Games of Aspiration

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The Cat Burglar

30 Years later:

The venue is located in the subbasement of an old Gothic Church located in Wales, is patterned off the olde French Cathedral De Notre Dame, but on a much smaller scale.

The room itself still had paintings hung on its stone wall created by old masters, some actually discovered to be authentic, but at the time of this story, all were still believed to be old reproductions!

The rooms interior furnishings were more modern, the lighting, the newly built bar, couches and seats that lined up along the walls.

The dance floor was just off to one end, by the stage where the orchestra was playing.

The incandescent lights of the ancient venue were this annual spring ball was being held were nicely playing off the figures of the many guests dancing that evening.

Bringing out the sparkles of jewels, the shimmer of fine gowns and the rich shine of stiffly formal men’s attire!

Many comments and compliments were jabberingly being made by the abundance of wealthy guests in attendance observing the lighting, and the way it brought out the sparklingly expensive jewellery that had been brought out of enclosed safes, cleaned by maids, and being majestically worn out by the females that evening!

There however was one young lady there, whose compliments and observations were made for a quite different reason than that of her up-scale fellow guests.

The lady in question is a pretty red-head, enticingly wearing a solid coloured dress of ocean blue satin that fell down along her figure with an eye-catching sleek liquidity. Her diamond earrings (not cleaned by made, and not originally hers) dangled down as she moved her head to talk to the guests, and generally take in all the splendor that encircled her.

However, unlike most of the ladies there, those earrings were her only jewels…

This particular Lass had been meandering on her own, expertly studying the crowd with her sharp piercingly hazel coloured eyes.

She was looking for the tell-tale signs amongst the female guests that she had long ago learned to decipher. Once ferreted out, those females would be added to the list she was mentally making up that evening!

Unmatched, unhappy wives, young unworldly ladies with more money than sense, spinster maidens, and the odd divorcées, to name a few, were sought out, and added onto that list of possibilities.

For this particular red-headed lass in the sleek blue dress, busy compiling that list, was herself a professional Jewel Thief!

Once her list was compiled, she would spend the rest of her evening (besides avoiding the usual blighters offering her the chance to dance) by tailing her various jewel laden ‘Marks’ she had selected.

As she did, she would then try to overhear bits of conversation that would glean the information needed to select one for a future, usually after a midnight, visit to where that particular lady’s jewels were kept.

She had soon cleverly singled her list down to one particular couple.

Whom by their rather stiff interplay, had given the redhead savory food for thought.

They were now dancing, and she was now sitting at the bar, drink in hand, further contemplating over the prospective advantages of selecting them, and the lady’s diamonds, for her next outing as she watched!

The male was a stuffy shirt sort of gent, probably in his late seventies, obviously inheritably wealthy, and rather obviously not happy at being there at all!

He was wearing a newly fitted tux of the sort that was in style, say some 50 years ago.

His wife was at least 30 years younger, a gold digger that anyone with an ounce of sense would recognize as such!

And since gold diggers, by nature, were for the most part conniving little beasts, it could be as simple as robbing a cradle while stealing their jewels! As they were normally far too busy making their devious forthcoming plans to properly be on guard against a bit of well-planned thievery!

This particular sullen specimen was wearing a long-fitted gown that fluidly flowed down her quite slender figure, accentuating every voluptuous private trainer formed curve! Her jewelry was all set with diamonds. A Rather notable collection of sparklers, with a value that would have been able to easily fund a small private bank!

Just before they had gone to the dance floor, the pair had been drinking while sitting at the bar.

Within our thief’s earshot, they had been overheard discussing plans to visit, staying for a fortnight, at friend’s villa in France, leaving in two months’ time from their manor house, aptly named after the moors in Wales that it had been built by!

How remarkable it was, she purred to herself, the amount of information that can be gathered by listening to the loose tongues of the ultra-rich, used to talking while ignoring servants in the same room, and pretty strangers seated nearby!

Then, later, after shadowing them some more, she followed the sulky lady and one of her sly eyed friends into the loo.

There, from a stall, she overheard the gold digger conspiratorially saying, in hushed tones, that a Gent, not surprisingly named Fabian, would also be visiting her in France!

Her friend cooed over this and was sworn to secrecy over the matter.

The red-haired Lass smiles as she listened in from a crack in the stall door. Her hazel coloured eyes were becoming mesmerized by the blazing diamonds that flashed from the gold digger’s wrist as she was doing her make-up at the mirror across the room from the crack in the door of the stall she was in!.

It also didn’t take a bloody genius to know who Fabian was, and what he meant to the lady, and that this trip to France would not be put off because of it!

Sure, as sin, she had found her next job.

Now she thought, the next step would be casing their welsh, moor named family manor house where the gold-digger and her titled husband resided!


Next Up

Chapter 2

The Prowl

Her objective was on the second floor North, through a back staircase that was located on the other side of the room that led onto a stone patio that was straight ahead of her, access gained from a path leading through the small gardens..

An Owl hooted close by, exhibiting its disdain at finding a stranger within its’ realm.

She took it as a signal.

She looked down at the fuzzy black material in her left hand, a black ski mask, well worn.

She smiled as she pulled back and secured her hair, then opened the mask and slipped it over her head, adjusting it so her sharp hazel eyes could see out the eye holes, her mouth free to breath.

She then located and pulled out the thin black silk gloves, and with a business-like manner, slipped them on.

She had already checked that she had her “tools “before leaving the coupe, and now in the moonlit doubled checked inside her small clutch, making sure it still contained the thin rope, stethoscope, wire cutter, cuffs, glue and a few other small odds and ends one always carried that may come in handy.

Her torch and Uncle’s commando dagger were at her waist,

She was ready, the time was ripe.

Stretching up like a cat does from being stationary for far too long, she felt her muscles deliciously relax, ready to pounce.

She turned her attention back to the Manor… No lights had been turned on, none of the servants had come back home for something forgotten…

Silently she moved off along the hedgerow, sneaking up to a small wrought iron garden gate a good 200 yards off.

Nimbly she grasped its ornate top, and jumped over it, landing in a crouch, looking cautiously all about.

She was in!

No turning back now, not that she would have ever dreamed of doing so.

The riches inside the manor, like catnip to a cat, were a far too tempting a lure to resist….

She moved off, soon lost in the swirling mists coming in from a nearby bog.

Stalking carefully up along the path that led to her target, her footsteps, as she made them, were silent as a cats’ pads!


Next Up

Chapter 3

The Burglary

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