarette for a minute to lick her lips over them…
She imagined Olivia darting about, as she looked for her missing cousin, imagining, a well-placed foot on the hemline of a swirling long purple silk gown, which could yield some marvelous results.
Or perhaps Olivia could use some help looking for her cousin. Angie would then be able to discreetly help herself to some of the enticingly slippery-gowned Olivia’s dainty, but expensively fiery, diamond jewelry.
Alternatively, and best of all, and it is here where the almost purring Angie licked her lips, was a most scintillating scenario…
Angie could explain what had happened and offer to share a cab downtown with her new friend. Angie would comfort the worrying, sobbing (brought on by how Angie would describe what had happened) girl riding alongside her in the back of the bouncing cab. Angie would comfortingly stroke the warm figure encased in the richly slick, scrumptiously smooth silky gown, as she cooed words of encouragement in Olivia’s ears, Angie’s lips touching the diamond earrings dripping down from their lobes.
Then she would let Olivia go inside alone, as not to cause her cousin any further embarrassment. Then Angie would watch as Olivia hurried away, admiring the flow of her shiny gown in the light from the entranceways lamps ,and while also basking in the provocative sparkle of any remaining diamonds that Angie had not managed to spirit away during the ride down to the police station.
Angie shivered happily, as she gave one final drag on her cigarette and bent down to place it in the ash bin.
Suddenly Angie’s senses perked up, and she raised her head, shooting her gaze down the long corridor..
A lady was leaving the ballroom, unescorted, heading down the long hallway to the exit. She could tell by the quality of the long slinky gown that fell in ruffles from the hem of the long black mink she wore, and by the rings glittering from the hand that held the thick mink, that this specimen was well worth some effort. Angie rose, not yet noticed by the fur encased broad. One for the road, Angie thought to herself, bemused. The lady kept looking back, like she did not really want to leave and was afraid she would miss something exciting. That fact, along with the narrowness of the passage made for an excellent opportunity… A well place foot, and expertly placed bump, a few seconds of confusion, and the lady and Angie would part company, and Angie would have parted something else from the broad, and be a richer woman for it.
It was a formula that Angie had perfected and executed many profitable times. As a matter of fact, it had only been a few days prior that a young daughter, quite fetchingly (and targetable) in a pretty lavender satin and lace gown, ornamented regally with pearls and a flashy blue rhinestone tiara, had quite literally, but not accidentally, come under foot. Allowing Angie the opportunity to artfully nick the girl’s fine strand of gleaming white pearls (with a sapphire gemmed drop!) that had obligingly bounced up into Angie’s waiting fingers.
Angie now watched this rich lady headed towards her, with the very same thoughts in mind. But she needed to know what jewels the broad had hidden under that pricey mink. As the lady came close Angie tried to “will” her to open up. “C’mon honey, its warm, you must be burning up in that pelt, show mama what you got.” But the broad did not obligingly peel back the mink for Angie, and Angie would never know what riches may have been in the cupboard, or perhaps it had been bare, though Angie seriously doubted it. The lady reached her, shooting Angie a nervous smile. Angie smiled back, wondering if the lad realized how close she had come to being relieved of one of her fancy trinkets.
As the woman passed by, Angie watched her backside, musing to herself, Fine, I’ll just have to settle for Olivia. Angie then started down the long deserted corridor with a brisk walk, her satin dress bouncing in rhythm.
**
Reaching the Ballroom proper, Angie stopped and gave the room a vigilant scan for security, and as she had figured, it definitely had loosened up. She then searched in earnest for the young miss clad in her expensive purple silk “tickling gown”( see addendum rr). The naïve young thing had been ever so carelessly displaying those delectably exquisite diamonds of hers with such reckless abandon that it would be a wonder if she still possessed all of them. It will be a wonder if she still does after meeting me, Angie mused. She almost was purring in anticipation as she thought about those diamonds, especially the long necklace and the way it had flung from side to side as the girl had walked past Angie the first time that evening(and several more since). Angie envisioned the diamonded box clasp at the back of her bare neck (long hair was high in a bun) that held the necklace around her neck, for now! She hoped that Olivia had not removed her shiny hairpiece to let her long hair down, Angie prayed, it would make things so much the easier.
As Angie thought about this she slowly edged her way along the wall, dodging in and out amongst the happily chatting guest, constantly on the lookout for Olivia.
Angie was suddenly, unexpectedly blindsided from behind as something incredibly soft, slickly bumped up against her back. Like a cat, she kept her feet and whirled around in time to catch a handful of pure heaven in the form of one of the be- gowned young “princesses” that seemed to be everywhere this gay evening. She found herself nose to eye with a young miss, resplendent in a long slippery gown as black as ink, and as soft as young chinchilla. The sleek gown literally poured tightly down along her perked figure to the floor, covering over her shiny black high heels. The colour of night that was her gown was broken only by the whiteness of her bare shoulders and neck, and by an exquisitely large, leaf like brooch of clear diamond banquets that covered her right side at least 8 inches above and below her slender waistline.
The young “princess” giggled nervously as she profusely apologized over her “silliness” at tripping over her own gown as she had stepped backwards. Angie oozed kindness as she spoke soothingly to the girl, watching her melt like putty in Angie’s light fingered hands. As Angie spoke calmingly to the girl, her eyes were indiscreetly soaking up the dazzling white diamond necklace that surrounded the nervous girl’s bare white throat that was now eye level to Angie. .Angie looked down at the girls gloved hand resting upon her full bosom , admiring the softness of the satin gloves (dyed to match her gown) that stretched up past her elbows, drooling secretly over the enormous cocktail ring that graced one of her fingers. The princess raised up her hands, giving them to Angie, who took up the satin clad hands, holding them as tightly as she was holding the girls gaze, before letting the girl slowly slip them from her firm grasp., .
The girls eyes finally broke away, and Angie smiled exuberantly, giving the girl an enveloping hug to show there were no hard feelings, letting her hands slip ever so gingerly down to grasp the girl by the waist, giving her a squeeze. She then let the young thing slip out, free to go on her way, as Angie turned and did likewise. As Angie sauntered off, she happily thought that it was sometimes funny how occasionally, when least expected, one gets very lucky. As she thought this, she moved her clenched fist to the top of her dress. Pulling the dress out, she dropped down her cleavage the rather large, expensively glittering , diamond brooch she had so carefully slipped from the rather ditsy young ”princess” black satin clad waist. The damsel had not so much felt a prick when Angie had lifted the jewel, snapped the clasp open, and slipped it from her figure as her hands had squeezed her scintillatingly soft waist. She now felt it wonderfully slip down, joining Ginny’s purloined bracelet already resting securely there. Angie stole a careful look back over her shoulder.
The clueless young” Princess” was now happily dancing away with a tuxedoed young man. Her handsome partner, with a neatly trimmed beard, had one white gloved hand holding up her hand in black satin, the enormous cocktail ring shining out like some richly coloured beacon ; the other white gloved hand lay upon her back, mere inches away from the simple hook in eye clasp of the necklace of white diamonds. Angie drooled, how she would have liked to have had her hands in either of the positions that the man’s were now laid. Taking the ring and necklace would have been a piece of cake. Angie did sometimes secretly envy men, who could get close to jewel-laden ladies in ways that Angie could not! Angie imagined these wicked thoughts to herself as she allowed herself to be mesmerized by the blaze of fiery diamonds that for the time being, were still wrapped around the “princess’s” slender white throat.
Angie was not worried about the young lady raising a squawk over a missing brooch. Clumsy Dames like her were used to having jewelry misplaced. Angie wondered if they ever realized how many times those jewels were not misplaced, but stolen by light fingered thieves who, like Angie, knew all too well how to read the signs and reap the rewards. If only she had had time to be better prepared, she sighed, turning her attention reluctantly away from the diamonds.
Angie moved off, filled with the confidence that the tides of her fortune had turned for the better. Rounding a corner Angie spied Celia off to one side, and toyed with the idea of slipping off her remaining diamond clip now that Maud was still chatting up one of the Guards (another one out of commission!) Then, for a split second, on the other side of the room, she saw the silky wisp of purple that singled out her prey. Now, down to business she said, licking her lips. With a cat like gleam in her eyes, she swiftly stole into the crowd of dancing couples. Soon she was lost to sight, swept up in a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns.
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Addendum rr (excerpted from :Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip by “Gaston Monescu, 1826”)
A perfect tickle thief setup, as Angie renamed it, was a ploy for use on a lady “waering a long gown or skirtes” that was easily trip able, when a foot stepped on it from behind, sometimes added with a soft nudge, sending the wearer tumbling. Ones fingers, in the process of steading or helping would glide(tickling) over the material ( the sleeker the better) to reach and pluck free the fair ladies’ targeted bauble.
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Interested in reading more about the shenanigans of Angie?
Then Check out the following albums:
Angie Picks Chicago
Angie being Receptive
Angie being chartable
Angie at Play
Angie Trick Or Treat( coming soon)
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Where the Jewels Are.
A Prequel to
“An Odyssey Less Taken “ (Tallie)
An Escapade in 3 Acts…
Excerpts:
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Act 1
The Mustard Seed is planted
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A couple is getting ready to leave for an apparently Fancy Dress Affair:
The wife cascades down the stairs swirling her silk dress for to catch her husband’s eye, which she does.
Blimey Bess, did you leave anything in ur Jewelry Casket, he chides with a satisfied smirk.
Casket, Luv? Really? I keep telling you what a morbid term that is, she scolds him , while she smiles radiantly ; fetchingly placing a hand to her husband’s cheek, then straightening the black bow tie of his tux.
Don’t be snide, I know you like it when I dress. Besides it’s not often we get to hob nob with near royalty. Beth said in justification of herself driving to the occasion dressed to the nines.
But Beth, Calling it a casket is an old term, and her husband starts to explain (not for the first time) the origin of the phrase ”jewele casket”
Hush child, Beth simpers, placing a finger to his lips, with a very becoming look in her eyes, save it for the students. She turns away and he slaps her lovingly upon her posterior. She giggles and heads back to the stairs.
The doorbell rings.
Beth stops and turns, looking at the door. Could you get that dear, looks like a postal package. I have to go upstairs to finish my hair, and to bury my casket, you old toad she tosses at him, making no attempt to hide in her voice the with undying affection she has for her husband, the love of her life.
He obediently goes to the door, where a man in uniform can be seen through the window, waiting with a package.
He turns, a lump rising in his throat as he eyeballs his pretty ( to him) wife Bess. The main reason is too catch another look at the pretty party dress swishing along her withdrawing figure ,but he also throws a teasing retort at her retreating back, . besides, casket It what me Mum called it luv…..
Turning away, he goes to open the door.
End Act 1
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Act 2
The Trolley Cometh
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Up on a hummock a large stone manor sits, dominating the landscape below.
A proper butler opens the Manor’s double doors and a stream of well gowned, ladies pour out. The many jewels they are wearing sparkling like some sort of jewel filled waterfall as they move heading down to where a quite ornate Trolley awaits them.
The whispering rustle of high end satin and the erupting glitter of colourfully flickering tiffany quality jewels, lighting up the dreary early morning as female members of the wedding party descend.
The bride is the last to come out into the early morning, stopping to survey the activity below , ever so a royal highness looking down on her subjects.
It was her idea to have her brides maids be driven out to her parents country estate before the dress rehearsal and have a photo grapher take shots of her party at various locations. Since the Groom and his Groomsmen were not allowed, by custom, to view the gowned bride before the ceremony, they were of course not invited. Nor was anyone else outside herself, the bridal party and the photo grapher. The rehearsal and dinner were to take place later that afternoon, and the bride and her party would be changing at the country estate. Towards that means they had already placed cases aboard the trolley containing their evening clothes and everyday jewelry that they would wear for the evenings festivities..
She preferred to be in control off all aspects of the situation. Needless to say, her wedding planner, waiting at the stone cathedral, had developed a migraine over the whole affair.
After a couple of group shots are arranged in front of the elegant trolley, the party is herded aboard by the tuxedoed trolley driver. He has their schedule to keep. He is helped by his pretty blonde wife, herself dressed shimmering, sparkling, as she expertly moves (herds?) the elegant ladies , escorting them cheerfully to their seats.
And with a lurch of the trolley on the old private road, the entire ultra-wealthy group set off on their pre nuptial adventure.
End Act 2
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The connection between acts 1 & 2, for those who haven’t figured it out, will be revealed in act 3.
Please comment if you’re going to stay tuned for the outcome
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This would be the 3rd and possibly final installment of the trilogy…..If you are interested in reading the storyline complete you may find it enlightening to visit Acts 1 and 2 (respectively) before proceeding any further.
Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.
Act 3(?)
After the Harvest
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The inspector arrives in his rather jaunty sports auto. He emerges with his Detective Sargent, approaching a waiting constable.
The constable’s partner, Archie, is inside with the police matron.
What do we have Constable? The inspector asks quizzically.
Apparently we have a husband and wife teem who own and drive a private rental trolley, that then decides to waylay and rob the entire wedding party they were hired to ferry about.
Way out here, in the middle of nowhere, Constable?
Appears they were going to the Brides summer home to be photographed. The trolley turned down the path to this old deserted manor where they were told there was engine trouble.
And they were robbed, by the driver and his wife you say Constable?
Them, and two others waiting.
4 robbers then,
Who called it in Constable?
Received an anonymous tip
And just what were they robbed of, Constable? The inspector asked, almost wearily.
Stripped of everything down to their bloody knickers, the lot of them. Then handcuffed and left.
Language Mate, the inspector chided his constable, looking at his Sargent, taking this all down?
Detective Sargent nods
Now, he said turning back to the Constable, Just why do you suppose they stripped them of their clothes.
The gowns were worth L3000 pounds each, real emeralds, the brides was worth double that, with real diamonds
So they were robbed for their expensive clothes, then eh Sargent, the inspector leered.
No Sir that was not all the lot were after.
The Bride was wearing diamond jewelry worth L100,000 pounds easy, the rest of the girls were wearing matching emeralds sets that the bride paid L32,000 pounds each.
Each, The inspector arched an eyebrow.
Each of the Bridesmaids, inspector, answered the ridden constable.
That’s a great amount of information constable. Just how did you acquire it.
The bride sir, she won’t stop squawking on about it. answered the Constable
Careful how you talk about your betters, constable, the inspector winked at him.
I’m sure the young lady in question has every right to squawk.
So let me get this straight constable, a bridal party was Shanghaied and robbed of their possessions by their trolley driver, his wife and two other associates. Then someone cordially calls the station to let us in on the joke?
Right sir, no joke though
Then why did they leave their trolley here, for evidence against them?
Asked the Inspector, before turning to his Detective Sargent.
Sergeant. send a man down to the drivers abode, the information should be acquired from the registration from the plates they so handily left.
The Constable cleared his throat, actually my partner Archie already called it in Sir.
The inspector raised an eyebrow, Glad to see someone is on the ball.
The police radio crackles, the constable goes to answer it.
He comes back, standing smartly at attention.
Just received a call, they found the husband and wife tied up in their basement.
Apparently two men posing as a postal worker and driver held them up.
The ones who robbed the bride and her party? Constable?
No sir, apparently the two who brought them here were imposters.
The real uns were held them up at gunpoint, made to strip to their underthings and tied up.
Then Two others, man and woman, took the Trolly to the Manor to “pick up” the Bride and her Bridesmaids.
Has a statement been taken? Yes sir, but there is not much.
Thieves were disguised as postal workers. House was ransacked, safe looted, wife jewel case cleaned out, the usual.
After burgling their manor, the occupants were stripped to their skivvies, trussed up and locked in their basement cannery.
Then a call came in on their telephone, the thieves answered it. After they hung up, the husband heard their phone used to call us, and heard the two thieves leave..
Was anything said by the thieves?
They only overheard the one thing, something one of the postage men said.
Thief posing as one, right constable, don’t want to give anyone a bad rep
Yes sir,
it appears that when the thief - wearing the postman’s costume- answered the phone, he repeated a phrase.
And what would that phrase have been, constable?
Mustard Seed,
Mustard seed? Eh.
Sergeant, the inspector turned to his detective sergeant. That begs the question, why Mustard seed?
The Detective Sergeant mulled it over for a minute. Then offered:
Seed, could be seed money, mustards grow from a small seed into something quite large. This robbery was seed money for something bigger, possibly, sir?
Not bad Sargent, will make an inspector of you yet.
The inspector turns back to the constable, who has had just about enough of his superiors questions.
He is relieved to now hear what the inspector has to say.
Constable, stand pat here while my sergeant and I have a chat with our victims inside,
The inspector turned to his Detective Sergeant :
Let’s get this lot sorted out, and then will we’ll head over and see about the driver and his wife…
The two made their way up towards the decaying deserted manor house.
The Constable, watching them disappear inside, mutters under his breath.
That is an awfully big haul just for seed money. I would be happy with what that lot will get for what they stole. I bet the old man is off target on this one. Thieves probably will be out of the country with the loot and have it pawned in the states by the time he gets done with his questions.
The constable was closer to the truth than he realized…..
Originally the gang planning the heist had meant to carry out the caper then head off to parts unknown with the loot and lay low. During planning the stages of the heist, one of their members infiltrated the group to garner information. Remarks were interestingly overheard by chatting bridesmaids about a lavish affair being staged a fortnight away (only one week after the rehearsal dinner).
From the “seed” planted by that helpful bit of overheard gossip, grew the new job the group was now going to carry out very shortly .
Mustard seed become its code name.
End of Act 3
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In addendum
Now we break away from the crime scene to visit an occurrence that took place some two hours prior to the phone call that alerted the police to the unfortunate incident related above.
The scene: Inside a C. Hoare & Co branch, in a posh end of London..
Two ladies, both, opulently dressed in satins and jewels, their thick fur coats have been carefully hung by a smartly dressed lady porter, nearby, had been seated and served. The pair are now alone in a richly furnished private room of the bank. Wine at hand, they are merrily going through a collection of jewelry glistening from an open safe deposit strongbox brought up from the depths of the banks’ vault.
The fashionable, long haired daughter is half-heartedly trying on one of several jewel encrusted Tiaras…… Her stylish, bobbed haired mother is admiring the sparkle of a diamond waterfall style necklace; the pricy jewels’ matching mates, (earrings and bracelets and brooch) are laid out next to her.
The daughter suddenly lest out a squeal of delight as she spy’s a small sparkling ruby and emerald encrusted diamond cocktail ring , which she grabs and slips on her pinky. She admires the raw, rainbow like fireworks as she moves it under the lights.
Mum, can I? it will go ever so nicely with the gown I’m wearing to Polly’s Soiree.
Hey, that was my Great Aunts , her Mother yelps grasping at the ring. Almost looking like Defoe’s Sunday dressed Moll Flanders snatching at the colourful trinket worn by a young miss, awed by the passing parade of royals.
Unlike that distracted young miss, however, the daughter was able to hold the ring high from the reach of Her mother’s fingertips, giggling as she did so.
Now Millicent, her mother lectured, You know we don’t approve of young Lady Pollyanna’s fancy boy, Raul. He would probably manage a way to slip the ring from off your finger.
Oh, MaMa, , answered Millicent, I’ll be ever so careful, and please don’t you harp on poor Raul. He really is quite a dear, and the pearls were simply lost, nothing more. Let me wear the ring, and I’ll wear whatever jewelry you pick out for me the weekend, Sagely bargained Millicent.
Promise? Her mother asks, relenting in to her daughter’s wishes. It’s just that we don’t you making publicity over getting robbed just before your occasion.
Mum, Millicent says soothingly, nothing will happen to me before my Debs Ball, or occasion as you will call it. She bent over and kissed her mother on the forehead, before going back to her admiration of the pretty ring.
But innocently enough, pretty Millicent has no idea of the prophetic canniness her naively made promise to her mother would soon foretell.
To be continued….
Please see:
Album entitled “Tallie”
For the main story of what the mustard seed turned out to grow into…..
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Looking like the perfect set piece for a John Updike novel, this Watergate-era T-bird is kept in beautiful shape by somebody but never seems to move. The similarly grand house is similarly picturesque but silent.
For 1972 Ford mated the Thunderbird with the Lincoln Continental MKIV, and for the first time since 1951, a Lincoln product shared a great deal with one of the blue oval's more workaday brands. But there wasn't much that was workaday about this generation of Thunderbird - the biggest and longest T-bird ever and one which also aspired to be the plushest. By 1974, with the addition of impact bumpers, the T-bird was over 4,800 lbs. and 225 inches of opulence.
Inside, some of the more detailed and luxurious trim of the prior generation had given way to pieces that were easier and cheaper to produce, but on the surface things seemed just as luxurious. The related Lincoln was, by then, a $10,000+ machine, with the Thunderbird a relative bargain at $7,700 - a sum which could buy a very modest house in 1974.
That price meant that the T-bird, which had kicked off the "Personal/Luxury Car" concept in 1958, was now appreciably more expensive than many of the imitators and competitors that had grown up around it - including direct competitors like the Buick Riviera. Ford even created a smaller luxury coupe based on the Torino - the Torino Elite - to compete with the lower priced (and generally mid-size) competitors like the Chevrolet Monte Carlo.
Although bigger still meant better when this Thunderbird was introduced (and indeed, for an older generation of customers this would never change), the first OPEC crisis put a big dent in this generation of Thunderbird, with sales dropping by more than 30% for 1974 and ultimately leading to the T-bird's downsizing in 1977. Even for big luxury cars, it was hard to argue the practicality of a car this large that was functionally a 2+2 with a limited trunk, and no Ford coupe, save the big LTD 2-door sedan offered through 1978, would ever approach it for size again. Lincoln, on the other hand, would go to the opposite direction and grow the Continental MKIV to 233 inches in length (but a lighter 4,500 lbs.) for 1977.
Both Ford's approach with the smaller T-bird and Lincoln's approach with the bigger MKV were highly successful - but that had more to do with the market's appetite for such cars than the specifics of each design. In 1980, both were downsized, but neither the T-bird nor the Mark ever enjoyed such broad appeal afterward, as coupes declined in favor of SUVs, trucks, and as baby boomers had families, Minivans.
©2016 A. Kwanten.
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Symmetry
A plot in Motion
As excerpted from
“An Odyssey Less Taken “@
Tallie looked into the mirror as the bound Olivia stirred, a self-satisfied smirk lighting up her pretty face. It was time to administer the syringe containing the liquid that would render Olivia unconscious until late the next morning, giving them plenty of time. Olivia would wake thinking she had been the victim of a robbery. She should have no clue that the real reason was a simple piece of paper she had had tucked away inside her gold purse.
A couple of hours earlier:
Tallie had jogged into the upscale inn’s main lobby wearing a black running suite with her long,hair tucked up under a neoprene running cap. Playing the part of a guest who had gone out for exercise, she was also wearing thin gloves, wide wraparound sunglasses, small backpack and listening to music on her I Phone. She took up station in a corner of the inns’ huge lobby, like she was resting, while listening to her music. Ten minutes later, Olivia, whom Tallie had been shadowing, came in. Olivia had been easy to follow. An eye catching figure clad in a gold silk dress and pearls. She was carrying a shiny gold purse, and holding a bag containing a deep purple satin gown. Olivia had headed straight to the elevator, tapped her floor button and disappeared inside.
Tallie spent an uncomfortably anxious 10 minutes deciding what to do. Olivia had not gone to the front desk to take her jewels from the safe. Although her jewelry was not a main part of the plan, Tallie had loftier goals in mind, they did present a rather profitable bonus. Tallie decided to proceed, not wanting to blow the whole operation for a few pretty baubles. She had just risen when the elevator tinged. The doors opened, and Olivia exited into the lobby, still clad in the gold silk, and headed to the desk. There, she had the manager retrieve a black case. Showtime Tallie thought, relieved now that she had waited, watching as Olivia once again left in the elevator. Ten minutes after that, it was time to put the plan in motion. Using her I Phone, Tallie rang Olivia’s room pretending to be a hotel employee. “Someone had found something of yours in the lobby; a manager is on her way up with it.” She hung up not giving Olivia any chance for response.
From then, it had gone like clockwork. Tallie, with delight, watched the shocked look on Olivia’s face when she opened the door expecting a female hotel manager, but instead came face to face with a Taser wielding double of herself, Tallie! Firing the Taser, the shocked girl slumped into Tallies’ welcome arms. Kicking the door shut, Tallie pulled Olivia into the bathroom, where she was then bound and gagged. To make it look like a robbery, Tallie stripped Olivia of her pearl necklace, earrings, bracelets and rings. Then she quickly looted the apartment of any other small, but valuable items. Placing these items, along with the small backpack, into a leather clutch. Tallie then went to the dresser top and opened the black case sitting there. She whistled to herself as she savored the shiny contents. Looking them over, she made a selection, then poured the remaining jewelry into the clutch, glittering explosive fire as they went. She placed the selected diamond jewelry on the bathroom sink. Tallie found Olivia’s gold purse and opened it and pulled the ticket out. Studying, with eager eyes, the prize they had worked so hard to obtain. The small ticket was the key to the whole plot, worth potentially millions.
Carrying the purse to the bathroom, Tallie started to get ready. De bagging Olivia’s purple gown, she slipped it on. It poured over her curvy figure perfectly, as they had known it would. Tallie had switched her calfskin gloves for a pair of Olivia’s satin ones. It was as she had been putting on Olivia’s glittering diamonds that the tied up girl started to stir. Walking over to the groggy eyed girl, Tallie pretended to fumble with the ropes knots, and administered the hypo containing the knockout drops. After checking the heavily sedated Olivia’s Pulse, Tallie finished putting on the unlucky girls jewels.
Tallie admired herself in the mirror, almost not recognizing herself. She had dyed her midnight black hair blonde to match Olivia‘s and had put in blue tinted contacts. The clingy gown fitted snugly in all the right places, tightly outlining her perky breasts and nicely rounded butt. Very nice, thought Tallie beaming. After putting on Olivia’s stiletto heels, Tallie pronounced herself ready. Picking up the purse, she patted it for luck, and went into the bedroom. Tallie called the front desk, asking to have a limo called to pick her up out front, then she also ordered a wakeup call with breakfast for eleven o’clock the next morning. Hanging up the phone, Tallie still had 12 minutes left to kill. She spent it retracing her steps around the entire apartment making sure nothing had been overlooked, and then double checked that Olivia was going to stay out of the picture. When her time was up, Tallie snatched the clutch up from the satin covers of the bed, heavy now with Olivia’s valuables and her running suit and backpack. Tallie left the apartment, closing the door after hanging a do not disturb sign on the lever. Tallie entered the empty elevator , pushed the down button, and focused on the task at hand.
Finally, after seemingly endless months of careful plotting, preparation, rehearsals and dry runs. It was time. The whole scheme had been planned to the minutest detail, it had to be. The main prize was the tens of millions of dollars’ worth of jewels worn by the female guests attending the annual formal Casino Night by the Bay Ball. The annual black tie ball was a Republican Political Fundraiser by special invitation only and Olivia, who had been carefully selected and shadowed for weeks now, had been one of the lucky ticket holders. As a final coup de grâce , Tallie would attend the ball wearing Olivia’s luxurious gown and her brilliantly expensive diamonds, fitting right in with the other attendees. Security would be checking ID’s at the door. But Tallie now resembled Olivia almost to a T. She would fool those rent a cops easily as they checked her against Olivia‘s driver’s license for identification, bending over and showing a little bosom for added distraction. Tallie couldn’t wait to mingle and rub elbows with the galas ultra-rich patrons. She would mark her time by mingling and endearing herself to as many of the male guests as possible in the short time allotted to her. She would use her rich welsh brogue to the fullest to win over the posh male Yanks. All the while admiring the shiny gowns and scoping out the shimmering jewels that would be adorning her fellow female guests. Those jewels would include the Dahlkemper pearls, the Caboyt diamonds with the brilliant sapphires that placed the “Hope Diamond” to shame, and, of course, the famous matching waterfall diamond sets the Dempsey Twins would be wearing (Not to mention their Mother’s emeralds and rubies) . The sets, which had been presented as gifts at the twins ultra- fancy coning out ball, were insured for over 1 million dollars by the girls parents.
Then at the appointed hour, Tallie would slip away to a seldom used back stage door, conveniently hidden neath a stairwell. Security would not have this door covered. It was there that Tallies’ husband and his troupe of fellow masked thieves would be waiting to make their entrance. If all went to plan and it would, she was sure of that, they would proceed to hold up and rob all the guests. Relieving the lot of their fat designer purses, thick leather wallets, gold Rolexes, and of course, their jewels, Lots and lots of shimmering, pricy jewelry. Not to mention the piles of loose cash lying on the gambling tables begging to be collected. Tallie’s heart beat faster at the enticing visions.
After the last guest had been relieved of their valuables, Tallie’s next part of the plot would come. This was where Tallie’s experience as an actress would pay off. The thieves would grab an innocent hostage (Tallie) by knifepoint Then, while threatening the life of the frightened squirming hostage, order the rest of the guests to strip off their clothing. If Tallie had played her part well, mingling and playing the doe eyed innocent who reminded those she met as someone who they would love to protect, her fellow guests would not want to see her harmed and be obedient to the robbers threats, not wishing any harm to come to her. The guests would be threatened to not to try anything for the next hour, or they would eliminate their hostage. The gang would then leave with their loot, as well as their hapless hostage. Then they would make, what in Tallie’s opinion, was a rather brilliantly orchestrated get away.
This was not the first time out for Tallie and her husband’s team, but it promised to be their last. The gang had been operating in Europe and Latin America, seeking out small, but lucrative, gatherings of the privileged and ultra-wealthy. They had gotten quite adept, fine tuning a formula that successfully paid attention to even the minutest detail.
Tallie loved playing the part of the inside victim. Getting as close as possible to the female guests (usually by flirting with husbands and boyfriends) to get a close appraisal of their jewels. Then, after letting her husband and crew loose, observing the well-dressed guests being herded to line up along the wall with raised hands. Usually creating a colorful array of swishing lace, satin, silk , velvety gowns and dresses, all flowing along forlorn figures. It was a thrill to watch their facial and body expressions and reactions. Especially of the women and girls present, as they were forced to hand over their flashy gemstones, their Shiny gold and silver, opulent pearls and other assorted fine jewelry were handed over reluctantly from about their persons.
Then would come the part that really aroused Tallie. The thieves would reach her and tell her to “fork over the jewels miss,” and depending on her mood, would do so, either acting defiant and forcing them to take them off her, or frightened(especially if the thief was her husband) , and timidly handing them over. She would be squirming inside with a deep, delicious delight as she took off , or had the thief wrench off, each precious piece. It was a reaction she did not fully understand, but just knew and accepted it as a scintillating feeling. Tallie, shivered, licking her lips at past memories of being a robbery “victim”.
The band had no qualms about was fair game, boldly invading Weddings, Receptions, Fancy dress dances and even the upscale prom or mansion party. All had been meticulously planned, all had been very lucrative. Their last raid had been carried out on a coming out party for an English Earl/ Minister and his titled wife’s only daughter. It had occurred at the minister’s isolated country manor located deep in the moors. Where, in addition to the jewels worn by the guests that ill-fated Saturday evening, the manor’s many bedroom safes yielded a dazzling array of cases of unworn jewelry brought by the guests for the four day weekend.
Tallie fondly remembered that raid. She had gained access to the family by going as the guest of a rather vain bachelor she had “happened to make an acquaintance with,” in London. The dinner gatherings and nightly parties that had led up to the night of the debutante’s ball had been all over the top, as only very old money can pull off. Tallie had almost suffered a system overload by observing the bounty of rich offerings at her fingertips. Beckoning jewels so very close, and as of yet, so very far. The Saturday evening ball could not have come soon enough. But come it did, and the minister’s daughter did not disappoint, nor did her mother or any other of their female guests. The young debutante had made her grand entrance in a long slinky blood red gown and matching gloves. Among the child’s perfect jewels was included an authentic family heirloom tiara, dripping with pristine diamonds, holding up the wavy curls of her silky fawn hair.
Tallies mouth had watered as she kept stealing looks, keeping her eyes glued to the precocious miss all evening. She inwardly was squirming with anticipation, up until the delightful moment when the begowned debutante limply removed and handed over the tiara, along with the rest of her gleaming diamonds and pearls to one of the gang of masked robbers who had had the “audacity “ to crash the party..
Now, Tallie was traditionally allowed to keep one piece of jewelry from the loot taken from each job as part of her take if she so desired. She always enjoyed picking out pieces she would like to have as she mingled with her fellow guests before her husband’s gang charged in. In the coming out party it had been the sad puppy faced debutante‘s cascading diamond earrings that Tallie had claimed for her own from the minute she first saw them dangling from the pretty girl’s delicate ears. Tallie had subsequently worn and been “robbed” of those earrings several times on jobs since then.
After the Manor house’s guests had been relieved of their valuables, the gang had made its getaway, seemingly vanishing into the moors misty air. The mechanics of that escape would form the basis of their getaway attempt after this evening’s robbery of the wealthy guests attending the “By the Bay Ball” Actually the symmetry of the two events did not stop there. The profit realized by the take from the Earl’s family and guests had given the gang the seed money for the enormous expense in planning tonight’s complex raid. And tonight’s successful raid on the ball, appropriately enough, its diamond jubilee, would be splashed over all of the countries newspapers, like the Manor raid had been. And like after the Manor raid, Tallie and her husband would be reading those papers in the safty of their isolated island retreat.
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As Tallie dwelt on that remembrance, the elevator completed its long, uninterrupted journey by tinging its 1st floor arrival. Showtime! Tallie thought with wry amusement as she stepped into the now crowded lobby. Tonight would be more of the same tingling robbery experiences, only ten times better and since it may very well be her last time , Tallie was going to savor every delicious minute.
Tallie left the elevator and moved quickly towards the sitting area she had occupied when watching for Olivia to come in. In one of the chairs sat a young man wearing wraparound sunglasses reading a blue covered novel. She swished by him, allowing her satin clad leg to brush along his. She watched with enticement as he straightened, uncomfortably, in his chair, his reaction to her teasing pleasing her immensely . Going around him, she placed her clutch on the chair behind him before turning and primping herself in front of one of the long mirrored walls that lined the sitting area. Seeing that no one as of yet was looking her way, she smiled to herself and swished her way back into the main lobby, leaving behind her clutch. She again passed the young man, who, even with the sunglasses, bore a striking resemblance to a young Sidney Poitier! No signal passed between them. The blue novel meant everything was going as planned, a red novel would have meant danger. The clutch on the chair behind him signaled the young man she had teased, Jessie by name , that everything was a go on Tallies end. After she left, Jessie would retrieve the clutch and rejoin Tallies husband and the rest of his gang.
With the prearranged signals exchanged, Tallie happily made her way to the fancy Glass doors where a uniformed Doorman was opening for arriving and departing guests. She could feel more than one pair of jealous eyes following her as she weaved her way through the crowd, her long gown swishing deliciously along her pretty figure. The pretty blond in the purple satin and shimmering diamonds was soon lost to sight, as she exited the doors to the misty street below. Those watching her were totally oblivious that the pretty blonde passing them was setting into motion the complex wheels of a rather ingenious scheme. Meanwhile in a ballroom some miles away a large group of extremely well dressed and decked out guests attending a certain excessively extravagant Ball , were innocently mingling, jewels sparkled with a frenzied riot of colours! These heavily gem encrusted guests were also totally oblivious as to what fate had in store for them in a few hours.
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@ Chatwick University extends its compliments to the unknown artist whose worthy photo and captivating title proved to be the spark that ignited the genesis of our Tallies Odyssey….
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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.
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Image of “Angie” first appeared : Best true detective cover July 1962
The story of the racket dames behind the sensational Park Avenue Jewel Robberies
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This is a link to a You Tube Video of a thief not unlike our Angie.
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Title: Now, if only she could find where that darling young miss, the one so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too?
Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual facts as originally recorded. Some names, times, places and some facts have been altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 1933
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Place: Resolution Ball - Baltimore (original incarnation)
Time: Evening, through early morning, of the dance
Story line:
Angie grinned, stowing away the emerald bracelet, as she smugly watched the police dragging away the struggling girl. Lit cigarette dangling from a corner of her lip; Angie smirked wickedly to herself as Ginny frantically tried to plead her innocence.
**
One of the coppers had her by the wrists; the other tried gripping her waist, finding it slippery by the satiny gown she was wearing. Ginny was pleading, it was not me, I don’t know how it got there, please let me go, my emeralds, my bracelet… its…its..I gone! I must find it, shrieked the struggling girl. Angie just listened to the girl, ginning; Ginny’s tearful words, spoken in her brash nasally east ender accent, wasn’t helping her cause with the pre-judgmental coppers.
One of them snarled loudly into her ear, ere ,you aint the kind to wear emeralds sister, we’ve got your number, it was her diamonds youse was after.
Actually, she had, Angie admitted to herself wickedly. Yes, dear Ginny had been wearing an emerald bracelet, the one Angie now had tucked securely away. Nevertheless, she chose not to enlighten the harness bulls on the matter, and smugly watched as the small group disappeared through the entrance, heading down to the eastside patrol car waiting at the street, as she let a wisp of cigarette smoke curl upwards from her sneering lips.
**
So it was now, with the emeralds safely tucked away, that Angie turned he back to the main door to watch down the long corridor as she continued puffing on her victory smoke. At the end of the hallway was the main entrance to the cavernous Ballroom where all action had all taken place leading up to poor Ginny’s arrest.
With a suspect now in custody, and two less security bulls, Angie was free to slip back in amongst the wealthy guests in attendance at the ball. Now, if only she could find where that darling young miss, the one so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too! She shivered deliciously at the mere thought of it. However, she decided to take her time finishing her cigarette, give things ample time to cool down, as she marveled at the opulence that seemed to bleed from every square inch of the Baltimore Palace this evening.
How Angie savored attending events held here, and visited the Baltimore area Ballroom several times whenever she was in town on “business”. The lighting, modern for the day, seemed to coax any piece of jewelry to sparkle. Making it ever so easy to focus on even the smallest (and sometimes most expensive) piece a fashionably dressed female would be wearing.
**
For you see, Angie was a master pickpocket, who, with the discovery and subsequent aid of a pamphlet written in the early 1800’s, was able to take her game to the next, more profitable level...
See Album: Angie Picks Chicago for the story of how she discovered the phamplette.
Entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip by “Gaston Monescu, 1826”, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets of the time, Including whole chapters on successful “Methodes” of relieving a well-dressed lady of her” jeweles”.
Angie had nimbly crafted a new art form of relieving wealthy women and rich girls of their valuable jewelry. She performed this feat by combining the tactics of an illusionist, with the delicate touch of “The Dip” ; Employing this method to nick the fiery sparklers while still warm from the unwary, usually be-gowned , figures ostentatiously displaying them!
**
Angie began to reflect on how the ballroom had looked when she had first entered some three hours previously. She had been eagerly anticipating the opportunities in store for her inside, and she was not disappointed in the very least. The place was packed wall to wall with guests dressed in their dapper nines for the annual event.
Like a kid in a candy shop, Angie had eagerly looked over the crowd, admiring the shiny, flowing gowns the female guests were wearing. Selecting and keenly observing dresses made of the richest, most form fitting material, for by long experience, these women wearing them would bring the most profit. By employing this method to narrow the field of selections, Angie was able to quickly to pinpoint on a piece of jewelry, make her move, and be gone before giving any security patrolling the area a chance to recognize her for what she was. It sometimes was as easy as taking candy from a baby, or as Angie like to imagine it, relieving a satin and lace clad innocent of her “silver spoon”
Angie than eagerly looked over the jewels of those she had chosen, vividly glittering their colourful joy at being brought out of the vault and worn for this evening’s festivities. She had been quite hard pressed to make a selection, so for the first 30 minutes or so, Angie just mingled about, following her whimsy.
Then she spotted Olivia. Elegant in a long slick purple gown of luxurious silk that flowed and moved tightly along her shapely figure as she flitted about, presenting the very picture of a tickle thief’s dream ( see addendum rr).. Young, flighty and loaded with beckoning diamonds, Angie began to stalk her in ever decreasing circles, hunting her slowly, deliberately, much as a snake in the grass would a tiny unsuspecting mouse. However, all too soon, Angie realized that this mouse was being watched over by someone else, like a hawk.
The hawks name was Ginny. Lower east end, rough as her cousin Olivia was polished, awkward in one of her cousins borrowed long satin gowns, she watched protectively over her mingling cousin from the sidelines, totally out of her element, ill-fitting right down to the only jewelry she wore, a shimmering elegant emerald bracelet that was obviously borrowed( probably from Olivia) . Angie weighed the consequences of an attempt on Olivia’s diamonds, deciding that there was plenty of less guarded prey, and so Angie reluctantly decided to let go of the scent.
**
It was not much later that Angie, from her new perch at one of the twin bars that lined opposite sides of the room, found herself eyeing a most interesting subject. She rose and began trailing behind the swishing gown of her new prospect. The fine taffeta gown was spilling down along the still voluptuous, if not a little pudgy, figure of an older, matronly looking lady with long hair of faded gold. Her longish hair was home to a glittering Diamond Head band, from which shimmering strings of diamonds were entertained in her still silky soft hair.
The lady stopped to chat with two other finely decked out women, giving Angie a chance to circle and leisurely eyeball, head to foot, these unsuspecting ladies baubles. Angie felt her heart rate quicken with delight at what she saw.. Now, older women could be a little bit trickier since they were more likely to notice quicker the disappearance of often worn jewelry, as opposed to younger ladies or girls were not yet used to wearing fine jewelry adorning their squirming figures. Nevertheless, Angie spied something that should even the playing field a bit, so to speak, making this wealthy lady a fairly less risky prospect…
Now, Monescu‘s pamphlet had a little side Chapter on how ladies would sooner think jewels were lost as to believe they had been stolen from them (pickpockets only go after wallets and hankies, my dear, everyone knows that!) . To this end, losing one of a pair, like an earring, or clips, is a safe bet, especially if one desires to tempt fate and remain in the area to try for a second piece, like the brooch one of her friends was wearing.
And the lady Angie was ogling was wearing a pair of twin diamond and ruby clips, one on each side of the wide shiny sash that encircled her waist. Taking one of her jeweled clips should be as easy as slipping candy away from the side of a silken clad baby. Which in a fashion, Angie had actually done, once long ago, coming across a small group of wedding attired young girls playing alone at a playground, whose chaperones had obligingly wandered off for a bit. But, when Angie had left the chirpy little group to continue their game of (appropriately enough) cops n robbers, It had definitely not been the gullible young ladies candy that walked off along with her!
(See album, Angie at play, for the full story)
Angie’s full attention was now focused on the two wave shaped clips as the pair fired glittering salvos of flickering rainbow-like colures with each elegant movement their mistress made. Patiently Angie stalked from a distance, awaiting her chance. It came soon enough, when the Hors d’oeuvres were put out, and the clips, along with their mistress, headed with the other multitudes of guests to the long banquet tables. As they formed a line, Angie managed to wedge herself in between the lines, effectively cutting off her victim, who bumped against Angie.
Angie’s left hand slipped in and snaked along the satin sash, feeling once again the deliciously tingling ling chill she always experienced when her fingers first rubbed against the warm scintillating material of a luscious gown as she dipped in to steal the selected jewel.. This time was no different as her slender fingers located the first of the clips ; lifting it up, and nimbly flicked open the clasp( it was amazing how jewelers skimped on clasps when making upper end jewels), at the same time her right hand slithered up the slick taffeta backside of her victims gown. Reaching underneath an armpit, her fingernails dug in, distracting her victim as to the nefarious activity happening at her waist. The lady was knocked slightly off balance, and anyone else who saw the pair had their eyes focused their faces, and not on any handiwork occurring with the hands below sight.
Angie apologized profusely in her softest most innocent voice. Petting down the ladies backside as she did so with her right hand, while her left plucked the clip from her sash and palmed the jewel and slipped behind her back. It was over in seconds, merely someone trying to cut the line, and Angie made her escaped receiving a few clucks of the tongue from one of the ladies’ friend as the lady caught up to them. Angie just smiled at them winningly, her hand still behind her back. As she smiled, Angie slipped the diamond clip down inside her sash before turning away and heading off.
It had all come off quite easily, and Angie was congratulating herself, when suddenly a voice behind her pronounced, quite loud and clear, oh my gwad Ceclia, you’ve lost a brooch. Diamond clip Angie correctly the lady silently to herself. She did not turn, but kept on moving, even slowing her pace a bit. From the same area she heard Celica gasp. Me clip, I’ve lost one of me diamond clips! it was here a minute ago, remember Maud, you was admiring them, weren’t you? Angie could imagine from what actions the lady in the elegant taffeta gown was taking now that she had discovered her loss, security was probably hoofing their way over, Angie had to think quickly.
Not losing any of her demeanor, Angie turned causally around to watch with the rest of the nearby group as the lady was showing her sash and the remaining clip to a couple of her friends. Angie spied a brace uniformed bulls approaching. She casually turned and headed across the room, her mind whirling. she knew that the pricy clip was too hot to hold onto. She had slowly looked around as she sauntered away from the scene. Then, spotting one of the many Ladies powder rooms scattered around, she ducked into it. Angie knew from past experiences ( and a few hints from Monescu‘s phamplett) that rooms such as these had a plethora of hiding places to let “hot items” cool down..
She entered the room, the noise dying out as the door closed. She was alone, wait, not nearly, the room had one other occupant. Ginny was at the sink, washing her face, the bored look she had worn all evening now was replaced by deep thoughts, forlorn ones by the looks of it. On the fly Angie coolly devised a plan.
She walked up behind the unwary, unnoticing, fetchingly clad Ginny, and wrapped her arms round her, hugging, as she called out, Maude dear, I haven’t seen you in ages. Ginny was uncomfortably flabbergasted, and Angie felt her warm figure stiffen. She turned and Angie apologized, I am so sorry , I totally mistook you for someone else. I should have known better, Maude is not nearly as pretty .As she spoke, Angies’ fingers touched and prodded the startled girl, not allowing her to collect her wits. If Angie was hoping for a smile, she didn’t get it,. Streetwise Ginny looked at Angie hard, and scolded the thief for scaring the beezusses out of her. In a Huff Ginny left, Angie watched as Ginny’s soft gown curled around the closing door before whipping out of.
She was smiling to herself, for as she had hugged Ginny, she had deposited the clip in the girls green velvet purse that was laying open on the vanity. She had also in the process, tit for tat, whisked off the emeralds from around the flustered Ginny’s satin gloved wrist.
Not wasting any time Angie headed down the hallway where she secreted the bracelet in a nearby ash can, slipping it underneath the ½ ash filled bowl. Angie than reentered the ballroom, and went up to the orchestra’s conductor and requested a couple of waltzes, ones she knew were lengthy.
She then look around to make sure that she had all the principle players in her plot in sight. She spied Ginny talking with her cousin Olivia, and Celia was still searching the floor by the banquet tables. Now Maude , Maude took a little doing, but Angie spotted her chatting with a security cop. Great Angie thought, all I need to do is wait for it. “It” soon became apparent , was the start of one of the slow waltzes, and sure enough, Olivia was almost immediately scooped up and led off to the dance floor, leaving poor Ginny alone, as she had been most of the evening. Her hard disposition more than enough to keep any potential suitors at bay.
Angie immediately sought out Maude, a short mousey woman in a faded velvet gown wearing loads of gold chains and bangles. Angie caught her ear; feeding her a story about what she saw being placed in a certain green velvet purse. Maude’s eyes darted to where Ginny stood along a wall, and Angie saw a delicious gleam flare up in mousey Maude’s semi -be speckled green eyes.
**
Angie than serenely slipped back, regaining her barstool perch and waited as the developments unfolded. Maude went to the copper she had been chatting up, and they both went to Celica. The copped grabbed a partner and the group surrounded poor Ginny. Angie kept one eye on the, and the other on Olivia, who was dancing on the far side of the room, blissfully unaware of the clamor on the far wall, that was surrounding her hapless cousin Ginny.
Angie saw that, upon discovering what she had in her purse, they were going to arrest her and escort Ginny off the premises, exactly as Angie had planned! Angie slipped from her stool, and headed out to the lobby to await the final act in Ginny’s tragedy. Angie concealed herself in the hidden alcove, behind the small ash can where she had stashed the emerald bracelet. Just in time to witness the poor girl, struggling between the two security types, and being forcibly escorting her out. When she was sure no suspicion was coming her way, Angie lit a victory smoke, and retrieved the emeralds, stowing them away as she looked back upon the protesting Ginny, struggling as she was being ushered out the door to the waiting patrol car on the street below.
**
Now, Angie only had to find where that darling young Olivia, so richly clad in purple silk, had gotten her pretty little self-off too! With a suspect now in custody, and two less security bulls, Angie was free to slip back in amongst the wealthy guests in attendance at the ball. Good thing old Angie girl was a tough cookie, she contemplated, congratulating herself over not losing her head and coming out in roses, as happy with herself, she watched down the hallway. She was in no hurry; haste makes waste after all, so Angie savored her thoughts as she waited patiently to continue her mischievous habits.
Her thoughts now were trained fully on the unsuspecting, capriciously flighty , Olivia, and her dazzling diamonds.
In her minds eye she relished over several scenarios that could develop, and how to use them to her advantage, Angie exciting herself so much that she held the cigarette for a minute to lick her lips over them…
She imagined Olivia darting about, as she looked for her missing cousin, imagining, a well-placed foot on the hemline of a swirling long purple silk gown, which could yield some marvelous results.
Or perhaps Olivia could use some help looking for her cousin. Angie would then be able to discreetly help herself to some of the enticingly slippery-gowned Olivia’s dainty, but expensively fiery, diamond jewelry.
Alternatively, and best of all, and it is here where the almost purring Angie licked her lips, was a most scintillating scenario…
Angie could explain what had happened and offer to share a cab downtown with her new friend. Angie would comfort the worrying, sobbing (brought on by how Angie would describe what had happened) girl riding alongside her in the back of the bouncing cab. Angie would comfortingly stroke the warm figure encased in the richly slick, scrumptiously smooth silky gown, as she cooed words of encouragement in Olivia’s ears, Angie’s lips touching the diamond earrings dripping down from their lobes.
Then she would let Olivia go inside alone, as not to cause her cousin any further embarrassment. Then Angie would watch as Olivia hurried away, admiring the flow of her shiny gown in the light from the entranceways lamps ,and while also basking in the provocative sparkle of any remaining diamonds that Angie had not managed to spirit away during the ride down to the police station.
Angie shivered happily, as she gave one final drag on her cigarette and bent down to place it in the ash bin.
Suddenly Angie’s senses perked up, and she raised her head, shooting her gaze down the long corridor..
A lady was leaving the ballroom, unescorted, heading down the long hallway to the exit. She could tell by the quality of the long slinky gown that fell in ruffles from the hem of the long black mink she wore, and by the rings glittering from the hand that held the thick mink, that this specimen was well worth some effort. Angie rose, not yet noticed by the fur encased broad. One for the road, Angie thought to herself, bemused. The lady kept looking back, like she did not really want to leave and was afraid she would miss something exciting. That fact, along with the narrowness of the passage made for an excellent opportunity… A well place foot, and expertly placed bump, a few seconds of confusion, and the lady and Angie would part company, and Angie would have parted something else from the broad, and be a richer woman for it.
It was a formula that Angie had perfected and executed many profitable times. As a matter of fact, it had only been a few days prior that a young daughter, quite fetchingly (and targetable) in a pretty lavender satin and lace gown, ornamented regally with pearls and a flashy blue rhinestone tiara, had quite literally, but not accidentally, come under foot. Allowing Angie the opportunity to artfully nick the girl’s fine strand of gleaming white pearls (with a sapphire gemmed drop!) that had obligingly bounced up into Angie’s waiting fingers.
Angie now watched this rich lady headed towards her, with the very same thoughts in mind. But she needed to know what jewels the broad had hidden under that pricey mink. As the lady came close Angie tried to “will” her to open up. “C’mon honey, its warm, you must be burning up in that pelt, show mama what you got.” But the broad did not obligingly peel back the mink for Angie, and Angie would never know what riches may have been in the cupboard, or perhaps it had been bare, though Angie seriously doubted it. The lady reached her, shooting Angie a nervous smile. Angie smiled back, wondering if the lad realized how close she had come to being relieved of one of her fancy trinkets.
As the woman passed by, Angie watched her backside, musing to herself, Fine, I’ll just have to settle for Olivia. Angie then started down the long deserted corridor with a brisk walk, her satin dress bouncing in rhythm.
**
Reaching the Ballroom proper, Angie stopped and gave the room a vigilant scan for security, and as she had figured, it definitely had loosened up. She then searched in earnest for the young miss clad in her expensive purple silk “tickling gown”( see addendum rr). The naïve young thing had been ever so carelessly displaying those delectably exquisite diamonds of hers with such reckless abandon that it would be a wonder if she still possessed all of them. It will be a wonder if she still does after meeting me, Angie mused. She almost was purring in anticipation as she thought about those diamonds, especially the long necklace and the way it had flung from side to side as the girl had walked past Angie the first time that evening(and several more since). Angie envisioned the diamonded box clasp at the back of her bare neck (long hair was high in a bun) that held the necklace around her neck, for now! She hoped that Olivia had not removed her shiny hairpiece to let her long hair down, Angie prayed, it would make things so much the easier.
As Angie thought about this she slowly edged her way along the wall, dodging in and out amongst the happily chatting guest, constantly on the lookout for Olivia.
Angie was suddenly, unexpectedly blindsided from behind as something incredibly soft, slickly bumped up against her back. Like a cat, she kept her feet and whirled around in time to catch a handful of pure heaven in the form of one of the be- gowned young “princesses” that seemed to be everywhere this gay evening. She found herself nose to eye with a young miss, resplendent in a long slippery gown as black as ink, and as soft as young chinchilla. The sleek gown literally poured tightly down along her perked figure to the floor, covering over her shiny black high heels. The colour of night that was her gown was broken only by the whiteness of her bare shoulders and neck, and by an exquisitely large, leaf like brooch of clear diamond banquets that covered her right side at least 8 inches above and below her slender waistline.
The young “princess” giggled nervously as she profusely apologized over her “silliness” at tripping over her own gown as she had stepped backwards. Angie oozed kindness as she spoke soothingly to the girl, watching her melt like putty in Angie’s light fingered hands. As Angie spoke calmingly to the girl, her eyes were indiscreetly soaking up the dazzling white diamond necklace that surrounded the nervous girl’s bare white throat that was now eye level to Angie. .Angie looked down at the girls gloved hand resting upon her full bosom , admiring the softness of the satin gloves (dyed to match her gown) that stretched up past her elbows, drooling secretly over the enormous cocktail ring that graced one of her fingers. The princess raised up her hands, giving them to Angie, who took up the satin clad hands, holding them as tightly as she was holding the girls gaze, before letting the girl slowly slip them from her firm grasp., .
The girls eyes finally broke away, and Angie smiled exuberantly, giving the girl an enveloping hug to show there were no hard feelings, letting her hands slip ever so gingerly down to grasp the girl by the waist, giving her a squeeze. She then let the young thing slip out, free to go on her way, as Angie turned and did likewise. As Angie sauntered off, she happily thought that it was sometimes funny how occasionally, when least expected, one gets very lucky. As she thought this, she moved her clenched fist to the top of her dress. Pulling the dress out, she dropped down her cleavage the rather large, expensively glittering , diamond brooch she had so carefully slipped from the rather ditsy young ”princess” black satin clad waist. The damsel had not so much felt a prick when Angie had lifted the jewel, snapped the clasp open, and slipped it from her figure as her hands had squeezed her scintillatingly soft waist. She now felt it wonderfully slip down, joining Ginny’s purloined bracelet already resting securely there. Angie stole a careful look back over her shoulder.
The clueless young” Princess” was now happily dancing away with a tuxedoed young man. Her handsome partner, with a neatly trimmed beard, had one white gloved hand holding up her hand in black satin, the enormous cocktail ring shining out like some richly coloured beacon ; the other white gloved hand lay upon her back, mere inches away from the simple hook in eye clasp of the necklace of white diamonds. Angie drooled, how she would have liked to have had her hands in either of the positions that the man’s were now laid. Taking the ring and necklace would have been a piece of cake. Angie did sometimes secretly envy men, who could get close to jewel-laden ladies in ways that Angie could not! Angie imagined these wicked thoughts to herself as she allowed herself to be mesmerized by the blaze of fiery diamonds that for the time being, were still wrapped around the “princess’s” slender white throat.
Angie was not worried about the young lady raising a squawk over a missing brooch. Clumsy Dames like her were used to having jewelry misplaced. Angie wondered if they ever realized how many times those jewels were not misplaced, but stolen by light fingered thieves who, like Angie, knew all too well how to read the signs and reap the rewards. If only she had had time to be better prepared, she sighed, turning her attention reluctantly away from the diamonds.
Angie moved off, filled with the confidence that the tides of her fortune had turned for the better. Rounding a corner Angie spied Celia off to one side, and toyed with the idea of slipping off her remaining diamond clip now that Maud was still chatting up one of the Guards (another one out of commission!) Then, for a split second, on the other side of the room, she saw the silky wisp of purple that singled out her prey. Now, down to business she said, licking her lips. With a cat like gleam in her eyes, she swiftly stole into the crowd of dancing couples. Soon she was lost to sight, swept up in a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns.
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Addendum rr (excerpted from :Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip by “Gaston Monescu, 1826”)
A perfect tickle thief setup, as Angie renamed it, was a ploy for use on a lady “waering a long gown or skirtes” that was easily trip able, when a foot stepped on it from behind, sometimes added with a soft nudge, sending the wearer tumbling. Ones fingers, in the process of steading or helping would glide(tickling) over the material ( the sleeker the better) to reach and pluck free the fair ladies’ targeted bauble.
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Interested in reading more about the shenanigans of Angie?
Then Check out the following albums:
Angie Picks Chicago
Angie being Receptive
Angie being chartable
Angie at Play
Angie Trick Or Treat( coming soon)
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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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.
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Sanjaasürengiin Zorig 1962 – 2 October 1998
His murder remains unsolved!
ARIUKAM© All Rights Reserved
Now this is one odd sight. Why on earth was 10736 on driver training duties, so the blind says? Was it even on driver training duties? Was he just playing with the blind? Is something wrong with the Darts? This is one of the mysteries which probably will go unsolved, it was certainly a good catch.
Seen on Carr Lane is 10736, a 2016 Enviro 400 MMC to replace an Ex London ALX400....
OK, so now there are a gazillion and one photos of this place. I did my yearly 38k round trip trek on my bike today. And, yes every year I stop at this old German Woolen Mill along the Grand. It is supposedly said to be "haunted" possibly from an unsolved murder in one of it's bedrooms in 1941. The weather was pretty decent until I arrived here. I was all alone and it suddenly turned grey and gloomy and started to rain, so I tried to give the pic a "paranormal" feel to it just for fun! I didnt know what else to do since it has been photographed every which way.
Have a great weekend!!
View large.....BOO!
But it isn’t over.
My armour damaged, my nose bleeds....yet I still stand firmly. Friends around me may have fallen, but I feel the electricity surging through my veins.
Then Igarashi stands up as well, his face heavily scarred. He tries to use his “powers” on me, but he fails to do so when I’ve finally got a hold—as I shock him right on the spot. It's over for him. Connor, covered in dust and grime, rises but behind him, knocking Igarashi on his feet.
Now the student looms over his defeated sensei, huh, well played. I couldn’t be more glad to see him alive, my older brother. He was holding a staff, despite the rough, scarred edges, in his left hand, and the katana on his right. Even if I can't see through his mask, I could picture how his eyes would look like, being ready to execute him right away.
Connor: “This is over, Igarashi. You’ve used up your powers, and it’s out of your reach for the katana to be understood. This is a relic to be respected. Worse yet, you lied to us far too long. You have committed so much heinous crimes for too long. Ambition for power and all that... ”
Igarashi: “Yes—-young one.....yes! I conspired against you....because possessing the sword meant I would ascend to the highest rank of the crime families! I wanted more power....the ability of a superhuman.....but you had to stop me! You have given yourself to the cause of your family and friends more than us!”
Connor: “Unfortunately you misused it, and that’s not how it works. Abusing the greatest thing the guild ever stood for: honour. I’m sorry, but you’re going to—“
Igarashi: “Die?! Fine, go ahead and kill me! Do not forget who trained you? Who raised you to become the man today?!”
Oddcrow: “Wait! Cease your fighting at one! Dusksmoke, you’re not going to kill your sensei! I only did my part to protect you....I thought sacrifice was a way out.”
Connor: “Yes. But I’m holding back. People like him don’t deserve death like this, despite the actions he’s done. But he did have a hand in raising me. I guess I’m going to call it fair. In fact, you’re the one to make a choice. Because you’re going to be the next leader. You were my sensei after all. This isn’t a matter of his nationality or race, but I believe you have potential and true leadership. My fellow guild, would you agree?”
Assassins: “Yes. We vote in favour. He....is our new leader.”
Oddcrow: “Alright. He’ll be exiled. To an island where he will be spending the rest of his life. Take him away.”
Igarashi: "Wait--no, you can't do this! You will regret this! I will come back! I will have more power, and I will wield the katana however I see fit! Dusksmoke, you will pay!"
Connor: "No, you won't. I'll make you won't see the light of day if you try to ever make a return. Your last days and fate will be a collective judgement. Send him off, please."
***
Oddcrow: “Well, I guess this isn’t too bad after all, from a schoolteacher to a guild master....”
Dustsmmoke: “Nah, it’s good. You ever seen a cybernetic warrior going around doing stuff? That’s what I did....I saved children. From the Spectres.”
Oddcrow: “All these years, we were mistaken on the wars from the outsiders. However with Connor’s faith, he managed to bring us together. To shape a better guild. Because we’re not killers, exactly.”
Ty: “That’s honourable.”
Erin: “Yes. And will his old classmates and best friends, I can't wait for our big reunion”
Ty: “Glad to know you’ve got my back, like Avalon does.”
Sam: “This is where we’re leaving off, are we? To save the day again!”
Edens: "Well, I can't exactly leave you hanging at the end of every mission like that, fill the paperworks and---
Riley/Jesse: “C’mon Doc, at least give us the holiday back!”
Edens: “Right, right....vacation continues. No disruptions. Only if it's emergency. Two weeks, sound good?”
Kieran: “Let’s call for a celebration. Let's cheer ”
Oddcrow: “You are granted an extended stay in Japan. Go anywhere you want, how about that too? For Avalon, you are deemed worthy and you can come whenever you please. You have gained our trust. We are in your debt and would be gladly to call you allies.”
Edens: "For sure, we have your word. Now we gotta...clean up a bit before alerting the agency."
Harry: "Well, least to say I'm done killin' anyone for the night."
***2 days later, at Edens' Japanese penthouse:***
Ty: “Maybe I could take a look at the ancestry books, considering I’ve got my heritage here.”
Erin: “I’m sure you’ll love finding them here, Shiro.”
Ty: “Since when did you start calling me that again? Oh, and yeah, maybe I could bring gran and mom here one day...maybe even my sister.”
Erin: “Sure, family’s fun. I don’t know. Maybe since the first day? I had a big crush on you when we got to elementary. I think's it's cute.”
Ty: “That’s....makes sense. I knew I laid eyes on you since we met. I love you, Erinbug.”
Erin: “I love you, too, Ty.”
Connor: “Ahem, good chemistry, you two. I knew that’s why I aced every test in science class. Sensed it in the air around me. Couldn’t hold back before you wanna kiss, cuz I had to bring the gang back together like a glue.”
Erin: "I remember how you liked me for a while before it ended up a wingman for him."
Connor: "I was very helpful wasn't I? Crush turned into one of the best friendship. I helped you get notes for him. You know, just anything to impress. Ty, I helped both of you. Give me some credit."
Ty: “Very funny. You sound just like your brother.”
Jesse: “Well, Arden genes, hermano! Except for the fact when the other team’s gone around town. Gary and the ladies are going crazy at shopping, man.”
Edens: “Well, it seems like this is definitely elementary reunion after all. I got a question stuck in my head since then....have you actually considered it yet, Dusksmoke? On our offer?”
Connor: “Oh, on that? l’ve thought it through. Oddcrow’s a better leader than I am. Though for me, I could work solo even if there’s nowhere to go....and my friend’s still in hospital.”
Jesse: “We’ve got a spot up for you if you need it.”
Sam: “Could always lend a hand in Japanese weapon mastery and those herbs of yours, so I can work on medical stuff with Kurt and co.”
Connor: “Hmm, that’d be interesting.”
Ty: “You’ve proven yourself too, earned a worthy spot. Avalon deserves a sixth member just like Gamma....turns out it might be you now, Connor. Which makes you 11, sort of.”
Connor: “I’m game. This is might fight now, since guild stuff is gonna have to reform and change in time. Guess I do have a lot to catch up in what you guys do, eh? Wait, is that Agent Khattar?”
Khattar: “In the flesh, agents. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting a nice reunion, but I’m here to announce I’m officially in on the Paladin stuff.”
Edens: “Just before you all get surprised, Navin’s now a partner with Paladin. He might belong to Interpol, but we secretly had an agreement to benefit conditions on our terms. Again, I'm sh*t at keeping it secret.”
Harry: “Though the boards would never agree...I’ll still play it through. Cheers.”
Khattar: “Cheers to you too. I’m sure it is going to be fine, a promise is a promise—-it’ll be confidential. I trust all of you given your defense in Tokyo and the countries you hopped on fighting. But as I suspected, that there are bigger hands behind what we’re looking at. They might be planning something....and your business friend is in danger.”
Edens: “Mason? He’s doing fine....but he’s been strange as always.”
Khattar: “Then you’ll have to keep an eye on him. For now, I will leave you guys be. Have fun! And also, Dusksmoke, your friend is doing alive and well. Go check up on her when you have the time.”
***
Board member: “And he’s officiated? Wonderful. For this event, I will not hold regard or remorse, but you should have let us know, Remus."
Edens: “Yes. Dusksmoke was always one of ours. He’s been playing the mole this whole time.
Raze: “Pfft, fine. You have it off easy this time since it's the Paladin council deciding together. But I will not tolerate your secrets being kept from us, privately and personally as a high ranking official. There will be no next times. You know what the
consequences, don’t you Avalon?”
Ty: “Of course. I’m proud to lead this team, ma'am.”
Raze: “And the Interpol agent....he’s an ally too?”
Erin: “Precisely.”
Raze: “What about the sword?”
Harry: “In the care of the guild. We know who the White Ninja is....will send in the details later.”
Sam: “But yes, allow us to have this holiday first....the job can come in for a bit.”
Raze: “Approved. You are now dismissed. Raze and council out.”
Once we disconnected with the leaders, we were left to our own. What a relief. There’s so much questions to ask. So much answers to be sought—-which means there are deep mysteries yet are unsolved.
I know it isn’t over yet, but I’m glad that I’ve found my brother, who I deeply miss, a boyfriend who I truly love, and my friends getting together, at full circle. The experiences of saving lives have never been better.
But I can always assure to the world, that Paladin is needed, no matter what cost or conflict there is....
We’ll be there.
Entry into kings rule customs contest basic idea is to make Sherlock Holmes figures I had actually had some of these ideas before the contest so yea basic rundown
While trying to stop Moriarty’s newest plan to blow up the city Holmes sacrifices himself to save Watson and stop the bomb, Watson blames himself and retires creating a power vacuum in London, meanwhile a time traveling Cthulhu worshipping death cult on a mission to resurrect their god retrieve a barely alive Holmes from the rubble modifying into the cyborg assassin leader of their special ops team made up of other dead people with close ties to legendary heros through out history(think winter soldier)the cult assembles an army starts retrieving necessary objects for their ritual, meanwhile a group of history’s greatest heros team up to stop the cult eventually ending them up in London near the turn of the century dragging a retired Watson into the conflict,the group continues having a last stand with the cult in the present, Watson faces robo Holmes and the cult is stopped but winning the war traps Holmes and Watson in the present putting them up against a world of new threats
From left to right
The mad Russian:a radical terrorist leader attempting to assassinate these president in the conflict losing his arm to Watson leading him on a years long revenge quest
The zodiac killer:with Holmes and Watson trapped in the present they begin solving unsolved mysteries and easily begin cracking the zodiac case the killer now a successful actor can’t have his name tarnished and comes out of retirement and hires red herons and makes fake kills trying to throw the duo off his trial
The wolf:ww1 soldier bitten by a werewolf in battle joins forces with other monsters and reeks havoc before the group is disbanded and subsequently killed nearly 100 years later Dracula awakes and gets the group back together with help from the doc reviving the old crew the begin to reek havoc once more before being stopped and forced to go on the run leading the wolf to come in conflict with Sherlock
Watson:after having lost his best friend and crime fighting partner Watson retires falling into a depression before a group of mysterious men and women show up on his doorstep asking for help not being able to turn down heros in need Watson teams up with the strangers fighting what seemed to be unstoppable cyborgs before ending up in the 21st century for a last stand realizing that the leader of the soldiers was in fact his deceased friend Watson was distraught at the sight Holmes would never do this he thought on his way to shut down the cults super weapon he runs into his old friend getting into a one on one duel with the man he’d call his brother begging him to stop the anarchy Holmes in a moment of clarity shuts down the weapon ending the battle.now stuck in the future Watson begins to reconnect with Holmes and the duo begin fighting crime once more
Cy-lock Holmes?robo Holmes?idk man:now stuck in a new world Holmes is rushed with thoughts with more questions than answers Holmes had always felt in control like the smartest person in the room but now he never knew if he’d feel that way again he had had no control for almost 5 years forced to steal and kill what if that was free will what if he wanted that he had fought his best friend assimilated several political leaders and the list went on, he wasn’t sure he deserved forgiveness especially without giving done anything to make up for it maybe he could atone for his sins help people again, he was a fast learner he could adapt to this world he would rekindle his friendship he would redeem himself
Boyardee:the step brother of the great great great grandson of Moriarty and the owner of a cheap chain of shitty Italian restaurants which are actually a money laundering scheme for his real business of dealing technologically advanced weapons
Emily Holmes:the great great great grand niece of Sherlock living in America she makes a name for herself solving mysteries that she sets up when Sherlock recruits her to help him solve a mystery he realizes that she’s a incompetent and exposes corrupt business she then devotes her life on breaking Holmes and making a mystery he can’t solve
Charles Augustus Magnussen the third:the great great great grand son of Charles Augustus Magnussen(the news paper owner from the show)having turned it into a news broadcast he spends his time complaining about Holmes and Watson(think j Jonah Jameson)
Top row
Zorro:I mean sherlock is basically a superhero so superhero team up
Moriarty:great gr-you get the point. Running organized crime with his step brother(think of Calvin and Felix from bobs burgers) Moriarty continues the family business
Agent Ron dalton:sherlocks government liaison.dalton being related to Watson is slowly back to the futured out of existence by the Changes to the time space continuum, he searches for a cure for his illness
Turn of a Friendly Card
************************************************************
Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.
Act 1
I begin my tale in the present…
That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….
It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges
As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.
But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:
*******************
I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.
I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.
I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.
He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.
It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.
The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.
I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.
I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.
As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.
Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing
I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..
I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.
Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.
So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.
But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.
I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.
I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.
The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.
And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..
With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.
When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”
So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.
Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.
Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.
*****
So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?
I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.
Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.
I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.
On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.
The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!
I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.
Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..
They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid
And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!
One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.
But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.
This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.
They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.
With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .
After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.
It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.
And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.
After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.
So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.
****************************************************************************
Act 2
So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.
As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.
The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.
I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.
I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.
That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.
It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.
I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.
I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.
It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself
I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.
The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.
But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.
I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.
It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.
But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason
I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.
I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!
I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.
I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.
About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously
The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.
Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.
Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.
We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.
I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.
The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.
She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.
But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.
With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !
What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.
Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!
I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.
So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!
The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.
Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?
And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...
I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……
Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.
The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.
As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…
No honor amongst thieves…
What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,
What will you have it be?........
To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)
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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.
Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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De Uithoflijn lijkt op 29 juli 2019 met reizigers te kunnen gaan rijden, maar vanwege diverse infrastructuurproblemen nog wel met een frequentie van 6 maal per uur in plaats van de beoogde 12 (in de spits 16) keer per uur.
Hier twee trams tijdens de dagelijkse dienstregelingtest op de Heidelberglaan
Test drives on the new tramway line in Utrecht from Central station to Science Park, seen on Heidelberglaan. Start of commercial operation is foreseen on July 29th, 2019 - with 6 trams per hour instead of the planned 12 (16 in peak hours) due to several unsolved infrastructural problems
This local "Llama Mmama" now has sort of adopted me. If I wait by her pasture, she comes to the fence and gets "up close and personal" like this. I don't think I look like a llama, but maybe I do to her. Or maybe I look like her owner. One more unsolved local mystery.
This quite large pasture usually contains several llamas and alpacas.
I don't know if they are kept e.g. for their wool, or if they are just pets.
Here is a link to my three earlier "LLama Mmama" photos, featuring close-ups of PAIRS of llamas.
www.flickr.com/search/?text=llama%20mmamas
Location: Private pasture, Autal mini-valley, Riehen BS Switzerland.
In my album: Dan Animals.
Another group of villains, this time of the "Weird Guys Wearing Expensive Suits" variety.
From left:
Sterling T. Silversmith - Terrence Sterling was first investigated by the Bat Family on account of his silver smuggling (for which he used his Gotham antiques business as a front). This was merely to fund his true intentions - a scheme to crash the digital economy and destroy the value of fiat currency.
The Eraser - Aspiring forensic scientist Lenny Fiasco flunked out of the Academy and instead wound up working for the GCPD in a different capacity, as a crime scene cleaner. He began offering his services and insider knowledge to the underworld, mopping up after some of Gotham's messier criminals and culminating in his own bumbling foray into assassination.
Gentleman Ghost - In 1979, a GCPD raid killed pimp and money launderer Jim "The Gentleman" Craddock. For reasons known perhaps only to those with a connection to the arcane, Craddock's spirit never left the earthly realm and returned sporadically to seek vengeance on the GCPD. His continued existence remained an urban legend and his crimes themselves unsolved, until Batman (with the assistance of Hawkman and Hawkgirl) found a means to banish him.
Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch was a prominent neuroscientist prior to his mental breakdown, which some Arkham doctors have partially blamed on his experiments with mind control and remote viewing. Insane, deluded, and obsessed with the works of Lewis Carroll, Tetch would use his technology to hypnotize citizens and make them take part in his psychedelic tea parties.
Great White Shark - Warren White was a financial analyst at a Gotham investment firm. Caught embezzling millions from the company's pension fund, White incredulously pled insanity to avoid a long stint in Blackgate. Hated by the public more than any costumed criminal, the judge humored his plea with a twist: an indefinite incarceration at the Arkham Institute. The other patients did not take kindly to the presence of their "new fish", disfiguring his face and slowly driving him truly insane. As the Great White Shark, Warren eventually escaped from Arkham and began to work his way up the ladder of organised crime.
Mr. Combustible - A humanoid entity seemingly composed of gas, Mr. Combustible (real name unknown) was a prospective member of The Penguin's gang during his war with Black Mask's False Face Syndicate. There was only room for one top-hatted criminal in Cobblepot's crew, and his time in the Iceberg Lounge proved to be short-lived - with Mr. Combustible himself proving combustible indeed.
PART 5. (Yes, you really do need to start at the beginning...)
The final, and most serious issue that has come under scrutiny in the wake of the McDonald shooting, is the so-called Code of Silence among rank and file officers. This is a problem that's not unique to police officers.
If you are a member of any group, you will be inclined to view the actions of any member of that group in a more favorable light than you'd view identical behavior by someone who belongs to a different group. It's human nature.
The lack of cooperation police get from the African American community when investigating gang violence, is a very similar Code of Silence. Violating that particular code by cooperating with a police investigation can indeed have serious repercussions. In fact, it can get you killed.
Of the 468 homicide victims in 2015, eight were justifiable homicides by CPD officers. The other 460 were civilians killed by other civilians, and in most of those homicides, both victim and offender were African American.
The anti-police movement does not want to focus on the 460, they only want to focus on African Americans who were shot and killed by White Police Officers. They also don't want to focus on the Code of Silence within the African American community, allowing the vast majority of those homicides to go unsolved, and allowing those murderers to kill again and again.
The anti-police movement and its partners in the media simply blame police for not solving more homicides, because they "do not have the trust of the community..."
Nevertheless, while recognizing that the Code of Silence is inevitable to some degree, officers of all ranks must be encouraged to do the right thing at all times, and any officers who significantly misrepresented what they had seen during the Laquan McDonald shooting - in order to shield a fellow officer from the full weight of the law - will need to be disciplined. It's too bad, because these are the officers who had done everything right prior to the arrival of Jason Van Dyke, and now they may face serious disciplinary action because their statements don't jive with the video.
In my view, as a former insider who now watches events unfold on television and the internet, the real problem is considerably higher up on the departmental ladder.
Every now and then, the Department throws the book at an officer for some infraction or another, and we get the usual stump-speech about "rotten apples" and the need to save the rest of the barrel.
I'd like to know what happened as the Laquan McDonald video made its way up the chain of command. Our new interim Superintendent has stated publicly that he saw the video within 48 hours of the shooting, in his capacity as head of the Detective division. And what did he do after seeing that video? Apparently nothing of consequence.
You'd think that one of the grown-ups would have rounded up the officers who had given such blatantly contradictory statements about the McDonald shooting, and said "Hey guys, nice try, but this shit ain't gonna fly. Now tell us what really happened." Apparently no one did.
If there is such a thing as a watch-dog within the Department, it is Internal Affairs. It is their job to ferret out those proverbial rotten apples and take appropriate action. Yet, according to the media, the head of Internal Affairs responded to the video by emailing other departments of city government to keep an eye out for any freedom-of-information requests for the Laquan McDonald video, and to let him know right away...
Things like that tell me that the real problem was not the statements of a handful of patrolmen. The problem was that someone high up in city government made the decision that justice should be obstructed, or at least delayed, in order to hold on to their own job and save their own reputation.
If no one ever got their hands on the video, then no harm would have come to any city employees. On the other hand, if the video were to get out and ignite a firestorm, then any patrolmen who might have perjured themselves would make for convenient scapegoats. They could then be disciplined or prosecuted to appease the public and the media.
Whatever will happen to the individuals involved - from Jason Van Dyke up to the Mayor - may take years to play out. I am more concerned about the Department, the law enforcement profession, and the future of Chicago as a world-class city. The demonstrations by the anti-police movement continue - although on a much smaller scale - and the "Only Black Lives Matter" movement continues to spout its nonsense, while violent criminals all over Chicago are emboldened by what they perceive to be a "neutered" Chicago Police Department.
Homicide figures for January of 2016, are nearly double last year's figures, and illegal gun seizures are down because of "reforms" that have been imposed on rank and file officers.
Now the media, which has profited by hyping the "White cops vs. African Americans" storyline, is wagging its collective finger once again, this time accusing police officers of sabotaging the city's revised crime-fighting methodology.
Apparently, no one in the media is aware of the new Investigative Stop Reporting requirements. The new ISR form replaces the Contact Card, which served the same purpose: to document who you stopped and why. That Contact Card had a total of 27 boxes that needed to be filled in. The new ISR form has 95 boxes to be filled in or checked on one side and 47 on the other, plus a half-page narrative section. All that information has to be provided for each person you stop.
If officers stop two cars with four occupants each, or clear two groups of gangbangers from their corner, those officers are done for the day. Assignments these officers are unable to handle because they are tied up filling out ISR forms, will be pushed off on other cars in their sector.
At the same time, citizens who previously would have been allowed to continue on their way after five minutes, must now be detained for the 45 to 60 minutes it may take to fill out a single ISR, all because the ACLU - the self-appointed guardians of liberty - have decided they need all that information on each and everyone of us to make sure that cops are not unlawfully detaining people.
No matter how you slice it, there's only so much officers can do in an 8-hour shift, and, if you triple or quadruple the paperwork requirements for each and every person who is stopped, the net result will be fewer suspicious persons stopped, fewer assignments handled, or both: you do the math.
There's no need to look for sinister plots to sabotage the city's efforts to reduce crime: this is why there were fewer guns recovered, and this is why there were more homicides compared to last year... Fewer guns taken off the street, more homicides, the two go hand in hand.
People who are stopped by police and forced to endure the entire ISR process, are going to be even more poised off with police: they're not going to complain about the ACLU, they're going to bitch about the cops, and the next time an officer motions for them to come over to his squad car, they're going to run like jackrabbits. Then the cops are going to chase them,... and those are precisely the type of situations that can have tragic consequences. Yes, those ISR-forms will be the gifts that keep on giving...
The times, they are definitely a-changing. Police officers are expected to stop the most violent crime wave since the Crack Wars of the early 90's, and now they are told to avoid confrontation, and to retreat when they are challenged. At the same time, civilians with concealed carry permits are ready to step into the breach and take the law into their own hands. What could possibly go wrong, right?
I never did buy into the NRA's interpretation of the Second Amendment, but their vision may yet be realized.
The way I read the Second Amendment, our Founding Fathers intended to give men of property the right to carry a flintlock rifle. There is no mention of a Glock 17 with a 30-round clip. Yet, through a sustained, sophisticated campaign, the NRA has managed to convince the political elite that everyone needs to carry a firearm at all times, because you can not count on the police to come in time to save your ass. Along the way, they have betrayed those same Founding Fathers they love to quote, by driving home the message that you do not need a firearm to help defend your government, but to use that weapon against your own government.
Big city police officers have traditionally opposed concealed carry by civilians, which poses a considerable risk to police officers. Now that Concealed Carry has become the law of the land, and the backlash against law enforcement is in full swing, we are on the verge of creating a society in which the Black Gangster Disciples, the Latin Kings, and thousands of other street gangs across the United States will be the closest thing we have to a 'well-regulated militia."
Right now, Chicago cops have circled the wagons and are trying to do their job as best they can in a decidedly hostile environment. The media, undaunted, continues to run negative stories wherever and whenever they can find them. After a solid two-month barrage of anti-police stories and interviews around the basic premise that Chicago Police Officers are untrustworthy - among other things - they have just conducted a new poll with truly shocking results: they have found that a majority of Chicagoans do not trust the police!
I must say, I am truly shocked. I don't know what we'd do without you guys fighting for truth and justice. Be sure to give yourselves another award...
Legend of Ruth Colbath is a NH legend based on New Hampshire's Kancamagus Highway in Carroll County NH.
Living along what is now called the Kancamagus Scenic Byway (Kancamagus Highway) in New Hampshire were the Colbath's. One night in 1891, Ruth Colbath's husband Thomas left the family farm to run errands. Thomas Colbath never returned that night. For 39 years, Ruth Colbath waited for her beloved husband. She missed him so much that she kept an oil lamp burning in the window, hoping for his return.
Ruth Colbath died in 1930, at the age of 80. Three years after Ruth died, Thomas returned. Thomas offered no explanation for where he had been for the past 39 years. Thomas Colbath claimed he wandered away and was too embarrassed to return and admit he was lost.
It is now thought by some that Thomas Colbath may have suffered from what we now know as Alzheimers.
Today, the Russell-Colbath House is a registered historic site and owned by the US Forestry Service. It is open to the public, tours are given daily in season by volunteers.
"The Ghosts of the Bloody Pit"
The East Portal of the Hoosac Tunnel, Massachusetts
September 18th, 2016
Excellent write up by History and Hauntings of America
The tunnel was one of the greatest undertakings of the region and work was started on it in 1851. It was not finished for almost 25 years! During that period, hundreds of miners, using mostly black powder, shovels, picks and their own hands, fought against the unyielding rock of Hoosac Mountain. By the time the tunnel was finally finished, more than 200 men had died in what came to be known as the “Bloody Pit”. They died in fires, explosions, tunnel collapses and in one case, by the hand of another. It would be the cold-blooded murder that occurred in 1865 that would give the tunnel its reputation for ghosts.
It was during that year that the explosive known as nitroglycerin was introduced to America. The construction crew of the Hoosac Tunnel would have the honor of being among the first crews to use it. On the afternoon of March 20, 1865, three explosive experts named Ned Brinkman, Billy Nash and Ringo Kelley decided to use nitro to continue their work on the tunnel. They placed a charge and then ran back toward a safety bunker that would shield them from the effects of the blast. Brinkman and Nash never made it there however. For some reason, Ringo Kelley set off the charge before the other men could make it to shelter. The two men were buried alive under tons of rock.
Soon after the accident, Kelley vanished without a trace, leading many to believe that the “accident” with the nitro may not have been an accident after all. He was not seen again until March 30, 1866... when his body was discovered two miles inside of the tunnel. It was found at almost the exact spot where Brinkman and Nash had been killed. The authorities quickly deduced that Kelley had been strangled to death. Deputy Sheriff Charles F. Gibson estimated that he had been murdered between midnight and 3:30 AM that morning. The death was thoroughly investigated but no suspects were ever found and the crime went unsolved.
And while the authorities determined that no killer could be find, the construction workers had their own ideas about who had killed Ringo Kelley. According to the rumors and whispers, they believed that Kelley had been killed by the vengeful spirits of Brinkman and Nash. They came to feel that the tunnel was cursed and many of them refused to enter it again. Some of the crew members walked off the job and did not return. The dark and brooding place, with the deep shadows and dripping water, became known as a shunned one. It was best avoided most believed, slowing the construction of the tunnel down even more.
In 1868, the construction site was toured by Paul Travers, a mechanical engineer and a respected cavalry officer during the Civil War. He had received a letter from a Mr. Dunn of the construction company, who had asked him to come and examine the tunnel. Apparently, the workers “complained constantly of hearing a man’s voice cry out in agony” and needless to say, refused to enter the half-completed tunnel after sundown. Dunn was convinced that the strange sounds were nothing more than winds sweeping off the mountainside but despite his assurances, work had slowed down so drastically that he had contacted Paul Travers to investigate the matter.
Travers and Dunn went out to the site on September 8 and the former military officer did not soon forget when he encountered there. He later wrote a letter to his sister and told her about the weird experience: “Dunn and I entered the tunnel at exactly 9:00 PM. We traveled about two miles into the shaft and then we stopped to listen. As we stood there in the cold silence, we both heard what truly sounded like a man groaning out in pain. As you know, I have heard this same sound many times during the war. Yet, when we turned up our the wicks on our lamps, there were no other human beings in the shaft except Mr. Dunn and myself. I’ll admit I haven’t been this frightened since Shiloh. Mr. Dunn agreed that it wasn’t the wind we heard. Perhaps Nash and Brinkman.... I wonder?”
A month after Travers’ investigation, on October 17, the worst disaster to occur in the tunnel’s history took place. A gas explosion blew apart the water pumping station on the surface and 13 miners were killed when debris filled the central tunnel where they had been working. A reporter for the North Adams Transcript wrote that a miner named Mallery was lowered in a bucket into the shaft. He was told to look for any sign of survivors. He was brought back to the surface a few minutes later, nearly unconscious from the fumes inside. “No hope....” he managed to gasp out to the rescue team.
Without the pumping station, the 538-foot shaft filled with water. The bodies of some of the dead crew members grotesquely began to surface. More than a year after the disaster, the last of them were found. The missing miners and the macabre discovery of the bodies created stories and legends in the surrounding area.
Glenn Drohan, the correspondent who had first written about the accident for the Transcript wrote: “During the time the miners were missing, villagers told strange tales of vague shapes and muffled wails near the water-filled pit. Workmen claimed to see the lost miners carrying picks and shovels through a shroud of mist and snow on the mountaintop. The ghostly apparitions would appear briefly, then vanish, leaving no footprints in the snow, giving no answer to the miner’s calls.”
As soon as the last of the bodies were found and given a decent burial though, Drohan stated, the bizarre visitations ceased. These dead men had apparently found rest but some of the victims of the “Bloody Pit” had not. Even after the apparitions stopped appearing, the eerie moanings in the tunnel continued and the men remained terrified.
Based on the account of a Dr. Clifford J. Owen, the haunting also began to take on other characteristics as well. Owens came to the tunnel on a night in June 1872 and was accompanied by James R. McKinstrey, a drilling operations superintendent. There is no information to suggest why the two men came to the tunnel on the last night of June 25, but one might guess that it was in search of the ghosts who allegedly haunted the shaft. If this was the purpose of their trip, then the journey was apparently a successful one!
The two men traveled about two miles into the tunnel and then halted to rest. There was no light in the shaft, save for their dim lamps, and Owens later described the tunnel as being “as cold and as dark as a tomb.” The two of them stood there talking for a few minutes and then they heard a strange and mournful sound. It sounded to Owens like someone in great pain.
He then goes on to write: “The next thing I saw was a dim light coming along the tunnel in a westerly direction. At first, I believed that it was probably a workman with a lantern. Yet, as the light grew closer, it took on a strange blue color and appeared to change in shape into the form of a human being with no head.”
The light moved closer to the two men and was so close that they could almost touch it. It remained motionless, as though watching them, then hovered off toward the east end of the tunnel and vanished. Owens and McKinstrey were understandably stunned and Owens later wrote that while he was “above all a realist” and that he was not “prone to repeating gossip and wild tales that defy a reasonable explanation” he was unable to “deny what James McKinstrey and I witnessed with our own eyes.”
Strangeness continued at the Hoosac Tunnel both shortly before and after it opened to admit trains to pass through it. On October 16, 1874 a local hunter named Frank Webster vanished near Hoosac Mountain. Three days later, he was found by a search party, stumbling along the banks of the Deerfield River. He was in a state of shock, mumbling incoherently and falling down. He explained to his rescuers that strange voices had ordered him into the Hoosac Tunnel and once he was inside, he saw ghostly figures wandering around. He also said that invisible hands had snatched his hunting rifle away from him and that he had been beaten with it. He couldn’t remember leaving the tunnel. Members of the search party recalled that Webster did not have his rifle when he was found and the cuts and abrasions on his head and body did seem to bear evidence of a beating.
Later that same year, with the tunnel headings completed, workmen removed rocks from the tunnel and began grading the line and laying track. On February 9, 1875, the first train went through the tunnel, pulling three flatcars and a boxcar. A group of 125 people had come along for the ride. According to the news stories about the event, North Adams had just become the “Western Gateway” to the rest of New England. But this was not enough to stop the strange stories from being told.
In the fall of 1875, a fire tender on the Boston & Maine rail line named Harlan Mulvaney was taking a wagon load of wood into the tunnel. He had gone just a short distance into the shaft when he suddenly turned his team around, whipped the horses and drove them madly out of the tunnel. A few days later, workers found the team and the wagon in the forest about three miles away from the tunnel. Harlan Mulvaney was never seen or heard from again!
The stories continued for years, creating believers from those who worked there, passed through or spent much time about the tunnel. One former railroad employee, Joseph Impoco, worked the Boston & Maine for years. He firmly believed that the tunnel was haunted but he was not afraid of the place. In fact, he credited the resident ghosts with saving his life on two separate occasions. On one afternoon, he was shipping away ice from the tracks when he heard a distinct voice telling him to “run, Joe, run!”
He looked back and saw a train bearing down on him! “Sure enough, there was No. 60 coming at me. Boy, did I jump back fast!” He looked around for whoever had called out his name, but there was no one else nearby. Later, he would recall that he had distinctly heard the voice before the train had appeared. He also added that he had seen a man pass by, waving and swinging a torch, but he hadn’t paid attention to anything but the shout. The voice, wherever it had come from, had saved his life.
Six weeks after the incident, Impoco was again working on the tracks. This time, he was using a heavy iron crow bar to free some fright cars that had been frozen on the tracks. He was prying at one of the steel wheels when he heard the loud, familiar voice again call out to him. “Joe! Joe! Drop it, Joe!” the voice called frantically. Impoco immediately released the bar and it was instantly jolted and thrown against the tunnel wall by more than 11,000 volts of electricity! The charge came from a short-circuited overhead power line. The unseen friend has saved Joe’s life again.
A short time later, Impoco left his job and began working out of the area. Every year though, he would return to the Hoosac Tunnel and pay a sort of “homage” to the ghost who saved his life. He was certain that if he failed to do this one year, some tragedy would befall him. In 1977, Impoco’s wife was ill and rather than go to visit the tunnel, he stayed home with her. In October of that year, she died. Joe believed that her death was connected to his failure to journey to the Hoosac Tunnel.
Throughout the 1970’s and the 1980’s, the tunnel began to be investigated by ghost hunters and paranormal groups who had heard of the long history of hauntings. In 1976, a researcher from Agawam, Massachusetts claimed to come face-to-face with one of the local denizens. He described the figure of a man in old-fashioned work clothing, backlit against a brilliant white light. Could it have been the same ghost seen by Owens and McKinstrey in 1872?
A professor and part-time ghost hunter named Ali Allmaker had what she felt was a close encounter in the tunnel. She wrote that she was accompanied to the tunnel by a railroad official in 1984 and while there, had the uncomfortable sensation of someone standing close to her. She also stated that several students from North Adams State College visited the tunnel one night and left a tape recorder running in the shaft. They left it there and when they returned and listened to the tape, they heard what seemed to be muffled human voices on the tape.
The stories about the “Bloody Pit” still continue to be told today. Locals in the area still claim that strange winds, ghostly apparitions and eerie voices are experienced around and in the daunting tunnel. Visitors who journey to this site today however risk becoming one of the resident ghosts themselves. The Boston & Maine Railroad still runs nearly a dozen freight trains through the tunnel each day, making this a trip that is definitely on the dangerous side! If you’re interested in the historical aspects of the tunnel though, you can visit a museum that is dedicated to the site in the Western Gateway Heritage State Park.
But if you are interested in the ghosts, I recommend that you tread lightly here. The spirits of the past are still reported to linger and dark shadows press tightly on every side. Perhaps the Mohawk Indians were right. They named this place Hoosac Mountain, which in their language means “forbidden”. Did they know something about this place that the builders of the tunnel did not?
Sources and Bibliography:
Hauck, Dennis William - Haunted Places: The National Directory (1996)
Drake, Samuel Adams -New England Legends and Folklore (1910)
Norman, Michael & Beth Scott - Historic Haunted America (1995)
Allmaker, Ali - Local Haunts (Berkshire Eagle) (1984)
Yankee Magazine (1973)
Chronicles of lifting Light B (Bridesmaids)
The alternate version of Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)- Album
“ The wedding was a little over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honor wore a red satin version; midnight black satin was selected for the 6 bridesmaids.”
“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. She pointed out to me an actress ( Emma Watson at the premier for NOAH) , That’s M’gown she exclaimed with enthusiasm, you remember, The ones your sister and I first wore for “Shiela’s” brides party, the one where your sister thought she had been ro… but she broke it off as something caught her attention on the telly.”
“Squirrel I thought, as Sam and I both looked. It was a black satin gown very strikingly similar in colour, cut, and material ( but Ginny’s version lacked a dangling train behind) to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at thier chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny wearing it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would most likely never encounter…….”
Chronicles of lifting Light B
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This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened, but in writing it down for the first time ever I found I could not resist the temptation to embellish and expand some of the scenarios. It makes for a much better story I believe.
It is long, so here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed into service.
At the reception Ginny made a comment about the flimsy clasps on the longish rhinestone earrings they were wearing. My sister, touching an earring, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. I wasn’t sure what was going on in my sister’s head that made her come out with that reply. But as I watched her pull at an earring, a seed was planted in my head about something I myself had seen in an old TV show (An episode that first wakened an interest in pickpocketing).
Much later that evening found Brian and I alone, and a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). I had been enjoying watching our girls on the dance floor. “Ginny” was dancing a slow dance with the brides Groom ( an awkward chap with the sometimes unfortunate name of Cecil), Sis was dancing with some boorish banker bloke whose name I choose not to remember. As I watched the girl’s swishing gowns move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the manner in which their display of jewels were sparkling. Not being able to shake Ginny’s earlier comment, nor its answer, out of my head, my mind began to drift and wander in some very deep waters; pulled about in some strong personal currents.
Suddenly, I had an epiphany, and I started to tell Brian about the show that had vexed me all these years past. It was an old Gilligan’s Island episode ( The Kidnapper). Ginger was dancing in formal wear with the thief they were trying to reform. He lifted up her long hair, exposing these long diamonded earrings she was wearing. When he let her hair back down, gone went Ginger’s diamond Earrings.( he also nicked another ladies diamond necklace in a similarly devious fashion).
I had been thinking about it, and saw that this may be a prime opportunity to try and mimic what I had found so intriguing in my younger day’s ( is what happened to Ginger possible in real life?) and so I drew Brian’s attention to where my sister was dancing and intentionally pointed out her healthy collection of rhinestones ( the lot of matching sets the bride had picked out for her girls to wear with their silky gowns was a bit overkill in Brian’s opinion, a view not shared by me).
I decided then to plant my own seed, so I questioned out loud if it was possible to pickpocket jewelry in the manner the thief in Gilligan’s Island had so cunningly carried out? We discussed it for bit, ending the friendly dispute that ensued by daring that the other couldn’t pull it off. I focused on my sister, because I figured that would be more of a tantalizing bait to dangle in front of Brian, who was horribly smitten with her, and I was right on the money! So my twin sister in the black satin gown and her rhinestones ended up being the preferred guinea pig for the goad.
Brian lost the toss and danced with her first,( happily cutting in on the banker fella) and was surprisingly as successful as he was swift. I watched as he swirled sis around the dance floor. For such a gig guy, “Brian” is surprisingly light on his feet, which is why in school he was an outstanding rugby player. I was watching eagerly, trying to guess what he was going after. His large hands began inching down her satin gown’s sleeves, so I was sure he was going for one of her dangling rhinestone bracelets.
He must have said something funny, for my sister raised her head back laughing, her long straight hair falling charmingly back, baring her throat to him. Brian’s hands moved back up, and in behind her throat. Then in a manner quite graceful for fingers that large, unclasped and slipped away the thin necklace from around her sweat glistened throat and pocketed it before she had finished her spurt of laughter. The song soon ended, and the pair of ‘em came back, Brian with a very smug grin on his bearded mug. He then took “Ginny” (who had just rejoined us after shaking off a seedy looking bloke who had wanted her to dance) by the hand and led her off dancing, his eyes taunting me to make my attempt.
Not to be outdone, I immediately led Sis back onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath. We danced to a rather Latin type beat. My sister turned her backside into me, and sort of did this gyrating move up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head. As her warm, sweaty figure, slipped up and down slickly against mine, I looked things over, deciding on which of her remaining jewelry to target.
I started by placing my hands at her waist and let them slither up the silky sides of her satin gown, as I made my choice, one of her shimmering bracelets that were winking at me from her wrists waving above my head. With the prize within my grasp, I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I moved my hands to her shoulders , with the thought bring down her arms in order to work my fingers down her gowns’ sleeve, where just below would be lying my objective. But just as I did, Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her head back on my shoulder and closing her eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. Her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there, like Gingers, ripe for the picking.
Without really putting any thought into it, I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ears, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled. The rest of the maneuver was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the pair of em in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauties came away from her sweaty ears as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held them in one fist for a bit, relishing in my success, before securing them away. We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that she was innocently unaware that her shiny earrings were now in her dance partners vest pocket.
But, not willing to be satisfied with the initial success of our experiment, we found that the dares kept coming out. Becoming so competitive between us, that by the time we left for the evening, the score was 5 pieces of jewelry to 4, with Brian winning the bragging rights, and my sister out all of the rhinestone pieces she had started out wearing about on her person.
Of course this is sounding like a masterful bit of pickpocketing, but our efforts were aided by keeping our pretty victim plied with alcohol ( wondering all the while if that is a technique is used by pickpockets working over their victims in real life?). Using that as an edge; another turn on the dance floor, a compliment induced hug, and the victim falling into deep sleep in a lounge armchair, enabled us vultures to eventually part my twin from all of her sparkling jewelry.
Also, as a side note here, all four of us had a discussion later about what it said of us as a society that none outside our group seemed to notice or bother pointing out to my sister about her slowly disappearing baubles!
We left the reception well after midnight and started walking the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself. As were making our way through a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small, isolated clearing and circling around her ,finally asked my sister about her missing jewels. Her reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.
Her startled response was to the effect of: “Gasping, My God” as she fruitlessly felt about for them, her rustling gown glistened dark in the moon light. “My jewels, where did they go!, who took them, I’ve been robbed, mugged?” she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, and upon noticing that Ginny was still adorned with her jewels, Sis froze with the realization that we had all been up to something no good. As the silliness of her conjectures came home, she blushed, and told us to spill it out.
Here, we had all thought she had eventually caught on to what we had been up to all evening and was just humoring us, but in reality she had been utterly clueless. Ginny ( who had soon caught on to our little game but played dumb) was merciless in her teasing of my sister, rubbing it all in as she helped my twin place back on the Rhinestones that Brian and I dug from our pockets. I didn’t add any fuel to the fire, but I noticed that when Sis had uttered the word mugged, Ginny had automatically held onto her necklace and pendent!
Sis ended up taking it all with her usual good humor, or so we thought.
This next bit is my favorite.
We went up to the boys room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked a bit. About two hours later found Brian passed out on the couch, and me sitting next to him in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto a beer. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of me, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the swaying of their long glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.
Ginny started giggling at one of sis jokes, and turned her figure so the brooch at the center of her gowns’ waistline almost hit me on the nose. Half asleep I reached up and lifted it. Looking up at the girls I saw that Ginny was paying no never mind towards me, my sister however, did notice (this is why I like the Sonia clip) and she laid a hand on Ginny’s shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper a secret. I was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I held it up to my sister’s hand, which closed over it, and then she turned and plopped down next to me on the couch.
We both started talking to Ginny, now standing in front of us, as if nothing was going on. Puzzled I waited for my sister to flaunt the brooch in Ginny’s face. Instead, as she got Ginny into another giggling fit, she leaned over and whispered the word pendant in my ear, her hand holding out her own for added emphasis. I knew then she had thought up some grand plan.
Now wide awake, I got into fully my sister’s game. As I watched the giggling Ginny, my eyes took careful inventory of all her finer points (not just her jewels I will admit) . Now role playing that I was a professional pickpocket, and my twin was the spotter, pointing out whose jewels were worth taking. Ginny stopped, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me, as I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up. I was imagining that all of Ginny’s collection of rhinestones was real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief after her lovely sparklers.
Thinking for a moment, I rose to my feet, and feeling like the real thing, I took Ginny’s hand and led her across to the window the couch was facing. We were on the 14th floor with a grand sweeping view of the great cities skyline. I asked her if she knew what the pink lights were about (there were no pink lights) and as she looked and kept asking where, I saw in the windows reflection that behind me my sister was pinning Ginny’s brooch onto the Brian’s passed out figure. Smiling, I got to the task at hand.
Using my hands I got Ginny to bend over more to help in her search, watching her dangling “diamond “ chain with its’ oval “diamond” pendent swinging an enticingly beckoning reflection in the window. I reached around with one hand and easily undid the clasp to poor befuddled Ginny’s chain. Using the pendants reflection in the window as a focal point, I subtly lowered my other hand underneath it, and as I caught it, let go of the chain. Pendent and chain slithered into a nice little pile in my palm, which I immediately closed up around it, hiding it from my victim’s possible notice.
I turned and nodded to my sister, who rose, tipsily, and slinked across the room to us. She brushed up against me with the pretense of seeing what we were up to. I felt her arm go around my waist, and handed Ginny’s necklace off. Sis than circled around us, giving Ginny a squeeze, and looked at me meaningfully, her fingers brushing an earring. She went back to the couch and began draping the shimmery chain and pendent on poor Brian.
A slow song had been playing, so I told Ginny to no never mind pink lights, and taking her hand, asked “madameswell” if she cared to dance. I tried it in an accent, failed miserably, and got Ginny to giggling as she accepted. I lead her the long way around the couch to where we had cleared out a little bit of a dancing floor. As I took her into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my intentions. Innocently unaware, that in indifference to my sisters words earlier, someone did now want to nick the earrings so merrily sawing from her ears.
I bided my time, appearing to look into Ginny’s eyes, my mind was working on something else. When I made my first move it was as subtle as could be, and it paid off. Raising me hand, I lifted her hair above an ear, and an let my fingers run back down through. One of her earrings vanished into my hand, and reaching around, was neatly tossed into another. As my sister placed it on Brian’s ear,( by now he was looking quite comical, and it was all we could do to keep from bursting out laughing), I leaned in and whispered something into Ginny’s now bare ear, while my other hand reached around and plucked the other earring away, and tossed the sparkler gracefully over to my sisters waiting hands.
Needing no more direction from sis now that I knew her plan ( It was her way of getting back at Brian for our game, and at Ginny for her teasing, it never occurred to me to wonder what my punishment would be!), I carried on alone.
Employing the same method that the thief had used in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment Ginny on how devastating she looked ( no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back until I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering row of single “diamonds”. Lifted it up as she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, holding her ever so her tightly around the waist with my free hand, I unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over one shoulder. Ginny never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I slipped it off her chest and over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I was close enough to neatly toss her necklace over the couch to my waiting partner in crime.
Sis was waiting, and as the necklace sailed over the couch, I saw her raise a hand, and pull at one of her rings. How?, I mouthed, and she held up a finger motioning me to wait a sec. I continued to dance with Ginny, who was growing ever heavier in my arms, as sis placed the necklace around poor Brian’s throat.
I watched as me twin got up and passed us , her satin gown whispering as she walked, heading to get a beer from the fridge. She stood for a moment then gave me a signal to twirl our victim around.
I lifted her hand, and spun Ginny around in a pirouette . The poor thing, already more than a little tipsy, fell hard against me, giggling. I did it again, and as she stared to lose her balance, my sister walked past and faking a trip, bumped into Ginny and both girl’s went down in a heap of black swishing satin. As I bent over to help the pair of giggling dolls untangle, I manage to slip off a ring off from over the sweaty knuckles of Ginny’s left pinky finger.
I helped them both up, and as my sister helped straighten Ginny’s gown while giggling over the incident, Ginny placed her hands behind her back, exposing her bracelets. I pocketed the ring, and moving up against Ginny from behind, attempted to remove the first “Diamond” bracelet from around her wrist. It came away with absolutely no resistance, or notice, and I moved off, and went to stand next to my sister, hands crossed behind me back. She put her arm around me, hugging me against her, I felt her fingers go to my hand, and I opened my fingers and let her take the ring and bracelet. Keeping her fist closed, she coolly left us, retrieving her unopened beer from the floor, and headed back smoothly to the couch.
I will admit I was now getting overly confident. I asked Ginny if she wanted a beer and we went over to the kitchenette to get them. As we walked, I placed my hands on her slick waist and led her there, as she giggled tipsily the whole way. I held the door open, and as she was bending down to get them, she laid her arm along the top of the drawer. I then made my seventh attempt, on her other “Diamond” bracelet
I had undone the clasp, and was getting ready to take it when I made the fatal error at looking over her shoulder at the couch. My sister was inwardly laughing at her handiwork, and to see a person like Brien, who takes his masculinity with pride, now decked out like some bearded floozy, was too much. I chuckled, and the bracelet fell, clanking against the door, landing at Ginny’s feet. I was caught red handed and my attempt at any more thievery was thwarted. Ginny smirked; here now lad, don’t try yer games on me.
Behind her, Ginny head my sister snort, and looking at my smirk, demanded to know what we had found so funny. So I grabbed her, spun her around, and led her back around the couch until she caught sight of the still snoring Brian! We both joined my sister in busting a gut laughing. Then, come to find that poor innocent Ginny thought that it was my sister’s rhinestones plastered all over poor Brian. When we pointed out the errors of her conclusion, it was my sister’s turn to laugh and tease the poor girl over her dumbfounded expression as now it was her hands failing to find her missing pieces of jewelry. Then Brian woke and he became the new center of the joke.
Ginny had reclaimed her rhinestones and had disappeared into the ladies room to replace them to their rightful perch and rejoin in with their remaining companions, which I thought, being so late, why bother? And Brain and Sis were on the couch still teasing the other. Suddenly I felt a hand softly placed on my shoulder, and looking up found myself trapped in a “come hither” look, emanating from Ginny’s twinkling green eyes, a look that I have come since to know very well.
We left the pair of gigglers on the couch, and went out into the evening, just the two of us, meeting nary another living soul at that early morning hour. The only exceptions were a weary desk clerk with a nose buried in her book, and a curious short blue-haired lady wearing a grey pant-suit, carrying a large handbag, who came upon Ginny in the lobby, while I was absent using its restroom . The odd thing here is, that until I showed up after doing my business, the lady appeared to be trying to lead good hearted Ginny outside to help search for some lost keys or such, at 2:30 Am! I suggested her to wait until light.
After managing to pry Ginny away, receiving the now disapproving look from purse –lipped blue haired lady for my efforts, we otherwise were not held up in our progress. The world was now ours, as my richly attired lady and her tuxedoed (handsome?)Escort made their journey together hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial park, and reentering the same isolated, secret clearing, proceeded to acting out our own role playing game, ala the movie “to Catch a Thief”, complete with fireworks of our own making.
And I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I left our room and rode the elevator down. And why not, I ask? Cause now , not only was I out strolling about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, but I had totally creamed Brian’s score in the jewelry lifting department, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, isn’t it?
So ends my story, of which I have written 2 versions.
My question is now this:
Which version, if one reads both, do you believe to be the truer?
Please leave a comment at the end of the story you believe is..
In appreciation,
Thank You
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In Appraisal
This story may be unique in its nature, but if not we would love to hear about it. Please leave a comment or drop an email ( or both) about you own experience.
Thank You
The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommended viewing)
youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk
Ps. Check out Chronicles of lifting light C for a less embellished telling this particular event
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A phantom bell boy, murdered prostitutes, and a booze-loving criminal are just a few of the ghosts said to haunt the Hotel Monte Vista in Flagstaff, AZ. In fact, John Wayne himself encountered a spirit at the 87-year-old landmark. Here’s the story behind the hotel’s infamous haunting.
History
Built in 1927, the Monte Vista boasted over 70 rooms and was the tallest building in Flagstaff. The hotel also harbored the city’s most popular speakeasy before the end of Prohibition as well as the only slot machines ever operated within city limits. Celebrity guests throughout the years include Humphrey Bogart, Clark Gable, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, and John Wayne, among others. However, it’s the Monte Vista’s more permanent guests that make the hotel famous among paranormal enthusiasts.
John Wayne and the Phantom Bell Boy
The legend of the phantom bell boy is perhaps Monte Vista’s most famous ghost tale. Legend has it the ghostly boy will knock on doors and call out “room service.” However, when puzzled guests open the door no one is around.
Other guests have seen the bell boy standing outside Room 210, also known as the Zane Grey Suite. According to the hotel’s website, actor John Wayne saw the bell boy ghost during a stay at the Monte Vista. He reportedly felt at ease around the spirit and thought it seemed friendly.
Another famous legend involves a trio of men who robbed a Flagstaff bank and decided to celebrate at the Monte Vista Lounge. One of the men had been shot in the robbery and bled out in the hotel’s lounge. Now, the robber’s ghost allegedly appears to guests in the form of a hazy mist. Drinks and bar stools also move on their own.
The robbery allegedly occurred in 1970, so it should be easy to verify the robber’s unusual death. However, as far as I know, there is no official record of such an incident.
Ladies of the Night
In the early 1940s, two prostitutes paid a visit to Room 306, also known as the Gary Cooper Suite. Someone killed the women and tossed their bodies out the third-story window. Now, guests staying in Room 306 awake in the night with the eerie sensation of being watched. At times, male guests have trouble breathing and feel an unseen hand covering their mouths or throats.
According to the hotel’s website, Room 305 is the most active room at Monte Vista. Guests claim to see an old woman sitting near the window in a rocking chair, even when the room is unoccupied. Reports from staff claim the chair rocks on its own and even slides across the room. Legend has it an elderly woman was once a long-term boarder of the room and spent countless hours in the chair. Perhaps she is responsible for the strange events. Unsolved Mysteries featured the rocking chair tale in an episode of their show.
The ghosts listed above aren’t the only spirits said to roam Hotel Monte Vista. Tales of a ghostly child, a baby, a dancing couple, and an odd guest known as the meat man also surround the historic landmark. Read more stories at HotelMonteVista.com and let me know what you think.
From ghostsnghouls.com/
Huge thanks to Teddi Beres and her ginger haired friend BellaDonna Quixote for setting up the poises and allowing me free reign to use them in my story scenario. The Deed has been done;).
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Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)
The alternate version of Chronicles of lifting Light B ( Bridesmaids) - Album
“The wedding was a little over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honor wore a red silk version; the six Bridesmaids wore theirs in black satin.”
“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. Ginny pointed out to me a model who was wearing fetchingly a long black satin gown, That’s m’ gown Ginny exclaimed, you remember, the one I wore at “Sheila’s” wedding, the one where my necklace was.., But at that point her attention was diverted back to her program. Squirrel I teased as Sam and I watched with her.
It was a gown strikingly very similar in colour, cut, and material to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at a chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny sporting it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would never encounter…….”
Chronicles of lifting Light C
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This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened.
What we did may sound daft, but read and understand the circumstances, plus realize we all were pretty well lit up with drink.
I have enhanced certain aspects of the story, but not as much as on my first draft, for that one came out sounding more farfetched than it should have.
For indeed, truth can be stranger than fiction… and coincidences occur, both sweet and bitter….. as I’m sure someone once said.
So here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed, not unwillingly, into service.
At the reception my Ginny made a comment about the flimsy clasps on the rhinestone jewelry they were wearing. My Sister, touched her necklace, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. Except my ring isn’t, said Ginny looking down at the ruby ring she was wearing on her pinky. My sister, thinking a minute, retorted “Then one never knows… “ , It looked like she was going to add something, but at that point the band restarted, and we joined the swarm of fancy gowns, silky dresses, suits and tuxes heading to the dance floor.
As we headed off, I was still perplexed about what had been going on in Sis’s head that made her come out with that reply, and I swear she had stolen a look at me while saying it. But as I had watched her pull at an earring to emphasize how loose the sparkling jewel was, a seed was planted in my head about a subject I myself had always found fascinating, pickpocketing jewelry!
Much later that evening, found Brian, me sister, and I alone, and probably more than a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). As Sis and Brain chatted on about a topic I had lost interest in, I started to watch Ginny, who had been asked to dance by some twit with shifty eyes in a red silk shirt, (open colored), who had rudely cut in on us. As I watched Ginny’s swishing gown move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the manner in which her healthy display of rhinestones were sparkling about( as they had been all evening). I looked back at my sister, and her own show of jewelry, sparkling up nicely against a black satin backdrop.
Still not being able to shake me twin’s earlier comment, nor its answer, out of my head about nicking jewels, I finally chanced asking my twin about her comments. She looked at me, having to think back a bit about the question, ( As I said, we were more drunk than sober by then), placing a nicely ringed finger to her lips, while regrouping her thoughts. Got it, she exclaimed proudly remembering what had triggered her memory, and started to explain.
When she was a tyke of about 7, there was a show that she had seen on the tele that centered on this group of people trying to reform a thief. Believing that he had turned a new leaf, they threw a fancy dance for him in honor of his new ways. During the dance, he cut in and danced with each of the three ladies who had been trying to teach him the errors of his ways. From one he slipped off her long diamond earrings, from a second her diamond necklace was lifted away, but me sister was unsure what the scoundrel took from the third. Sis thought that the earrings and necklaces that she and Ginny were wearing that evening, looked a lot like the ones from that show.
Now, as me twin described the thief’s antics, certain emotions awakened, rearing their tantalizing heads; my mind began wandering in some deep waters, pulled bout by some deep personal emotions. Cause I had been sitting on the couch with her, when as quite young children, we had first seen that episode.
As it happened my sister had been outside earlier playing dress up in on of mum’s old party gowns and was still wearing it, along with a set of costume pearls. Suddenly, that day, I wanted nothing more in the world than to lift the pearls she was wearing. I simmered over it for the rest of the program, getting to the point of actually laying my arm on the back of the couch, inching my fingers towards the clasp of her pearls laying there upon the back of her throat. But then the show ended, and I got no closer to stealing anything more than a touch of a really soft old evening gown. After the show ended, I warily suggested we go back outside and play Robin Hood (my sister has always been into his story).
We did, and as Sir Robin led her to his hideout, conveniently located through a thicket of Hawthorne’s, the pretty Maid Marion’s pearls mysteriously melted away.
That is when I had I had my epiphany, hitting me like a brick wall! Waiting till sis finished her story, I pointed out to Ginny, and asked the pair, If Ginny had been the third lady he had danced with, what jewelry do you think he would have lifted from her while dancing?
Brian , always the more pragmatic of the group, snorted, that’s stuff that only happens in stories and movies. I said I would bet it can be done, a quid says I can lift a piece of Ginny’s jewelry with her never noticing. Sis chimed in, you wouldn’t dare, but she was looking at me like she knew the answer already. Brian caught her tone, and took me up on it, betting me the quid that I couldn’t get away with lifting her necklace,( I liked his choice, it had been a necklace that “Sir Robin” had first lifted from me sisters neck that day in the woods long past).
At this time the music ended, and Ginny swished back to rejoin us. We drank and talked for a bit more, and I’m was all but certain Brian and my sister had all but forgotten the wager. But I hadn’t, nor had I been able to keep my eyes from studying the rhinestones Ginny had wrapped around her pretty throat. When a slow song started up, I rose and asked Ginny to a dance. I caught Brian’s eyes, and read the dare reflecting in them, so we were still on with the wager. Leading Ginny to the dance floor, we embraced, and danced to the pretty song, a slow one. Ginny was absolute pure heaven in my arms, and I found me self so entrapped that I never made an attempt upon her lovely rhinestone necklace.
As the song was ending, I caught a look from Brian across the dance floor, noticing that he smugly was looked at Ginny’s throat. I did not want to lose me quid on principle (I swear), so as the dance ended I held onto Ginny, waiting. Soon a second song started, disappointedly a more fast paced one with a Latin beat. I spun Ginny around onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath, we danced, like the song says:
And we… danced like a wave on the ocean, romanced
We were liars in love and we danced
Swept away for a moment by chance
And we danced, danced, danced
And dance we did, hot, furious and fast. A couple of times I spun Ginny around, and the poor girl already a bit tipsy, fell against me, giggling. About the third time I spun her, she stopped, and dropped backside into me and began to do this sort of gyrating move, slithering up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head, her longish ginger hair had fallen over one shoulder, exposing her necklace in all its fine brilliance. As her warm, sweaty figure slipped up and down against mine, I watched the back of her throat, eyeing the necklace as it sparkled brilliantly in the dim lights. Studying intently the sparkly chain with it’s the hook in eye clasp.
She brought her hands down behind me back, crossing them behind me waist. My right hand went to the front of her waist, holding onto her squirming, satin slippery figure, pressing it tightly against me. My left hand went up to her shoulder, gliding along the glossy slick fabric of her black satin gown, until I reached her necklace. It only took seconds for my fingers to lift, and slip off the hook from its”eye” , letting the shimmering chain slither down the front side of Ginny’s satin clad breasts. My right hand left her waist, and travelled nimbly, tingling, all the way up the front until my fingers grasped the dangling chain. My left hand let go, and the necklace whisked down the front of her perking bosom, tightly covered by the glossy black satin bridesmaid gown. The whole bit of thievery took me only a few chords of the music, but it seemed a lot longer in the process. We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that my gyrating partner was innocently unaware that her shiny necklace was absent from around her throat, and now resided in her dance partners vest pocket.
We made our way back to the others, Brian had a smug look on his bearded face, I knew he was up to something. As I sat down, he whispered double it or nothing mate, that she notices it’s missing before we leave. I nodded, taking him up on it. So, the game was still on, and for the last two hours that we stayed at the reception, Brain waiting for Ginny to notice her missing necklace, I tried to distract her as much as I could, even with me sister constantly played with her necklace whenever she held Ginny’s attention, but the poor creature never caught on that her necklace had been lifted.
We finally left the reception after midnight and made our way along the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself. Ginny walked calmly with us, unaware of the devils that were us, keeping pace beside her. As were making our way through a short cut in a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small isolated glen and circled around Ginny. Sis was grinning as she asked poor unawares Ginny, So luv, whatever did happen to your necklace? Gin’s reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.
Ginny, a relatively innocent soul, who is prone to believing most anything told to her, started, and her hand went to her throat, feeling about fruitlessly, as her rustling glossy gown and remaining jewels glistened dark in the full moons’ light. “M’ necklace, why it’s gone? , where did it go!, she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. We than got into it, playing dumb along with her, and tried to figure out the “mystery” I said the last time I saw it was when that seedy bloke cut in, and I ran my hand up her back, feeling the shivers going down her spine, did the blighter touch you like that, then luv. No she said, then thought hard, no she repeated, he couldn’t have, he was a proper gentleman, and it was only rhinestone, like your sister said. My sister commented that the bloke may have not noticed no difference, and she held out her own necklace, I’m glad the bloke didn’t ask me to dance. No, Ginny shook her head, her long earrings flickering a frenzied fire out from her hair, no one could have lifted them like that, I’d have felt it….
She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, Ginny froze with the realization that we had all been up to something, and, then a smile of relief showed up on her pretty face, as I held up her necklace, sparkling in front of her eyes. A sly look of understanding that we had been up to something crept into those dazzling green eyes , as she told us now to spill it out.
We explained the whole tale as sis helped Ginny place her necklace back on. Ginny, with her usual good humor, said she had never noticed a thing, and it probably was a good thing we weren’t real thieves, because if her necklace had been real, it would have been worth a small fortune. And shame on us for having her believe it was that poor blighter in the red shirt.
We wouldn’t’ make very good thieves I agreed we drink too much. She just smiled, a curious gleam creeping up into those witchy green eyes of hers. Let’s get going before we meet a real thief then, urged my sister, all this talk about someone thinking our jewels are real is giving me the chills.
Our drunken little group then merrily, if not a little more guardedly, made our way home..
This next bit is my favorite.
We rode the elevator up to the boy’s room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked on a bit about the reception. The girls stayed in dress and I happily soaked up the pretty picture the pair of admirably attractive girls presented with their long sheets of straight hair just hanging down, their diamonds sparkling and all other assorted frills enticing. About two hours later found Brian and myself sitting on the couch in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto our beers. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of us, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the swaying of their long glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.
Brain, draining a beer, got up to get another, bumping against my sister and playfully grabbing a handful. My sister started giggling at him as he sauntered off grinning, turning her figure so the brooch at the center of her gowns’ waistline almost hit me on the nose. Half asleep I reached over and lifted it up.
Looking up at the girls I saw that neither was paying no never mind towards me. Ginny, however, laid a hand on my twins shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper some girlish secret about Brian. I continued on, and was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I slipped her jewel into my pocket; until I could think of what it was I was going to do with it to tease me twin sister.
Brian stopped on the way back and reset the music, a slow song. Sis went to him, and the pair started dancing. I rose and taking Ginny by the hand, followed suit, leading her to the bit of a dance floor we had cleared. She was again, pure heaven in my arms as my hands slipped liberally up and down her smooth, slinky gowned figure. Ginny smiled, I knew that smile, and realized that something was going on behind her pretty green eyes. She flicked back her sheet of ginger hair, and leaned against me. I saw you, she whispered, her voice putting a tickle in my ear. Saw me I asked, not getting it. I saw you lift that dame’s diamond brooch, Ginny said in a sultry voice as she looked over towards where my sister was dancing, (no, she was actually swooning), in Brian’s arms. You see that one over there, in the black dancing with the bearded gent? I looked over, as she continues, look at ‘er necklace, I have a fancy for it, and if you don’t want me to call security, I suggest you get it for me, darling, she said, like she was some old time actress in a movie. I loved the devilishness of Ginny’s role play idea and threw me whole heart and soul into it.
Check out the Sonia clip shortcut at the end of my tale( recommend viewing)
Now wide awake, I got fully into Ginny’s game. As we continued dancing my eyes watched Brian and me sister, taking careful inventory of all her sparkling jewelry. Sis turned, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me. As I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up, I was imagining that all of her ample collection of rhinestones so prettily positioned on her figure, were real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief after her lovely sparklers. I looked into Ginny’s eyes. You have a deal miss, I whispered, making my voice deep and throaty, as I imagined meself as Humphrey Bogart type character in some shadowy film noir movie.
The song ended and a second, even slower one began playing. Brian and my sister were still locked into each other’s arms, but I felt that the time to make my move was now. Throwing Ginny a wink, I went over and cut in, Brian looked drunkenly at me like “whattsup chap,” but Ginny was right behind and swirled him away before he could properly react.
And as I took the pretty, wide eyed with innocence looking “dame” into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my intentions. Naïvely unaware, that in indifference to her own words earlier, someone did now want to nick the jewelry so merrily dangling from her svelte figure. Don’t forget at this point she was no longer my sister, but my sweet victim, and I was nothing more than a thief hungering after her bright baubles, albeit, a slightly inebriated thief!
I bided my time, appearing to look into my twins half opened eyes ( she was really lit by this time, as we all were) , my mind was working overtime on how to best approach my objective.
Employing the same method that the thief had used in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment my twin on how devastating her and Ginny looked both looked that evening (no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back until I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering row of single “diamonds”. She ate it up, blushing and closing her eyes, tilting her head down, exposing even more of the back of her throat, and laying bare the chain of her “diamond” necklace. As she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, I subtly lifted up the chain of her necklace, holding her ever so her tightly around the waist. As I felt the heat emanating from her figure, I used my free left hands’ fingers to unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over her one shoulder. Sis never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I peeled it off her chest (whisking along smooth as silk) and pulled it over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I pocketed it, letting it join her purloined brooch.
Meanwhile, Brian had left Ginny to go to the loo, and I saw Ginny, who had been watching all of it, give me a wink. Then she turned and stole out the apartment door, her longish slinking gown slipping through behind her as she closed the door. I made ready to make some excuse to break away from my sister and head after her with my loot.
But just as I opened my mouth to make that excuse , Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her own head back on my shoulder and closed her tired eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. One of her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there sparkling, mocking me to touch it, and like Gingers diamonds, was ripe for the picking.
With the prize within my grasp, I momentarily forgot about the departing Ginny, and I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ear, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled. The rest of the maneuver was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the earring in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauty came away from her sweaty ear as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held it in one fist for a bit, watching my victim, she had not felt so much as a tickle on her earlobe, as I had taken her earring. Relishing in my success, I looked at it dangling and shimmering in my hand behind her back. Then I secured her diamond away. I thought about trying for the other, but thought better of it, knowing Ginny was just waiting on the other side of the door.
I finished out the dance, taking my sisters hand with its dazzling bracelet and rings, and admired them while I kissed it. I’d better be off after Ginny I said, and then let go of her hand. Nice doing business with you I said, bemused as I watched the puzzlement creep into her eyes. That is how I left her.
However it was my turn to look puzzled as I went out, Ginny was nowhere to be seen. I quickly looked around, then headed to the elevator and rode down in it, alone at this early morning hour, to the lobby.
I arrived there, and at first the lobby appeared deserted, cept for a lonely desk clerk with her head buried in a novel. Then breathed a sigh of relief, there, around a corner, Ginny stood talking to some older lady wearing a garish grey pant suit, with this blue tinted helmet of curly hair covered by a large silk head scarf, and carrying an overlarge purse. I suddenly realized that now my anxiety had gone, another urge had taken its place. Ginny looked up, and smiles happily at me, and I smiled back, indicated that I had to go for a minute, and headed meself to the loo.
Coming out after I finished, I saw that the lobby was actually now really empty, not even the desk clerk was visible. Thinking Ginny may have gone back upstairs, I first went to the hotels double doors to chance a look outside onto the street below. I just caught sight of a wisp of black gown moving just out of sight past the stairs, on the now smoggy sidewalk below.
I headed out, and there was Ginny walking with the Blue haired stranger, they appeared to be looking for something. I started wondering if Ginny had invited this stranger to go on out walk with us? But no, apparently the blue haired lady in the unfortunate grey pantsuit had discovered her keys were missing, and thought they had dropped somewhere after getting out of a taxi just around the corner. And Ginny, bless her kind heated soul, had offered to help the distressed lady look for them.
As Ginny was telling me all this after I had caught up, the blue haired older lady , her cheerful face now stern, had started rummaging in her large shoulder bag, I sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw that is contained quite an amazing assortment of items , ( no wonder it had to be so big). Suddenly she uttered an exclamation, found them she said, triumphantly pulling out an interesting assortment of skeleton type keys on a small ring. Happily smiling at Ginny, she pulled her into an enveloping hug for her efforts, before quickly leaving, but not without first giving me a sidelong glance with a disapproving look from her now pursed–lipped mouth as she passed. But I at the time put it down as her just being stressed out from believing she had misplaced her keys.
I am so glad she found her keys remarked Ginny, taking up me hand. That lady was ever so nice, she wanted to know where I had been dressed up all pretty like I am, and when I told her about the wedding, she said it must have been lovely. Then she admired me dress, and rhinestones. Then asked if me ruby ring was a gift from the bride. Liked your ring huh, I asked Ginny, my mind clearing up a little. Oh yes she said, lifted my hand, looked at it an everything!
Then the poor dear missed her keys, and asked if I could be a dear and help her look outside, and that was that until you showed up. (Looking outside for keys at 2:30 in the morning? I thought to myself) As I said ti Ginny, it is a pretty ring, and taking her arm, we started down the block together.
My mind, now somewhat attuned to the reality of things, went back to the blue haired lady and her large shoulder bag. Among some of various items I had seen had been a penknife, a length of old silk sash cord, small bundle of lacy handkerchiefs, and a small torch! Then add in the odd assortment of keys on her “misplaced” keyring, and put it all together, it all began to sum up to a new, slightly more sinister meaning of her intentions, in my take on the episode.
As we walked, I said nothing in reply to the happily chirping, richly attired girl walking beside me , as for the first time, and not the last, I wondered if something had been afoot with the Blue Haired, pursed mouthed lady that Ginny had seen as a kind older lady needed help, like the bird with a broken wing she had tried to help a few days past( a blue jay!). So was the blue haired lady, with the silk scarf and wearing a rather unisexual pantsuit, acting out the part of a “blue jay”, using her “broken wing” as a ruse to lure my Ginny safely away for her own nefarious reasons?
Surreptitiously, I carefully checked over Ginny from head to heeled toes as we walked, to make sure nothing was amiss. Her rhinestones were still safely all in their place, but I did not see the ruby ring, and me heart went still, and chills prickled down my spine! Bullocks! I swore under my breath, that pucker faced tart walked away with it. Ginny, I said, a little choked, she swirled facing me, her green eyes questioning, as she raised her hand to her perked breasts, and there it was, the small, but rather pricey, ruby ring she so loved wearing, the glittery darling had turned around on her finger so it was hidden from my view
.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, I just wanted to say how lovely you looked this evening my lass, I said saving myself. She smiled winningly, giving me a deep hug for my words. We walked on, as my beating heart slowed down, I convinced myself that maybe the incident of lost keys had all been harmless, and I was just being a worry-wort. I apologized silently for what I had called the fashion challenged blue haired lady in my mind. But I was still beginning to feel like ever a fool to have let Ginny, handsomely decked out as she was, out of my sight at this early hour of the morning.
I opened my mind and let all such thoughts flee my head, for the world was now ours, as we made our journey together, hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial Park, and reentering the same isolated, secret glen we had been in earlier, proceeded to continue acting out the role playing game we had started at the apartment.
Ginny went to the middle of the clearing to wait, pretending she was smoking, like a moll from a gangster movie. I circled and watched her sparkling figure, black in the glens shadows, move about a bit.
And as I did, my thoughts wondered a bit, and I remember reflecting ( not for the first time) how in the older black n whites, the heroine, or villainous, is always wearing gowns, elegant long gloves, and jeweled to the sparkling hilt. Then she walks alone to and then waits in some dark alley or other desolate spot for her contact, or hero to show up, much like Ginny was acting out now. So how is it that those fancy dressed and well jeweled unescorted dames, always manage to get to those spots, and are able to wait around in them alone, in those movies, and nary ever meet a ruffian who strips them of those pricy looking sparklers they are flaunting about? Just saying!
Saying a brief prayer that my thoughts were not tempting a fate of that type to occur to us now that I had been thinking it, I came out of the shadows and approached Ginny. Keeping my left hand in my pocket like I was carrying a heater. Hey sister, I said, been waiting long? No, she whispered, did you get the goods. Hot as ice I said proudly, producing the necklace and earring I had liberated from the dancing “dame”.
As I showed Ginny my take from “the dame”, she squealing over the fact I was able to take one of her diamond earrings, bonus she chanted. We laughed over what the “dames” reaction would be when the jewels were discovered missing. As we snickered, Ginny caught my eyes and then we got off on a tangent about jewel thieves in love, and ended up reenacting the “lure” scene from the movie ‘To Catch a Thief” ending up producing fireworks of our own making as Ginny lost all her jewels as well as her “innocence”.. We then made our way back home, as the cock crows, receiving a few odd looks from the occasional early morning lorry drivers.
And above all, I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I had sauntered our way to the park. And why not, I ask? Cause not only did I get to stroll about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, But I also had totally scored a hat trick in the jewelry lifting department, collecting two Quid to boot, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, isn’t it?
So ends my story, of which I have written 2 versions.
My question is now this:
Which version, if one reads both, do you believe to be the truer?
Please leave a comment at the end of the story you believe is..
In appreciation,
Thank You
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In Appraisal
Tis story may be unique in its nature, but if not we would love to hear about it. Please leave a comment or drop an email ( or both) about you own experience.
Thank You
The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommend viewing)
youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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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.
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"1 Spadina Crescent, also known as the Daniels Building, is an academic building home to the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design at the University of Toronto (U of T) in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. The building is situated in the centre of a roundabout of Spadina Avenue, north of College Street. Its location provides a picturesque vista looking north up Spadina Avenue; it is an axial view terminus for Spadina Avenue.
The parcel of land now known as Spadina Crescent first appeared on maps of Toronto as early as 1835, originally named "Mansfield's Old Gardens" and then Crescent Garden. The land was originally laid out by Dr. William Baldwin to cut through his family's land holdings. There was the intention for the city to turn it into a park after Dr. Baldwin's death; however, the conditions for this were never met and his grandchildren sold the land in 1873 to the Hon. J. McMurrich of the Presbyterian Church for $10,000.
A Gothic Revival building designed by architect James Avon Smith was built in 1875 as the then new home of Knox College, a theological college of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Knox College became affiliated with the University of Toronto in 1887, and in 1914 moved to its current location on the west side of King's College Circle. During World War I, the building became barracks, and shortly afterward became the Spadina Military Hospital in October 1916. For a period in 1918, Amelia Earhart worked as a nurses aide at the hospital. It remained a veterans hospital until 1943 when it was acquired by the University of Toronto's Connaught Medical Research Laboratories, which became one of Canada's main centers for the development and manufacture of pharmaceuticals. The building was in disrepair at this point and needed substantial renovations. It was also around this time that the basement was excavated. In the 1960s, it was proposed that this building be demolished to make way for the Spadina Expressway, which was never built. It became an academic building again in 1972 with the sale and relocation of the laboratories. The building was home to the Ontario division of the Eye Bank of Canada, and an alternative U of T student weekly newspaper, The Newspaper which moved because of renovations.
In January 2001, University of Toronto Professor David Buller was murdered in his office within the building, the case remains unsolved.
In June 2013, U of T announced a significant overhaul and renovation of the building, with plans to make it the new home for the Daniels Faculty of Architecture. On December 4, 2015, the Toronto Star published a video by Christopher Hume, its architecture critic, celebrating the building's history, and the University's plan to renovate, update and expand the building. The building was subsequently restored and renovated by a team of architects including heritage architects ERA and design architects Nader Tehrani and Katherine Faulkner of the Boston based firm NADAAA. The expansion, which was completed in 2017, included a new contemporary glass, concrete, and steel addition to the north side. The expanded portion of the building now offers space for design studios, lounges, a student cafe, workshop and fabrication labs. The historic building was sensitively restored and renovated to accommodate the new library, classes, and faculty offices. Toronto based landscape architecture studio PUBLIC WORK designed the surrounding landscape, which includes native plants and trees such as birch and oak. On the north side are two large berms, a grassy area, and a stepped pathway which leads to the fabrication laboratory. The extensive project received several awards for architectural excellence and was published in magazines around the globe.
The University of Toronto (UToronto or U of T) is a public research university in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, located on the grounds that surround Queen's Park. It was founded by royal charter in 1827 as King's College, the first institution of higher learning in Upper Canada. Originally controlled by the Church of England, the university assumed its present name in 1850 upon becoming a secular institution. As a collegiate university, it comprises eleven colleges each with substantial autonomy on financial and institutional affairs and significant differences in character and history. The university maintains three campuses, the oldest of which, St. George, is located in downtown Toronto. The other two satellite campuses are located in Scarborough and Mississauga.
The University of Toronto offers over 700 undergraduate and 200 graduate programs. In all major rankings, the university consistently ranks in the top ten public universities in the world and as the top university in the country. It receives the most annual scientific research funding and endowment of any Canadian university and is one of two members of the Association of American Universities outside the United States, the other being McGill University in Montreal.
Academically, the University of Toronto is noted for influential movements and curricula in literary criticism and communication theory, known collectively as the Toronto School. The university was the birthplace of insulin and stem cell research, the first artificial cardiac pacemaker, and the site of the first successful lung transplant and nerve transplant. The university was also home to the first electron microscope, the development of deep learning, neural network, multi-touch technology, the identification of the first black hole Cygnus X-1, and the development of the theory of NP-completeness.
The Varsity Blues are the athletic teams that represent the university in intercollegiate league matches, primarily within U Sports, with ties to gridiron football, rowing and ice hockey. The earliest recorded instance of gridiron football occurred at University of Toronto's University College in November 1861. The university's Hart House is an early example of the North American student centre, simultaneously serving cultural, intellectual, and recreational interests within its large Gothic-revival complex.
University of Toronto alumni include three Governors General of Canada, five Prime Ministers of Canada, nine foreign leaders, and seventeen justices of the Supreme Court of Canada. As of March 2019, twelve Nobel laureates, six Turing Award winners, 94 Rhodes Scholars, and one Fields Medalist have been affiliated with the university.
Toronto (/təˈrɒntoʊ/ tə-RON-toh; locally [təˈɹɒɾ̃ə] or [ˈtɹɒɾ̃ə]) is the capital city of the Canadian province of Ontario. With a recorded population of 2,794,356 in 2021, it is the most populous city in Canada and the fourth most populous city in North America. The city is the anchor of the Golden Horseshoe, an urban agglomeration of 9,765,188 people (as of 2021) surrounding the western end of Lake Ontario, while the Greater Toronto Area proper had a 2021 population of 6,712,341. Toronto is an international centre of business, finance, arts, sports and culture, and is recognized as one of the most multicultural and cosmopolitan cities in the world.
Indigenous peoples have travelled through and inhabited the Toronto area, located on a broad sloping plateau interspersed with rivers, deep ravines, and urban forest, for more than 10,000 years. After the broadly disputed Toronto Purchase, when the Mississauga surrendered the area to the British Crown, the British established the town of York in 1793 and later designated it as the capital of Upper Canada. During the War of 1812, the town was the site of the Battle of York and suffered heavy damage by American troops. York was renamed and incorporated in 1834 as the city of Toronto. It was designated as the capital of the province of Ontario in 1867 during Canadian Confederation. The city proper has since expanded past its original limits through both annexation and amalgamation to its current area of 630.2 km2 (243.3 sq mi).
The diverse population of Toronto reflects its current and historical role as an important destination for immigrants to Canada. More than half of residents were born outside of Canada, more than half of residents belong to a visible minority group, and over 200 distinct ethnic origins are represented among its inhabitants. While the majority of Torontonians speak English as their primary language, over 160 languages are spoken in the city. The mayor of Toronto is elected by direct popular vote to serve as the chief executive of the city. The Toronto City Council is a unicameral legislative body, comprising 25 councillors since the 2018 municipal election, representing geographical wards throughout the city.
Toronto is a prominent centre for music, theatre, motion picture production, and television production, and is home to the headquarters of Canada's major national broadcast networks and media outlets. Its varied cultural institutions, which include numerous museums and galleries, festivals and public events, entertainment districts, national historic sites, and sports activities, attract over 43 million tourists each year. Toronto is known for its many skyscrapers and high-rise buildings, in particular the tallest free-standing structure on land outside of Asia, the CN Tower.
The city is home to the Toronto Stock Exchange, the headquarters of Canada's five largest banks, and the headquarters of many large Canadian and multinational corporations. Its economy is highly diversified with strengths in technology, design, financial services, life sciences, education, arts, fashion, aerospace, environmental innovation, food services, and tourism. Toronto is the third-largest tech hub in North America after Silicon Valley and New York City, and the fastest growing." - info from Wikipedia.
The fall of 2022 I did my 3rd major cycling tour. I began my adventure in Montreal, Canada and finished in Savannah, GA. This tour took me through the oldest parts of Quebec and the 13 original US states. During this adventure I cycled 7,126 km over the course of 2.5 months and took more than 68,000 photos. As with my previous tours, a major focus was to photograph historic architecture.
On this trip I had a surprise 4 day layover in Toronto.
Now on Instagram.
Chronicles of lifting Light C (The Reception Game)
A forethought
“The wedding was a bit over the top. The bride wanted her girl’s dresses to be something they would wear out again. A nice thought, but the gowns she found were a little too long for anything but formal evening wear, according to our girls who were asked to be part of the bridal party. The maid of honour wore a red silk version; the six Bridesmaids wore theirs in black satin.” Each of the girls were also presented with a matching collection of Swarovski rhinestones “traditional classic darlings” ! The jewellery, when added to the girl’s ensemble, further enhanced the red carpet like atmosphere of the Bridal party coterie’!
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Intro of the story proper :
“A few years ago, “Ginny” was watching some type of show when I heard her squeal out. Our Golden Retriever ‘Sam’ meandered back in to see what all the fuss was about? I obediently followed. Ginny pointed out to us a model who was wearing, rather fetchingly I might add, a long black satin gown. That’s m’ gown Ginny exclaimed, you remember, the one I wore at “Sheila’s” wedding, the one where my necklace was sn…., But at that point her attention was diverted back to her program. Squirrel I teased as Sam and I watched with her.
It was a gown strikingly very similar in colour, cut, and material to the one worn by Ginny ( and me sister) at a chums wedding years before ( and winningly worn several times hence I might add). It is a pretty thing to behold my charming Ginny sporting it, and in its time, it has born witness to a few goings on that most ladies wearing a gown like that would never encounter…….”
Chronicles of lifting Light C
Story Proper
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This story is true, and is really pretty much told as it happened.
What we did may sound daft, but read and understand the circumstances, plus realize we all were pretty well lit up with drink.
I will plead guilty at having enhanced certain aspects of the story.
For indeed, truth can be stranger than fiction… and coincidences occur, both sweet and bitter….. as I’m sure someone once said.
So here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join in a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I were pressed, not unwillingly, into service.
As I stated earlier, the wedding and reception were both over the top posh. So much so that our opinions, and subsequent escapades, were still coming up amongst us as a topic of conversation at our local haunt The ‘Poet and the Peasant Pub’, kept by Brian’s Auntie and Uncle..
www.flickr.com/groups/poet_and_the_peasant__pub_/
The Wedding proper was held at the local Cathedral. A rather decadent place built with a hearty clash of gothic/ medieval styles ; with black stone towers, Lancet arches, and fly away buttresses.
Inside one finds white marble columns, oak pews blackened with age, intricate wood work and ghostly while statues. All lit with hanging diamond shaped antique glass lights and colourful lead glass stained windows depicting a horde of medieval era religious scenes.
I twas a fine backdrop for the rather glamoursly attired guests in attendance. The wedding ceremony itself would have been an interesting tale in and of itself, but that telling will await another day, for mine has its’ beginnings at the Reception.
The Reception was held in the basement, a grand place with an opulent ballroom, well stocked bar room and elegant dining area. The subterranean basement was decorated richly along the same grand lines as the interior of the ancient Cathedral above.
We were some time at the reception when my Ginny , who had been held up on her way back from the loo by a snobbish dowager feeling the need to criticise someone, regained her seat by plopping down with a loud woosh.
That was a chore, being picked apart by that “lovely !”creature. she exclaimed cynically, whilst adjusting her loose brooch. We all just smirked. I had received the same treatment from the lecturing prig earlier that evening.
Well, to be honest , my twin sister and Brian just actually were smirking at that. I believe my attention at the time was rather more occupied on the area where Ginny’s Brooch lay, which was the proper cause of my smirk! (naughty me)
Finished, Ginny than leaned against me sister, and, still reeling from being inappropriately chided, made a snide comment about the flimsy clasps on the shimmering jewellery they were wearing. My Sister, touching her necklace, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. Except my ring isn’t, said Ginny looking down at the ruby ring she was wearing on her pinky. My sister, thinking a minute, retorted “Then one never knows… “ , It looked like she was going to add something to that, but at that point the band restarted, and we joined the swarm of fancy dress gowns, silky dresses, suits and tuxes worn by the chic guests as they herded to the dance floor.
As we headed off, I was still perplexed about what had been going on in Sis’s head that made her come out with that reply, and I swear she had stolen a look at me while saying it. But as I had watched her pull at an earring to emphasize how loose the sparkling jewel was, a seed was planted in my head about a subject I myself had always found rather intriguing, pickpocketing jewelry!
Much later that evening, found Brian, me sister, and I alone, and probably more than a little drunk (always a precarious time with us). As Sis and Brain chatted on about a topic I had soon lost interest in, I started to watch Ginny, who had been asked to dance by some twit with shifty eyes in a red silk shirt, (open collared), who had rudely cut in on us. As I watched Ginny’s swishing gown liquidly move and flutter about in quite an interesting exhibition, I found meself mesmerized by the beckoning manner in which her healthy display of rhinestones were sparkling about( as they had been all evening). I looked back at my sister, and her own show of jewelry, also sparkling up nicely against the smooth black satin backdrop of her own matching gown..
Still not being able to shake me twin’s earlier comment about nicking jewels, nor its answer, out of my head , I waited for a lull in conversation to finally chance asking my twin about her comments.
She looked at me, having to think back a bit about the question, ( As I said, we were more drunk than sober by then), placing a nicely ringed finger to her lips, while regrouping her thoughts. Got it, she exclaimed! Proudly remembering what had triggered her memory, and with that she started to explain.
When she was a tyke of about 7, there was a show that she had seen on the tele that centered on this group of people trying to reform a thief. Believing that he had turned a new leaf, they threw a fancy dress dance for him in honour of his new ways. During the dance, he cut in and danced with each of the three ladies who had been trying to teach him the errors of his ways. From one he slipped off her long diamond earrings, from a second her diamond necklace was lifted away, but me sister was unsure what the scoundrel took from the third. Sis had reckoned that the earrings and necklaces that she and Ginny were wearing that evening, looked a lot like the ones worn by ( and nicked from) the ladies on that show.
Now, as me twin described the thief’s antics, certain emotions awakened, rearing their tantalizing heads; my mind began wandering in some deep waters, pulled bout by some deep personal emotions. Cause I had been sitting on the couch with her, when as quite young children, we had seen a repeat of that episode.
As it happened my sister had been outside earlier playing dress up in on of mum’s old party frocks and was still wearing it, along with a set of costume pearls. Suddenly, that day, I wanted nothing more in the world than to lift the pearls she was wearing. I simmered over it for the rest of the program, getting to the point of actually laying my arm on the back of the couch, inching my fingers towards the clasp of her pearls laying there upon the back of her throat. But then the show ended, and I got no closer to stealing anything more than a touch of a really soft old evening gown. After the show ended, I warily suggested we go back outside and play Robin Hood (my sister has always been into his story).
We did, and as Sir Robin led her to his hideout, conveniently located through a thicket of Hawthorne’s, the pretty Maid Marion’s pearls mysteriously melted away.
That is when I had I had my epiphany, hitting me like a brick wall! Waiting till sis finished her story, I pointed out to Ginny, and asked the pair, If Ginny had been the third lady he had danced with, what jeweles do you think he would have found easiest to lift from her while dancing?
Brian , always the more pragmatic of the group, snorted, that’s stuff that only happens in stories and movies.
I said I would bet it can be done, a quid says I can lift a piece of Ginny’s jewelry with her never noticing. Sis chimed in, you wouldn’t dare, but she was looking at me like she knew the answer already. Brian caught her tone, and took me up on it, betting me the quid that I couldn’t get away with lifting her necklace,( I liked his choice, it had been a necklace that “Sir Robin” had first lifted from me sisters neck that day in the woods long past).
At this time the music ended, and Ginny swished back to rejoin us. As we played mute about our plans, we welcomed the damsel back and acted like there had been nothing in the world goin on amongst us while she was out dancing.
We drank and talked for a bit more, and I was all but certain that Brian and my sister had all but forgotten the wager.
But I hadn’t, nor had I been able to keep my eyes from studying the glittery rhinestones Ginny had draped around her pretty throat. When a slow song started up, I rose and asked Ginny to a dance. I caught Brian’s eyes, and read the dare reflecting in them, so we were still on with the wager.
Leading Ginny to the dance floor, we embraced, and danced to the pretty song beginning to play, it twas a slow romantic one ( lady in red If I recall correctly). Ginny was absolute pure heaven in my arms, and I found me self so entrapped by her charms, that all ambitions to be a thief and make an attempt upon her lovely rhinestone necklace fell to the wayside.
As the song was ending, I caught a look from Brian across the dance floor, noticing that he smugly was looked at Ginny’s throat. I did not want to lose me quid on principle (I swear), so as the dance ended I held onto Ginny, waiting. Soon a second song started, disappointedly a more fast paced one with a Latin beat. I spun Ginny around onto the floor before she had time to catch a breath, we danced, like the song which played says:
And we… danced like a wave on the ocean, romanced
We were liars in love and we danced
Swept away for a moment by chance
And we danced, danced, danced
And dance we did, hot, furious and fast. A couple of times I spun Ginny around, and the poor girl already a bit tipsy, fell against me, giggling. About the third time I spun her, she stopped, and dropped backside into me and began to do this sort of gyrating move, slithering up and down my front side, with her hands held high above her head, her longish ginger hair had fallen over one shoulder, exposing her necklace in all its fine brilliance. As her warm, sweaty figure slipped up and down against mine, I watched the back of her throat, eyeing the necklace as it sparkled opulently in the dim lights. I started Studying, intently, the sparkly chain with it’s simple hook in eye clasp.
She brought her hands down behind me back, crossing them behind me waist. My right hand went to the front of her waist, holding onto her squirming, satin slippery sweating figure, pressing her warm body tightly against me.
My left hand went up to her shoulder, gliding along the glossy slick fabric of her black satin gown, until I reached her necklace. It only took seconds for my fingers to lift up, and slip off the hook from its”eye” , letting the shimmering chain slither down the front side of Ginny’s satin clad breasts. My right hand left her waist, and travelled nimbly, tingling, all the way up the front until my fingers grasped the dangling chain. My left hand let go, and the necklace whisked down the front of her perking bosom, tightly covered by the glossy black satin bridesmaid gown. The whole bit of thievery took me only a few chords of the music, but it seemed to be carried out in slow motion in the process.
We finished out the song, me basking in the fact that my gyrating partner was innocently unaware that her shiny necklace had been pinched, and were now residing in her dance partners vest pocket. I will admit feeling a twinge of regret that it no longer could be seen glittering from around its’ mistress’s now bare throat.
We made our way back to the others, Brian had a smug look on his bearded face, I knew he was up to something. As I sat down, he whispered double it or nothing mate, that she notices it’s missing before we leave. I nodded, taking him up on it.
So, the game was still on, and for the last two hours that we stayed at the reception poor Ginny became the unknowing centre of our somewhat devious game1
Brain, eagerly waiting for Ginny to notice her missing necklace, tried for the most part to remain mute. I sweated it a bit, but his saboteur’s tactics failed.
I’ll admit I hadn’t thought it out before agreeing, but what probably should have been a suckers bet, with a million ways for Ginny to notice her necklace was playing hooky, apparently was going with the long odds for me to win.
I sweated it a bit, butno-one else amongst the crowd pointed out, or even seemed to care that Ginny was no longer wearing her necklace! Even the bloke in the open collared re shirt, who managed to steal Ginny away for another dance, failed to say anything. Which made me a mite curious as to where his attention span had been focused.
Even when me sister tried to help Brian out by playing with her own jewelled necklace while she held Ginny’s attention during conversation in the ladies powder room, failed to cause a reaction!
Through all this, the poor creature never quite caught on that her necklace had been lifted from her throat ! Unscrupulously nicked away on a whimsical bet while innocently dancing!
And continued danced with me she did, all of us thoroughly enjoying the rest of the evening’s attractions, along with the bit of fun we were having at poor Ginny’s expense.! But I made damn sure that our poor victim had the time of her life for my repentance.
Then during our last slow dance, I did start to harbour the prickling thought of trying for another of Ginny’s baubles. But the thought of winning 2 quid from Brian, who in his time has won a bit more from me than I him, kept my thoughts of further thievery in check! I knew my spirit was weakening. Fortunately we left soon afterwards….
We finally left the reception after midnight and made our way along the ten city blocks back to the hotel where Ginny and my twin sister shared a joining room with Brian and meself.
Ginny walked calmly with us, unaware of the picaresque devils that were us, keeping pace beside her. As were making our way through a short cut in a wooded Provincial park, we stopped in a small isolated glen and circled around Ginny. Sis was grinning as she asked poor unawares Ginny; So luv, whatever did happen to your necklace? Gin’s reaction was absolutely, rewardingly priceless.
Ginny, a relatively innocent soul, who is prone to believing most anything told to her, started, and her hand went to her throat, feeling about fruitlessly, as her rustling glossy gown and remaining jewels glistened dark in the full moons’ light.
“M’ necklace, why it’s gone? , where did it go!, she pleaded helplessly, her thought patterns and speech a little slurred by her rather intoxicated condition. We than got into it, playing dumb along with her, and tried to figure out the “mystery” I said the last time I saw it was when that seedy bloke cut in, and I ran my hand up her back, feeling the shivers going down her spine, did the blighter touch you like that, then luv. No she said, then thought hard, no she repeated, he couldn’t have, he was a proper gentleman, and it was only rhinestone, like your sister said.
I don’t know said Brian, never trust any gent who doesn’t wear a tie to fancy dress! He had to ‘ave been up to no good, that one!
My sister then commented that the bloke may have not noticed no difference, and she held out her own necklace, I’m glad he didn’t ask me to dance.
No, Ginny shook her head, her long earrings flickering a frenzied fire out from her let down ginger hair, no one could have lifted them like that, I’d have felt it….I’m sure of that…!
She looked desperately around at us, then seeing the look on upon our faces, Ginny froze with the realization that we had all been up to something, and, then a smile of relief showed up on her pretty face, as I held up her necklace, sparkling in front of her eyes. A sly look of understanding that we had been up to something crept into those dazzling green eyes , as she told us now to spill it out.
We explained the whole tale as Sis helped Ginny place her necklace back on. Ginny, with her usual good humor, said she had never noticed a thing, and it probably was a good thing we weren’t real thieves, because if her necklace had been diamonds, it would have been worth a small fortune. And shame on us for having her believe it was that poor blighter in the red shirt.
We wouldn’t’ make very good thieves I agreed we drink too much. She just smiled, a curious looking gleam creeping up into those witchy green eyes of hers. Let’s get going before we meet a real thief then, urged my sister, all this talk about someone thinking our jewels are real is giving me the right chills.
Our drunken little group then merrily, if not a little more guardedly, made our way home..
This next bit is my favorite.
We rode the elevator up to the boy’s room, as the girls called our room, where we drank beer, danced to music and talked on a bit about the reception. The girls stayed in dress and I happily soaked up the pretty picture the pair of admirably attractive girls presented with their long sheets of straight hair now just hanging down, their “diamonds” sparkling and all other assorted frills enticing.
About two hours later found Brian and myself sitting on the couch in kind of a hazy stupor while holding onto our beers. Ginny and my sister were standing directly in front of us, holding beers of their own and giggling over some girlish nonsense, the hypnotic swaying of their longish glossy black satin gowns slowly putting me to sleep.
Brain, draining his beer, got up to get another, bumping against my sister and playfully grabbed a handful. My sister started giggling at him as he sauntered off grinning, turning her figure so the brooch at the centre of her gowns’ waistline almost wacked me on the nose. Half asleep I reached over and gingerly lifted it up.
Looking up at the girls I saw that neither was paying no never mind towards me. Ginny, however, laid a hand on my twins shoulder, drawing her close so she could whisper some girlish secret about Brian. I continued on, and was able to undo the brooch, and slip it carefully off without notice. I slipped her jewel into my pocket; waiting until I could think ,now that I did the deed, just hpw I would tease her about it.
Brian stopped on the way back and reset the music, a slow song came up. Sis went to him, and the pair started dancing. I rose and taking Ginny by the hand, followed suit, leading her to the bit of a dance floor we had cleared. She was again, pure heaven in my arms and my hands slipped liberally up and down her smooth, slinky gowned figure.
Ginny smiled! I knew that smile, and realized that something was going on behind her pretty green eyes.
She flicked back her sheet of ginger hair, and leaned against me. I saw you, she huskily whispered, her voice putting a tickle in my ear. Saw me I asked, not getting it. I saw you lift that dame’s diamond brooch, Ginny said in a sultry voice as she looked over towards where my sister was dancing, (no, she was actually swooning), in Brian’s arms.
Now mate, you see that one over there, in the black dancing with the bearded gent? I looked over, as she continues, look at ‘er necklace, I have a fancy for diamonds, and if you don’t want me to call security, I suggest you get hers for me, darling, she said with conspiracy like tones, acting like she was some old time actress in a movie. I loved the devilishness of Ginny’s role play idea and it did not take much to toss me whole heart and soul into the assignment!.
Check out the Sonia clip shortcut at the end of my tale( recommend viewing)
Now wide awake, I got fully into Ginny’s game. As we continued dancing, my eyes watched Brian and me sister, taking careful inventory of all the “dames” sparkling jewelry. Sis turned, and caught my eyes looking her over, she blushed, and not knowing what was really going through my mind, smiled at me. As I smiled back, my eyes drinking her fetchingly attired figure up!
I was imagining that all of her ample collection of rhinestones so prettily positioned on her figure, were real diamonds. And that I was an actual thief plotting to nick her lovely sparklers. I looked into Ginny’s eyes. You have a deal miss, I whispered, making my voice deep and throaty, as I imagined meself as some, albeit drunk, Humphrey Bogart type character in some grittingly shadowy film noir style black and white movie.
The song ended and a second, even slower one began playing. Brian and my sister were still locked into each other’s arms, but I felt that the time to make my move was now. Throwing Ginny a wink, I went over and cut in, Brian looked drunkenly at me like “whattsup chap,” but Ginny was right behind and swirled him conveniently away before he could properly react.
And as I took the pretty, wide eyed with innocence looking “dame” into my arms I found it exciting that she was oblivious to my nefarious intentions. Naïvely unaware, that in indifference to her own words earlier, someone did now want to nick the jewelry which was quite so merrily dangling from her svelte figure. Now, don’t forget at this point to me she was no longer my sister, but a sweet innocent victim weighted down with desirable loot. And I? I was nothing more than a suave thief deliciously hungering after her bright baubles, albeit, a slightly inebriated suave thief!
I bided my time, appearing to look into my twins/victims half opened eyes ( she was really lit by this time, as we all were) , my mind was working overtime on how the best approach to reach my objective. Then it came to me, quite clearly, and so Bob became my uncle, and I began his suggested approach…. And if I would have dared say so at the time, I executed my bit of jewel thievery like a pro….That is if there are actually pros at this sort of thing1?
Employing the same method that I remembered the thief using in the Gilligan’s Island episode to remove his dance partners necklace, I began to compliment my twin on how devastating her and Ginny looked both looked that evening (no lies), slowly moving my one hand up the slick material of the gown covering her back as I whispered my praise. Easily I reached the dangling part of her hook and eye necklace with its’ glittering rows of “diamonds”. She ate it up, blushing and closing her eyes, naively cooperating by tilting her head down, exposing even more of the back of her throat, and laying bare the chain of her “diamond” necklace. As she fawned over my words of (not false) praise, I subtly lifted up the chain of her necklace, whilst my free hand held her ever so her tightly around the waist. For the second time that evening I could feel the heat emanating from my victims squirming figure. As well as again feeling me own heart pounding a storm.
I gently used my free left hands’ fingers to unhooked the clasp, and let the necklace fall over her one shoulder. Sis never felt it hanging, or noticed it as I peeled it off her chest (whisking along her gown smooth as silk) and pulled it over her gown’s satin shoulder till it slipped sparkling down behind her. I held it hanging loose behind her back for a few turns, still pouring out the compliments, until I pocketed it, letting it join her purloined brooch.
Meanwhile, Brian had left Ginny to go to the loo, and I saw Ginny, who had been eagerly watching all of it, give me a wink. Then she turned and stole out the apartment door, her longish slinking gown slipping through behind her as she closed the door. I made ready to make some excuse to break away from my sister and head after her with my loot.
But just as I opened my mouth to make that excuse , Sis pulled her arms behind me head, and laid her own head back on my shoulder and closed her tired eyes, getting into the music’s deep beat. One of her longish rhinestone earrings just hung there sparkling, mocking me to touch it, and like Gingers diamonds, I saw them as quite ripe for the picking.
With the prize within my grasp, I momentarily forgot about the departing Ginny, and I made my move. I found meself trembling a bit, as I reached up and placed my hands gently alongside her ear, her eyes still shut, my victim smiled prettily. The rest of the manoeuvre was surprisingly easy, as I glided my fingers down and slipped it off the earring in one effortless motion. The sparkling beauty came away from her sweaty ear as smoothly as an ice cube moves along a steaming hot grill ( I actually did have a thought like that). I held it in one fist for a bit, watching my victim, she had not felt so much as a tickle on her earlobe, as I had removed her earring. Relishing in my success, I looked at it dangling and shimmering in my hand behind her back. Then, as I secured her diamonds away, I thought about trying for the other. But thought better of it, knowing Ginny was just waiting on the other side of the door.
I finished out the dance, taking my sisters hand with its dazzling bracelet and rings, and admired them while I kissed it, the “Dames” Bracelet tantalizing slipped down along her wrist and brushed against me knuckles. At that moment, we both heard the toilet flushing, and my twin looked over her shoulder laughing. As she did do, I saw an opportunity opening up and taking her dangling diamonded bracelet in me fingers, tugged it down ever so discreetly. Surprisingly the clasp popped opened ( right about being flimsy luv, I silently agreed with my twin’s earlier statement)!
I daringly pulled it free from around her wrist and slipped it in me pocket just as she turned back around to face her dance partner. I could see in her eyes that she had not felt nor noticed anything outta place. I’d better be off after Ginny I said, clearing me throat, and then , with no fanfare, let go of her hand. It dropped to her side, rings flashing, purloined bracelet gone from where it had, with cheeky regality, had been holding shimmering court all evening.
Nice doing business with you I said, bemused as I watched the puzzlement creep into her half awake eyes while I backed away from her towards the door.
And that chaps, is how I left her. With my grainy black and white movie still playing out in my mind. She just was standing there puzzled, a wealthy lady in fancy dress, unknowingly watching the dashing stranger leave with the “fortune” in jewels she thought she still was wearing. She innocently watched me as I left the room with her “diamonds” in my scoundrel’s possession!
However, it was my turn to look puzzled as I went out, Ginny was nowhere to be seen! I quickly looked around, then headed to the elevator and rode down in it, alone at this early morning hour, to the lobby.
I arrived there, and at first the lobby appeared deserted, cept for a lonely desk clerk with her head buried in a novel. Then breathed a sigh of relief, there, around a corner, Ginny stood talking to some older lady wearing a garish grey pant suit, with this blue tinted helmet of curly hair covered by a large silk head scarf, and carrying an overlarge purse. I suddenly realized that now my anxiety had gone, another urge had taken its place. Ginny looked up, and smiles happily at me, and I smiled back, indicated that I had to go for a minute, and headed meself to the loo.
Coming out after I finished, I saw that the lobby was actually now really empty, not even the desk clerk was visible. Thinking Ginny may have gone back upstairs, I first went to the hotels double doors to chance a look outside onto the street below. I just caught sight of a wisp of black gown moving just out of sight past the stairs, on the now smoggy sidewalk below.
I headed out, and there was Ginny walking with the Blue haired stranger, they appeared to be looking for something. I started wondering if Ginny had invited this stranger to go on out walk with us? But no, apparently the blue haired lady in the unfortunate grey pantsuit had discovered her keys were missing, and thought they had dropped somewhere after getting out of a taxi just around the corner. And Ginny, bless her kind heated soul, had offered to help the distressed lady look for them.
As Ginny was telling me all this after I had caught up, the blue haired older lady , her cheerful face now stern, had started rummaging in her large shoulder bag, I sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw that is contained quite an amazing assortment of items , ( no wonder it had to be so big). Suddenly she uttered an exclamation, found them she said, triumphantly pulling out an interesting assortment of skeleton type keys on a small ring. Happily smiling at Ginny, she pulled her into an enveloping hug for her efforts, before quickly leaving, but not without first giving me a sidelong glance with a disapproving look from her now pursed–lipped mouth as she passed. But I at the time put it down as her just being stressed out from believing she had misplaced her keys.
I am so glad she found her keys remarked Ginny, taking up me hand. That lady was ever so nice, she wanted to know where I had been dressed up all pretty like I am, and when I told her about the wedding, she said it must have been lovely. Then she admired me dress, and rhinestones. Then asked if me ruby ring was a gift from the bride. Liked your ring huh, I asked Ginny, my mind clearing up a little. Oh yes she said, lifted my hand, looked at it an everything!
Then the poor dear missed her keys, and asked if I could be a dear and help her look outside, and that was that until you showed up. (Looking outside for keys at 2:30 in the morning? I thought to myself) As I said ti Ginny, it is a pretty ring, and taking her arm, we started down the block together.
My mind, now somewhat attuned to the reality of things, went back to the blue haired lady and her large shoulder bag. Among some of various items I had seen had been a penknife, a length of old silk sash cord, small bundle of lacy handkerchiefs, and a small torch! Then add in the odd assortment of keys on her “misplaced” keyring, and put it all together, it all began to sum up to a new, slightly more sinister meaning of her intentions, in my take on the episode.
As we walked, I said nothing in reply to the happily chirping, richly attired girl walking beside me , as for the first time, and not the last, I wondered if something had been afoot with the Blue Haired, pursed mouthed lady that Ginny had seen as a kind older lady needed help, like the bird with a broken wing she had tried to help a few days past( a blue jay!). So was the blue haired lady, with the silk scarf and wearing a rather unisexual pantsuit, acting out the part of a “blue jay”, using her “broken wing” as a ruse to lure my Ginny safely away for her own nefarious reasons?
Surreptitiously, I carefully checked over Ginny from head to heeled toes as we walked, to make sure nothing was amiss. Her rhinestones were still safely all in their place, but I did not see the ruby ring, and me heart went still, and chills prickled down my spine! Bullocks! I swore under my breath, that pucker faced tart walked away with it. Ginny, I said, a little choked, she swirled facing me, her green eyes questioning, as she raised her hand to her perked breasts, and there it was, the small, but rather pricey, ruby ring she so loved wearing, the glittery darling had turned around on her finger so it was hidden from my view
.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, I just wanted to say how lovely you looked this evening my lass, I said saving myself. She smiled winningly, giving me a deep hug for my words. We walked on, as my beating heart slowed down, I convinced myself that maybe the incident of lost keys had all been harmless, and I was just being a worry-wort. I apologized silently for what I had called the fashion challenged blue haired lady in my mind. But I was still beginning to feel like ever a fool to have let Ginny, handsomely decked out as she was, out of my sight at this early hour of the morning.
I opened my mind and let all such thoughts flee my head, for the world was now ours, as we made our journey together, hand in hand. We ended up making a very long stroll in the Provincial Park, and reentering the same isolated, secret glen we had been in earlier, proceeded to continue acting out the role playing game we had started at the apartment.
Ginny went to the middle of the clearing to wait, pretending she was smoking, like a moll from a gangster movie. I circled and watched her sparkling figure, black in the glens shadows, move about a bit.
And as I did, my thoughts wondered a bit, and I remember reflecting ( not for the first time) how in the older black n whites, the heroine, or villainous, is always wearing gowns, elegant long gloves, and jeweled to the sparkling hilt. Then she walks alone to and then waits in some dark alley or other desolate spot for her contact, or hero to show up, much like Ginny was acting out now. So how is it that those fancy dressed and well jeweled unescorted dames, always manage to get to those spots, and are able to wait around in them alone, in those movies, and nary ever meet a ruffian who strips them of those pricy looking sparklers they are flaunting about? Just saying!
Saying a brief prayer that my thoughts were not tempting a fate of that type to occur to us now that I had been thinking it, I came out of the shadows and approached Ginny. Keeping my left hand in my pocket like I was carrying a heater. Hey sister, I said, been waiting long? No, she whispered, did you get the goods. Hot as ice I said proudly, producing the necklace and earring I had liberated from the dancing “dame”.
As I showed Ginny my take from “the dame”, she squealing over the fact I was able to take one of her diamond earrings, bonus she chanted. Playing a thief’s role, I kept mum about the bracelet, no honour amongst thieves I thought mischievously .
We laughed over what the “dames” reaction would be when the jewels were discovered missing. As we snickered, Ginny caught my eyes and then we got off on a tangent about jewel thieves in love, and ended up reenacting the “lure” scene from the movie ‘To Catch a Thief” ending up producing fireworks of our own making as Ginny lost all her jewels as well as her “innocence”.. We then made our way back home, as the cock crows, receiving a few odd looks from the occasional early morning lorry drivers.
And above all, I still remember feeling pretty bloody cocky as Ginny and I had sauntered our way to the park. And why not, I ask? Cause not only did I get to stroll about with the most captivating ginger haired lass, sparkling in fancy dress around, But I also had totally scored a hat trick in the jewelry lifting department, collecting two Quid to boot, and that’s what life is all about for us boys, winning the game, taint it?
So ends my story
Please leave a comment at the end of the story if you rather liked the telling..
The Sonia clip shortcut ( recommend viewing)
youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk
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Please consider leaving a comment at the end of the story if you rather liked the telling..
This lovely cottage stands on a short private lane between the churchyard and the garden wall of the Manor House, so this rather cramped shot was the best I could manage. It is rather tucked away, and seems to have been missed by other photographers, as I haven't seen any other images of it.
This quiet village is perhaps most notorious for the bizarre and gruesome murder of Charles Walton on the evening of 14 February 1945. All kinds of rumours and myths, including witchcraft, surround the event, and it remains Warwickshire Police's oldest unsolved murder. (Excellent Wikipedia entry)
Across the USA monarchs soar and glide in the warm sunshine from March through October (depending where they are born), but what happens in the fall when the brisk cold winds set in and winter looms in the air? Monarchs cannot survive cold winter temperatures of the northern states. So what does a monarch do to keep warm? It MIGRATES south and HIBERNATES! This means that it rests, with a very slow heart rate, just like bears in their hibernation caves. Monarchs east of the Rockies migrate 2500 miles to the Oyamel fir trees of Mexico. Monarchs west of the Rockies migrate to southern California to the eucalyptus trees of Pacific Grove and surrounding areas.
The monarch's flight to Mexico has been compared to the migration habits of birds flying south for the winter. It is the only insect that can fly 2,500 miles to a warmer climate. Their unique wing structure and yearly life cycle makes it possible for the fall generation monarchs to travel thousands of miles (on those amazing little wings) to the warm nesting grounds of Mexico and southern California.
(http://www.monarchbutterflyusa.com/Migration.htm)
When the late summer and early fall Monarchs emerge from their pupae, or chrysalides, they are biologically and behaviorally different from those emerging in the summer. The shorter days and cooler air of late summer trigger changes. In Minnesota this occurs around the end of August. Even though these butterflies look like summer adults, they won't mate or lay eggs until the following spring. Instead, their small bodies prepare for a strenuous flight. Otherwise solitary animals, they often cluster at night while moving ever southward. If they linger too long, they won't be able to make the journey; because they are cold-blooded, they are unable to fly in cold weather.
Fat, stored in the abdomen, is a critical element of their survival for the winter. This fat not only fuels their flight of one to three thousand miles, but must last until the next spring when they begin the flight back north. As they migrate southwards, Monarchs stop to nectar, and they actually gain weight during the trip! Some researchers think that Monarchs conserve their "fuel" in flight by gliding on air currents as they travel south. This is an area of great interest for researchers; there are many unanswered questions about how these small organisms are able to travel so far.
Another unsolved mystery is how Monarchs find the overwintering sites each year. Somehow they know their way, even though the butterflies returning to Mexico or California each fall are the great-great-grandchildren of the butterflies that left the previous spring. No one knows exactly how their homing system works; it is another of the many unanswered questions in the butterfly world.
(http://www.monarchwatch.org/tagmig/index.htm)
A closer shot of the cement relleve in the main altar of Sibonga, Cebu, parish church, under the patronage of NS del Pilar, circa 1960s, when the old wooden retablo was demolished (I have no information as to why it was replaced).
The antique ivory processional image fell victim to another unsolved robbery against church property some twenty years ago.
Built in 1901, this Hawaiian Gothic-style hotel, mixing elements of the Queen Anne, Classical Revival, Beaux Arts, and Renaissance Revival styles, was designed by Oliver G. Traphagen and built by the Lucas Brothers for Walter Chamberlain Peacock as the first large hotel on Waikiki. Expanded in 1918 with the addition of two six-story concrete wings and a large rooftop addition on the original building, the hotel has changed scale and massing considerably from its original design, but maintains its original facade, roof, and decorative trim and ornament. The first hotel on Waikiki, the Moana featured 75 guest rooms with bathrooms and telephone service, a main parlor, salon, billiard room, and library, and a main reception area on the first floor, a grand staircase, ionic fluted columns inside the main lobby, an electric elevator, and an open two-story portion of the lobby ringed by balustrades on the second floor, with the hotel being considered very modern and luxurious for its time. In 1904, a banyan tree was planted in the courtyard on the ocean side of the hotel by Jared Smith, Director of the Department of Agriculture Experiment Station, which has since grown to be 75 feet tall and 150 feet wide. The hotel proved a bit too ambitious for the investment Peacock had put into it, and it was sold to Alexander Young in 1905 after encountering financial difficulties. Following Young’s death in 1910, the building became the property of the Territorial Hotel Company, founded by Young, which expanded the hotel with two wings in 1918, but went bankrupt during the Great Depression, with ownership then coming under the Matson Navigation Company. Various famous guests stayed at the hotel over the years, including the Prince of Wales and future King Edward VIII in 1920, author Agatha Christie and her husband in 1922, and Jane Stanford, co-founder of Stanford University, whom mysteriously died of strychnine poisoning in the hotel, though her murder remains unsolved. The original building features lots of classical Ionic columns, a hipped roof with broad overhanging eaves and brackets, clapboard siding, arched openings at the lanais with fleur-de-lis motif panels between them and supported by doric columns, decorative balustrades, one-over-one double-hung windows in singles and groups. In the center of the building is a tower with oxeye windows below the main roofline, doric pilasters on the corners, a lanai on the sixth floor with arched openings and a long row of french doors, and a tall porte cochere in the center of the first and second floors of the tower with fluted ionic columns, a roofline wrapped with a decorative balustrade, and an architrave featuring festoons, dentils, and brackets. The building also features lanais on the fifth floor below the roofline with decorative columns and sawn balustrades supported by brackets and featuring decorative trim, lanais with arched openings and sawn balustrades on the ends of the fifth floor of the original side wings, large arched openings at the base of the original side wings with large windows and juliet balconies, accented with circular panels featuring fleur-de-lis motifs, and crowned with another juliet balcony supported by columns, hipped dormers, and a multi-tier lanai on the rear of the building facing the ocean. The hotel was expanded with two Renaissance Revival-style six-story wings on either side in 1918, which featured concrete construction and stucco-clad exteriors with arched and rectangular double-hung one-over-one windows with decorative trim surrounds, open staircases on the front and rear facades with arched exterior openings, juliet balconies, small ionic columns, brackets, and corner pilasters, a hipped roof with broad overhanging bracketed eaves, small rooftop towers with hipped roofs, and arched vents, and pilasters at the corners of the wings themselves, dividing the side facades into three segments. After the construction of the wings in 1918, a large breezeway with double-hung windows making up most of the exterior was constructed across the ridge of the hipped roof of the original hotel building, running straight through the original building’s tower in the middle, which saw the addition of a similar rooftop tower with arched vents to the two 1918 wings. The hotel was renovated multiple times in the 20th Century, with the loss of the original porte cochere, reconfiguration of the interior, and the addition of bungalows across Kalakaua Avenue in 1925, which led to the hotel becoming known as the Moana-Seaside Hotel & Bungalows during the period between the 1920s and 1950s. A new hotel, known as the Surfrider, was built immediately Diamond Head of the Moana Hotel by the Matson Navigation Company in 1952, which stood 8 stories tall, towering over the older hotel next door. The hotel’s bungalows were demolished the following year and replaced by the Princess Kaiulani Hotel, with the Moana Hotel, Surfrider Hotel, and Princess Kaiulani Hotel being sold to Sheraton Hotels and Resorts in 1959. The Moana Hotel and Surfrider Hotel were sold to the Kyo-Ya Company, led by Japanese industrialist Kenji Osano, in 1963, but remained under the Sheraton banner. In 1969, a new and much taller Surfrider Hotel was built immediately Ewa of the Moana Hotel, with a new taller tower being added to the Princess Kaiulani Hotel in 1970. After the completion of the new Surfrider Hotel, the old Surfrider, built in 1952, became the Moana Ocean Lanai, and later, the Diamond Head Tower of the Moana Hotel. The Moana Hotel was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1972. In 1989, the Moana Hotel was restored under the direction of architect Virginia D. Murison to its 1920s exterior appearance, with the restoration of deteriorated exterior elements, interior common spaces, and reconstruction of the original porte cochere, as well as better integration of the historic hotel with the adjacent 1952 and 1969 buildings on either side. Now known as the Sheraton Moana Surfrider, the resort maintained the historic charm of the original Moana Hotel and conserved the hotel’s iconic banyan tree, while boasting 793 modern guest rooms, a new pool, with the project winning many preservation awards. The hotel has since been rebranded as the Westin Moana Surfrider Hotel.
Fall Colors - Tall Aspens, Rugged Terrain.
©Copyright 2017 Karlton Huber Photography - all rights reserved.
Autumn in the eastern Sierra is such a magical time of year. Each year is different and each autumn day is different as the color change progresses through the process. I found this year to be especially surprising because there seemed to be a lot of color change happening in some of the lower elevations ahead of some of the higher elevations that usually change first.
Then like in this scene, there is always the unsolved mystery of why trees not 10 feet apart can be in such different states of change. Some are full of beautiful yellow leaves while outers are already completely barren. I like to think that this is part of Gods plan. If all the leaves changed at the same time and progressed through the process (green, yellow, red , orange, brown and fallen) in unison the window of opportunity to enjoy some of God's finest work would be shortened dramatically. Luckily, God has a kind heart and has created a system that gives us plenty of time to catch at least part of the show each year.
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Outside The Barony Bar, Edinburgh — where the topics range from politics to pint preferences, and no world problem is left unsolved (at least until the next round).
Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual occurrences as originally chronicled. Some names, times, places and some facts have been, of course, altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 192__
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Event: Posh Wedding Reception
Place: Upstate New York
Time: Warm early Autumn Saturday
Angie Being Receptive
Story line:
Angie had heard about the affair, a wedding, from a list of prospective functions provided by a discreetly paid contact. It was being given for the only daughter of a wealthy politician (as if there were any non-wealthy ones!) Angie had happily invited herself to the affair, carefully dressing up in her best for the special occasion!
**
Wedding receptions were by far Angie’s favorite hunting grounds. During the season there could be anywhere from upwards of 20 high end affaires every weekend in the bigger cities, and always 2 or 3 in even the smallest of towns.
Wedding s were usually easy pickings: free food, drink and entertainment, and seldom worn jewelry made for a ready-made mix for Angie to ply her trade. For Angelica D. was a uniquely skilled pickpocket, specializing in the removal for profit of the expensive jewelry worn by the (usually be -gowned) women and young ladies’ who hauntingly dwelt in societies upper crust!
So Weddings, by their nature, were the desirable choice for Angie. One only had to avoid the Bride, her Bridesmaids, and their court, which were usually the major focus of any security present. However, there were plenty of opportunities to be had by employing her special bag of tricks on the outlaying fringe.
Angie had arrived early at the mammoth facility, to scout out the establishment and to scope out who was wearing what. Used to these affairs either being feast or famine, she could quickly tell that in this one there was cooking up a devouring banquet.
**
After Angie had entered the mammoth reception room it did not take her long to spy her first plump prospect, nicely loaded with possibilities. It was a lady, bearing a haughty look, who had been making a b-line through the crowd as way was parted for her. She was wearing a luxuriously long rusty coloured sable fur coat that hid most of her long crimson -red satin gown. What Jewels were visible, ears, fingers and wrist, were all flashing with pricy fire. In tow she held the hand of a young girl, obviously her daughter, wearing actual makeup, which, along with her fetching gown and brite jewelry, made her appear far older than she was. A handsome man , looking like the actor William Powell in a tux, followed behind the pair, husband and father, Angie presumed. She shadowed the little family as they swished their way to a corner table, conveniently located by a rear exit, for a better look over. Her fingers had started with an all too familiar tingle as she took it all in.
**
The husband helped his wife out of the sable, laying it carefully along a bench against the wall. Angie was not disappointed. A silver necklace of large matched diamonds gracefully encircled her throat. A dazzling blood ruby and diamond brooch held up the center of her gown, positioned just below the bust line. Brooches, like this one, were worth a lot once fenced, but its placement required a little more dexterity and skill than she was willing to risk. In actuality, Angie had only attempted twice before to take a brooch pinned to a gown in this fashion. She had only been successful one of those times, only to find out it was a pretty piece of paste.( Years later, as Angie’s talents became more polished, relieving ladies of their dangling brooches, like this blood ruby, became her specialty.. the Eds.) Angie’s eyes moved on. The rest of the snooty lady’s jewels matched her necklace. Long earrings, free clipped, dangling brightly from her earlobe s. A pair of wide ruby bracelets clasped tightly home around elegant red elbow length satin gloves, sparkled devastatingly, matching her brooch. Her long fingers were home to a pair of ruby and diamond rings and a third ring set with a gold band and a vulgarly large solitaire diamond.
**
Angie’s attention turned to the daughter, whom had been helped by her Father , squirming, from the chocolate coloured satin cape that she had been wearing. The youngster, all of about 10, was wearing a cream coloured long puffy sleeved dress with a brown satin sash encircling her waist that matched her Cape. The young lady possessed impossible large bright eyes. The only thing that held more shine than those doe like eyes had been the antique rhinestone diamond necklace that fell dripping ever so invitingly down the front of the precious little imp’s rich glossy gown. The rest of her matching rhinestones (obviously belonging to the child’s mother) consisted of an engaging display of a bracelet, pair of dangling, screwed on clasp earrings, and matching rings encircling a chubby finger one on each hand. It all gleamed brightly, invitingly from her svelte girlish figure. A large round pin held her sash up in place; it sparkled with what looked like a ring consisting of one caret diamonds, as unlikely as it was they could be real.
**
The two females of the family presented a pretty package indeed. Not one to pass up an invite that alluring, Angie walked by , with the pretext of heading to a back exit behind the table the little family had staked, just so she could get a closer peek.
**
Angie’s practiced eye took in a wealth of information during the few seconds it took her to walk up and pass the group, so involved with themselves they never even looked her way. Her attention focused upon the young mother first scoping head to toe.
**
Angie scrutinized the brooch; it was definitely worth the effort. In her mind’s eye, Angie envisioned the mother as a stumbling drunk “bumping into” Angie. Fingers whisking along the slippery lustrously softness of the gown, as the lady was steadied. Angie would accept the women apologies and the pair would part their ways, Angie from the young mother, and the magnificent brooch from the rich satiny red gown. But then the mother raised her head, looking up past Angie, towards a commotion being made behind her. Typical Angie thought, she doesn’t recognize me, so I don’t exist, like some sort of servant. But it was as she caught the young mother in full profile that she realized this lady looked strikingly similar to another woman who had been wearing an expensive dress of teal charmeuse that Angie had had been having a long conversation with, while relieving the woman’s finger of a costly diamond sapphire ring. It had happened only just last weekend at a formal function, and Angie figured she may have not recognized her in passing, but may if Angie were to use one of her approaches again with the intent of taking some of her jewelry, he memory may be jarred, and she may remember her missing ring. This was why Angie only allowed herself to ply her trade for no more than a month in any given place per year. This was from a lesson she had learned early on in her career. And so, for that reason alone, Angie decided to, at least temporarily, abandon any designs she had on the young mother’s brooch, allowing her devious intentions to evaporate from her mind like smoke on the wind. There were plenty more fish in the sea she told herself.
**
Angie still allowed herself a quick appraisal of the squirming 10 year old. She admired the glossy dress of slippery satin that her mother had conveniently dressed her daughter up in, as it fell spilling down to her black open toed shoes. Angie’s fingers started to tingle; this was a perfect tickling gown. Angie liked to think of any long dress or gown that swept down to a females heels as a” tickling gown”. All it took was a strategically placed foot timed with a well place nudge to send the chosen victim tumbling. During the ensuing diversion, Angie would use her long subtle fingers to swiftly probe along the gowned figure, tickling she like to call it due to the tingling sensation of the usually rich material of the victim’s attire. In this fashion, a pre-targeted piece of valuable jewelry could then be easily acquired, no matter what its placement had been on the unfortunate female. If only the chatty youngster had something on better than rhinestones. It was a crying shame to have a child that young dolled up like an adult, but not wearing adult jewels.
**
Angie continued to walk past, unseen, and went out the door. She found herself in a large serenity garden of roses and shrubs, surrounded by a 10 foot high well-trimmed hedge. The sort of garden one usually found in those days around upscale Churches. The only exit was a gate leading onto the parking lot on the side of the church. Here was positioned a solitary, lonely guard in a neat little guard hut. In the opposite, far corner was a statue of Cupid, arrow drawn, standing above a display of blooming moss roses at the end opposite to the gate. There was always potential in places like these.
**
Angie had started to walk over to the Cupid statue when she heard the exit door open. Turning, she saw the young girl, whose mother’s brooch Angie had been scoping out, looking out the door. She snuck through, running out alone, silky tickling gown swishing out behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched the girls rhinestones sparkle radiantly. She actually turned to head towards the path the unsuspecting child was running up, flexing her fingers as she contemplating a little warm up practice. Angie watched as the dolled up imps necklace flashed with pinpricks of coloure as it bounced to and fro as she ran happily up the path .Angie turned her back to the girl, waiting to hear the telltale click of her heels come up just behind her. She would then move, bumping into the girl as she passed, tripping her to the ground. After which Angie would help her up, removing the girl’s fancy necklace in the process. Come to Mama Angie whispered under her breath, waiting to make her move as the skipping heels grew ever louder.
**
But then Angie froze, hearing the clicking of the exit door again opening behind her. She checked her stride letting the daughter slither past without a glance. She headed again towards the statue, watching her prize move on ahead. Then she heard the father in the background calling out to his little princess. The youngster turned, and ran back, beaming at Angie as she passed. Angie smiled back, her eyes again traveling to the girls neckline, and the sparkling jewelry the outlined her throat. It had been a silly thought she chided herself, as the girl passed from view. If only the necklace had been real, and the father about ten minutes later in discovering his daughter absence. It would have been an unbelievably easy pluck and she could be out the gate before anyone was the wiser. And the best part was that they would probably believe the scampering girl had just lost it in the garden. And, while the parents were looking about, Angie would have been free to renter to ply her trade again. As it was, it was silly of Angie, risking her opportunity on a child’s bauble worth a mere pittance compared to some of the other offerings so readily being flaunted this evening by her adult counterparts.
**
Angie continued her casual stroll through the Garden, happily playing over in her mind some of the jewels that she would like to see adorning the female guests inside, and the scenarios she may be using to acquire them
**
Finding herself approaching the guard hut, she allowed herself a glance back. Jealously she watched the father, who had caught and was carrying his slippery attired daughter, heading back inside. How Angie wished she had been the one carrying the squirming little imp, it would have been like a smorgasbord, with jewels instead of food. Pity her mother had not put the good stuff on the daughter, she sighed to herself. Tonight she would have to work for her butter. She walked past the bored guard, nodding at him, receiving a rather lecherous look in return. A smile was forming across her cunning face, for now it was time to get down to the real business at hand.
**
The affair turned out to be quite a showcase for the very rich. Who were indiscreetly flaunting their riches, trying to outdo one another, probably for the benefit of the politicians’ attention? Certainly not for the attention of the designer satin gowned and flashy diamonded daughter, whom most of the guests hardly knew, or had ever met.
**
Angie always felt like a little kid in a candy shoppe at these lavish affairs.
She spent the first part of the reception mingling and thoroughly enjoying the show her the reception’s guests were u wittingly putting on. Angie, wearing no jewels herself, was something of an anomaly compared to her fellow guests.
**
There were over a thousand luxuriously coloured, squawking female birds and their young chicks pompously displaying valuable finery, oblivious of the cat amongst them waiting to pounce. Angie patently mingled, watching as the adult guests had their fill of food and drink.
Once their guard began to relax, Angie raised hers’, her probingly skillful fingers now more than prepared to begin and ply her trade. For the more they imbibed, the less guarded they were, both about themselves and their female offspring. Angie would start with the adults, 2 or 3 of the right pieces of jewelry, once acquired, and would mean she could call it a night and have enough to support her for a solid month. If she came up empty in that department, her back up would then center on the female off-spring, daughters and nieces.
Most of said offspring would be by then scattered about, aware that their parents were no longer paying them any heed, exploring and playing, sporting their fancy satin gowns, silken dresses, and their dainty jewelry, ripe for the picking. Giving pickpockets like Angie endless opportunity to ply their trade on them, once they had finished working through the adults. Or if the thieves were beginners, plenty of easy practice while “learning the ropes!”
**
Now, when Angie herself was just starting out as a young pickpocket, she stumbled across a treatise written by a man using the pseudonym “Gaston Monescu”. Written around 1826, entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets.
Angie had studied it religiously, especially a ploy called the “Necklace Flimp.” This tactic was primarily used for body thieves working alone. Angie had been surprised to learn that a pickpocket could raise his/her skill level above just acquiring wallets. Having the ability to lift a woman’s necklace amazed her, not to mention the profit that could be realized. With practice, Angie had found that not only was it a good technique for acquiring necklaces, but it worked for other pieces of worn jewelry as well.
It was relatively simple process, but took a long time to master.
First part was to employ psychology and watch the potential victim for the unique movements and quirks in their personality and actions that could provide an opportunity for her skills. Then observe the selected piece the victim wore, for value, type of clasp, make, and accessibility. The second part was to employ a bump, slip, or grasp, and in one motion, flick open the studied clasp and send the piece away from the body by either pulling and palming, or dropping it to the floor or ground for retrieval later. If she was noticed, it was “sorry, miss, very clumsy of me” “here let me get if for you, no harm done?” Then walk away and let the waters settle before trying yet again (sometimes even on the same person!)
Angie had practiced the jewelry flimp until she had the technique totally mastered. Starting out first on specially dressed up mannequins in her apartment, than trying it on small pieces of cheap baubles worn by real women in crowded streets and stores. Then on younger, less guarded, better jewelry wearing young girls attending proms and social dances. Young looking for her age at the time, Angie had fit right in amongst them. Then, finally, she graduated to lifting the better jewels of the older, wealthy women attending society’s finer parties and receptions. And it was this path that led her here today, and would also lead several unlucky females to report missing jewelry to their respective insurance companies.
**
See Album “Angie having a Ball” for additional background on our master thief with the light fingers.
**
Angie now eagerly employed those useful talents learned from monsieur Monescu’s little pamphlet at the wedding reception. She mingled freely, carrying around a drink that never touched her lips. She watched and learned, her trained eyes missing very little. Soon, like that hypothetical kid in a candy shoppe, Angie’s head was spinning from so much to choose from that she really could not make any easy choice. So, she waited and watched patiently, knowing opportunity would knock.
**
Then, like it usually happened with Angie, the first genuine opportunity unexpectedly presented herself. Angie literally was run into a rather awkward, spindly lady in thick glasses clad in a fetchingly expensive costume consisting of a thick silver satin blouse with hanging ruffles down its front, combined with a long rustling tiered skirt that swept down to the top of her open toed silver high heels. Her diamond jewelry shone with exuberant flames as they caught the light from the many chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling. The lady expressed frantically her apologies, placing a hand with well ringed fingers on Angie’s shoulder, where they sparkled merrily. No worries Angie said smiling, her eyes taking it all in without appearing to move. She let the frazzled lady leave, allowing her a head start, it was only sporting to do so.
**
Angie shadowed her quarry for a while, seemingly rewarded for her efforts when the lady managed to spill a bit of her drink down on her skirt. In a show of flashing silvery satin and diamonds ,she retreated and disappeared into a nearby powder room, with Angie following eagerly, opportunity knocking.
**
As Angie grabbed onto the closing powder room door, a mid- twenty something girl in a deep green velvet gown came out. Her only jewelry was a wide diamond bracelet wrapped around a wrist of the matching long green gloves she wore. Angie caught it out of the corner of her eye, realizing that it was as expensive as it was bright. But it was her friend, a willowy short haired pretty young thing in a glamorous Chocolate Satin gown that made Angie’s jaw drop. Her jewels, like her friends, were also sparse, but enormously pricy. The long white satin gloves that graced her hands and arms also held matching bracelets, thin, but each one worth the effort. But her real eye catcher was the row of authentic, one caret white diamonds that were rippling exquisite fire along her throat. Angie held the door for them, nodding to as they passed. Noses in the air, they did not appear to notice Angie. Then, with the ladies backs to her, Angie abandoned Miss silver satin and turned to follow. Angie got in behind the two with the intention of getting a closure examination of the clasp of the fiery diamond necklace Miss Chocolate satin was wearing.
**
However, Angie never got her closer look. For at that moment the tossing of the bride’s boutique was announced and Angie was overwhelmed by a mad dash of single ladies heading for the bride. On a lark she allowed herself to be swept along, losing sight of Miss Chocolate satin, but found herself right smack behind Miss Green velvet and her cheerfully sparkling diamond bracelet, a beautifully expensive piece that would have cost someone a king’s ransom. Angie’s fingers began their all too familiar tingling, eager for a chance to acquire jewelry that valuable, but not for any king, just for herself!
**
Though the night was still relatively early, and Angie still had visions of those exquisite rippling diamonds of the pretty Miss in chocolate satin on her mind, she simply could not pass up this opportunity. Angie wedged herself close behind her chosen victim as the multitude of hopeful young women pressed forward to try their luck. As the Bride teased her guests before getting ready to toss her bouquet of white and red roses, Angie expertly scrutinized the bracelet as it dangled from the green velvet glove. When the bride finally turned her back and raised her arms every one of the richly clad single women’s eyes was focused on the bride’s bouquet, Angie’s eyes were fixated on the bracelet. With the music playing loud, the crowd giggling and laughing, and all eyes focused on the gorgeously outfitted young long haired bride, Angie again felt opportunity knocking. Her pulse beating in rhythm with the music, she made ready to seize the chance when it presented itself. The roses flew through the air and all the women raised their hands high, looking all for the world like being involved in a stick-up. Angie timed it perfectly, snapping the clasp, and snatching the bracelet easily away from the gloved wrist of its owner as she raised her arms high to grab at the boutique. In her excitement, shared by everyone, Miss Green velvet ( who did not catch the bouget of roses) never felt a thing. Angie had smirked as she left the giggling group, stowing securely the purloined diamonds, as she imagined what it would have been like to watch that group robbed in a mass stick-up. The money that some enterprising soul could have made from that haul would have been astronomical.
**
She went to the open bar, lighting her first cigarette; she ordered her first real drink of the night. She could feel the coolness of the weighty bracelet in its hiding spot, and Angie, pleased with herself, calmly sipped her drink as she relished in the moment. The toss of the Brides Boutique was, in Angie’s experienced opinion, one of the three common events occurring during a wedding reception that were fertilely prime times for pickpocketing. (Editor’s note.. Miss D. mysteriously never divulged what she considered the other two prime events to be….)
**
She looked about without a worry in the world, coolly watching the antics of some of the younger women on the dance floor. She spied the young miss in the green velvet gown over in a corner talking in an animated fashion with several other women. Green velvet gown’s now bare velvet glove, apparently not noticed by anyone but Angie. One of her group was displaying some bright emeralds peeking through the long silver fur she was wearing, obviously she was leaving, and she was talking excitedly about something to the group formed around her! Nowhere in sight was Miss chocolate satin, too bad, Angie would have loved another peek before leaving.
Angie watched around the room causally, as the cold bracelet pressed expensively against her figure from its hiding spot. She eventually lost track of green velvet and her friends while finishing her drink. Setting down the empty glass, she decided it was time to call it a night. The bracelet now in her possession was easily worth as much as the 2 or 3 separate pieces she usually acquired at functions like these, added together! And, she needed her rest, Angie had a couple of plans the next day, one revolving around the female guests who would be attending an upscale afternoon prom fashion show a, the other, an evening opera performance (invited guests only, and her contact had managed to supply a ticket, at a hefty price!) No rest for the wicked, Angie told herself.
**
On her way out of the main lobby, she found herself leaving behind the very lady in green velvet whose bracelet was now in Angie’s possession. She was with the same gaggle of her similarly dressed friends, including the one exhibiting the emeralds. However, miss chocolate satin was still not visible. They were laughing and joking as they collected their assorted pretty wraps, obviously heading for a nightclub. If she had not already relieved one of them of a bauble, Angie might have invited herself along, if only to have a go at some emeralds. Angie hesitated about leaving withy them, then shrugged, followed the group out the door past the pair of bored rent a cops.
**
She remembered thinking, as she followed the elegant young princesses ,their fluid gowns peeking from under their various furs and wraps, how shallow the very rich could be. She wondered if Miss Green velvets friends had even noticed that she had had diamonds around the wrist of her glove, let alone that they were now missing. She wondered how long it would be before the bracelets loss was discovered. She figured it would be several hours, long enough for its owner not to be sure what place they had been lost. As young Miss Green velvet fancy gown and her friends turned right outside the exit, Angie turned left, heading towards the guard hut at the entrance to the garden.
She decided not to follow them but rather circle around the outside of the garden to give her victim time to leave.
**
That simple decision to make a left turn proved to be a major turning point in Angie’s fortunes that evening.
**
As Angie passed the hut guarding the entrance to the serenity garden, she noticed it was deserted.
It was as she was looking it over, that she heard the sounds of clicking heels moving fast, followed by the sounds of a young girl giggling. On the alert she stole to the backside of the hut, soon spying a splash of something blue and silky between the gaps of a couple of large bushes. Her senses on their highest peak, she began to move cautiously in, hoping the female making the noise would be in need of aid and comfort perhaps.
**
She soon spotted a young lady of about 14 bending over, hands on her knees as she panted heavily. Her back was to Angie, and what pretty back it was. She was nicely attired in a long gown of shiny material dyed deep blue like an afternoon, cloudless summer sky. The gown cascaded down along her petite figure, spilling out on the ground around her feet. Her hair was pulled back, easily displaying a pair of small diamond and sapphire earrings, not rhinestones for this one, but the real McCoy. Around one finger was a gold ring with sapphires, and from her left wrist dangled a thin silver bracelet with a row of diamond chips, both pretty, both valuably real. But it was her last piece of visible jewelry that stole the show. It hung, swinging to and from her neck on a thick braided chain of solid silver. On its end, like a hypnotists prism, was a silver pendent in the shape of a flower, with 1 inch long, pear shaped real diamonds as petals and a fully 2 inch in circumference center stone of deep sea blue. Angie watched it, her eyes following it for a full minute, its expensive fire sealing its own fate as Angie began flexing her fingers. Angie took her eyes off of it and looked around to see why the princess had been running. But all was still as the girl continued to peek through the branches towards the back door leading into the hall. Angie silently approached, and walking up to the pretty miss she bent down and in a friendly tone, asked who she was running from.
**
I played a joke on my sister, and now I’m hiding from her, piped the girl breathlessly, as Angie placed a hand upon the girls shoulder in a conspiratorial fashion, said shoulder made silky soft by the gowns half sleeve.
**
I know a better place where you can hide from her, Angie whispered in the girl’s ear, the dangling earring ever so close to her lips. The girl looked up, smiling, and Angie pointed towards the guard hut, and as the girl looked, Angie’s fingers glided up along the silky shoulder and lifted the thick silver chain up from the back of the gowns’ scooped collar. Come Angie said, and as the girl rose Angie’s fingers nimbly flicked open the chains’ lobster clasp, holding onto the clasp as the other end of the chain slipped down, allowing the pendent to slide free and fall onto the grass at the girls feet, where it lay shimmering. Angie moved her hand to the girls shoulder, squeezing it, while slipping off the braided silver chain with her other hand, whisking it back and away from the guileless young girl. Angie led her princess away from the spot and walked with her to the guard’s hut, still empty, where she had her hide neath the counter.
**
Angie turned and went back to claim the pendent, there still was no sign of any sister. She secured the pendent, joining it with the chain and bracelet, and headed deeper into garden. Her plan was to watch the hut and see which way the girl went after getting bored waiting. But as she skirted the perimeter her plans were changed when, upon rounding a corner of the path at the far end, she saw yet another back belonging to a solitary lady in her late thirties, clad in a long slinky yellow coloured gown of expensively shiny taffeta, bending over to smell the yellow roses on a bush. Instinctively Angie knew two things about her. One was that whatever jewels this lady would be wearing, they would be expensive, and the other was that with an expensive gown like that; the lady would undoubtedly be wearing her jewels. Angie suddenly became aware that her fingers were tingling, as an all too familiar whelming feeling again delightfully washed over her.
**
Angie found herself automatically turning back onto the garden path. She headed around the women and went down to the cupid’s statue, where now out of sight, she carefully hid the purloined bracelet, and still warm fiery pendent and its ‘fancy silvery braided chain..
**
She then headed towards the unsuspecting flower admirer. The ladies’ long brunette hair had fallen, flowing down the backside of her shiny taffeta gown. Angie could see rings and a bracelet gleaming as she was holding up the rose to her face. A long double rope of pearls hung swaying deliciously from her throat. Coming up behind her Angie stood watching; calculating until the lady rose and with a start realized she was not alone.
**
Pretty Angie said, her eyes on the pearls now draping down the front of her marks yellow gown. They are lovely, are they not? The damsel responded thinking Angie was referring to the roses. Just like the ones in the park, my husband and I walked through on our way to catch a cab today. Actually, I meant your dress Angie said complimentary. Thank you the lady practically squealed, I love the way it flows, and she swirled it about to show Angie, who got an eyeful of sparkly jewelry for her efforts. As she continued engaging the women in conversation, Angie decided upon attempting for the woman’s necklace of pearl. Seeing opportunity knocking when Yellow Taffeta pulled her long hair forward so it hang down the front of her gorgeous gown, laying silkily over one shoulder, nicely exposing the pricy necklaces clasp. Angie looked around, they were alone, out of site of the opposite end of the garden where the inside door was, and the guards hut with it’s pretty occupant.
**
Angie, using the marks interest in roses to her advantage, managed to steer the capricious damsel in shiny yellow over to the cupid’s statue. There, she placed a hand upon a silky taffeta covered shoulder, and pointed down to the shrub of moss roses growing at the foot of the statue . When she stooped down to get a closer look, Angie’s fingers whisked from her marks shoulder to the clasp, in a single effort with two fingers, lifted it by the clasp, and snapped it open. At that moment the mark cried “spider” and jumped up, backing into Angie, who watched helplessly as the pearls fell down from the damsel’s throat and slipped along the front of the yellow taffeta gown. They fell with a soft plop unto the ground at their mistress’s feet. Angie tried to lead her away, hoping to come back and reclaim the necklace. But as Angie pointed to another rose bush some distance away, the lady took a step forward, instead of back, planting her feet right onto the pearl necklace. Hey she exclaiming, what’s that, looking down to her high heeled foot? Oh, my pearls the lady squealed again, a glittering hand shooting to feel around her throat. Angie reached down, and reluctantly retrieved them from the base of the rose bush for the squealing lady in yellow . My husband would not have been pleased if I had lost these, she said as Angie held them, feeling their pricey smoothness.
**
She asked if Angie could help her put them on, my maid usually does this sort of thing, you know. Angie reluctantly complied, re- hanging the pearls as the pretty damsel held up her hair, and reluctantly redid the clasp. The Damsel thanked Angie by embracing her in a full hug, her diamond and pearl earring hitting Angie’s cheek. But Angie’s arms were being held by the hugging woman, so Angie was able to only watch the tantalizingly close earring sway free. Angie left yellow-gowned damsel in the garden, getting nothing for her efforts other than the feel of an expensive gown of the likes she could probably never afford to own.
**
With the pretty damsel hovering around the cupid statue, Angie decided to go back into the reception hall until the coast was clear. She carefully looked towards the Guards hut, and seeing that the guard had returned, figured the girl, so fetchingly clad in blue, had been rousted out, so that loose end was probably tied up. She just had to keep a careful eye out. The quite valuable bracelet and pricy necklace with its pendent were well hidden; there was absolutely no danger of someone stumbling over it.
**
Truth was, Angie had found her appetite wetted and once again visions of a lady in chocolate brown satin exhibiting a row of flashy diamonds, teased her thoughts. An accomplished pickpocket like herself had a couple of well-practiced ploys she could utilize to obtain a tight fitting necklace from its mistress. In addition, Angie was now determined to find her and to risk a try. She had really nothing to lose.
**
It took almost an hour of hunting amongst the now well liquored, gaily mingling crowd before Angie could admit to herself that there was absolutely no sign of the willowy lady in the stunning chocolate satin gown. Damn she thought to herself, those diamonds were something special. She shrugged it off, reciting in her mind a wicked little mantra of hers, “Another one who got away, a chance to lose her jewels to Angie on another day!” She strolled about pondering on what her next course of action could be. There had been no sign of the pretty girl in blue whose necklace Angie now had hidden away, and Miss Green Velvet was definitely out of the picture, so she felt that it was still safe to try to pluck one last bird or chick. In her hunt for the brown, Angie had seen several inviting prospects; one lady(purple satin, diamonds), two girls( ivory silk, pearled pin; red satin, gold necklace set with chips of precious stones), and now was weighing the risks.
It was at that point she once again espied the thickly bespectacled awkwardly introverted young lady invitingly wearing the thick silver satin ruffled blouse, which she had been tailing much earlier. And as Angie watched here, she again accepted the invitation. Her prey had appeared on the dance floor, being led around by a rather charming young man. That would make a dandy consolation prize Angie drooled to herself happily as she took in the sparkling show put on by the dancers jewels.
**
Angie looked her over, reacquainting herself with the jewels she so nicely was displaying. A pair of long earrings cascaded down from her earlobes where they precariously held on by antique silver claps. Angie relished the opportunity to “flimp” pairs of earrings like these. Heavily jeweled, each one was worth a tidy sum. Angie mulled this as she continued to study the jewels of her appealingly dressed new target.
**
The girl’s only ring was a solitaire diamond of at least 3 carets on a thick solid gold band worn vulnerably loose on her un-gloved, bare ring finger. A wide silver cuff bracelet with what appeared to be at least seven rows of matching, shimmering diamonds was dangling around her left wrist (she was right handed Angie observed) . The bracelet had a habit of lying over her sleeve, and Angie could see that it was a costly tiffany piece, whose clasp was exceptionally easy to flick open. A diamond pendent hung swinging from her satiny ruffles, held by an extravagantly thick silver chain with a simple , small eye in hook clasp. The Diamonds in the pendent were as shimmery as stars plucked from the night’s sky.
Angie remembered reading that in a poem from a book she had picked up years earlier in a library, while stalking a young mother in a satin dress, wearing an authentic Gruen Watch on one wrist, and a bracelet of diamonds on the other, that had gone into the library in pursuit of her young son running inside. Like that young mother, It was obvious that this lady in silver satin was not accustomed to wearing jewels, and that set probably spent most of their days lying in a safe. Angie licked her lips as she imagined what the other contents of that safe might look like
**
Angie moved in to allow herself a much closer appraisal of her potential victim’s jewels.
The young lady was totally oblivious to anything but the rather surprisingly strikingly handsome man who to all appearances was her Fiancée, who was holding her ever so close. But Angie was able to see enough of what she wanted to. The young Ladies’ thick satin blouse shone richly in the lights, moving like glistening wet liquid silver, while from her waist spilled the long black skirt with satiny tiers that swished and swayed nicely along her figure as she uneasily danced. Her jewels were bursting with colour as they played hide and seek with Angie’s watchful eyes. From all appearances, they were a mismatched couple. He seemed to know everyone and moved with a confident air, she was just the opposite. It made an enticingly intriguing package indeed for someone with Angie’s skills.
**
Silver Satin was the perfect “Gaston Monescu” type of mark, a perfect combination of classic mannerisms, clothing and Jewels worth anyone’s efforts to take. This was the only fly in the ointment that Angie observed. For by the bar she could see that two other sets of eyes were watching the same young lady in shiny satin and blazing diamonds. Angie intuitively knew they were drooling over acquiring jewels she was wearing.
**
She had noticed the pair of young men in loose fitting suits when they had entered a little earlier about the same time as Angie’s reappearance. They were obviously casing the jewels of any woman, young, or old, who walked past them. Angie knew their type, simple thieves, with no real skills outside of holding a knife in a dark alley to the throat of their victim while they unceremoniously searched and stripped them of their treasures. Angie saw that they were whispering amongst themselves and instinctively knew they were watching and waiting for the fetchingly clumsy silver clad lady clad loaded with diamonds, to leave the “establishment”.
**
She is mine Angie whispered, possessively snarling the words under her breath. She looked around as she thought about how best to handle the situation. Her eyes opened wide as she saw a familiar woman waiting by the coat checkroom. Perfect she purred, placing an unlit a cigarette in her mouth and heading over the bar.
**
She sauntered up next to them and ordered a drink, catching their eyes she asked for a light. As they obliged she took a pull and puffed out smoke, asking in a casual tone, “how about my jewels? Boys!” They could see perfectly well that she was not wearing any, and one snarled, “What’s your game, sister?” Angie snarled back in her best cop like manner, “We know what you boys are up to, and we suggest you both call it a night!” “Yer no cop sister”, they challenged, calling her bluff,” what’s your angle!” Angie calmly looked towards the entrance, perfect she mused as she saw their eyes follow hers, “Maybe not” she stated, “but see that lady being helped into the black mink?” “The shiny yellow dame?” one of em asked? “ “yes”, Angie replied taking a puff on her cigarette before going on, “ well that man’s she’s with used to be mine .” “ Now, I aint one to hold a grudge, but, those pearls she’s waltzing around with are worth plenty. And her rings, they are an easy two grand alone.”
**
Angie could tell she had captured their interest, and that they were now paying rapt attention to the lady in the thick yellow taffeta gown whose necklace Angie had almost acquired in the serenity garden. One of them looked at Angie, a suspicious look crossing his mug, “What’s innit for you sister?!” He demanded. Angie looked at him, dripping with sarcastic innocence. “Nothing brother, other than to make sure the jewels of the dame who stole my husband get home safely .” “I just worry,’ Angie went on, “there is a park in front of their residence and that dame in yellow likes to stroll through it to smell the roses after their cab drops them off.” They watched the couple leave, her expensive yellow gown sweeping provocatively at her gold high- heeled shoed feet. Angie looked them in the eyes and said smoothly, “ Gentlemen such as yourselves may want to do a good deed and follow them home to make sure some miscreant doesn’t spot her in those valuable jewels and mink. Not to mention her man’s gold watch and three hundred sawbucks in his wallet!” Angie winked at the pair, “If you catch my drift.” She added.
**
Still not totally convinced about what Angie was selling them, but equally unsure over who Angie was, both men got up and quickly headed towards the main exit as the last slip of an expensive yellow taffeta gown disappeared through the door. Smugly, Angie puffed on her cigarette as she watched them leave.
**
It was then that a hand was placed on Angie’s shoulder from behind.
**
She froze for a split second, before becoming aware of the soft mummer of satin, and of a slender finger was home to a sparkling sapphire ring. Angie smiled and turned around, facing the girl. Pardon me ma’am, she says politely, but do you remember me? Of course dear, Angie gushes while beaming at the forlorn looking miss in the fetching blue gown; I met you in the garden. Yes she confirms, but I lost my necklace somewhere and I was wondering if you remember if I had it on when we met? Angie’s heart leapt, bless this babe in the woods, thinking her necklace had merely been lost, never suspecting that someone like, say, Angie could have been the cause. She absolutely adored the trusting nature of rich girls this age. For that aspect of their purity had allowed Angie, far too easily sometimes, to lift many a jewel from well attired unsuspecting young princesses like this one. Who was now standing before her, miserable, her desirable diamond and sapphire earrings dangling ever so beckoningly, her sad puppy eyes pleading ever so sweetly, and her missing necklace closer than she could ever imagine.
**
No dear, I did not see you with a necklace, Angie lied coolly, as she reached out and stroked the girl tenderly alongside her face, her fingers touching one of the earrings. Angie was looking her fully in the eye, you didn’t lose anything else, and did you dear she asked with a concerned tone. The girl checked her earrings, bracelet and ring (Angie smiled to herself, silently thinking thanks for the info kid!) But when she spoke, it was with hopeful words laced with honey, If you want, I can help you look, my dear. The girl’s eyes lit up for a second, thank you ma’am, I wanted to, but papa said to wait until tomorrow when the light is better.
Angie smiled winningly, don’t worry dear, I’m sure its somewhere in the garden. Someone will find it, she promised, thinking to herself maliciously, and keep it for their own profit!
**
Thank you Ma’am she chirped, at the encouraging words that had been spoken, luckily she could not hear the ones Angie was thinking to herself, and turning moved off, her scrumptious gown swishing pleasantly around her silver heels. Angie watched, as the girl disappeared in the crowd Angie marked her direction.
**
Angie Imagined if the girl had accepted her offer, and she had left with the vulnerable, unguarded princess to search in the garden, and in the process help relieve her of her remaining jewels. There would be enough light with the gas lamps that lined the paths in the garden. Enough light, so that as Angie helped the princess look, her fingers could slip ever so delicately slip in and search along her shiny sky blue gown.
**
Angie licked her lips slowly as she fantasied about the search. The girl bending down to look under a bush, Angie placing her knee sharply in a certain spot below the girl’s armpit, temporarily numbing her upper body. Allowing Angie enough time to pull off both her earrings without feeling it,( this also worked well on working off broaches placed in upper parts of gowns and dresses, not to mention necklaces!) The bracelet would be no problem; it would be the easiest and probably the first, snatched off while the rich girl’s attention was easily diverted away. Since she was not wearing silky gloves, her ring would be the trickiest, but manageable, by either having her walk too close to a water fountain and hopefully having her get her fingers wet, or by simple holding onto her hand and tripping her by stepping on her gowns hem. And just like that, Angie would become that much richer, the rich girl that much poorer. And it all would be done without giving the girl any additional stress, like say she had run into the two muggers Angie had chased off. They may not have been content with just the jewels of a girl dressed as she was that they had found wandering alone in the gardens at night.
**
As Angie excitedly thought about these things, she had trained her focus back upon her original meal ticket, whom for the second time that evening had almost been allowed to slip through Angie’s light fingers. Watching with half lidded eyes, the still dancing couple not unlike a wolf watches lambs, waiting for one to make an ill-fated move away from the flock. The lamb’s fate was sealed, when a vivacious blonde in a long wispy silken dress cut in on the dancing couple. Asking miss silver satin’s fiancé for a dance. He obliged, leaving his shimmering fiancée unaccompanied, nakedly exposed to the wolf that was Angie.
**
More than one way to skin a cat Angie thought, tingling from the thrill of the hunt her prey, now in a reachable situation. She happily headed towards the spot where Miss silver satin had moved off to. A small table, located conveniently by a powder room. One the way she grabbed a half full glass of red wine off a table. Angie circled around young miss silver satin, taking a position up about two table lengths behind her. She casually scoured the area; most of the nearby tables were deserted.
Knowing the band would stop playing soon for the evening; most of the couples were out on the dance floor. All in all, the situation presented the perfect opportunity for some one of Angie’s persuasion.
**
Angie watched as the young lady picked up a glittery silver clutch and opening it, started to search inside. Angie moved swiftly, catching up behind her , tripping intentionally into her, splashing some wine onto the front of the silver satin blouse as the unfortunate lady dropped her purse in surprise. Oh my gosh, I did not see you, miss silver satin pleaded apologetically to Angie, more concerned over Angie’s feelings than her soiled satin blouse. Angie accepted her apology and, producing a lacey silk handkerchief, began to wipe themselves both down.
Angie’s practiced eyes swiftly took it all in. Miss silver satin’s pretty earrings swaying out vulnerably from her long straggly hair as it fell into her face. The clasp of her necklace was also exposed and within easy grasp. A s she reached out for the floor to steady herself, Angie’s eyes took in the sparkling ring on her now wetted finger and then watched the wide bracelet with its’ easily open able clasp slip up glitteringly over her sleeve.
The girl, now thoroughly flustered, started to rise, tripping over her slippery long skirt( with no help from Angie) Angie caught her, taking advantage of the split second opening she had been waiting for and Angie took it, making her selection as she steadied the poor thing with one hand, as the other caressed along a slick silver satin back. Angie’s long supple fingers darted in and deftly did their trick, this time with no spiders interfering. She quickly removed her chosen glittery prize from the distracted lady, who never noticed so much as a prick as Angie removed the expensive piece from her person in the confusion.
**
Angie secreted he shiny jewel as she helped miss silver satin collect herself. Than they rose, and Angie happily accepted miss silver satin profuse and obviously well used, apology. Then, as she fumbled nervously with her thick glasses, Angie laid a calming hand upon her shoulder, her fingers relishing in the richness of her victims sleek ruffled blouse. Miss silver satin was by now so distracted and embarrassed that Angie was all but assured of a clean get away.
However, as an extra measure of caution Angie intentionally jarred silver satin’s elbow of the hand steadying her eye glasses. Thus sending her glasses falling from her face to the floor with a small clatter, then Angie kicked them under a table before the startled lady could react. Angie offered to help, but the lady implored that she was okay, just needed to find her glasses. Angie left as Miss silver satin started to frantically grope around for her glasses, her silver blouse and remaining jewels shimmering brightly along their miserable mistress..
Angie took her leave, knowing that once she found her glasses, Miss silver satin would flee for sanctuary into the ladies powder room, buying her more than enough time for Angie to make her escape. Taking one last look over the dance floor, she blithely saw that miss silver satins fiancé was still in the clutches of the vivacious blonde-haired girl, still safely out of the picture. Angie made her way with purpose to the rear exit leading to the garden that she had used earlier, intending to head out into the serenity garden to collect the hidden bracelet and pendent, adding them to her purloined plunder.
**
As she walked amongst the mostly deserted tables, her mind went to the woman in yellow taffeta and imagined that right about now she would be standing with raised arms and a forlorn look. Ruefully wincing as the man who was holding her mink busily stripped those luscious pearls from the neckline of her tight gown, as the shiny yellow material gleamed in the moonlight! Serves her right for being afraid of spiders, Angie thought unforgivingly.
***
Angie’s mind also went to the poor young princess in blue with the missing necklace. She looked towards the area she had headed, opposite of the back exit to the garden. She reluctantly decided not to push her luck, there was a sister and parents to contend with, and she really had no time left. So she decided to call it a day, a rather successful day, and made her way to retrieve her loot.
**
Angie had now reached the now deserted table by the back exit where the lady in the crimson gown and blood red rubies had been earlier, along with her rhinestone encumbered 10 year old daughter and handsome husband.
**
She paused between the table and the bench, something was not quite right, She eyed the area around the dance floor for any signs of trouble that may be centered on the quite valuable jewels now in her possession. All was quiet, except for a little murmur behind her. Turning she looked at the bench and was shocked to discover the soundly asleep ten year old, using the long rusty sable fur as a blanket. What have we here, Angie thought, licking her lips wickedly?
**
Angie pursed her lips, checking the coast; spotting the young girl’s parents, still on the dance floor, a safe distance away the other side of the room. No sign of miss silver satin. No one else was nearby. Perfect. She went over, bending down so the table hid her. The child looked so vulnerably innocent, sound asleep as she lay on her side, facing Angie. She was clutching an arm of the sable like a warm fuzzy teddy bear, her ring sparkling. Angie gently tugged the mink from the girl’s clasp, and gradually pulled until the fur swished away from along the inert silken figure on the bench, where it fell into a pile on the floor. The child looked very innocent, very vulnerable, like a sleeping princess. An earring lay exposed over one shoulder, her necklace dangled down slightly askew from her slender throat, the pin holding her sash, all of which shone brightly now that it was exposed to the low lights of the ballroom, still called out. Too bad, Angie thought to herself, too bad the mother had not dressed her little doll in real diamonds.
**
Angie again looked to the dance floor; she could see the mother’s jewelry twinkling brightly as the child’s parents danced close, very unaware of anything else but themselves. She looked back over the girl, contemplating. But the song was winding down, Angie stooped to pick up the sable, bird in hand she thought, and placing the rich fur over her arm, stood just as the song ended. Looking at the exit door, so near and yet so far, she started to hasten to it, but checked herself as the band immediately started another, rather slow song that Angie knew quite well.
**
She hesitated, incredibly, everyone was staying on the floor for the final dance, she looked back at the bench, and the sleeping imps exposed jewels still shined, tempting her to come for them. Angie knew that she would only have about four minutes. Always open to new challenges, Angie chose to answer that sweet little invite that the necklace was extending out to her. Checking once again to make sure the parents was still obliviously dancing; she laid the mink down by the door and eased back to the bench. Kneeling down, Angie began to perform the delicate operation.
**
Lifting up the necklace she gently tugged it loose from around the sleeping child’s neck until the clasp appeared. She subtly flicked open the clasp, then shamelessly slipped the necklace from around its perch on the little whelp’s throat. It flickered like some slithering shiny snake, glittering as it came away. Like taking candy from a baby, Angie drooled happily, as she let the necklace run along her fingertips while watching the sleeping princess for a few seconds.
**
Her fitted cream coloured dress shimmered with expensive richness in the shadowy light. The poor thing was so soundly asleep after her long exhausting day that Angie figured she could have peeled the dress off her without causing a stir. This for a pickpocket would be the ultimate test, the pinnacle of her criminal class. But, Angie thought; if she ever had the opportunity to do so, it would have to be worth her while, like a shiny gown, an appealing sky blue gown with half sleeves and scooped collar. And the jewels would be sapphire drop earrings, bracelet and ring, not plain rhinestones. She licked her lips at the enticing thought of such a perfect “coup fera”, than told herself to get back to work, time was money.
**
She slipped her hand along the satin cape being used as a pillow and felt under the girls head until she felt the cold earring she was laying upon. Deftly undoing the screw she pulled it free, watching with delight as it came out from underneath.
**
Angie than, gently lifted, and nimbly stroked back the girl’s ultra-soft hair, exposing her long silvery earring. She pulled the jewel out and laid it out upon the child’s shoulder, where it lay, shimmering vibrantly. Then she reached in with her fingers and began unscrewed its clasp. Pulling it free she added it to her growing collection. She next lifted the hand that had held the warm sable, gently prying open her clenched fingers. The sleeping child never stirred. Angie gently slipped off the glittering ring. She then peeled back a silky sleeve, checking for the bracelet, finding her wrist was bare. The rest of the jewels were hiding securely on the side she was laying upon. Smiling wickedly to herself, an idea popped into Angie’s head.
**
The music was now almost to the halfway point, and Angie thought for a brief second that she should leave . Another quick scan assured her the coast was still clear, and Angie decided to press her luck, eagerly going back to work, putting her idea into motion.
Angie fingers felt along the sleeping child’s waist until she located the brooch. Quickly unfastening the brooch from the chocolate satin sash, she pulled it out. Watching as the diamonds caught fire and burst into vibrant life, unusually vivid for plain rhinestones she thought contemplatively. Angie plopping it in with the growing pile of the sleeping girls purloined baubles. Again reaching in along the warm waist, Angie gradually tugged at the now undone sash. The sleeping girl, unconsciously obliged by turning over on her other side, as the sash was pulled away.
**
Her arm with the ring and bracelet was now exposed. Lifting the arm , and peeling back the puffy sleeve, Angie found and unclasped the bracelet, slipping it away, then allowing it to dangle in triumph before letting it join its purloined mates. Then lifting the child’s hand she pulled at the ring, it was a little tight. Angie licked her fingers, and moistened the girls finger, than began slipping the ring off ever so gently from the along her finger. Almost there, Angie thought, as the ring joined its abducted companions in her pocket.
**
As Angie finished pocketing the last of the girls jewels, her victim whimpers something discernible in her sleep, her small hand feeling to pull up the missing warm sable she had been using as a blanket. Angie quickly looked around, spying a cheap linen coat hanging on a nearby hook, she grasped it and laid it over the stirring girl, stroking her for a precious few seconds. Then rising, calmly Angie snatched a shiny purse from the table, and moved off, unbelieving of her luck. She reclaimed the sable fur, and strolled out the door without looking back.
**
As Angie closed the door she heard the last notes of the song waning from inside. She licked her lip, that was close, but her luck had held. Now all that remained was to visit the Cupid Statue In the garden to reclaim her other prizes. As she reached the statue, Angie realized that she still had the child’s satin sash in her hand.
She smiled as she tied it, blindfolding the cupid statues eyes. Retrieving and pocketing the now stone cold diamond bracelet, and the young Princess in blue’s necklace with its shimmering pendent, she slowly looked around, the cost was clear. Angie coolly made her way to the gate, the bored guard offering to help her with the mink she was carrying. , Angie stopped, and handed it to him. Then turning, allowed him to help her on with it. He puffed out his chest as Angie gave him a sweet smile; she thanked him, then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
**
Angie disappeared from view into the foggy evening, relishing the warmth of the sensuous sable. Happily contemplating the small fortune in jewels it had been in contact with earlier that evening, and also the small fortune she had walked out of the reception with in her possession.
**
The guard watched the spot for some time where the pretty lady in the expensive fur had vanished in the mists. He fantasized for a good few minutes, wondered what had been behind the enchantingly secret smile she had given to him.
Excuse me, sir?, a female voice coming from the garden startles him, he had never heard anyone coming.
He turns, catching an eyeful of a long glamourous, brown satin gown, worn fetchingly by a willowy short haired pretty young thing. Diamonds blazed from around her throat, caught by the gas lights, and from around her white satin gloved wrists as she raised her hands in a pleading fashion.
She continues, pointing to a young girl in a smashing blue satin gown, bending over looking for something in the bushes. My sister lost her necklace and pendent while playing around here earlier, did you or anyone find it? She asked in a rather seductive tone of voice9 not a common, it was her regular voice)
No lady, no one turned in a necklace. Thank you sir, and she turns away, her gown flowing out behind her.
He watches for a minute as she and her sister both move elegantly down the path, continuing their search.
He sighed, and turns away, babysitting rich dames he mutters under his breath, what a dismal way to make a living. Why won’t this affair ever end he asked himself, as he reached for his silver pocket watch to check the time. Damnations he said, not finding it nor its chain and fob, must have dropped it in the alley earlier where I had gone for a nipper from his flask. He sauntered off quickly to the alley located in the direction Angie had disappeared, abandoning his post.
Soon after, a pair of dark figures who had been walking on the opposite side of the street, and had stopped to loiter when they spied the guard talking to some posh broad in a shiny brown dress, saw the guard leaving his post. They quickly stole with sinister intent across the road and entered into the gardens, disappearing into the darkness.
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This ended up being Angie’s first big score, She got more for the rhinestone set then she had imagined, the small brooch taken off the brown satin sash had proved to have real diamonds in its center! Also the princess in silky sky blue’s pendent and chain had fetched a nice tidy sum. The jewels lifted from the ladies in Green and Silver also realized quite a handsome profit, as did the sable and purse.
if one includes the real diamond ring slipped off the finger of a silky dressed debutante from the prom show and her rather nice haul of a slim pearl necklace and diamond pin from the Opera, the whole weekend was unimaginably successful.
**
From the profit realized, she had been able to spend a pleasant month away in Monte Carlo, even indulging in the purchase of a rich red wine coloured taffeta gown to wear.
Which she pleasantly found that, when paired with her deftly acquired collection of dripping rhinestone diamond jewelry, she attracted wealthy young males with expensive gold watches and fat wallets like honey bee drones to a bright moss rose.
**
She also enticed a long raven haired, Miss, richly clad in emerald silk, to enter into her snare.
But Angie did not make an entirely clean get away. For the last jewel to be taken was the girl’s brooch , and before Angie could hide it with the rest, the girl spotted its’ glitter in Angie’s hand, and with a gasp had looked down on her dress at the now vacant spot where it had been dangling ever so provocatively for Angie all evening.. Angie smiled at the girl as she had looked up in confusion. The girl had placed a hand to her throat, startled when feeling it bare of her necklace. She looked at Angie in hurt confusion, her eyes wide with fright. Angie placed a finger to the girl’s lips, hushing any fuss she may have been thinking of making over her missing jewelry, and turning her back to the forlorn miss, Angie left, not looking back….
**
But that was a story for another day, so we were promised by Angie, giving us an all too familiar look of devious satisfaction at making us wait.
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Editor’s Notes:
Our Thanks to Mr. J. Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide
If you enjoyed our little story, please like and leave a comment.
And if you wish, describe what intrigued you the most about it…
Thank You
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The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Orientation Center introduces visitors to the key concepts presented in the Museum’s fourth-floor fossil halls, in which more than 600 specimens, 85 percent of them actual fossils, are arranged as a giant “family tree” defined by evolutionary relationships. The “trunk” is denoted by a thick black line on the floor, which starts in this hall and continues through the Hall of Vertebrate Origins, the David H. Koch Dinosaur Wing, and the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing of Mammals and Their Extinct Relatives.
This main line is punctuated by branching points, which represent the evolution of new physical characteristics and direct visitors to alcoves with fossils of closely related animals. This method of grouping organisms, called cladistics, was pioneered with the help of Museum scientists.
A 200-seat theater in the Orientation Center features a video presentation, narrated by actor Meryl Streep, about the major evolutionary changes and episodes of diversification and extinction that have shaped the course of vertebrate evolution. Opposite the theater is a life-sized, fleshed-out reconstruction of a juvenile Barosaurus, the skeleton of which is on view in the Museum’s Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda. The inclusion of this speculative reconstruction is intended to suggest central themes of the fossils halls: what science can reveal about long-extinct life forms and what mysteries remain unsolved.
Chronicles of lifting Light :
Tales from The Poet and the Peasant
There is a certain daring “edge” in acting out a role playing game on a partner(s) in public, especially if (in our case) one favors pickpocketing.
It’s a certain adrenaline thrill, both addictive and desirable, that increases up until the “mark” is relived of one or more of her dangling valuables. Whether its carried out with a simple bump, a lift conveyed while, say dancing, or a squeeze play maneuvered with a second player, it all creates and holds a level of excitement most thrilling in its nature, quite erotic within its scope.
This Chronicle contains short essays on pickpocketing games played solely within our group over the past few years.
These were games only, done with full knowledge and consent of all the players ( with a couple of exceptions where the parties involved were not informed of the actual happenings until sometime after the fact.)
Any articles of jewelry lifted were returned to their original owners, albeit sometimes those owners at first thought the jewelry being returned had just simply fallen away.
The actual facts have been stretched, padded and enhanced, due primarily to the significant detail that I rather like those in my immediate circle, and in order to keep them liking me, have agreed to “put meat on the bone” so to speak, when putting pen to paper.
This journal is far from complete, and additional stories will be added as they are played out.
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The “Poet and the Peasant” Is a little backwater pub owned by Brian’s Aunt and Uncle. It’s a laid back place, music (mostly canned) , the usual caste of regulars ,Including us, and a generous section of ales and other “demon” drink.
The pub is housed in an ancient old building with all sorts of old Victorian era objects, found and given a home in the pub’s numerous nooks and crannies. Including the skull of poor Erik. Erik was a 17th century poet and balladeer who supposedly was beheaded for making several torrid lyrics about a certain Saxon king. His grinning skull sits high up in a shelf along a balustrade, usually with a cigar clamped in his jaws. Couldn’t tell how many times someone who had more than his fill of drink has tried to light it for the poor blighter. The pub is a regular howl around Halloween, thanks to Erik, who has obtained quite a degree of notability, despite being dead for all these long years.
Basically, Erik aside, the “Poet and the Peasant” is a great place to hang out and make plans with a pint in hand.
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Opening Act
Atonement
We were heading to a small resort that we once had stayed at for a wedding and reception. It was Just “Ginny” and I on a 4 day escape from reality. We were passing through one of the small towns on the way, when Ginny spotted a dress shoppe, with several mannequins wearing evening frocks. She had to stop, we had a function the next month and she had “nothing to wear”( Liar I thought grinning).
We went inside and on a “gently worn” rack she pulled out this long string sleeved satin number and tried it on. The young clerk said it was patterned after the one in the movie atonement ( which neither of us had seen) but its rich deep green( Irish green the clerk called it, which I really had no idea was a colour) really set off Ginny’s long copper hair, and I liked the way her hair laid down her bare backside.
We arrived at the resort in early afternoon and claimed our suite( paid for by an anniversary gift) and set out to explore the place. The resort was packed, and we found out that there were 2 evening wedding receptions taking place on Saturday. An Idea began to take seed and as we walked I found a way to bring it into conversation.
Ginny had brought her rhinestones ( see Album Chronicles of lifting Light, B) for a bit of date roleplay in our suite some chosen evening of our stay. I suggested that she should give her gown and the rhinestones a try in public. Where she asked? I than laid out my game plan and a smile crept across her face, lit up by the sun poking through the trees on the wooded path we had been walking. Ginny liked to dress up, and I used that trump card to my advantage.
At around 5pm I slipped into the larger of the two receptions (crashed if you like) and wondering over to the bar I got a drink and waited, nursing it. I was reasonably presentable in a suit jacket, slacks, silk shirt and satin tie. As I waited I found myself pretty much unnoticed, which was a far cry from what Ginny encountered when she cautiously entered about fifteen minutes later, green gown swirling, rhinestones all a glitter. It didn’t take long for the sharks to start circling. One lad started a conversation, and I watched her squirm a little, before putting my drink down and coming to my damsel’s rescue. I had to literally peel the bloke away from her. We went onto the dance floor, pretending like we had never met. As we danced through several songs I could tell by the look in Ginny’s eyes that she was feeling the same fire within that I was. Ready for part 2 ? I asked, she got a surprised look in her eyes, and began to check herself, uh uh I said, not till we leave. We went out together; I spied the bloke watching us from a table, and smirked to meself over his look of frustration.
Outside we started to walk along the promenade, joining along with several other ladies, charming in their in gowns and frills, with their tuxedoed escorts, escapees all of us from the receptions. Ginny felt exceptionally good as, with my arm around her, she cuddled into my side while we walked some distance. But our bliss was not long, when Ginny , looking back, said there was a hotel security cop heading our way. Damn I thought, pinched for crashing the reception.
The rent-a-cop came up to us, and placing a firm grip upon my shoulder(or tried, I was a good foot taller, where do they find these blokes?) talked directly to Ginny. Everything alright then Miss, he questioned Ginny, trying to sound professional, and he almost pulled it off, except he squeaked on the word Miss.
Why yes, officer Ginny said, pouring on the charm( which is a quite frightful weapon in her capable hands), thank you for your lovely concern, but why do you ask? I received a report that this man may have been bothering you, Ma’am he said , no squeaks this time. He looked at me, I just grinned back at him, waiting for Ginny to belt it out of the park. She smiled, her green eyes brite, and laying a hand on the “officers” chin, told him how adorable his concern was for her safety, but her husband and she made sure he saw her ring, is really not that much of a bother most of the time. Husband he started, than stopped, caught his embarrassment nicely, then tried to save it, but Miss, I heard you had lost a necklace.
Whatever reaction he had hoped by saying this, it was not the one he got. Oh that, she said, the clasp broke, so my husband took it for safe keeping, really, where would I have put it, and she stepped back and let him look her over for evidence of supporting her statement. Game, Set and Match, I smirked to myself!
With the way she looked in that satin gown, and her charm at full output, no mere mortal male would have been able to stand a chance. Well, he choked out, all’s good then isit, and releasing my shoulder; he turned heel, and walked off hurriedly, like a scolded puppy with its tail between its legs. Ginny giggled, well played I told her, well played. And, again with my arm around her and Ginny cuddling in, we continued our stroll, with Ginny letting out the occasional chortal of laughter over the whole incident.
We reached an overlook over the lake, where a pair of swans was meandering about. A young lady in a long white dress with a glittering bracelet around one wrist, was walking along the path that edged along the lake. The swans were near her, reminding me of a tele commercial I had seen long ago ( If anyone else remembers it please leave a comment).
Ginny caught me looking, wanna do the path luv, she whispered with in a most beguiling manner. We did so, and eventually found a rather isolated little nook behind a hedge grow. Here I will have to leave to the readers imagination what transpired there, for the only witnesses were the two of us, and a rather surprised chippy who crawled out of his hole for a gander…
On our way back we once again stopped at the overlook. Time to tally up I said. Ginny smiled and opening her purse pulled out a scrap of paper. She showed it to me, on it was written the word necklace. Lucky guess, did you feel me take it I asked. Of course she lied; I could have done it better. Wanna bet I teased. Maybe someday we’ll see she responded. Now the way the game worked was that I pretended to be a light fingered jewel thief, with my eyes on the lady in green’s jewels. It was my objective to lift a piece of Ginny’s jewellery some point in the evening..
Ginny agreed to it on the condition that beforehand she would write down a piece of jewellery on a piece of paper, if it matched the piece I had lifted, than I could decide what we would do the next evening, if not, she would decide. So later, as we had a few drinks in a nearby pub ( still dressed in “costume”) I (the winner) outlined the plans for the next evening.
So the following evening, after a rather nice feast by the fireplace in the resorts great room, we found ourselves once again in a bar ( this time the resorts lounge). I was wearing the same suit, and had Ginny’s purloined necklace in my jacket pocket. Ginny was wearing a black satin blouse, ¾ sleeved, with long white and blacked stripped skirt. She wore her gold jewellery, and her long hair was up, held by rhinestone clips. At one point she excused herself to the loo, and when she returned took the chair next to me, and started to come on to me. I played along and after a few drinks, and dances, she led me out to the lobby.
Making way outside to the long wooden walkaway of the promenade, we began our way along it. Finding an isolated bench, we began to make out, as if we were strangers who had just met. After a long (glorious) while, we stood( wobbly) and made our way down to the lake, and continued our light petting.
At one point Ginny stopped, and looking me in the eye, said, well sir, its been fun, but id better go. Immediately I patted my pocket, the necklace was gone. Naughty I said, distracting me on the bench hussy, I teased. Her eyes got a gleam, follow me she said. We retraced our steps, hand in hand, and she led me to the the bench, and then surprisingly passed it. We regained the lobby, and she stopped by a corner, where a larger fern like plant sat in a rather big ceramic pot. Reaching in, she pulled out the necklace. Very good I said, never felt you take it.
So, I win then, she smirked. Yes I agreed, I had guessed wrong by thinking she had picked my pocket on the bench. So let’s go an collect me winnings then, sir, she ordered me, her eyes large and hungry. As we made our way I tried to get her to tell me when she had lifted the necklace, but she just placed a secret little smile on her lips, and remained silent on the subject….
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Act 2
Squeeze Play
Anyone who has taken the bother to riffle through my earlier Chronicles of Lifting Light, knows I have a twin sister who at times past has been my foil to practice upon. Well, I will leave it up to you to decide who the foil was in this tale.
We were all hanging out at the pub (“Poet and the Peasant” of course) one evening, the four of us, being the silly selves that mid- twenties youth are prone to being, especially when alcohol is involved.
We were trying to drink away the memories of what our previous week of work had given us, and were well on our way to meeting that objective, when a song from the band Cold Play come on. Ginny had asked my sister who it was, and instead of answering right away, she gave something a bit of thought, then my sister started smirking. Cold Play, like squeeze Play , remember “Ginny?”
Both Girls just started giggling, “Brian” just got a sullen look at the memory, and I, I just reflected…..
In our University years, my sister worked part time for a company that raised funds for charities, like OXFAM, etc. Among the various types of events were a couple of “Black Tie” affairs that I enjoyed because it gave Brian and I the chance to escort my Sister and Ginny ( the girls ever beautiful in fancy dress) to attend them.
Now, my sister had this co-worker,”Shiela”, who was absolute vinegar to my sister’s honey, hell, she was vinegar to any pretty female’s honey! She was a squawker, a squealer, and a backstabbing slag, in other words, not a very nice girl atoll. She was also was twice divorced from wealthy young scions who could not spot a gold digger for the life of them until they had been broadsided along the head with her gilded shovel.
During one warm late Autumn we were attending one of the Charity Dances being held in the big city proper. They had a pair of bands lined up, one kind of a Disco’ish throwback, and for later, a proper one that played a more romantic beat, one that called for slow dancing. The Girls were more into the Disco then we males were( a feeling that affected most of us in attendance) and the floor was flooded with a gaggle of swishing dresses and gowns dancing and swirling around to the frantic beat of the music, all performed with swirling lights in the darkened, smog filled dance floor, while the guys just sat around enjoying the show being put on.
As Brian and I watched the provocative females on the floor dancing, we noticed that our girls were slowly moving out amongst the throng of pretty dancers, rather than maintaining one area. Soon they had moved next to “Shiela”, who was dancing with this cousin of hers. Now I found this surprising, because Sis and Ginny had been throwing daggers with their eyes at “Shiela” all evening. She had been sitting with her wealthy new boyfriend, who was always bending to her demands, as evidenced by the expensive new finery she was sporting, which really had gotten a certain Twins goat. So it was with some puzzlement that when her cousin took a breather, Ginny and my twin slipped in to take her place, moving in rhythm with the now quite intoxicated “Shiela”.
Sis was facing “Shiela” and Ginny was behind her, all three of them gyrating their arms, hands and most of their other body parts in motion, up down and all around each other , so close at times that you would have had an effort at squeezing a hand between them.
What’s that pair up to now? Brain questioned me, as if I had a hand in it, I just shook my head, knowing only that I wanted to be in the middle of that sandwich instead of “Shiela”, but as it turned out, good thing I wasn’t.
We watched as the long song went on, with its deep bass beat that almost sounded like it had been lifted from some horror flick. Ginny and Sis continued to revolve, twist and swirl around the guileless “Shiela” as their colourfully brite (slinky) dresses shimmered in a most provocative fashion, bathed as they were caught by the dimly lit, smoke filled, dance floors blue strobes. A few times “Shiela” seemed to lose her footing, and fell against my Sister, who I thought took it surprisingly well as she gently steadied her foe.
Then the song ended, and all three girls laughed and giggled, actually hugged one another. I heard Brian letting out an chiding snort, I , well I was still just mesmerized by the whole act. Ginny and My Sister than walked the slightly dizzy “Shiela” back to her table, even going so far as to help her set down, before turning and heading back to our table. Both of them wearing chuff grins like the kittens that had eaten the canary.
Wotcher?, said Brian questioning their look. Oh God I thought, knowing the answer, for I had been watching “Shiela” as the girls had left and approached. My sister, looking around, held out her hand and opened her fist. There, all balled up and glittering, was the expensive diamond pendent of the set of matching diamonds that “Shiela” had been flaunting about to everyone all evening.
Brian Jumped all over the two, giving them quite the bollocking, “games we played on each other was one thing, but what you pair had done was wade into some very dangerous waters indeed”! So what’s next I chimed in, and by the looks on their heavily made-up faces realized the silly twits hadn’t thought of that end. We hastily discussed the matter, knowing that time was anything but on our sides. Finally Brian took it from my admonished(seemingly) twin, and marching it up to the disc jockey, had him make an announcement describing what his “sister” had found in the loo.
“Shiela”, whom we all had been watching, let out a shriek as her hands flew groping to her chest in fruitless examination, jumped up and immediately claimed it, or tried to as the Jocky had a little bit of fun with it first. “Shiela” and her haplessly star struck Beau, were so hopping mad at the Jocky, they pretty much gave no thought as to how the pretty thing actually had been lost in the first place. This was a lucky break for a couple of girls, who still sat their smugly smiling, as Brian tried in vain to continue scolding them. Me, I just looked at the twittering pair, wondering, pondering thoughts of me own.
Now it wasn’t until a couple of years later on the night my sister made the remark about the cold play song that the girls felt comfortable talking a bit more about the incident .And before Brian could listen without tabooing the subject. And it was then that I learnt how the pair of them had managed to take the diamonds from “Shiela”
It turned out the two had had no real plan, just that they had been discussing “Shiela” between themselves and had been debating over how fun it would be to knock her down a peg or so. One of the scenarios presented was to have her be given the shock of losing a piece of her expensive jewelry, and they even discussed bringing me into the fold, but thought better of it.
Although I am not sure if I would have taken them up on it, but since then I have thought out different ways I would have approached the problem, both by myself, and with the girls help. Although I wouldn’t have tried for the necklace, I figured her ring or bracelet would not have been beyond my scope of achievement. Although, with the girls help…….
Anyway they finally decided to try it themselves, after all how hard could it be to take, say a cocktail ring from “Shiela’s” sweaty finger as she was dancing away on the crowded floor?
They decided to join in the dance and get close to “Shiela” and if an opportunity arose, my sister was to signal Ginny by rubbing a finger alongside her nose to bump against “Shiela”, pushing the hapless B… into me devious twin. It was Ginny who came up with the name “squeeze play”, because I once had grasped and squeezed her from behind, removing her ring in the process.
Now “Shiela” was wearing what I guess is called an A-line gown, where her front was totally covered by the gowns shiny material, no gloves, just sweat glistened skin. As they moved in on “Shiela” Ginny took position behind, while Sis took the front, and at one point laid a hand upon “Shiela’s” shoulder, “Shiela” did likewise as they swayed to the deep rhythmic beats. Sis tried to grasp “Shiela’s” free hand, the one where she was wearing a diamond cocktail ring, but she kept missing. In the process she realized that the hand she had placed on her victims shoulder was almost touching the thick gold chain of her nemesis’s necklace, which held the diamond pendent that was bouncing about.
Looking “Shiela” directly in the eyes she began to work the necklace along as they danced, until her fingers felt the clasp. It was lobster clasp, similar to one my sister had on the emerald necklace Brian had given her. Sis gave it an exploratory push, and it surprisingly opened under her fingers. Startled at what had happened, she forgot the signal, and nodded to Ginny, who plowed into the hapless “Shiela’s” backside, as my sister felt “Shiela” fall against her. She whisked off the necklace with one hand, while steading the giggling “Shiela” with her other. Backing away she placed both hands behind her back as “Shiela” turned to receive Ginny’s apologies. Sis balled up the chain in one hand, holding it tightly closed for the remainder of the dance. They helped “Shiela” back to her table, my Sister placing the fist holding the necklace alongside her victims back as they helped guide the still giggling “Shiela” to a seat.
Walking away, my Sister thought that it had been almost scary how easily it had been to open the clasp and pluck off the necklace. It shouldn’t have been, she kept telling herself, but she knew it was, for she had the evidence in her hand, and she was not even close to ever being a professional about such things. My twin has said that afterwards that it had given her a lot of perturbed thoughts when wearing any good jewelry of hers in public, (particularly her emeralds with the Lobster clasp) and finds herself on occasion still doing spot checks whenever she has been brushed by someone. But then, I think we all do on occasion, knowing the kind of games we like to play.
So as one can see, overall ,this is a rather touchy subject to tackle. But there was no denying that Sis (and Ginny I suspect) were proud of their accomplishment at the time. It was almost like my twin was trying to impress upon me that I was not the only one with light fingers. A subject that, trust me, has been, and will continue to be explored down a sometimes crooked “garden” path.
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Anyone who has read Chronicles B knows that Ginny and Brian both received the upcommence for the manner in which they had gotten my sisters got at the wedding reception. But as for me, she waited a bit, biding her time, for like the proverbial elephant( which she has a bit of a collection) my twin does not forget.
Upcoming :
And revenge is a dish best served cold.
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In Appraisal
I do highly encourage anyone who has read my chronicles,( or looked at the clips below) and on the off-chance may actually have been entertained by them, and would like me to divulge more of our tomfooleries , to please leave behind a comment expressing that point.
Thank You
Food for thought:
Jewelry lifting Clips
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAZdjhNVjxk&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ls8rw2V1QCU&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RbLiI9ZFQ8&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XZ8s-R9vl4
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofodSjKQ_-8
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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With the construction of the Central Washington Railway in 1889, Govan was designated as a place in Lincoln County WA. The discovery of a large sandbank in the area in the autumn of 1890 created a boom town atmosphere as a crew of workmen complete with a steam shovel, extracted sand for the railroad construction. The name is derived from R.B. Govan, a construction engineer employed by the Central Washington Railway. Govan has been the scene of several unsolved murders. Reported December 1902 as "The most brutal crime ever committed in the county." was the axe murder of Judge J.A. Lewis and his wife, Penelope. The elderly Lewis kept sums of money about the house. It was believed robbery was the motive. Govan's eventual demise was hastened in 1933 when the community was bypassed by US Route 2. Only one retail store remained in business as of 1940.
www.ghosttownsofwashington.com/govan.html
Photo of an abandoned house captured via Minolta MD Zoom Rokkor-X 24-50mm F/4 lens and the bracketing method of photography. In the ghost town and unincorporated community of Govan. Columbia Plateau Region. Inland Northwest. Lincoln County, Washington. Early March 2018.
Exposure Time: 1/250 sec. * ISO Speed: ISO-160 * Aperture: F/8 * Bracketing: +1 / -1 * Film Plug-In: Ilford Delta 3200
Nothing much in the way of excitement ever happens at Coopers Chase Retirement home so four friends meet up once a week to go over unsolved murder cases. Then one day a murder happens right on their doorstep and the four are thrown into the thick of things. Elizabeth, Joyce, Ron and Ibrahim might be pushing 80 but they still a have trick or two to show the police.
I have mixed feeling about this book. I certainly didn't dislike it, in fact I found it quite amusing at times however I also found it a bit rambling now and again and far too many characters introduced to the point where I had to go back and re read parts to keep straight who was who. Hopefully it was just a first book thing and by the next one in the series things will be better.
One down, one more to go! An exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be nimbly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture...
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The above depiction appeared on the cover of True Detective June 1953 Vol. 59 No. 2
The portrayal below did not.
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The Silken whisper of Flickering Desires
A Chronicle
Adapted from the Final Entry Entitled:
Their Regal Gambit
Subtitled:
While Sherlock Holmes vacationed
The first score had been made, now for the Coup de Grace! So far their little operation had gone as smooth as silk, or in this case, satin. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then Mollie would let her husband know that with the coast clear, freeing him to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping an eye on all evening. The one who was wearing the exquisite necklace of fiery flickering diamonds, just daring someone to expertly slip it away the throat of its unsuspecting owner.
And therein lay the rub, She happily thought….
As Mollie made her way down the quiet corridor to the gentlemen’s smoking lounge, she lovingly played through her mind the series of unfortunate ( or fortunate?) events that had led her and her husband to this place. It had all began with an innocent one named Tabitha…….
Mollies’ Flash back
They had first come across Tabitha at a resort casino deep in the Catskills. Mollie and her husband had been there about three days, scoping out the grounds, and its wealthy clientele. At the casino they both spotted Tabitha at the same time. She was seated at a baccarat table, really standing out in an elegant dress of gold and black striped silk and velvet Her well-toned body displayed numerous pieces of expensive jewelry. A fat little purse dangled, unheeded by her side. Tabitha had held Mollie’s attention mainly due to the strong resemblance she had to herself. Tabitha’s jewelry, a flashy diamond journey style necklace, matching earrings, wide diamond tennis bracelet, and multiple gem encrusted rings, had held Mollies pickpocket husbands’.
Mollie went on to the bar and watched as her husband waited for the seat next to Tabitha to become vacant. Then he sat, asking for chips, while unobtrusively eyeing Tabitha’s bracelet. He began striking up a conversation with Tabitha, finding her to be an easy mark. He soon learned from the chatty girl that she was a divorced, upper executive for a well-known digital arts company servicing the movie industry. It was during this conversation that Tabitha babbled about the upscale, invitation only(you know), black tie formal ball she would be attending in England the next month. Now, as her husband was keeping Tabitha occupied Mollie had walked by the pair, ‘tripping’ into her husband, who palmed off to her , the diamond bracelet which had been ever so subtly slipped from around the unwary Tabatha’s’ wrist. Walking away with the bracelet secured in her purse, Mollie made her way to their small bungalow. Her husband did not break in his conversation with Tabitha; a mark would seldom suspect a friendly person of stealing from her.
Later that evening, Mollie wore the pricy bracelet while mutually admiring it over a bottle of merlot with her husband. They discussed the high-class affair Tabitha had been bragging about. Wistfully, Mollie admitted it was a shame they had not received an invite. Her husband smiled, and pulled a thickly embossed and crested envelope from his pocket. Easily adopting a British accent, he said “The silly little twit was carrying this in her purse!” The envelope revealed a pair of invitations to the Princess’s Jubilee Royal Ball. As the pair continued to empty the bottle of fine merlot, what had started as speculation, turned towards reality, and soon plans had been laid.
As they lay in bed later that night, Mollie turned to her husband, just think about the jewels that will be worn at the English Ball, she shivered with the delightful thoughts. Do you remember the last time we were in England? Mollie looked at her husband slyly, you remember, the Wriggling Whelp Whispering Wisk! She stated teasingly. Mollie knew the quickest way to get her husband’s goat was coming up with silly phrases to describe his more outlandish endeavors. Such phrases like The Tingling Touch Ice Melt, The Slippery Slick Taffeta Pull, The Glossy Gowned Dangling Peel, or her personal favorite, The Ticklish Wedge Clam Dip, never failed to get a response. In this case the response was a brief pillow fight ending up with them reminiscing about the last time they had “visited” England a few years back.
There had been a rambunctious doe eyed Fourteen year old in a shiny dress who had been oblivious to the valuably delicious gold pendent studded with small rubies and emeralds that sparkled ever so invitingly as it swung from her throat. A pair of matching dangling earrings dripped from her ears as she has run around un minded by her elders. Mollie had indignantly stated that the antique trinkets were simply just too expensive for a child so squirm inly young to be trusted with. Mollie had been right.
After talking a bit about the English Girls pendent, which had been an unexpected windfall, Mollie came back to the present and asked if the lady in the maroon silk that her husband pointed out the previous evening would be wearing the same jewels to the dance tomorrow night? Or better her husband replied sleepily, good Mollie pronounced, I did like her emeralds.
In Merry Ole England
They had arrived in England several weeks before the Royal Ball and began the preparations.
In an irony of fate, the profit they had realized from poor Tabitha’s bracelet had paid for a large chunk of their little excursion. Keeping his accent, and adding a trim beard, Mollies husband looked radically different from the man Tabitha had encountered. During the weeks following their arrival, the pair had practiced like they always did before undertaking a new venture. But this time it was with a more daring edge, they quite simply could not afford being caught red handed in a foreign country. Mollie assumed her practice the role. That of the richly dressed, Well jeweled quarry. Her husband would stalk and attempt to relieve her of a piece of her jewelry as she went about her business, shopping! The idea being that, If he was able to do so without being caught by an obviously aware Mollie, than he should have no problem at the Royal Ball. As it usually happened when they practiced in this manner, her husband did incredibly well. Mollie had had several pieces of jewelry vanish from her person during the week, without her noticing how or when.
The final night of practice Mollie decided to dress to kill. Looking quite devastating in a glossy gold halter and a long brown velvet skirt with gold stiletto heels clicking as she moved. A diamond heart pendant hung down from her neck, swaying provocatively out from between her breasts. A bracelet, similar to Tabitha’s purloined diamonds, was wrapped around her wrist.
She left their penthouse and made her way to the street outside. Some type of festival was going on as she waded through the crowded streets to the nightclub. Her rings sparkled as they kept rhythm with her swaying diamond waterfall earrings. Just daring her husband to make a move for any of them.
Mollie drank and danced the night away with no hide or hair of her husband until she returned late that evening to their apartment. She found him in the hot tub, smirking. She undressed and joined him. Okay, how did u do it she demanded? I felt nothing, no one bumped or brushed against me all evening that I was not aware of. He opened his fist, allowing her heart diamond pendant to dangle freely in front of her. A magician never reveals his tricks my little cat, he purred, as the pendant swayed in a sparkling arch.
Cat was short for “Cat Lady”, a moniker he had placed upon her when she had broken into a sleeping woman’s room and removed the jewels from her gold case, and even managed to slip off a ring she was wearing. The fact that she was passed out in a drunken stupor, still dressed in her long party gown, didn’t count , or so her husband teased.
You should have been a surgeon! , my dear, Mollie exclaimed with pride. Then she leaned towards him, her green eyes gleaming in earnest, time for a real practice run Mon Cherie, she said in dead seriousness. Then Her eyes opened wide, I got it she exclaimed, I’ll call it The Slinking Sneaky Shearing Snag she pronounced joyfully, getting a face ful of water in reply to her effort. Okay Cat, let’s get down to business he retorted, I know just the affair. Mollie listened intensively as her Husband described their next plans, derived while eavesdropping on a couple of ladies shopping in a jewelers.
The next weekend (two weeks to the evening before the Royal Ball) Mollie found herself at a quaint upscale wedding reception held in the large gardens of a country church. She was attired in the same bewitching ensemble that she had been wearing on the final night of practice. Her only jewels were a recently acquired pair of sparkly cascading earrings set with emeralds and diamonds. The affair of the plump piqued peacock plucking she had mused while getting dressed. The only other exception was that the long fiery red hair she had inherited from her Irish namesake grandmother had been cut and dyed blond. Blue contacts had also been added to the disguise to hide her vivid green eyes.
They soon targeted an older jewel laden snob at the reception. While Mollie engaged the mark in a mostly one sided conversation(the older ladies) the lady had become so deeply engrossed about talking about herself and her ties with royalty, that she never detected being relieved of a heirloom antique gold chain and jeweled pendent by Mollies husband who had approached her unnoticed from behind.
It was all Mollie could do no to bring attention to it by looking at the wickedly expensive piece as it was slipped up and away from the Dowager’s ruffled heavy satin blouse.
This time it was mollies turn to keep chatting as her husband headed to the door. He had almost made it when two youths ran into him as they scurried away from a rather sullen looking tween girl they had been teasing, and now were in possession of her purse. Mollie stole a look as she saw her husband topple onto the chasing girl. He managed to extracted himself from the girls long slinky gown that she had probably been forced into by an overly conceited mother. He apologized, and left the girl to go after her antagonizes. Later, when Mollie had caught up to him she teased him about his clumsiness. He just smiled, and pulled out from his vest pocket the most exquisitely matched pearls that the youth had been openly displaying from around her throat and wrist at the reception!
They were, most definitely, ready. The fated evening could not come soon enough. But it finally did.
They had had no problem with using the fancy invitations to gain entrance. Security was heavy, as expected, but with a very lax atmosphere. Mollie was wearing the salmon coloured gown she had had especially made for such occasions, her new blond hair style and the blue contacts. In a coup foray of sorts, Mollie wore the pearls that had been taken by her husband during his run in with the sullen girl at the wedding reception. Her husband was wearing his usual tux with a hand tied bowtie. His ruffled sleeves easily moved up and down along his wrists.
Mollie and her husband split up, each spending the first few hours mingling solo, and taking it all in as they thoroughly enjoyed the Ball and all its many stimulating attractions. It had gone smooth as silk. Spending the first few hours prowling while the guests liquored up Mollie scoping out exactly the right candidates. Dangling jewels with easy clasps were everywhere!, it was surprising how the best of jewel makers skimped on the clasps required to keep the expensive pieces in place. Clothing also made a difference. Silks and satins were quiet and slipped easily. Taffeta could be whispery, more of a challenge. Velvet could easily snag as a piece was being lifted. But these were the costliest of materials, and the wearers would logically be wearing the costlier of jewelry.
Mollie and her husband regrouped several hours later, unobtrusively under the pretense of dancing. Gently discussing their plans. They settled on three likely prospects amongst the almost three hundred present. The first was an older spinster type wearing a luxurious dress of embroidered navy silk and displaying jewelry studded with diamonds and sapphires. The second was a middle aged snotty blonde wearing a shamelessly low cut green silk taffeta gown (which Mollie secretly liked)wearing a thick gold bracelet studded with vulgarly large rubies surrounded by a sea of small sparkly diamonds. She was alone, and a heavy drinker. The third was a longshot. A lanky , flighty brunette wearing immensely valuable jewels of blindingly sparkling Diamonds. Her necklace alone was in the upper hundred thousand range, with a clasp that was one of the easiest to coax open. The only problem was that she came with an obviously newlywed husband who doted on her every move. Both were heavy drinkers, and if he would only leave his wife’s side for, say about fifteen minutes, the necklace would be theirs!
They had decided that any one of the three would produce results worth a king’s ransom, appropriately enough, all things considered. The plan was for her husband to take his time selecting the easiest jewel to acquire from amongst the ones the three marks were displaying , make his move, and pass it off to Mollie who would leave forthwith, while her husband stayed a little while longer to make sure everything remained calm before making his exit stage right via the hallway.
As Mollie went to her station, she saw the Blue silken lady, along with her sapphires and diamonds, leaving with a rather unsavory looking male, eyeing her with a look Mollie knew all too well. Mollie decided to follow them, thinking to herself that some women are just prone to being victimized. Good luck with that one Mollie thought unkindly, as she stole one last look at the ladies glistening sapphires, hope he leaves her with something she sarcastically wished wickedly to the couple’s backside as they went out the exit at the end of the hall. One down and out she thought. Then she spied the husband of the newlywed pair heading down the hall towards her with an older, grey bearded man. Getting close she heard them talking about the Gentlemen’s smoking lounge. Mollie decided to give her husband a signal, but when she found him he was already in the arms of the blond. Molly immediately noticed the absence of the jeweled bracelet from his partners’ wrist. She went back to her table. Immediately she was set upon by some drunken snob asking her to dance. She allowed herself to be taken up into his arms. Spending a few unenchanting minutes with Mr. two left feet, before her husband tapped him on the shoulder cutting in. They danced, Mollie placing a hand into his pocket and feeling something cold and metal wrapped her hand around it. Looking him in the eyes she told him about the now unguarded bride, as she palmed the willowy blonde’s bracelet. They decided to go for it, and as the music ended, Mollie made her way to the hall, where she secreted the blondes bracelet safely away
One down, one more to go! An exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be nimbly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then to let her husband know that with the coast clear, he was free to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping a drooling eye on all evening. The one wearing the exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be so expertly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer.
She was able to see the groom in windowed room, the husband and his friend were smoking a pair of long cigars and drinking brandy in large glass snifters. Mollie passed unnoticed as she mad e her way to the ladies powder room. He was still there, only halfway through a long stogie as she passed again on her way back. Neither time was she observed. Mollie mad her way back to the Ballroom. She sat down at one side of the room, once again allowing the sights of so many bejeweled women to soak in. Her husband was dancing with a lady in a flowing red ball gown, jewels sparkling in abundance, not aware of the danger so close at hand, nor that even with her husband and his particular skill set so close to them, that at that moment nothing could be safer from his fingertips. Finally she caught her husband’s eye. Mollie innocently rubbed a finger along the side of her nose, a subtle signal that it was safe for him to precede.
Mollie was now uncharacteristically having butterflies in her stomach; it was a huge gamble, trying to get away with a pair of thefts in this inhospitable atmosphere. She kept second guessing herself, Bird in hand she kept thinking. But the lure was too great, and it was with a heavy sigh of relief when Mollie saw her husband finally kiss the hand of the young bride after their dance. Mollie could see that she was no longer sporting the thin silver necklace and its row of at least two caret diamonds that had been encircling her throat with their rippling flashy brilliance all evening. Molly stayed put, not daring to leave until her husband had brushed by her in passing and made his way out the hallway to the exit. She waited for a long fifteen minutes, then curling her hand around the necklace that had been dropped into her lap as he had passed; she gained the safety of the hallway. Just in time. For coming down the hallway was none other than the lady in the long luxurious gown and now bare throats groom and his distinguished looking friend. She passed by them, feeling the men eyeing her with roving wolfish gazes. Then she passed them, and proceeded unhindered to once again enter the ladies’ powder room where the necklace soon joined with the Blondes bracelet in its hiding spot.. Than calmly Mollie left, walking past two security Bobbies, virtually unnoticed. The Groom had been absolutely ignorant to the fact that his young Bride’s ridiculously valuable necklace had walked right past him out the door.
Mollie did not let herself really breathe until she had gained the safety of the street. She allowed herself to imagine the commotion as the news of the missing jewels were circulated around the cavernous Ballroom. There would be a flurry of activity, flashes and sparkles as the women checked themselves reassuringly that they were still in possession of their trinkets. Mollie would have loved to have stayed and watched, but obviously could not do so. She rejoined her husband at their meeting place and they drove off. They made their way to Ireland where they spent a cautious week touring before leaving for the states.
Once the profit was realized from their haul that eventful evening, including obnoxious Dowagers the jeweled antique pendent, and was added in to the modest amount they had already accumulated from previous adventures, Mollie and her husband were able to retire to Ireland and live quite an unpretentious life together in a small stone manor in the woods.
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No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
Artist
Edwin Georgi (1896 - 1964)
Circa 1948?
Read More about Edwin Georgi at the end of the Algonquin Roundtable recount..
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“We were telling stories, trying to guess if the tale told was fact or fiction. M… came up with this story, chilling in the way it was so wretchedly confessed to us. Most of us thought it was fact, but didn’t really want to believe it.
(read fact or fiction? At the end of the background section)
BACKGROUND
“Algonquin Round Table writers, a group of town wits who had converged on New York in the late 1910s. From their positions as columnists, essayists, and drama critics, this "all-star literary vaudeville," as Edmund Wilson called them, nourished a light, sharp, mocking tone aimed at well-known personalities, among whom they counted themselves. Wartime friends Franklin P. Adams, Harold Ross, Heywood Broun, and Alexander Woollcott were among the bantering quipsters who began meeting for daily lunches at the Algonquin Hotel. With so many clever wordsmiths, this self-named "vicious circle" soon became famous for its ingenious puns, quips, and insults appearing immediately in print in someone's column.”
The Algonquin Round Table was a celebrated group of New York City writers, critics, actors and wits. Gathering initially as part of a practical joke, members of "The Vicious Circle", as they dubbed themselves, met for lunch each day at the Algonquin Hotel from 1919 until roughly 1929. At these luncheons they engaged in wisecracks, wordplay and witticisms that, through the newspaper columns of Round Table members, were disseminated across the country.
"Their form of social media was just that: social. Imagine having the time every day to break for a couple hours to have lunch with your funny, intelligent friends? They didn’t post witty replies on Facebook. They said them face-to-face, such as the time Dorothy Parker was asked to use the word “horticulture” in a sentence: “You can lead a horticulture but you can’t make her think.” Was her quick response.
Daily association with each other, both at the luncheons and outside of them, inspired members of the Circle to collaborate creatively. The entire group worked together successfully only once, however, to create a revue called No Sirree! which helped launch a Hollywood career for Round Tabler Robert Benchley.
In its ten years of association, the Round Table and a number of its members acquired national reputations both for their contributions to literature and for their sparkling wit. Although some of their contemporaries, and later in life even some of its members, disparaged the group, its reputation has endured long after its dissolution.
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An elderly lady known to one of us was from the States, was visited with quite often before she passed on. She was a school chum of Tallulah and related this Roundtable tale told to her.
We would be quite interested to learn more of the story and possibly about the incident retold below. If anyone is aware of an occurrence similar to this one in or even outside of Pennsylvania please feel free to tell us about it.
Fact or Fiction?
As Related to Emily over afternoon Tea one spring day……..
“We were playing a game, telling each other stories, and then trying to guess if the story was fact or fiction. Darling Harpo had suggested playing it after the reaction he had received for mischievously calling out a distraught Bea on the facts for a bit of society gossip she had been relating….”
“ We gone midway round the circle, and When challenged, M… came up with this story, chilling in the way it was so wretchedly confessed to us. Most of us thought it was fact, but didn’t really want to believe it had occurred. “
“I give the story as best I can through memory, only ever hearing it the one time years ago now. I believe I have captured its’ essence, but I could never in words captured the tortured look, or trembling manner that was shown when it was told before the group. All I can say is, either way; it was a masterful performance….”
The Confession ( story):
M lit a cigarette, and after sending a few wisps of smoke up to dance upon the ceiling, began the tale…
“I have done may things in my life I have later regretted, but this one, in particular, I have never told a living soul until now….” Drawing a deep breath, the story was continued.
“I have always had a curious streak to observe people’s reactions when in various situations. To get a better grasp of how my characters should act. It greatly piqued me to watch, without being seen, a person’s true emotions coming into play. Ralph Waldo Emerson once famously quoted that “ People do not seem to realize that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character” ... and that intriguing thought was what originally sent me on my quest..
Sometimes I was the protagonist behind the scenes whom, unbeknownst to the victims, had set them up. Sometimes I just followed and watched their behavior. I never intended for anyone to get hurt, emotionally or physically. But sometimes they did! Then I would solace my conscience by telling it that I was only doing it to improve upon my craft. But, then this one time, I probably did go a little bit too far….”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Sends a few more puffs of his cigarette wafting in smoky curls upwards as if in thought on how to actually begin…
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“As a young man I would attend all different sorts of functions from all different levels of society to come up with ideas. I ran the gauntlet, from cock fights, hobo’s gathering around a campfire, to a wedding reception worthy of the Rockefellers. I noticed that I felt more at home with the hobos, than the fat cats. A condition, I am sure, caused by some flaw in my character. “
“But this instance, the function I encountered definitely belonged to the latter, Rockefeller fat cat , set.
The event, I soon learned, was the Homecoming of a small private College in a wealthy Pennsylvania community. Not my Alma Mater, but just a place I happened to be passing through which I had stopped whilst traveling home. “
“That there was a function going on in that little place was not hard to miss; the attendees were pouring out onto the streets from all sorts of establishments, and into others, including the bar I was holed up in. After a while I noticed a change in dress of the revelers costumes. School blazers and sensible dresses began to be replaced by tuxes and swishing satin gowns and colourful frocks. Their adornments also changed, from school ties to bow ties, Boaters (straw hats) to top hats for the men: Gold jewelry was replaced by sparkling necklaces and rings upon gloved hands for the ladies.”
“Another change was, that by then, the lot of them was pretty much plastered, but then, so was I!”
“ Finally I was flushed out of my hiding spot , and went for a walk outside to escape the noisy crowd.
I started to circle the upper portion of a large rural park that ran next to my late hiding spot. As I strolled, I noticed a man with a heavy coat and cap, rather sinisterly watching the crowd, standing against a tree just up ahead of me. When he saw me coming towards him, he turned down a path leading into the shadowy depths of the woods. I watched him go down for a minute, and observed that it led down to a small valley, where in the middle, surrounded by trees, stood a quite deserted football field. The path less traveled tonight, I thought to myself.
I kept to the path well-travelled however, and soon after turning a corner, came upon a young couple snogging on a bench. I stopped to watch, my mind racing with a mixture of drink inspired contemplations upon the little scene before me! “
“She was dolled up like a picture actress. Wearing a slithery glossy red gown that shined in the gas lamps pooling light, with matching gloves and a shimmering gold purse, she was a breathing Pygmalion . The jewels she was adorned with, rhinestones, I assumed, glittered happily as she moved. He was in a tux, an Errol Flynn moustache and gold watch chain and fob at his waist. They had no idea anyone was near them! Of course, Then, my cursed foot gave me away all too soon, as it stepped upon a twig, snapping it loudly, calling the couples attention to my peeping. Seeing me they got up and walked past me, snooty noses up in the air. She made a rude noise that would have better fitted an old mare in a barn. Well pardon my eyes I though, stinging from the obvious smite upon my character, which I always had held in high regard. Why dress in that manner and think no one deserves to take notice unless they meet with your approval? The princess was obviously not amused…”
“ I watched with disdain, and then , still transfixed, followed at a discreet distance as they walked back the way I had come. For some reason I was mesmerized by the pair of snobs, watching as they moved, her red gown swishing and swirling like a red waterfall upon the paved stones. They were holding closely onto one another, once again totally oblivious to their surroundings. There was a story there, if only…. “
“They stopped, and I went into the shadow of a tree. Looking back up the path they had come, I thought they may have seen my shadow. For they then looking again to each other, she murmured something and they turned down the very path, the path less travelled, that the heavy coated man had slinked away down. I felt maybe I should have run up and cautioned them against taking that path, but I was still stung by their rude reaction… Besides, I was rather curious to see if anything would happen.
In for pence, in for a pound I remember repeating to myself, as I discreetly continued my stalk.”
“I went into the shadows, seeing a large set of rocks beside the path I climbed up, getting a view of the path winding down into the small valley. I was just above a gas lamp that lit the path as it reached the valley floor below. The lamps lite effectively shadowed the rock whence I was perched. I could see the pair walking in and out of the shadows of the trees. Just as they reached the circle of light below me they stopped and embraced. I watched, totally unabashed.
Then, as I grew bored, or maybe my drink induced fog was started to clear my mind back to reality, I slowly started to make an exit stage right , when a shadow detached itself from a tree directly below me. I stayed mute and froze in my tracks, watching the event I knew was going to occur, began to unfold. The man’s shadowy figure approached the oblivious couple carefully, I could see his head jerking about making sure that the couple was alone, and unprotected. Picking up a chunk of wood he entered the circle of light, which now formed a small stage where a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare was most likely about to unfold!”
“I watched as the startled lovers became aware and tried to stare down the newcomer.
Now in the light, I could see He had shed his coat and gained a mask, but it was definitely the same sinister man I had seen earlier, obviously up to no good. The Errol Flynn wannabe put the girl behind him in defense, the masked man merely raised branch and whacked him on the side of his head, it broke with a sickening crunch, and her gallant defender went down like a sack of cement.
The sinister figure then turned his attention to the now helpless damsel in distress. Raising a cupped hand up he said something in a raspy voice that startled her. Apparently he was asking for her jewels, and the horror struck damsel had arrogantly not yet realized she was being mugged. The ladies long earrings shimmering as she shook her head no in response. The rings on her gloved fingers flashed as her hand went to her throat as she clearly cried out,” not my necklace”, in a hapless act of defiance. In my mind came a picture of a small kitten trying to defy a snarling wolf. She threw the gold purse at him, but he merely caught it, and placed it in his pocket. I remember feeling strangely detached, It may have been shock, but I found myself watching without one ounce of regret. The only thought I could remember was her glittering necklace, maybe they had not been rhinestones, which meant that she actually was wealthy and probably had been looking down her snooty nose upon me, like she probably did her own servants !!.
Well than she obviously did not desire my help, I decided, like she had quite rudely not desired my looking at her earlier… and after all , in her world, servants should be standing quietly in the background, seen but not heard. So, I decided that I wasn’t going to help unless absolutely life or death. Let the little lamb be trimmed of her rich wool I said to myself. She did show spunk, I will admit, but that’s all it was, a show. She went limp as he reached up, grabbing her hand away, than began pulling of the rings as she stood mute with disbelief. The diamond bracelet was wrenched unceremoniously from her wrist. Dropping her hand, he pocketed her rings and bracelet. Than he once again went for her necklace, and she backed up, shaking her head, earrings again shimmering as the pair innocently bounced away from her long hair. Then I saw a flash of silver in his hand, and she fainted dead away at the sight of his ugly blade…”.
“The masked man knelt over to her fallen body. The shiny red gown had spilled around her on the ground, Laying about her inert svelte figure like a pool of red lava. Reaching down and in he claimed her necklace, grasping it up and away from her throat. He looked at it for a few seconds, letting it sparkle in the moon’s light like slivery falling rain.
Then squatting beside her, he pulled away her hair, and yanked her taunting earrings free. He methodically felt along her figure, missing nothing. Then he again produced the knife, slicing off the brooch from her gown’s sash.
He pulled off her red high heels and threw tem deep into the woods.
Then he left her and went over to the unconscious escort, the bloody limb next to him” in quick, precise fashion, ‘Errol’s’, watch chain and fob were pulled free and pocketed. Then he reached in and pulled out the unlucky devils pocket book. Then pulling off ‘Errol’s’ shoes they soon joined the ladies high heels.
Arising calmly, he slowly looked around as he stowed the stolen articles and his knife away. He spent a split second longer on the area I was hidden, causing a shiver to make itself felt! Then, removing the mask he walked to where his long coat lay, and reclaiming it, he continued serenely on his way down the path. I watched in heavy silence as he disappeared in the woods, only to reappear by the football field. It was then that I stole away back up the path, careful not to be seen.”
“And no, I did not give any cry of alarm, did not involve myself by seeking or giving the hapless couple aid. I simply turned and left. I came away with nothing, no ideas, no new feelings for a character, just a sour taste in my mouth and an upset stomach, which I soon tried to relieve by stopping in at the next drinking establishment I came across. Beer didn’t help, so I switched to Scotch…!”
“ About an hour later I heard a siren and sensed commotion outside the confides of my prison. I did not go out to investigate.”
“After a fit less night of unrestful sleep, I left the next morning, daring not to read a paper, or stop there for breakfast ( having a late tea later a few hours away , I put the place and its memories to my back. “
“Ashamedly I did not render any assistance those poor souls, and I admit what I what I did was criminal.. But then in my defense , they ………………….., ”
“Yes?”
“It was at this point that the confession was interrupted by the appearance of a messenger boy sent for M….. Who took his leave, with a wicked smile that seemed to convey relief that an outcome of the story would not have to be faced?
Obliviously loving the mystery it created by the timely appearance of the messenger.” He never could be persuaded to return to his story only smiling that wicked little smile.
So, the worse of it was we never knew… because of the messenger boy’s interruption, never to learn to our satisfaction if the story was true or not..”
“How we all did hate that!”
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There is some question as to the identity of M…. There are six members with M in their initial. It could have been a non-regular or even a nickname. If anyone else has heard of this tale, or could place a finger for us as to who M… may have been, we would welcome the enlightenment.
Charter members of the Round Table included:
Franklin Pierce Adams, columnist
Robert Benchley, humorist and actor
Heywood Broun, columnist and sportswriter (married to Ruth Hale)
Marc Connelly, playwright
Ruth Hale, freelance writer who worked for women's rights
George S. Kaufman, playwright and director
Dorothy Parker
“The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.”
“If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.”
“What fresh hell is this?”
Robert E. Sherwood, author and playwright
John Peter Toohey, publicist
Alexander Woollcott, critic and journalist
"The English have an extraordinary ability for flying into a great calm."
Membership was not official or fixed for so many others who moved in and out of the Circle. Some of these included:
Tallulah Bankhead, actress
Edna Ferber, author and playwright
Margalo Gillmore, actress
Jane Grant, journalist and feminist (married to Ross)
Beatrice Kaufman, editor and playwright (married to George S. Kaufman)
Margaret Leech, writer and historian
Neysa McMein, magazine illustrator
Harpo Marx, comedian and film star
Alice Duer Miller, writer
Donald Ogden Stewart, playwright and screenwriter
Frank Sullivan, journalist and humorist
Deems Taylor, composer
Estelle Winwood, actress
Peggy Wood, actress
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Edwin Georgi
(1896 - 1964)
A leader in the second wave of "pretty-girl" artists: more like pin-ups without actually being pin-ups. Largely self-taught, learning his way up in ad and art agencies. A pilot in WWI. Style ranged from simple, posteresque lines and colors to his more famous pointillist pieces with boldly directed light, a unique use of warm shadows, and sparkling colors. Ads for Webster Cigars, Woodbury, Ford Mercury, Crane paper, Yardley, The Italian Line. In-demand illustrator for Goldenbook Magazine, Fortune, Redbook, Woman's Home Companion, Cosmo, True, Esquire, Ladies' Home Journal,Saturday Evening Post, American Girl, Liberty.
Edwin Georgi was born in 1896 and died in 1964 at the age of 68. He was a pilot in WWI– though I was unable to gather details about his specific tour of duty. Upon returning from the war, he attended Princeton. Eventually he abandoned his education to pursue writing as a full time profession. He was very ambitious, but a turn of fate pushed him another way. He was hired on to write copy for an ad agency , but was persuaded by his employer that he would make a better painter than a writer. Thus his career in illustration began.
Remarkably, he was largely self-taught. He worked his way up the artistic food chain with experience at various ad groups and agencies. His work is known in several national publications; Cosmo, Esquire, Redbook, Ladies’ Home Journal, and The Saturday Evening Post.
Edwin’s style is striking. Very few artists exude the dynamic movement of color as he does. His paintings have a texture that is entirely unique– his staccato strokes seem akin to pointillism, and weave a mesh of breathtaking pallets . Most noir art is obsessed with light and shadow, but Edwin Georgi’s art oscillates betwixt hue and contrast.
Bína:
I don´t get it...
Zabya:
Weird.
Bína:
I mean how it can be? Unbelievable!
Zabya:
Totally.
Bína:
We followed the instructions..
Zabya:
Truly.
Bína:
So, why the jam jar opened counterclockwise!?
Zabya:
Dunno..
Bína:
It should have opened clockwise..
Zabya:
It was tasty tho.
Bína:
* Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh *
"If you imagine someone who is brave enough to withdraw all his projections, then you get an individual who is conscious of a pretty thick shadow. Such a man has saddled himself with new problems and conflicts. He has become a serious problem to himself, as he is now unable to say that they do this or that, they are wrong, and they must be fought against… Such a man knows that whatever is wrong in the world is in himself, and if he only learns to deal with his own shadow he has done something real for the world. He has succeeded in shouldering at least an infinitesimal part of the gigantic, unsolved social problems of our day." - Carl Jung, 1939
Rockport Beach, 210 Seabreeze Dr, Rockport, TX 78382
Thanks to Audrey for letting me use this shot in this context.
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Headline from the Belfast Telegraph Friday 25 July 2014
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4,766 crimes against the elderly, but 96% of cases remain unsolved.
In the last year, police investigated almost 4,800 attacks on people aged 65 and over.
The crimes included violence, sex assaults, robberies and burglaries.
Yet in the vast majority of cases the crimes remained unsolved. Just 4% – one in every 25 – resulted in someone being charged.
It has prompted calls for tougher sentences for those who terrorise older people.
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The safety of older people and their ability to live free from crime and the fear of crime is important. Although older people are less likely to be direct victims of violent crime compared to younger people, any crime impacts on the quality of their life. Feeling vulnerable to assault and abuse often acts to isolate and exclude older people, disconnecting them from their local community. Older people are also more likely to have a fear of crime and often feel more vulnerable than young people because of their personal circumstances.
Please feel free to comment.
With the construction of the Central Washington Railway in 1889, Govan was designated as a place in Lincoln County WA. The discovery of a large sandbank in the area in the autumn of 1890 created a boom town atmosphere as a crew of workmen complete with a steam shovel, extracted sand for the railroad construction. The name is derived from R.B. Govan, a construction engineer employed by the Central Washington Railway. Govan has been the scene of several unsolved murders. Reported December 1902 as "The most brutal crime ever committed in the county." was the axe murder of Judge J.A. Lewis and his wife, Penelope. The elderly Lewis kept sums of money about the house. It was believed robbery was the motive. Govan's eventual demise was hastened in 1933 when the community was bypassed by US Route 2. Only one retail store remained in business as of 1940.
Built in 1906, the old red schoolhouse somehow manages to resist the prairie winds, and leaves ghost town hunters with a strong connection to a much older and very different hardworking America. Closed in 1942, sunlight now passes through its wooden siding. Not much remains inside but 50 years of school day memories.
www.ghosttownsofwashington.com/govan.html
Photo of the abandoned Govan School House captured via Minolta MD Zoom Rokkor-X 24-50mm F/4 lens and the bracketing method of photography. In the ghost town and unincorporated community of Govan. Columbia Plateau Region. Inland Northwest. Lincoln County, Washington. Early March 2018.
Exposure Time: 1/250 sec. * ISO Speed: ISO-160 * Aperture: F/8 * Bracketing: +1 / -1 * Color Temperature: 8700 K * Film Plug-In: Kodak Portra 160 NC