The Go-Go
Cat
Yes, I had
noticed the re-emergence of the straight boot in the fashionably dressed. It does bring back memories of when I was
training and setting out in this business – including a time I was with my
mentor and we had to secure the young lady living in the house we were
visiting.
I had been
working with him for a few months by then, and had progressed to the stage of
been able to be left alone to ensure anyone we came across did not
interrupt. So when we paid a visit to a
manor house on the outskirts of Nottingham, I was watching in the main room as
he searched upstairs. For a moment, I
looked round, and there was a picture of a young woman with long auburn hair,
wearing a pink leather waistcoat and hot pants, a long sleeved white blouse and
white go-go boots standing next to a car with a Texas number plate.
So you can
imagine my surprise when the door opened, and said young lady walked in – I
hadn’t even heard the front door open and close, but I knew I was going to be
in trouble if I didn’t do something to stop her raising the alarm.
So I literally
ran across the room and grabbed her, putting my gloved hand over her mouth
before she even had a chance to scream.
Oh my, she struggled, but I stayed calm, and held her as I quietly told
her to calm down, I was not wanting to hurt her, but she would get hurt if she
kept going in this way.
It took a while
– and I was actually more worried about what my mentor was going to say – but
she eventually agreed, and as I took my hand away I asked her why she was
home. Turned out the film she had going
to see was not showing – so she came back, and found us.
But that then
raised the obvious question – what was I going to do to stop her raising the
alarm? Looking round, I saw a knitting
basket, so I told her to lie down on a red leather chaise longue which was in
the room, and to put her hands together in prayer. She nodded and asked what I was going to do
as she walked over, lying down and adjusting her waistcoat before she put her
hands together.
I smiled and
said I was going to make it difficult for her to move, then took a ball of blue
wool from the basket and using it to secure her wrists tightly together, making
sure I took the wool around and between her arms. Her blouse was tight to her arms below the
elbows, so I made sure the binding stayed on top of the white material. I then pet her put her hands on her lap, and
wound the wool out a little before I crossed her ankles and secured them
together as well. I then played the wool
back up and tied it between her wrists again, before I cu tit loose with
scissors – and then put the scissors well out of her reach.
The question
than, of course, was how to keep her quiet – but I heard footsteps then, so I
told her to be quiet as I put my hand over her mouth, and looked to the
door. When my mentor walked in, he was
surprised – as was she – but he walked over and checked the knots, then said
I’d done a good job before he left the room for a minute, and came back with a
roll of brown sticking plaster. He tore
a strip off, told her to smile, and then stuck the plaster over her lips before
he nodded to show I should leave with him.
I did glance
back at her as she twisted round, the pink leather of her clothes squeaking as
it rubbed on the red leather pf the seat, and her muffled moans reaching my
ears…
A few years
later, after I had ‘graduated’ I was looking round a flat in Gosforth, a lovely
town north of Newcastle, when I heard the front door opening and closing down
the stairs. I was dressed casually, but
I put on a pair of sunglasses to cover my eyes, found something in my pocket I
felt I may have need of, picked up my holdall which had the jewels I had found
amongst the other contents, and slowly walked down the stairs.
I could see the
door to the front room was open, and as I stepped inside I saw a woman, about
my height, standing there in a blue dress, with short sleeves and a wide
collar, dark tights and a pair of black lace-up shoes. Her light brown hair was cut short, but the
way she looked at me as I showed her the gun in my hand was all I needed to
see.
And on, it was
not a real gun – but it had the desired effect, as I heard footsteps and I put
my finger to my lips to indicate she should be quiet. She nodded and then looked to the door as a
strawberry blonde walked in, the skirt of her grey and white print coat dress
swaying as she did so, the heels of her knee length tight bronze leather boots
clumping on the wooden floor.
“What’s up,”
she said as she looked at her friend – and then she turned and saw me, raising
her hands as I told them they would not be hurt, if they did what I said.
Well, I was
fortunate in that they both agreed, so I told them both to kneel down in front
of the wooden couch in the room, and lean forward with their hands behind their
backs. As they did this, I put my bag
down where they could see it – as well as the gun – and took from the bag some
pre-cur lengths of white washing line, which I used to secure their wrists
together behind their backs.
I then put
their ankles together and bound them with two more lengths of rope – in the
case of the second girl, the rope rubbing on the leather making that soft
squeaking sound, but they were too busy trying to tell each other to be brave
to take much notice of that. Once I had
their wrists and ankles secured, I told them both to sit on the floor – which
they managed to do – and then I adjusted the skirts of their dresses to protect
their modesty before I used two white scarves I had in my bag as simple, but
mildly effective cleave gags.
Effective
enough that, combined with the fear I could see was still in their eyes, I had
time to get away before anyone heard their calls for help…
As I became
more experienced, I lost the gun – I found that remaining calm but firm still had
the desired result. But from time to
time I found I was visiting those who liked to dress like they had as a younger
woman.
Case in point –
this was in 1983, and I had broken into a flat in South London, which belonged
to a girl I had found out worked as a dancer in the West End – thus meaning she
should not have been home before midnight, I had more than enough time to get
in and out.
That at least
was the plan – a good plan by most accounts.
But not on this night. I had only
just got in, and was searching through the drawers in her bedroom, when she
walked in, looking as if she had been a backing dancer for Lulu some years
before.
She was wearing
a classic paisley patterned mini dress, in blue and green with a round collar
and white knee length go-go boots made from white PVC with zippers up the
back.
Well, it was an
awkward moment as she looked at me, and I looked at her, and then she sighed as
she said something about not again, and at least her insurance was up to
date. I nodded, and apologised for the
fact she was bene robbed again – but I also needed to ensure she was kept out of
the way. The drawer I had opened had a
selection of long chiffon scarves inside it, and she had an old fashioned bed
with a rounded metal headstand and a straight metal grille at the foot, so I
told her to lie on her back on the bed, and to hold the headboard with her
hands.
She smiled, and
said it was a change for someone to say please, as she I selected two light blue
scarves, and then used them to tie her wrists to the headboard so that her arms
were stretched out to the sides. I then
took two black ones and tied her ankles to the foot of the bed as well, not stretching
them out as much, but enough.
She twisted
round as we talked, and she agreed to tell me where her jewels were – nice
pieces as well, but some were of sentimental value to her, so they stayed. When the time came, however, I needed her to
be quiet, so one more scarf – a red one – was folded and pushed into her
mouth. I didn’t do anything else – I
wanted her to have the chance, when she was ready, to call for help, but she
didn’t try to push it out until long after I had left.
How do I
know? I read her story in the News of
the World – I was the Gentlemen Robber in that article. Hope my protégé never finds out…
All of us ‘old
lags’ have the stewardess story. So this
is mine – it’s a short story, but it does fit in with the theme of these tales.
The house was
in Birmingham, and when I managed to get in it was early evening. Three women lived in the house – all of them
working for a European airline – so I took my time, selecting only the very
best items they had.
So I was about
to leave, and as I walked down the front door opened, and said three
stewardesses walked in. but they were
not in their usual outfits, but instead in a seventies throwback outfit – grey
double breasted coats over beige mini-dresses, and white knee length boots as
well as matching kid leather gloves.
Well, I looked
at them, said good evening and asked if they would allow me to pass, but one of
them asked if ‘I had just robbed them.
When I said I had, they asked me if I had ever seen a film where a man
held some stewardesses hostage.
I had – but I
told them I was not like that man, then watched as they looked at each other
before the one who had spoken said good.
But they wanted to be hostages – and would I help with that, make sure
they could not raise the alarm?
Well, a
gentleman never refuses a request, so I asked if they had any rope in the
house. When she said yes, I said she had
to go and get it – and remember, I had her friends as my captives. They actually giggled as I said that, before
she walked off, the other two removing their coats before she returned with
some wrapped coils of brown rope for washing lines, and a pair of kitchen
scissors.
So I told her
to cut two lengths off of about ten foot, and hand them to me, then stand with
her hands on her head. She watched as I
tied the wrists of her two housemates behind their backs, making sure I took
the rope around and between their arms, and then told her to put her own hands
behind her back, as I cut another length of rope off and tied her wrists
together as well.
I then told
them to walk up to one of their bedrooms, following them up as they went into a
room. I then told them all to sit on the
floor and cross their ankles, all three watching as I cut three more lengths of
rope and then tied their ankles together in the same way as I had tied their
wrists. I also secured their legs
together with more lengths of rope, before helping them one by one to lie on
their stomachs, pulling their ankles back and tying them to their wrists. It’s not the most comfortable way to bind
someone, but it was in line with what they wanted as I did that.
I then made my
way to the bathroom and found a roll of white medical tape, bringing it back
and putting a strip over each of their mouths, listening to them trying to talk
and watching as they wriggled round, then leaving when I was sure they would be
all right…
I recently had
to do a home security visit for a young wife in the country nearby, and she
wanted a ‘practical demonstration’ of what might happen if someone broke in. I do that service now as well, and as I
arrived she came and stood in the door of the manor house. She was dressed in a classical style – a
mustard coloured dress with short sleeves, a gathered waist and a collar that
would not have looked out of place in a classic Yves St Laurent show, dark
tights, and knee length brown leather boots with two large buckles on the side
and a real seventies style block heel.
At any rate, I
did the security assessment, and as we talked over it she served coffee. In the main, she was happy with my
suggestions, and we signed off on them – and then she asked if I would do the
practical demonstration. Given the
location, and the way she was dressed, I offered to show her how a mannerly
burglar would make sure she could not raise the alarm. She agreed to that, so I went to my car and
got the supplies I needed.
Coming back in,
we went to the dining room and I asked her to sit down on a chair I pulled away
from the table. As she did so, that
finishing school training came in, and she sat with her ankles together and to
one side.
I took a length
of soft white rope from my bag, and walked behind her, talking all the time as
I took her arms around the chair back and tied her wrists together, then
secured them to the central spar of the chair back. She tried to move her wrists, and nodded as I
took longer ropes, and tied them round her waist to hold it against the chair
back, then round her upper arms to make sure they were fixed to her sides.
Walking round,
I knelt down and bound her ankles together with more rope, and then secured
them to a front leg of the chair, before I secured her legs together below her knees
as well. I then asked her how she felt,
and she replied she felt as if a robber had tied her to a chair. But he had done it without hurting her.
I reminded her
I was a mannered intruder, as she wriggled round, and I returned to the bag of
supplies, taking out a blue silk square and folding it into a pad before I said
she had to be quiet now, so she needed to open her mouth. When she did so, I pushed the folded scarf
in, telling her to just let it sit on her tongue and close her lips. I then took a wide roll of micropore tape,
tore a long strip off, and pressed it firmly over her lips and jaw so that I
could see the shape of her smile underneath.
I sat and
talked with her for a while, before I untied her – but she did wonder if her husband
would do it for her as well…
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