The Cat and the Cream
Hello again –
I’m sorry I haven’t been around for a while, but I have spent a fair amount of
time over the last couple of months in the US, both for business and for
pleasure, and my assistants have been on charge here.
The thing
about long flights is they give you time to think and reflect, and in my case
it brought to mind some of the most satisfying visits I made in my previous
career – and not necessarily in terms of material gain either.
For example,
in the early 70’s I got into a house up in Pinner, with the intention of
helping myself to some fine pieces. I
got in through the back door, and was pleased to see there was nobody
downstairs, but as I walked up I could hear someone talking in one of the
bedrooms.
Looking
through a crack in the door, I could see a woman in her early fifties sitting
on a bed, wearing a purple sleeveless top and white Capri pants, with a pair of
white sandals on her feet. Sitting
either side of her were two young children, wearing yellow one piece sleep
suits and smiling as she read them a bedtime story.
I watched and
listened for a few minutes, as she read the Dr Seuss tale, and then walked
quietly past and into the master bedroom – where I spent a very productive and
pleasant few minutes finding her jewellery boxes and placing the contents in my
pockets.
I stepped out
of the room again, and then made my way along and down the stairs. The woman had stopped talking, and I resumed
she was in the bedroom still, waiting until the children had fallen asleep.
Well, I was
half right – the children had fallen asleep.
The wrong part was assuming she was in the bedroom – she was, in fact,
sitting on a metal and leather seat in the living room, which the staircase
went down into, watching television.
So naturally,
she turned and saw me as I got to the bottom of the stairs, and looked at
me. “Good evening,” I remember saying
quietly, “I’m very sorry to say that I just robbed you, and now I need to make
sure I can get away.”
“Oh,” she
said as she looked at me, “and you did this while I was putting my
grandchildren to bed?”
“You don’t
look old enough to have grandchildren,” I said with a smile.
“Flatterer,”
she replied, also smiling, before she said “and how do you propose to stop me raising
the alarm?”
“With this,”
I said as I took a roll of white tape from my pocket, “please, place your arms
on the chair arms.”
As I said, it
was a metal chair with leather seat and back, so as she put her arms on the
metal armrests I taped them into place at the wrists and elbows, and then knelt
down before taping her ankles tightly together, as well as her legs below and
above her knees.
“Now,” I said
as I looked at her, “put your lips together for me.”
As she did
that, I tore off a strip of tape and pressed it down gently over her mouth,
with two more strips on top, one slightly below and one slightly above. Smiling, I wished her a good night, and left her
watching the Play for Today.
In fact, I
can tell you the exact date – November 1977.
How do I know? The television
play was Abigail’s Party...
A couple of
years before that, I was walking in Hendon when I saw a young woman almost hit
by a car as it sped along the main road.
As it was, she was forced to fall onto the pavement, and as I ran over
to help her I realised she had twisted her ankle.
“Ow,” was
exactly what she said when she tried to stand on it, so I asked her where she
lived. She indicated a nearby flat, so
being a gentleman I escorted her to her home.
She was wearing a black leather jacket over a blue jumper, a black and
white tartan short skirt, white tights and black and white Daneskin shoes.
Anyway, I
helped her up the stairs, and into her flat, helping her to sit on a couch and
putting her leg up while I went to see if she had some ice in her refrigerator. When I came back, she had removed her shoes
and tights, and sighed as I put the tea towel wrapped around the ice cubes on
her ankle.
“I don’t
think it’s a sprain even, just a bad bruise,” I said as I looked at it, and
then put the cloth back.
“Yeah – feels
that way,” she said as she looked at me.
“Why don’t you fix us both some tea?”
As I went to
the kitchen and put the kettle on, I noticed on a shelf in the front room a
very nice bronze, which even at that time I knew was worth a fair amount. As I brought the cups through a few minutes
later, I said “nice statuette” as I handed her a cup.
“That
monstrosity? I hate it – but it’s a gift
from my grandmother, and she expects to see it there.”
“Oh it’s not
that bad,” I said as I looked at it, “Early Georgian, a little garish perhaps,
but still.”
“You know
something of art?”
“A little –
why?”
“Do you want
it?”
I looked at
her, and sat down, sipping my tea before I said “Your grandmother would be
upset with you if you sold it.”
“So steal it
– I could say someone broke in, made sure I could not stop him taking my purse,
and he took that as well.”
“Oh,” I said
quietly, “and how would he do that?”
“He’d have to
tie me up,” she said as she looked at me, “like on the telly. You know, wrists and ankles and something
over my mouth.”
“Even with a
sore ankle?”
She laughed
at that, and moved it a little. “I think
you’re right – it’s bruised, not sprained or broken. If you want to, you can be the robber – think
of it as a reward for your chivalry.”
“Well, if you
want to play that game – do you have any rope or something?”
“There’s a
ball of string in that drawer over there – use that.”
I put my cup
down, walked over to the drawer and found the string, and then put the young
lady’s hands together in front of her as if she was praying, before I tied the
string around and between her wrists. I
then took it down and tied her ankles together, before bringing it back up,
cutting the string with some scissors, and tying it off.
Going to the
kitchen, I found a clean dish towel and said “Open your mouth please.”
“Fnkuuuelltt,”
she said as I pulled the towel between her lips, and tied it off, before taking
some money from her purse and the statue, and leaving her to try and get free.
That’s the
statue over there, in fact – I never got rid of it.
I also got
great satisfaction at times from the discussions I had with those unfortunate
enough to be at home when I called.
About a year before that first story, I was in Golders’ Green, having
been told by a colleague about a jeweller who was storing a collection of gems
in his home.
Now, this was
one of those places where I knew I may have to break in while someone was
around, but I chose during the day to minimise the chances of the man about the
house been home. I also used this as one
of those rare occasions I wore a balaclava mask, again just in case.
Getting in
was simple – I climbed onto a low roof outside an upstairs window, opened it
with a penknife, and got in. It turned
out to be a young girl’s bedroom, judging by the books on the bookshelf, the
stack of Jackie magazines on the floor – and the clothes hanging in the open
wardrobe.
There was one
other clue that gave it away – the eighteen year old, dark haired girl, wearing
a blue sleeveless tank top over a roll neck yellow jumper, red and black
striped skirt, and blue tights who walked into the door ten seconds after I had
got in. Now, I deplore physical violence
and threats as a rule, but the last thing I needed was a house in uproar, so I
walked quickly over, put my hand over her mouth as I closed the door, and said
“Not a word, all right?”
She nodded as
I looked round, and said “Who else is in the house?”
“Rebecca? Where are you?”
I pulled
Rebecca back with me as what looked like her twin came in, wearing a dress with
light brown flecks on white, a white wing collar and thin belt, and a white
jumper underneath with white socks on her legs, came in. She looked at me, and gasped as I said “Close
the door, then I need you both to kneel in front of this bed for a few
minutes.”
“Is he
robbing the house,” she said as Rebecca knelt next to her.
“I think he
is, Miriam,” the other girl replied as I took two lengths of cord from my
pocket, and used them to secure the wrists of both girls behind their
backs.
“Don’t worry,
I’m not going to hurt you,” I said as I helped them to stand up, “I just need
to know who else is at home?”
“Mother is
downstairs,” Miriam said, “we were about to start planning Isaac’s Bar
Mitzvah.”
“Your younger
brother?”
“Yes – he and
father are with the Rabbi now.”
“Then let us
go and invite your mother to start the conversation, while I find what I came
here for,” I said as I walked behind both the girls, out of the room, down the
stairs and into the front room. As they
sat side by side, I took more lengths of cord and secured their ankles
together, and then went into the kitchen.
Their mother
was wearing a yellow and black tartan jacket over a yellow checked blouse and
dark blue pants – and a look of surprise when she saw me, and I told her that
her daughters were already tied hand and foot, and she was going to join them.
Which is what
she did – I bound her wrists, took her through to join them, and bound her
ankles, before I located and started to open the safe, while they did indeed
discuss the requirements for the Bar Mitzvah.
It was a fascinating discussion, and I learned a lot, even as I earned a
lot.
Sorry –
really bad pun. Anyway, before I left I
pressed length of brown sticking plaster over their mouths, wished them well,
and got out as quickly as I could.
Then there
are the times when I help save someone from doing something incredibly stupid. I was already semi-retired by then, but still
paid occasional visits, and this night I was walking as quietly as possible
along a fire escape in Hampstead, before opening the window of one particular
flat.
All seemed
quiet, and as I looked round I soon found the jewels of the flat owner, and was
about to leave when I heard a noise from the front room.
Going into
the lit corridor, I walked slowly along, and saw a young dark haired woman
lying on the ground. She had some rope
holding her wrists together behind her back, and was wearing a shift dress with
different colours of cloth in a diamond pattern, dark tights and grey knee
length boots.
I could also
see white rope around her ankles and her knees, but her breathing was a bit
ragged – and as I walked over and turned her over, I could see why. Her eyes were wide open and fearful, but not
because of me.
I got her on
her knees and took what was in her mouth out, waiting as she took several deep
breaths and then said “thank you – I accidentally...”
“Look, not my
business,” I said, “but never, EVER try something like that without someone
else around. Understood?”
She then
looked at me again, and I recognised her – a young model who had appeared at
the London Fashion Week a few days before.
“Why?”
“I don’t know
– trying to feel a thrill,” she said quietly.
“Well, like I
say, don’t do that again – and yes, I’m stealing your jewels. I’ll call the police when I have a chance to
get away.”
She nodded
and then said “can you stop me talking?”
“Not like
that I won’t – got a scarf?”
So I used a
pink wool scarf as a cleave gag, got out, and called the police half an hour
later.
And then you
get the just plain funny – for which we go back to the mid-seventies, and the
Angel Twins.
They had
appeared in a number of commercials in the UK – in the US, you had the
Doublemint Twins, here we had the Angel Twins.
Both in their early twenties, big hair, cute looking – you know, faces
that could sell just about anything.
So this was a
Friday night, and I had got into their home in Esher – nice, quiet,
commuterville Esher. The house was in
darkness, and I soon had managed to open their safe, collect their valuables,
and was in the process of searching the upstairs rooms when I heard their front
door open and close.
I was dressed
well – grey zipped jacket and slacks, black jumper underneath, Chelsea boots,
and a winning smile. So I walked onto
the hallway, and could hear the two women downstairs – and I was never so glad
of the fact I had closed the safe door and replaced the picture over it.
On the other
hand, I needed to be able to get away – and that would mean securing them. I had a bag with me containing some ropes and
things, so I picked it up and slowly walked downstairs, and then into the front
room, saying “good evening ladies – please, don’t make a noise, but I’m robbing
you?”
“Are you,”
one of them said as she looked at me.
She was wearing a long sleeved red blouse, the ends of which were tied
under her chest, and – I kid you not – a pair of crocheted shorts, black on her
left and white on her right.
Fortunately, her modesty was preserved by the black dancer’s tights she
had on underneath, with a pair of stack heeled red suede over the knee boots on
top of them.
“Why yes, I
am, so please do as I say and we’ll all get along just fine,” I replied as I
looked at her twin sister. She was
wearing an ethnic print blouse under a long sleeveless knitted jacket, pale
blue in colour, and a matching pair of culottes. She had an ethnic belt around the waist of
the pants, dark tights and black suede over the knee boots.
“A
robbery? Well, this is different,” the
other sister said as she stood up, “so are you going to tie us up mister
robber?”
“Yes I am –
would the two of you like to be together?”
“Any not –
makes it easier to escape,” the one in the ridiculous shorts said.
“Not the way
I’m going to do it – sit on the floor, back to back, and link arms with each
other.”
Which is what
they did – after which I tied their wrists together in front of their waists,
and then for each of the twins I crossed and tied their ankles tightly
together, then tied their legs together below their knees and on top of their
boots, before taking a length of rope from their wrists to their knees.
“Okay – maybe
we can’t free each other,” they both said as I used a longer length of rope to bind
their upper arms to their sides, and then took two silk scarves from my bag,
and used them as cleave gags.
“Have fun
trying to,” I said quietly as I left them to struggle, and got away...
One last
memory from that time – I was in this shop, under different ownership at the
time, when a young woman walked in, wearing a long sleeved white dress, with a
short skirt and black trim, a large black hat, black suede boots and a matching
handbag.
“Good
morning,” the owner said as I looked round, “how may I help you today?”
“I have
something which I need an evaluation on,” the blonde haired woman said as she
put a black box on the counter, and the man opened it, taking out a gold
necklace with an emerald pendant attached to it. He looked at it, asked a few questions, and
then wrote down a quote while asking for the young woman’s address.
She was local
– a mile or so further out of town – so as she finished her business, I went
ahead of her and started mine. After
all, the early worm and all that...
Getting into
her house was simplicity it self – she had left a small window open at the
front, and the house was shielded from the road by trees and a wall, so I put
my arm through, opened the other larger window and got in. It was a very nice house, and very well
furnished, so I started to search for any other valuables.
I had a clear
half hour start, and was about to leave by the front door when it opened and
she appeared in front of me, looking at me as I stood there.
“Ah –
unfortunate,” I said as I took her by the arm, pulled her gently into the house
and closed the door, “now I have to stop you from raising the alarm while I
make my getaway.”
“Oh goody.”
Not, I have
to confess, the response I was expecting, as I looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said Goody
– I want to be held captive by a cat burglar, and you are most definitely a
very handsome one. Didn’t I see you in
Arkwright’s?”
“I won’t tell
if you won’t,” I said, intrigued by this.
“So how would you like to be stopped?”
“Look in that
cupboard on your left – you can use the belts from the coats hanging up in there.”
Looking in,
there was indeed a selection of Gabardines and other raincoats, so I took a few
of the belts from them, escorted the young lady into the front room and allowed
her to place her hat on a table, and then used one belt to tie her wrists together,
another around her stomach and arms, a third around her ankles and a fourth
around her thighs, below the hem of the skirt as she lay on the Ottoman.
“Very nice,”
she said with a smile, “now keep me quiet.”
I went back
to the coat cupboard, and took a large green scarf with white checks. Rolling that into a band, she smiled as I
pulled it between her lips, and tied it round her head.
“One more
thing,” I said as I picked up the black box, which she had placed next to her
hat, and put it in with the rest of the things I had found, before kissing her
on the forehead and getting out of the house.
Ah such memories of the best of times – and the times I was of help to others. On which note, let me help you to some more tea...
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