Never one for early
retirement and certainly not one for letting something as trivial as a prison
sentence get in her way, Lady C was
ready to pounce back into the underworld of daylight robbery as the notorious
lucky cat, the world’s most renowned, famous and rather beautiful jewel thief,
but considering it had been all of those things that had contributed in her
failure to remain anonymous, she would pounce under a completely different
name.
It hadn’t been her choice to adopt the name of the
lucky cat. She had acquired it quite by accident some 10 or so years ago when
she had first become notoriously famous after stealing King Athelstan’s solid gold
cup worth 18 million pounds from the international gallery in London and flying
a bus to another planet with an alien man known only as The Doctor. The police
had nick named her after she had left her calling card, a small statue of the Maneki
Neko aka the Japanese lucky cat, in place of Athelstan’s cup and the press had
picked up on the name and had a field day plastering everywhere for all to see.
Coming up with something else just as
catchy that would make her infamous as well as keeping her anonymous was going
to take some thought.
She wished Cook were here to help her, he
often although not very, had a few good ideas and would have at least made her
laugh as he always could. She sighed heavily, her sigh of loneliness echoing
around the de Souza manor to signify her solitude. It was going to take some
getting used to living here alone now, especially as before her incarceration
there had been at least 8 or 9 friends and family living with her at some
point. She wondered where they all were,
why none of them had visited her in prison and why none of them called now she
was out especially after she had been photographed and tagged arriving at the royal
wedding reception in Hello magazine. They all knew she was here yet none of
them seemed to care. She even missed clip clop, a shabby knackered flea ridden
old pony that belonged to Hugo, the slightly knackered flea ridden stable hand
who was John Cook’s cousin. If prison had taught her anything it was never turn
your back in the showers, and never reveal your identity or intentions to
anyone. Trust no-one, not even yourself! – Especially after raiding the large
stock of gin in the cellar.
Bits of scrap paper adorned the kitchen
floor. 2 hours after she had started Lady C still couldn’t come up with
anything conspicuous yet catchy and she had mused over everything from Black
Beauty as she wore a black cat suit and was rather beautiful, to Lady Cyanide
so she could keep the Lady C option yet maintain an air of mystery and mayhem. Sadly,
nothing really gave her the same excitement in the pit of her stomach feeling
that the lucky cat had, but she summarised that it was because someone else had
taken the time to look at her and her work in detail and do it for her, much
like how her nickname Lady C had come about. An old friend from way back, the alien man
known only as The Doctor, couldn’t be bothered to keep calling her Lady Christina
so he had shortened it to Lady C to save time, but she liked that, it humanised
her from the mechanical world of her childhood that had stripped her of her
true identity just to force her to live up to her title.
Another 25 minutes passed, and the phone
rang. It was a gangster known only as The Parasite, probably because like fleas
and ticks he got on everyone’s nerves, and he was calling to make a deal on Queen
Mary’s diamond bandeau which contained diamonds dating back to 1839, the tiara
she had stolen a few weeks ago at the royal wedding. The conversation was
strained as always between the two as they had no real time for each other and
they hated doing business with each other purely because she always had what he
wanted, and he always had the money to pay for it. She felt more like his
private dealer than a spur of the moment cat burglar stealing thinks for the
thrill of the high.
“Ah the night bird, or is it jail bird now?
You know why I’m calling I trust? I heard a tweet that the little birdy has
something shiny for her nest that she wants to lose quickly”
He was as slimy sounding
as he probably was in real life, not that she had ever met him, which meant she
had to lay it on thick to get him to agree to a price as this was after all,
her way back.
“Long time no speak, charmed as always to
make your acquaintance and you might be right, but only if the price is”
“I will give you 20 thousand and not a penny
more!”
“You’ll give me 2 million and not a penny
less or you can find someone else to infest, you’re not my only contact, you
know how this works!”
There was a lot of growling and words spoken
in a foreign language that she assumed were of a very blue nature and silence
for a few moments until the disgruntled voice grumbled something about being
robbed himself and then agreed to have a courier sent to her within the hour to
claim his prize and pay her demands.
“You should reconsider the offer I set you
years ago night bird and work for me. We could infest the world together you
and I. Your skills and mine, we could make something magical happen”
She heaved silently, gagging at the thought
of being around someone so incredibly creepy and yet again very graciously
declined his offer of a partnership and hung up before he could contest.
The courier arrived as promised with a case
of notes and she made him wait as she passed each one through a counter scanner
which would show if the money was fake or not, and after what seemed like
hours, she handed him the tiara and took the note from him the parasite had
written for her.
It read simply, “Night bird, one day you
will sing for me.”
This time, instead of
gagging, his words made her smile, not because it was from him or because what
he had written was particularly nice, but because she realised as she screwed
up the note and tossed it in the bin that she finally had her new ID and
someone else had taken the time to do it for her.
The night bird.
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