Two days before I took this photo, these peaks as seen from Gaeta were clad in snow. Now only small patches of it remained, and the complex structure of the Mesozoic limestone strata was clearly visible. The cuestalike spurs in the foreground appear to have their beds dipping roughly northward (toward the right); those of the peak behind dip in more or less the opposite direction, toward the sea.

 

Long after my departure for other parts of the world, this section of the Antiapennines was turned into the Parco Naturale dei Monti Aurunci (Aurunci Mountains Nature Park), a designation this ruggedly beautiful section of central Italy well deserves.

 

The Aurunci range is composed of Triassic through Cretaceous limestones and other sedimentary rocks originally deposited on a carbonate platform in the Tethys Ocean.

2ft 6in gauge Alan Keef 4-wheel diesel-hydraulic '05 581' (Works No.18 of 1985) heads a loaded train from the moss to the tippler, passing a peat harvesting machine, on 29th March 2011, the second train in operation that day. The peat operation is believed to have commenced in the 1980s, but the railway was not installed until as recently as 1997.

 

© Gordon Edgar - All rights reserved. Please do not use my images without my explicit permission

Looking up from the street in the old part of Amsterdam. www.picfair.com/pics/05259033-pretty-end-of-terrace

youtu.be/52lEethhS-0

 

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photo:

Cozia Monastery

founded in 1388

[built by Mircea I of Wallachia probably with Serbian craftsmen from the Morava architectural school]

www.monumenteromania.ro/index.php/monumente/detalii/en/Ma...

www.romanianmonasteries.org/other-monasteries/cozia-monas...

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cozia_Monastery

 

Morava architectural school

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morava_architectural_school

 

Mircea I of Wallachia

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mircea_I_of_Wallachia

  

Cladding ???

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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An unusual modern building, designed by Munkenbeck and Marshall, lies on Provost Street to the north of Old Street and Shoreditch.

From head to toe clad in shiny black rubber and latex

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.

*********************************************************************************

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.

.************************************************************************************

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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Bikini-clad Julia Pereira making a splash in the water on the beach in Miami Beach...Pictured: Julia Pereira ..Ref: SPL574028 070713 .Picture by: MCCFL / Splash News..Splash News and Pictures.Los Angeles:310-821-2666.New York:212-619-2666.London:870-934-2666.photodesk@splashnews.com.

Image of “Angie” first appeared : Best true detective cover July 1962

The story of the racket dames behind the sensational Park Avenue Jewel Robberies

 

*****

This is a link to a You Tube Video of a thief not unlike our Angie.

youtu.be/HAZdjhNVjxk

*********

  

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.

 

********************************************************************************

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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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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The fifth generation of the Ford Fiesta was built from 2002 until 2008. The Crossroad was a special edition in the Netherlands. Like many other cross models it has extra body cladding, but not real off-road capabilities.

Lisa in a Red, White, & Blue Bikini

a7rii + Voigtlander Nokton Classic SC 35mm F1.4 VM

Museumsdorf Niedersulz - Weinviertel - Austria

====Beneath Arkham====

 

"Drury, can you hear that?"

 

Drury- Like a-

 

Miranda- Like a heartbeat.

 

She draws her sword. Whatever's nearby, it's loud, and it's powerful. Before Drury can shine a torch up at it, a ball of brown and yellow slashes his back, and he stumbles forwards. Miranda and Norbert turn around, just barely dodging a series of sharp shurikens. Bearded and crazed, their attacker jumps down.

 

"It's true. Cats always land on their feet."

 

Miranda- Blake. Strange send you here?

 

Blake- Wasn't hard sweetheart, I'd recognise your scent, anywhere. The pineapple shampoo, the coconut perfume, the copper blood- A-Positve.

 

Drury- Blake, we're friends!

 

Blake- Friends! Is that us? Now, I bet you've already told Chuck and Rigger and Len the good news, that you're getting them out, right? Maybe even Jules! But, you were planning to leave *me*, weren't you? All because I tried "sleeping with your wife"

 

Drury- You... Did?

 

He looks at Blake, betrayed, then at Miranda.

 

Miranda- Shot him in the leg. It's fine.

 

Blake- That hurt! Thinking maybe I deserve a little compensation...

 

Miranda- Compensation? I call my sword that, maybe-

 

Drury- Wait, just shut it. Sorry. ... You're arrogant, yeah, you're a womaniser, yeah, but you're not some tacky rapist. You don't beat women, you don't force yourself on- I mean, you're much better than that, surely? You aren't an *actual* cat, you don't even have green eyes, you-

 

Drury squints his eyes. Blake has brown eyes. He's always had brown eyes, so why... Why are they green?

 

"You aren't Blake."

 

The Faux-Blake licks his lips

 

Drury- Oh no.

 

"In a sea of other Misfits, it's the Cat who's King"

 

Norbert- I don't understand, he's not the cat man?

 

Drury- Worse.

 

Miranda- Much worse.

 

The King of Cats laughs, his green eyes the only light source.

 

"Oh, you can't imagine how long I've been inside that Pretender! Sometimes, he protests... But he doesn't even know what's going on... You brought me my sister, Mr Drury. And when she and I are together, I will be whole again, and you might have Mr Thomas. What's left of him

 

Miranda- You can't believe-

 

Kyle- The Fireman. The Rat-Man. The Bouncer. The Zodiac. Each have tried to snuff me out. But five, five lives are left. Not even you, Ms Miranda, can kill me five-

 

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Four bullets. And with that, four lives are gone, and Drury Walker drops a mask of his own.

 

Drury- I want you to know, I could damn well have shot you again. But, you're alive, because there's a chance, a small chance the real Tom Blake's in there. Now get the hell out of here.

 

Kyle grins, Blake's smile perverted by him. Then slinks off into the abyss.

 

Miranda- Drury-

 

Drury- I'm just- I'm just getting sick of damn betrayals.

 

Composing himself, he grabs his torch and shines down the tunnel. A dark figure illuminated by it.

 

====The Belfry====

 

Selina- Bruce, look.

 

Bodies everywhere... Someone did this with their bare hands.

 

"Tread lightly."

 

She winks, replying slyly, "It's like you don't even know me," before going on her tip toes. "There was a cell block this way, ran into a wonderful, not-at-all Hannibal inmate."

 

Batman- Day?

 

"That's the one"

 

From his cell, Julian stares at Batman, with utter contempt. It's true, some C-Listers respected him, some, like Walker, even admired him, but the Calendar Man? Julian Day felt nothing but hatred for the Bat. Many did. He nods to Selina, and they walk past. As they near the guard's room, an empty bottle of beer rolls along the ground towards them. Slumped across the table, Abner Krill dozes peacefully, either ignorant or uncaring of the massacre. The duo, still very much in sync, sneak past him, and enter the elevator. Bruce pauses, then puts his hand to his ear.

 

"Walker?"

 

=========

 

"Uh, Batman, I think we found your pulse..."

 

He doesn't even look human. Large metal wires are plugged into his chest, cables strap him into a generator, with electricity crackling through his veins. If not for the tattered remains of his red and yellow costume, Drury might not have even recognised him.

 

"Cobb."

 

Norbert- Who... What is he?

 

Drury- Signal Man, he's a supervillain, a real asshole-

 

Miranda- A terrorist. Let's say it how it is.

 

Drury- A terrorist with cancer... Jesus, what did they do to him?

 

"Only what was necessary. Never more. Never less."

 

The lights flick on, illuminating the ancient architecture. They're in the Court of Owls, and they've been expecting them.

Ubu is wheeling Ra's in, flanked by Talia, and two masked ninjas. Above them, hundreds of Owls watch, heckling them,

 

"Hello Mr Walker, I believe you've been looking for me."

 

=====Warehouse Six====

 

"They've been gone too long." Chuck's failed, Firebug and the Ten-Eyed Man are dead and the Penguin's still in power. That's the only thing Needham can think, as he stands watch over the warehouse. But, once again, as if someone had been listening to his thoughts, Rigger, Reardon and Sharpe arrive at the camp, panting for breath, but very much alive.

 

Needham- Sharpe? Rigger, what's-

 

Rigger mumbles something about Evil Ninjas as Reardon starts to remove Zeiss' bonds.

 

Needham- What the hell are you-

 

Rigger takes a deep breath.

 

"Some weirdo's following us, Rachel Ghoul wants to kill everyone, Drury's here to stop him, and he probably will, but failing that, we're leaving. We need to move, and that includes *him*"

 

Meghan- That bastard tried to kill us! And where's Chuck?

 

Ten- Oh, god knows...

 

"My guess is he went to visit Black Mask." Zeiss is on his feet, brushing the dirt off of himself. "Which means Penguin's secrets are likely out." Which means... Which means... I've failed my contract!" He draws a knife, Mayo in his grasp. He turns to Chancer.

 

Mayo- Rigger, help!

 

Zeiss- How rude of me. You're new. You must be one of the accomplices Lock-Up mentioned.

 

Chancer- Chancer.

 

Zeiss pushes Mayo over, and drops his knife, raising a hand to Chancer.

"Zeiss. Philo Zeiss." "You must know about the owls."

 

Chancer- I do.

 

Zeiss- Good. We don't have long, your pursuer will be here soon, but I'll hold him off as long as possible.

 

"But-"

 

Zeiss- Penguin will be at Pike Munitions, it's not far and you'll find your friend, Charles there. ... What? I'm an assassin, I'm not unreasonable. Go.

 

As the Misfits depart, a purple clad figure drops to the ground, his purple cape flapping in the wind. He smiles at Zeiss, and calls out, rather cheerily, "Hey!" Zeiss picks up his pistol and turns around to meet his assailant, this would be his final stand, a challenge worth his mettle. Him... and Prometheus.

 

"I like your glasses."

 

=====The Court of Owls=====

 

"How long?"

 

Ra's smiles, faintly. "You mean, how long I have been meddling in your affairs? Since you failed me. Since my Lazarus Pit was destroyed, and you left me a decrepit, dying old man. I warned you, Mr Walker. Fail me, and I would kill everyone you loved. I started with your boy, Axel, sending Cain to eliminate him. It is... fortunate, that he had Cain's daughter by his side. He might not have lived otherwise. And, of course, if not for Cypher."

He points to Cypher, standing among the other Assassins, his eyes pleading with Drury's. His limbs replaced with cybernetics, no doubt a consequence of defying Ra's.

"He urged me to reconsider. Told me of your bravery, of your honour, when you saved Ms Pike using the Pit's waters. I admit, I was impressed, perhaps I wrote you off too quickly, a mere insect. Or... perhaps not. Maybe it always was the company you keep."

His gaze wanders over to Miranda, and then to Norbert.

 

"I've allowed you to come here, the three of you, as a professional courtesy. Because you deserve to know your enemy, and to know exactly what is going to happen.

In this past decade of rising supervillany, and their growing need for fame and power, do you know who has done the most damage to this accursed city? Not the Joker, no. Not Bane, or Doctor Crane, or that ridiculous cabal of supervillains- the Secret Society I believe... No. Mother Nature. Where were you when the first earthquake hit Gotham, insect? In the comfort of your home? In that basement of yours? I recall where I was. Toppling the corrupt governments of Qurac. It was... inspiring, I'll admit, to watch the world itself do what thousands have tried and failed to accomplish. Hundreds dead in one destructive stroke. And in their hour of need, where was your government? They were planting signs.

 

Miranda- You're going to create an earthquake?

 

====The Belfry====

 

"Oracle, I'm sending you everything from the Arkham database. Get this to Mayor Grange now."

 

Oracle- Is that-?

 

"Cobb... They're using him as a generator, and given enough time... He'll explode, taking half of Arkham with him, just-"

 

Oracle- Cassie's on it. Bruce, if Drury can't- I'm sorry.

 

Bruce sighs, and turning away from the console, finds Selina unconscious on the ground.

 

Batman- You killed those guards...

 

"She's right. You can't save everyone. If you don't open those gates, the inmates will die. Buried in rubble, if they haven't killed *themselves* first. But if you do..."

 

Batman- The inmates run free. And with enough firepower to level the city. Whatever I do, people will die.

 

"And you will be their killer. The Gangsters, or Gotham. This, is the Demon's Trap Batman."

 

Batman- They won't fail. The inmates will evacuate. Safely.

 

"Yes. The little people. But Two-Face? Black Mask? The Penguin? Would they listen when they are too busy fighting each other? No. You've put your faith in the hands of Killer Moth and men of his ilk. You've put them up against The Demon's Head, and the League of Assassins. I wonder if, they too, will die buried by the city they called home."

 

Batman- Why are you here, Bane? To gloat? Kick me while I'm down?

 

Bane- No. I have come to help you. The Society-

 

Batman- Please. You're a figurehead who built his reputation off of my back. You're nothing to them.

 

Bane- Lies! I am Bane! I have power, more than I have ever-

 

Batman- And you think that gives you leverage on Sinestro? Grodd? Ocean Master? They'll abandon you just like they did Luthor

 

Bane- The choice is yours Batman. Killer Moth can not save Arkham. I can.

 

Batman- And in doing so, you'll have recruited another hundred agents to the Society.

 

Bane- Yes.

 

Batman- No. I don't want your help.

 

Bane- I thought not. And I am still disappointed. Those who have not taken a life do not understand the value of it. Or it's meaning.

 

Batman- And those who have, are placed on a path where they're liable to take another. And another. And another.

 

Bane- You can't still be so naive. Yes, Walker may save some, but not all of them- they'd be souls, Batman, you would have let die. No one would blame you. They wouldn't even have to know. But I know you would. You are Batman. Just one death is too many, isn't it?

Or save them all.

 

====The Court=====

 

"Yes. One that envelops Arkham City, and it's population of thieves and rapists. Earth can not sustain its people, I've seen it first hand. It is running out of resources, and running out of space. The least we could do, is remove the undesirables sucking up air. And there are... other benefits."

He gestures to another machine, greyish liquid moves about, it's shifting, transforming. The device looks familiar, almost like the Cloudburst.

 

Drury- But what's stopping you from getting buried with the rest of them?

 

"Nth metal. The Owls built this complex centuries ago, in the days of false gods and metal. The vibrations will move through the facility, but not harming those of us within.

Of course, with the inmates too busy hunting rogue snipers and killing each other, our work here has remained relatively undisturbed. It takes immense energy, to power such a machine... Fortunately, we have the perfect battery. All we needed was to move Mr Cobb from his home in the Belfry's generator room, to here. ... Nothing more to say?"

 

Drury kneels before Ra's, then swallowing, looks up, and grabs his hand.

 

"I challenge you to trial by combat."

IMG_4325

A wandering sadhu (holy man) in Ahmedabad. You can read more about sadhus here.

Built in 1927-1929, this Gothic Revival-style building was designed by George F. Schreiber to serve as the Scottish Rite Cathedral for the freemasons of the city of Indianapolis. The building is clad in Indiana Limestone, and features gothic arched bays with decorative tracery, casement windows, buttresses, decorative parapets, a gothic arched main entrance bay with a transom featuring decorative tracery at the base of the building’s tower, large gothic arched windows at the central bays of the north and south facades, octagonal corner towers, and decorative reliefs and niches on the exterior. The building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1983, and today remains in use as a masonic temple.

The ivy-clad ruin of St. Mary's is in the grounds of the Burnley Hall Estate. The building sees little sunlight and set in the trees it is extremely easy to miss it.

St. Mary survived the Reformation, but the parish was then absorbed into the neighbouring parishes Winterton and West Somerton. The building then operated as a chapel of ease to Burnley Hall until the 17th. century, before falling into disuse. It is likely that the chancel was lost and in ruins even before that, and probably this accelerated the church's demise. Today only the 13th. century west tower, now minus its belfry stage, and the 15th. century nave remain.

Growing in the middle of the nave there is a huge oak tree called 'The Witches Leg'. The logical explanation for this is that a squirrel must have buried an acorn in the ruined nave.

However, according to local legend, it is said that a witch with a wooden leg was buried alive in the the church’s foundations and the church was built around her to contain her evil. As she lay in the ground suffocating with bloodthirsty onlookers standing over her, she cursed her leg to grow into a tree and destroy the church as revenge for her murder

Others variations on the folklore have the tree called 'The Witch’s Finger', growing from the site of her execution and pointing accusingly towards heaven, while another version says that the witch was taken to the abandoned church by villagers who felt it wise to dig her grave on consecrated ground.

The legend goes on to say that if anybody were to walk around the tree three times, the witch’s spirit would be released, however, it’s believed ghostly monks haunt the church and keep intruders from releasing the spirit.

This sheltered area of Norfolk’s coastline was once a hunting ground for witch-finders from the 1580's up to the days of Matthew Hopkin, 'The Witchfinder General', who's reign of terror lasted from March 1644 until his retirement in 1647. The persecution of so called witches, paid for by the people amounted to state-sanctioned murder. Whipped into a froth of fear and suspicion, the county was quick to condemn and just as fast to commit. If East Somerton’s villagers discovered what they believed to be witchcraft in their midst, they would not have thought before acting.

 

St. Mary's received Grade; II listed building status on 25th. September 1962. (English Heritage Legacy ID: 402081).

Is was a rainy day and this is hand held to boot, but what the heck. The subdued tones kind of suit me. Hope you like them too. :-)

Mistress 1 (2003)

The station's name comes from the St. Pancras neighbourhood, which originates from the fourth-century Christian boy martyr Pancras of Rome. The station was commissioned by the Midland Railway (MR), who had a network of routes in the Midlands, and in south and west Yorkshire and Lancashire but no route of its own to London. Before 1857 the MR used the lines of the L&NWR for trains into the capital; subsequently the company's Leicester and Hitchin Railway gave access to London via the Great Northern Railway (GNR).

 

In 1862, traffic for the second International Exhibition suffered extensive delays over the stretch of line into London over the GNR's track; the route into the city via the L&NWR was also at capacity, with coal trains causing the network at Rugby and elsewhere to reach effective gridlock. This was the stimulus for the MR to build its own line to London from Bedford, which would be just under 50 miles (80 km) long. Samuel Carter was solicitor for the parliamentary bill, which was sanctioned in 1863.

 

Design and construction

 

The interior of the Barlow Trainshed, circa 1870

The station was designed by William Henry Barlow and constructed on a site that had previously been a slum called Agar Town. Though coal and goods were the main motivation to build the station, the Midland realised the prestige of having a central London terminus and decided it must have a front on Euston Road. The company purchased the eastern section of land on the road's north side owned by Earl Somers.

 

The approaching line to the station crossed the Regent's Canal at height allowing the line reasonable gradients; this resulted in the level of the line at St Pancras being 20 ft (6.1 m) above the ground level. Initial plans were for a two or three span roof with the void between station and ground level filled with spoil from tunnelling to join the Midland Main Line to the St. Pancras branch. Instead, due to the value of the land in such a location the lower area was used for freight, in particular beer from Burton. As a result, the undercroft was built with columns and girders, maximising space, set out to the same plans as those used for beer warehouses, and with a basic unit of length that of a beer barrel.

 

The contract for the construction of the station substructure and connecting lines was given to Messrs. Waring, with Barlow's assistant Campion as supervisor. The lower floor for beer warehousing contained interior columns 15 ft (4.57 m) wide, and 48 ft (14.63 m) deep carrying girders supporting the main station and track. The connection to the Widened Lines (St. Pancras branch) ran below the station's bottom level, in an east-to-west direction.

 

To avoid the foundations of the roof interfering with the space beneath, and to simplify the design, and minimise cost, it was decided to construct a single span roof, with cross ties for the arch at the station level. The arch was sprung directly from the station level, with no piers. Additional advice on the design of the roof was given to Barlow by Rowland Mason Ordish. The arches' ribs had a web depth of 6 ft (1.8 m), mostly open ironwork. The span width, from wall to wall was 245 ft 6 in (74.83 m), with a rib every 29 ft 4 in (8.94 m) The arch was a slightly pointed design, with a reduced radius of curvature at the springing points. The Butterley Company was contracted to construct the arches. The total cost of the 24 rib roof and glazing was over £53,000, of which over half was for the main ribs. The cost of the gable end was a further £8,500.

  

The clock tower of St Pancras:

The single-span overall roof was the largest such structure in the world at the time of its completion. The materials used were wrought iron framework of lattice design, with glass covering the middle half and timber (inside)/slate (outside) covering the outer quarters. The two end screens were glazed in a vertical rectangular grid pattern with decorative timber cladding around the edge and wrought iron finials around the outer edge. It was 689 feet (210.01 m) long, 240 feet (73.15 m) wide, and 100 feet (30.48 m) high at the apex above the tracks. At the time of opening, it was the world's largest unsupported station roof.

 

Local services began running to the Metropolitan Railway junction underneath the terminus on 13 July 1868. The station itself opened to the public on 1 October. The first service was an overnight mail train from Leeds.

 

Early services

St Pancras was built during a period of expansion for the MR, as the major routes to Manchester, Nottingham, Sheffield and Carlisle opened during this time. By 1902, there were 150 trains arriving and leaving the station daily, though this figure was far less than Waterloo or Liverpool Street. As well as Midland services, the Great Eastern Railway (GER) used St Pancras as a "West End" terminus for trains to Great Yarmouth, Norwich, Lowestoft between 1870 and 1917. At the turn of the 20th century, St Pancras also had a faster service to Cambridge than King's Cross, at 71 minutes. GER services were suspended because of World War I and never resumed.

 

The London, Tilbury and Southend Railway (LTSR) began offering boat train services from St Pancras from 9 July 1894, following the opening of the Tottenham and Forest Gate Railway. The trains ran from St Pancras to Tilbury via South Tottenham and Barking. Tilbury Docks then provided a connection to Australia and Scandinavia. The following year, the LTSR began a service from St Pancras to Southend Central. Boat trains continued to run from St Pancras until 1963, after which they were moved to Liverpool Street and Fenchurch Street.

 

Grouping, nationalisation and privatisation

 

The station was damaged by a bomb in May 1941 during the Blitz.

The Railways Act of 1921 forced the merger of the Midland with the London and North Western Railway (L&NWR) into the London, Midland and Scottish Railway (LMS), and the LMS adopted the LNWR's (the "Premier Line") Euston station as its principal London terminus. The Midland Grand Hotel was closed in 1935, and the building was subsequently used as offices for British Railways. During World War II, bombing inflicted damage on the train shed, which was only partially reglazed after the war. On the night of 10–11 May 1941 a bomb fell onto the station floor at platform 3, exploding in the beer vaults underneath. The station was not significantly damaged, but was closed for eight days, with platforms 2–3 remaining closed until June. In 1947 the St. Pancras junction was relaid with prefabricated trackwork, along with associated changes to the signalling system.

 

On the creation of British Railways (BR) in 1948, St Pancras received a significant investment after neglect by the LMS. Destinations included the London area services to North Woolwich, St Albans and Bedford. Long-distance trains reached Glasgow, Leeds, Nottingham, Sheffield and Manchester, with famous named trains including The Palatine to Manchester, The Thames-Clyde Express to Glasgow, and The Master Cutler to Sheffield (transferred from King's Cross in 1966, which itself had transferred from Marylebone eight years earlier).

 

On 7 October 1957, the signalling at St Pancras was upgraded, replacing the three original boxes with a power box controlling 205 route switches and 33 points over a network of 1,400 relays. From 1960 to 1966, electrification work on the West Coast Main Line between London and Manchester saw a new Midland Pullman from Manchester to St Pancras. These trains and those to Glasgow were withdrawn following the completion of the rebuilding of Euston and the consolidation of these services.

 

By the 1960s, St Pancras was seen as redundant, and several attempts were made to close it and demolish the hotel (by then known as St Pancras Chambers). These attempts provoked strong and successful opposition, with the campaign led by the later Poet Laureate, John Betjeman. Jane Hughes Fawcett with the Victorian Society was instrumental in its preservation, and was dubbed "the furious Mrs. Fawcett" by British rail officials. Many of the demonstrators had witnessed the demolition of the nearby Euston Arch a few years previously, and were strongly opposed to the distinctive architecture of St Pancras suffering the same fate. The station became Grade I listed building in November 1967, preventing any drastic modifications. The plans were scrapped by BR in December 1968, realising that it was more cost-effective to modernise the hotel instead, though they disliked owning it.

 

In the 1970s, the train shed roof was in danger of collapse, and the newly appointed Director of Environment Bernard Kaukas persuaded the company to invest £3m to save it. In 1978, a Private Eye piece said that British Rail really wanted to demolish St Pancras but were opposed by "a lot of long-haired sentimentalists" and "faceless bureaucrats" and praised the office blocks that replaced the Euston Arch.

 

After the sectorisation of British Rail in 1986, main-line services to the East Midlands were provided by the InterCity sector, with suburban services to St Albans, Luton and Bedford by Network SouthEast. In 1988 the Snow Hill tunnel re-opened resulting in the creation of the Thameslink route and the resultant diversion of the majority of suburban trains to the new route. The station continued to be served by trains running on the Midland main line to Leicester, Nottingham and Sheffield, together with a few suburban services to Bedford and Luton. These constituted only a few trains an hour and left the station underused.

 

Following the privatisation of British Rail, the long-distance services from St Pancras were franchised to Midland Mainline, a train operating company owned by National Express, starting on 28 April 1996. The few remaining suburban trains still operating into St Pancras were operated by the Thameslink train operating company, owned by Govia, from 2 March 1997.

 

A small number of trains to and from Leeds were introduced, mainly because the High Speed Train sets were maintained there and were already running empty north of Sheffield. During the 2000s major rebuild of the West Coast Main Line, St Pancras again temporarily hosted direct and regular inter-city trains to Manchester, this time via the Hope Valley route (via the Dore South curve) under the title of Project Rio.

 

New role

 

Model of the extended St Pancras station (left) and King's Cross station (right, seen before restoration circa 2012)

The original plan for the Channel Tunnel Rail Link (CTRL) involved a tunnel from south-east of London to an underground terminus in the vicinity of King's Cross. However, a late change of plan, principally driven by the then Secretary of State for the Environment Michael Heseltine's desire for urban regeneration in east London, led to a change of route, with the new line approaching London from the east. This opened the possibility of reusing St Pancras as the terminus, with access via the North London Line, which crosses the throat of the station.

 

The idea of using the North London line was rejected in 1994 by the transport secretary, John MacGregor, as "difficult to construct and environmentally damaging". However, the idea of using St Pancras station as the terminus was retained, albeit now linked by 12.4 miles (20 km) of new tunnels to Dagenham via Stratford.

 

London and Continental Railways (LCR), created at the time of British Rail privatisation, was selected by the government in 1996 to reconstruct St Pancras, build the CTRL, and take over the British share of the Eurostar operation. LCR had owned St Pancras station since privatisation to allow the station to be redeveloped. Financial difficulties in 1998, and the collapse of Railtrack in 2001, caused some revision of this plan, but LCR retained ownership of the station.

 

The design and project management of reconstruction was undertaken on behalf of LCR by Rail Link Engineering (RLE), a consortium of Bechtel, Arup, Systra and Halcrow. The original reference design for the station was by Nick Derbyshire, former head of British Rail's in-house architecture team. The master plan of the complex was by Foster and Partners, and the lead architect of the reconstruction was Alistair Lansley, a former colleague of Nick Derbyshire recruited by RLE.

 

To accommodate 300-metre+ Eurostar trains, and to provide capacity for the existing trains to the Midlands and the new Kent services on the high-speed rail link, the train shed was extended a considerable distance northwards by a new flat-roofed shed. The station was initially planned to have 13 platforms under this extended train shed. East Midlands services would use the western platforms, Eurostar services the middle platforms, and Kent services the eastern platforms. The Eurostar platforms and one of the Midland platforms would extend back into the Barlow train shed. Access to Eurostar for departing passengers would be via a departure suite on the west of the station, and then to the platforms by a bridge above the tracks within the historic train shed. Arriving Eurostar passengers would leave the station by a new concourse at its north end.

 

This original design was later modified, with access to the Eurostar platforms from below, using the station undercroft and allowing the deletion of the visually intrusive bridge. By dropping the extension of any of the Midland platforms into the train shed, space was freed up to allow wells to be constructed in the station floor, which provided daylight and access to the undercroft.

 

The reconstruction of the station was recorded in the BBC Television documentary series The Eight Hundred Million Pound Railway Station broadcast as six 30-minute episodes between 13‒28 November 2007.

 

Rebuilding

 

The Meeting Place and the Olympic Rings for the 2012 Summer Olympics

By early 2004, the eastern side of the extended train shed was complete, and the Barlow train shed was closed to trains. From 12 April 2004, Midland Mainline trains terminated at an interim station occupying the eastern part of the extension immediately adjacent to the entrance.

 

As part of the construction of the western side of the new train shed that now began, an underground "box" was constructed to house new platforms for Thameslink, which at this point ran partially under the extended station. In order for this to happen, the existing Thameslink tunnels between Kentish Town and King's Cross Thameslink were closed between 11 September 2004 and 15 May 2005 while the works were carried out. Thameslink services from the north terminated in the same platforms as the Midland Main Line trains, while services from the south terminated at King's Cross Thameslink.

 

When the lines were re-opened, the new station box was still only a bare concrete shell and could not take passengers. Thameslink trains reverted to their previous route but ran through the station box without stopping. The budget for the Channel Tunnel Rail Link works did not include work on the fitting out of the station, as these works had originally been part of the separate Thameslink 2000 works programme. Despite lobbying by rail operators who wished to see the station open at the same time as St Pancras International, the Government failed to provide additional funding to allow the fit out works to be completed immediately following the line blockade. Eventually, on 8 February 2006, Alistair Darling, the Secretary of State for Transport, announced £50 million funding for the fit-out of the station, plus another £10–15 million for the installation of associated signalling and other lineside works.

 

The fit-out works were designed by Chapman Taylor and Arup (Eurostar) and completed by ISG Interior Plc Contractors collaborating with Bechtel as Project Managers. The client was London and Continental Railways who were advised by Hitachi Consulting.

 

In 2005, planning consent was granted for a refurbishment of the former Midland Grand Hotel building, with plans to refurbish and extend it as a hotel and apartment block. The newly refurbished hotel opened to guests on 21 March 2011 with a grand opening ceremony on 5 May.

 

By the middle of 2006, the western side of the train shed extension was completed. The rebuilding cost was in the region of £800 million, up from an initial estimate of £310 million.

 

The International station

In early November 2007, Eurostar conducted a testing programme in which some 6000 members of the public were involved in passenger check-in, immigration control and departure trials, during which the "passengers" each made three return journeys out of St Pancras to the entrance to the London tunnel. On 4 September 2007, the first test train ran from Paris Gare du Nord to St Pancras. Children's illustrator Quentin Blake was commissioned to provide a huge mural of an "imaginary welcoming committee" as a disguise for one of the remaining ramshackle Stanley Building South immediately opposite the station exit.

 

St Pancras was officially re-opened as St Pancras International, and the High Speed 1 service was launched on 6 November 2007 by Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh. Services were extended to Rotterdam and Amsterdam in April 2018.

 

During an elaborate opening ceremony, actor Timothy West, as Henry Barlow, addressed the audience, which was also entertained by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and the singers Lemar and Katherine Jenkins. In a carefully staged set piece, the first Class 395 train and two Class 373 trains arrived through a cloud of dry ice in adjacent platforms within seconds of each other. During the ceremony, Paul Day's large bronze statue The Meeting Place was also unveiled. At a much smaller ceremony on 12 November 2007, the bronze statue of John Betjeman by sculptor Martin Jennings was unveiled by Betjeman's daughter, the author Candida Lycett Green. Public service by Eurostar train via High Speed 1 started on 14 November 2007. In a small ceremony, station staff cut a ribbon leading to the Eurostar platforms. In the same month, services to the East Midlands were transferred to a new franchisee, East Midlands Trains. The low-level Thameslink platforms opened on 9 December 2007, replacing King's Cross Thameslink.

 

St Pancras has retained a reputation of having one of the most recognisable facades of all the London termini, and is known as the "cathedral of the railways". In Britain's 100 Best Railway Stations by Simon Jenkins, the station was one of only ten to be awarded five stars. The station has bilingual signs in French and English, one of the few in England to do so.

 

Services:

St Pancras contains four groups of platforms on two levels, accessed via the main concourse at ground level. The below-surface group contains through platforms A and B, and the upper level has three groups of terminal platforms: domestic platforms 1–4 and 11–13 on each side of international platforms 5–10. Platforms A & B serve Thameslink, 1–4 connect to the Midland Main Line, while platforms 11–13 lead to High Speed 1; there is no connection between the two lines, except for a maintenance siding outside the station. There are also a variety of shops and restaurants within the station concourse.

 

The station is the London terminus for Eurostar's high-speed trains to Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam and Lille via the Channel Tunnel. It is also the terminus for East Midlands services from London to Derby, Leicester, Nottingham, Sheffield, and smaller towns en route. Thameslink trains on the cross-London Thameslink route call at platforms beneath the main station, south to Gatwick Airport and Brighton and north to Luton Airport Parkway for Luton Airport and Bedford. High-speed domestic services to Kent, run by Southeastern, depart on the same level as Eurostar & East Midlands Trains.

 

The terminal is one of relatively few railway stations in England to feature multilingual signage in English and French. In March 2014, the station's public relations team commissioned a study of mispronounced words, reportedly as a result of passengers referring to the station as "St Pancreas".

Roberts Park Lodge with a snow-clad roof in the foreground, with Salt's Mill behind on a snowy day in February.

Poem.

 

Pyramidal peak of Schiehallion.

Verdant pine-clad slopes.

Scattered, wooded islands.

Gentler slopes.

Less stark and austere than the

wildest scenes of the far North-West.

Perthshire is a colourful mosaic of fern, heather,

loch, trees and a patchwork of

intervening arable and pasture.

At distance, or when passing clouds

block the radiance of the high summer sun,

the mountains fade from blueberry blue

to hues of purple, grey and indigo.

This is Perthshire.

This is the Highlands.

And all with a Royal Seal of Approval,

following an 1866 visit by Queen Victoria.

 

Beautiful color , texture, pattern and rustic look

In quest of the Sacred Flames of the Sandhi Puja – The belief is, this will eradicate all the evils.

 

Duga Puja - 2013 of our Association - South Madras Cultural association - Chennai, India.

 

IN FLICKR EXPLORE ON 17-11-2013.

www.flickr.com/photos/59670248@N05/10911246503/in/explore...

 

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Sandhi Puja -

An integral and important part of Durga Puja, Sandhi Puja is performed at the juncture of the 8th and 9th lunar day. Sandhi puja lasts from the last 24 minutes of Ashtami till the first 24 minutes of Nabami. During this juncture (the "Sandhikhan"), Durga is worshipped in her Chamunda form. Devi Durga killed, Chando and Mundo, the two asuras at "Sandhikhan" and thus acquired the name of "Chamunda".

 

Myth behind Durga being worshipped as Chamunda -

While the Goddess and Mahishasura were engaged in a fierce battle, the two generals of Mahisha, Chando and Mundo attacked the Devi from the the rear. Durga appeared to them, a brilliantly glowing woman with her hair knotted on her head, a crescent moon above her forehead, a 'tilak' on her forehead and a garland around her neck. With golden earrings and clad in a yellow saari she emitted a golden glow. Her ten hands possessed ten different weapons. Though she appeared beautiful her face turned blue with anger when she faced Chondo and Mundo. From her third eye then emerged a Devi with a large falchion and a shield. She had a large face, bloody tongue and sunken blood shot eyes. She was Chamunda. With a bloodcurdling shriek she leapt forward and killed them. This moment was the juncture of the 8th and 9th lunar day.

 

Age old yardsticks for measuring the "Sandhikhan" -

Long back devotees in order to perform the Sandhi Puja at the exact juncture used a number of methods. With the last 24 mins. of the Ashtami puja still left, a bronze bowl with a tiny hole was placed in a bucket full of water. The bowl with the tiny hole was made in such a way that it took exactly 24 minutes for the bowl to submerge in the water. The moment the bowl submerged in the water cannon balls were

 

fired announcing this moment of Sandhi Puja. This yardstick for measuring the "Sandhikhan" was very popular ages ago in many "Rajbaris". Many "Rajbaris", including, the zamindar of Sutanuti of Sobhabajar Rajbari fired cannon balls to announce the "Sandhikhan". People around Sobhabajar waited for this indication to proceed with their puja. King of Krishnanagar, Raja Krishna Chandra, was given the

 

cannon of Plassey as a gift from Robert Clive. In Shikharbhum Rajbari a platter with vermillion (sindur) used to be kept in front of the Devi. It is said the foot prints of the Devi could be seen in the platter. This moment indicated the commencement of Sandhi Puja. Sabarno Raychoudhury of Barisha worshipped the Chamunda Devi by burning 'Layta' and 'Pholui' (types of fishes) fishes.

 

Things needed to perform Sandhi Puja -

Sandhi Puja requires 108 lotus flowers, a single fruit, dry rice grain for "noibiddo", 108 earthen lamps, clothes, jewelry, hibiscus garlands and wood apple (bel) leaves. The almost non existent rituals which underwent changes with the changes in the society can still be seen in some of the 200-250 year old Pujas.

 

Source : www.bangalinet.com/sandhipuja_article.htm

  

View On Black

"Evacuate! Evacuate!"

  

The strained orders of the MPD officer filled the street, dozens of citizens fleeing the crowded area. On the ground were toys; dozens of Superman action figures, all equipped with laser eyes that shred through steel and concrete.

  

"Officers," called out a voice from above. The squad of police turned, seeing the blue and red clad figure floating above them. "I'll take care of this, focus on evacuation."

  

The officer in command nodded, ushering his team to follow. Clark looked at the street, dozens of the mechanical toys designed after himself rampaging across the city.

  

He quickly zipped down, his eyes glowing red and blasting multiple with his heat vision. The plastic of the toy melts as he does, revealing the shining silver exoskeleton.

  

"Great," he mutters, doubling back to the now exoskeleton toys. "If heat vision won't work, guess I've got to stick to freezing."

  

With that, Clark lets out a large breath, icy air blasting from his mouth onto the robots. The silver toys form a white like frost as they slow to a stop, falling onto the ground.

  

"At least I know that wasn't a fluke back at-"

  

Before Clark can finish his sentence, the glass of a nearby store shatters. His head turns to see more toys leaping from the window, all converging on him.

  

As Clark readies for a large gust of air, a toy from behind him latches to the back of his neck; it's laser eyes firing directly on his skin. Clark' hand moves to grab a hold of the toy, bringing it to his face. A quick blast of freeze breath causes the toy to go rigid, Clark's fist closing to shatter the figure.

  

Another toy instantly leaps to Clark, following suit to latch onto him, only by the thigh. Before he can react, another grabs hold of his arm, keeping him from reaching for the other toy. Another followed, then again. As Clark struggled, more of the figures attached to his body, keeping him in place. As being covered, two of the toys flew full force into the backs of his knees, taking the hero down to a praying position.

  

Clark struggled, his mind searching for a way out. His current position stopped his freeze breath from being usable, while his heat vision was useless against the robots.

  

Suddenly, a bright green light filled his vision, the robots seemingly vanishing from his body. His head turned, looking up to see two men floating in the air.

  

"Heya, big blue," called out Hall Jordan, smiling next to John Stewart. "Forget to read the instructions?"

  

-^- An hour earlier -^-

  

"Merry Christmas," said John, smiling as he handed the couple in front of him a Superman action figure.

  

John and Hal had both signed to help pass out presents to the families in need, as they did every year. The two were making the final handouts, Christmas morning only a few hours away.

  

"It's not trouble ma'am," smiled Hal as he handed another wrapped toy to another woman. His head turned over to John, the smile still on his face. "Wonder why the boyscout signed to 'Nimball Toy Co.'?"

  

"You think he signed to it?" John asked, wrapping the next gift, ready for another family to arrive. "I assumed someone just made the toy and he didn't attest."

  

"Huh, could be," Hall shrugged, looking down to the toy in his hands. His head tilted as he watched its eyes light up red. "Hey, these aren't supposed to have any type of effects, right?"

  

"Merry Christmas," John greeted, handing over another gift. "Nope, no batteries."

  

Hal looked back at the toy, his eyes growing in realization. "John, break the toys!"

  

"Huh?"

  

The sudden blast of red energy ripped through the packaging of the figure, knocking Hal backwards.

  

John's ring instantly lit up, his suit forming over his body. "What the hell!?"

  

A beam of green shot out from behind the table, piercing the toy, disabling it. Hal stood, now in full costume as well. "That's definitely not child safe."

  

John took cautious steps forward, kneeling to pick up the broken toy.

  

"Killer Superman toy?" he asked, turning to Hal.

  

Hal nodded, "Looks like we get to go pay the big guy a visit."

  

-^- Present Time -^-

  

"So only one of the toys activated?" asked Clark, rubbing his chin. "Must mean that they are manually activated."

  

"It would make sense," agreed John, nodding his head. "The ones we had were a donation, probably from here. Maybe the range messed with the activation."

  

"Possibly… but either way, I'm glad I have you two here," Clark responded, a smile on his face.

  

"Don't mention it, big guy," dismissed Hal, parting him on the shoulder.

  

"You're g-g-going to neeeeed all the he-lp you c-c-can get…"

  

The three heroes all turned, staring down at the malfunctioning robot.

  

"That was Toyman," Clark confirmed, looking at the two Lanterns. "That means he's-"

  

Suddenly, the ground shook, all three of them turning to the epicenter of the sound. Rounding the corner of the street was a massive robot Superman, it's design resembling the toy figures. It's hand wrapped around a nearby billboard, ripping it off and tossing it at the cop cars below.

  

Clark instantly bursted towards the car, catching the billboard before it could flatten the officers inside.

  

"Get out of here, officers," commanded Clark, the cops turning and leaving the area as fast as they could.

  

The robot, finishing it's motion, slammed it's foot down onto the billboard, sending Clark deep into the pavement.

  

Both Hal and John flew into the air, the two taking off in opposite directions. With Hal on the right flank, he began launching a barrage of candy cane shaped missiles at the robot.

  

"Quit trying to ruin Christmas just because kids wanted a ps3 over a yo-yo," shouted the brunet, dodging a swipe from it's giant hand.

  

As the robot swung again, its arm was grabbed by John's chain construct, restricting it from movement. The robot's head swivelled; it's head now faced John with glowing red eyes.

  

Before it could fire, it's body began to tilt backwards, off balance. On the ground, Clark began to lift the foot of the mechanical monster, slowly causing the machine to tip back.

  

Before it could fall, the robot's soles and hands began to emit large bursts of exhaust, the body slowly beginning to rise.

  

"It's trying to get away," called John, his chain constructs breaking away.

  

"Try being the key word," noted Hal, raising his arm.

  

John followed suit, both creating a web of ropes that wrapped around the hands and feet of the robot, holding it in place.

  

"All you, Superman," shouted John, turning his head to the ground.

  

A blue and red whiz flew past the two Lanterns, it's speed matching that of a bullet. The blue soared up the body of the machine, until a crushing impact sounded off. Both Lanterns raised their heads marveling at the now decapitated robot.

  

Above the robot hovered Clark, the head in his hand. "So, who wants to go meet Santa?"

  

-^- Ten Minutes Later -^-

  

"So this is the spot?" asked John, his ring being used as a makeshift flashlight.

  

"Yep, the robot was programmed to come back here," replied Hal, his ring ready for a surprise attack.

  

"This is definitely Winslow's workshop," confirmed Clark, his eyes tracing the various shelves filled with toys and trinkets. "The lead walls are also a dead giveaway."

  

The trio moved throughout the workshop, passing multiple robots designed after Superman, all adorning different wacky costumes and designs. Upon reaching the end of the room, the group stumbled upon a trapdoor.

  

"Well?" asked Hal, looking at Clark.

  

"Nope, still lead," he noted, reaching for the hatch. "You two follow me."

  

The two waited for Clark to drop in, before they followed suit. Upon entering, the two saw the workbench of Toyman, along with the man himself.

  

"Toyman," Clark greeted, stepping forwards toward the man.

  

"Ah, Superman," the man sighed, placing his chin on his hand. "Come to play a game?" His eyes trailed to the two behind him, a small smile appearing on his face. "Oh, you brought friends? I'm sure a good board game would be fun this Christmas Eve."

  

As Clark got closer, he stopped in place, eying down Toyman. "No more games, Winslow," he announced, raising his hand to the side, catching what seemed to be a fist.

  

Both John and Hal turned their heads, eyes widening at the sight. Stepping out of the shadows of the room was a seven-foot tall, lengthy machine, dressed in a yellow and black jester suit; its wood-like paint job and proportions giving it a puppet-like appearance.

  

"Ugh, Jack has gotten so predictable these days," groaned Schott, a frustrated frown on his face. As he looked back up to the trio, his smile returned. "Good thing he was on the Nice-List this year."

  

Clark raised an eyebrow, his head turning back to the puppet. His eyes widened as it opened its mouth, a green glow emitting from the hole.

  

"Kryptonite!?" Clark gasped, letting go of the fist and backing up. The robot immediately jabbed at the man, sending him to the floor.

  

"Metallo had such an amazing play feature," cackled the ginger, now standing on his chair. "I just knew Jack needed the same."

  

The puppet marched forward, ready to strike once more before a green wall separated the two.

  

"John, help Superman," called Hal, John nodding and rushing to the man on the ground.

  

Hal eyed the puppet, it's glowing white eyes staring back. The puppet launched forward, Hal narrowly creating a shield to block the attack. The puppet doesn't relent, bringing it's fists up and slamming them down against the construct.

  

Hal held the shield, noticing it slowly form cracks along the impact point. His eyes caught wind of the joints of the machine, noticing how open they were to match the puppet design. As the mechanism swung, Hal ducked under it, creating a power drill to unscrew the elbow. As the machine recovered, it's right forearm fell off, now detached from it's bicep.

  

"Sorry, Jacky," spoke Hal, creating a second power drill construct, "but playtime is over."

  

John knelt down next to Clark, checking for any external wounds. Clark batted his hand away, pointing to the glow of Jack's mouth.

  

John looked between the two, aiming his ring and creating a barrier around the hero.

  

Clark immediately began to regain his strength, now behind the protective barrier of John. Coming to a stand, his eyes met Schott's.

  

Schott quickly reached under his desk, pulling out some type of Nerf gun. "Not this time, Superman!" shouted the man, launching multiple Kryptonite darts at Clark.

  

Clark stood firm, the darts bouncing off the protective barrier around his body. Schott glanced over to Jack, now in pieces on the floor, Hal holding the piece of Kryptonite in a bubble.

  

"Oh, Bah Humbug."

  

-^-^-

  

"Dad! Dad! Wake up dad!"

  

Clark's eyes slowly opened, his vision filled with his son leaping on the bed in excitement.

  

"C'mon dad!" Shouted the boy, continuing to bounce up and down. "Get up, hurry!"

  

"I’m up Jon," the man responded, his voice still groggy as he rubs his eyes.

  

"Hurry, dad! It’s christmas!" he yells out as he jumps from the bed to the door, bolting into the hallway.

  

Clark's eyes, now free of sleep, meet those of his wife standing in the doorway, holding two mugs in her hands. Her own bed head makes him smile as he sits up.

  

"That boy will never get tired unless it’s convenient, I swear," she sighs out, handing one of the mugs to Clark; hot chocolate.

  

"Thank you, honey," says the man, blowing some of the steam away.

  

"So, Green Lanterns, huh?" she asks, a slight smirk on her face.

  

"How did you-"

  

"Clark, you weren’t being subtle when fighting a giant robot of you," she states bluntly, taking a sip of her own cocoa. "In fact, I don’t think it’s even possible to be subtle in that regard.

  

"Also, the media has been going nuts all night regarding Super-Santa and his Elf Lanterns, so…"

  

The man chuckled into his mug, "It just kinda happened, but I'm glad they showed up when they did." Clark took a moment to think back in the night before, the help from the two saving him from the kryptonite weaponry that Schott had installed.

  

"By the way, what made you get up so-"

  

"Mama! Dad!"

  

Clark looked up to Lois, who was smirking as if she knew what he was screaming about. The two left the bedroom to see the boy in his Flash pajamas knelt in front of some kind of kennel.

  

"What is that mama?" he asks, pointing to the kennel.

  

"Well," started Lois, kneeling down next to the boy. "That is something that I know you’ve been wanting for some time now, so I may have written an extra letter to the North Pole…"

  

He looked back to the kennel then his eyes flew back to his parents, widening in realization. His arm opened the kennel's door to reveal a small orange kitten with bright emerald eyes.

  

"A kitty!" he exclaimed before grabbing and hugging the kitten.

  

Clark's own eyes widened a bit, looking over to Lois a whispering, "A cat?"

  

"Jon had said he felt sad when he saw a litter of kittens at an adoption display a while back," she explained, looking at the boy petting the kitten. "I thought that since he's been good this year, why not get him a pet."

  

Clark smiled, watching his son run around the tree with the highly energetic kitten. "I think it’s a good idea to get him someone to play with," he says, turning back to her. "He is a bit young though."

  

"Huh, if old Smallville isn't one very handsome pot to call the kettle black?" she asks, placing a hand on her hip. "If I recall, you were already tending to cows and pigs at his age."

  

The man chuckles slightly, "Alright, you got me with that one."

  

"I know I did," she responds, kneeling down next to Jon once more. "Now Jon, you need to make sure to be careful with him, having a pet is a lot of responsibility."

  

"I know mama," he responds before smiling. "I'll do my bestest." Lois responds with a smile and small cheek pinch.

  

"That just leaves one more thing," Clark asks, gaining both of their attention. "What are you gonna name him?"

  

Jon gasps, as if he forgot all about that. His gaze settled on the cat, which hadn't stopped running around yet. His eyes finally looked back to the parents with a smile on his face.

  

"Streaky!"

Cladding deterioration on a city tower block.

IMG_0320 SOOC

 

I recommend clicking on the expansion arrows icon (top right corner) to go into the Lightbox for maximum effect.

Don't use or reproduce this image on Websites/Blog or any other media without my explicit permission.

© All Rights Reserved - Jim Goodyear 2015.

 

Sign the Petition to Bring old Flickr back and get your friends to sign!

 

petitions.moveon.org/sign/change-flickr-back

 

Trying to reach 15,000 signatures so we can have someone hand deliver the petition to Yahoo's CEO.