Lisette and the Cyber Geeks
by
Brian Sands
The Collector, MOVB
Chapter Twelve:
Don’s Prisoners
" ... and it will put you in good with them."
‘Yers?"
Donald Caisson cradled his mulled wine pensively between slender fingers. He continued, speaking slowly, weighing every word.
"One reason why I dropped the idea - apart from events moving too fast to allow us to put it into action - was that on second thoughts it was too dangerous. If we do it now, we shall have to take more precautions than I was able to think of at the time."
Lisette agreed, responding in the same measured tones. "To try to see as many angles, as many scenarios as possible? ... I can think of one already, and it’s called Doc ... That’s two if you include the Kidd fellow, but I was thinking of the other kid."
"I don’t think he will be giving us any trouble," said Donald grimly. "When I turned him and his room over, I put the wind up him. Told him to lie low or else I’d put one of my friends on his scent. All I had to do was to mention Big Bill and the kid went as white as a sheet."
"Big B ...?"
"Lovely man when he’s your friend. Good to have on your side."
Donald Caisson left the rest unspoken. Lisette felt a little more secure.
"That’s another thing you didn’t hear," she said, turning to Chérie.
"What was that?" asked the girl ingenuously, while her wide eyes betrayed complete attentiveness.
"Very good ... Honey, how are you feeling?"
"A lot better, thank you. I’m much warmer. There’s something more in this drink than just red wine isn’t there?"
"Yers." Donald nodded.
"I don’t think I’ll have any more." Chérie placed her mug on the coffee table with a slightly offended expression on her pretty face. "But I’d rather like some more plain mulled wine, if that’s possible."
"No problem at all," said Donald with forced joviality, his mind obviously on the subtle negotiations going on between him and Lisette. "I didn’t nobble the lot."
He rose and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later with a fresh steaming mug. The two young women in the meantime looked contentedly into the glow of the heater without speaking. Donald handed Chérie her new mug, returned to his seat and observed Lisette gravely.
"You agree that we have to do this properly?" he asked.
Lisette nodded, and took a sip of her drink, which was now almost empty.
"Right ... Right."
Donald Caisson rose and walked into the adjoining bedroom, thumbing open his mobile phone and dialing a number as he went. Lisette heard a brief muttered conversation and was none the wiser when Don returned to her side. She raised her eyebrows.
"I’ve taken the liberty of calling on the good services of another friend," Donald explained. "He’ll meet us at your apartment at eight tonight. That gives us plenty of time to finish relaxing here and go on into the city. We’ll complete the set-up back at your flat. Is that agreeable to you?"
"Okay. You’re the boss."
"In certain strategic matters only," Donald temporised.
Lisette hugged the blanket closer around her.
"I’ll be glad to get home and put on something decent to wear. It’s a little too cold to make a bra and panties into a fashion statement."
*
Lisette’s apartment was in the same condition as when she left it. There had been no further invasion by the unknown burglar, man or woman, who had left her tied up after failing to find what they were looking for. She told the story to Chérie as they entered.
"That can point to only one thing, Chèrie," she added. "There’s an informant within Revenue, our own organisation. Did you have any idea of that when you started your legal investigation?"
"That’s classified information, but yes, it is an aspect of my brief," responded the girl.
"And the question is ..." Lisette turned to Donald Caisson who was carefully checking the door’s locks behind them. "Is that person a member of the gang or not? He or she did not sound very well disposed towards Vellum and Kidd, did not kidnap me and take me to them, for instance."
‘That’s part of the jigsaw puzzle," agreed Don. "You’ve found some of the pieces already, that there is one large gang made up of different cells."
"Yes, Red Vellum and Doctor Kidd. And Ingrid, their minder. Then there’s the flower woman, Priscilla Moons and her henchman Jakes Bottomly ... and probably the man who’s supposed to run the place, Sir Justin Hoffnung, though we can’t be sure that he’s a member of the gang ..."
"Not without evidence," added Chèrie.
"Right ... And there’s that awful woman Dorothea Wimple, who appears to be running that library on her own. And another loner is Mrs Alvina Gamms. I’ve had very nasty experiences with most of those people."
"You’ve forgotten Doc Legato," added Donald. "He’s lying low, but it’s good to remember him."
"Yes, of course ... So, Don, what are we going to do?"
Donald Caisson looked at his watch. "My friend will be arriving soon ... Lisette, why don’t you change while we’re waiting?"
"Good idea. I’ll have a quick shower too. Then Chériecan follow me ... On second thought, ChérieHoney, you go first. I want to ask Don something. Oh, and borrow one of my dressing gowns."
When Chériehad gone into the bedroom, Lisette turned to Donald Caisson.
"Don, should I wear something practical?"
"Of course."
"I just thought that if I was glammed up in a business suit or a smart day dress it would look more authentic - it would look as though I’d been taken by surprise."
"Hmm. Keep your own comfort in mind. My story will be that I abducted you from your apartment. They would just as easily accept casual clothes."
"Yes. Oh well. Jeans and t-shirt then."
"A wise decision."
*
After Chérie had showered, Lisette took her turn and reappeared in the living room wearing a blue silk dressing gown in Japanese cut. Her hair was fresh and shining, shampooed and blow-dried. Donald and Chéries at in armchairs, the former with a brandy balloon in his hands and Chérie sipping mineral water daintily from a crystal glass. She was wearing a gold silk dressing gown with a large dragon pattern picked out in red across the back. Lisette poured herself a mineral water and joined them. Donald Caisson cleared his throat.
"Yers ... Chérie has just been telling me that she wants to join you in this caper. She says it will look even better if I brought the two of you in as prisoners. I’m trying to dissuade her. It’s risky enough with one ..."
"I know what you mean ... Chèrie, Sweetie, you know what it was like in their hands. Tied, blindfolded, gagged. You don’t really want to go through all that again!"
"It’s quite daunting, yes. But I have to. I have a job to do, and if you go on your own you might miss something that I’d notice."
"Oh Chèrie, that won’t do! They’ll keep us blindfolded, or locked away in a dark room. How much do you think you’ll notice? ... And anyway, I wanted to ask this ..." Lisette turned to Donald. "What do we do once we’re in the gang’s hideout?"
"Well, we know already that they have computer records. I couldn’t go in alone - they wouldn’t let me in. Messenger boys never go near the source. That’s how criminal groups like this one remain secret for so long. But if I had you as a prisoner they’ll let me through the door. They see you as a gad-fly, a young woman who mysteriously escapes as soon as they think they have her secure."
"That means they won’t take chances next time." Lisette shivered. "I’ve been trussed up in a terribly tight bundle twice. And they’ll do it again."
"Yers. The plan is to use you as a means of getting in, when I’ll find the opportunity to raid their computer bank."
"In the meantime I just have to lie still in whatever way they decide to bind me, and wait for you to rescue me?"
"That’s right. Are you still game? You can back out now and we’ll think up some other strategy."
"No ... no. It’s an adventure, and we’ll have that communication working for us this time won’t we? And as for Chèrie, I think she should come if she wants to."
"Please Mister Caisson," interposed Chèrie, "We’ll be company for each other, even if we can’t speak. And if you can rescue us first, I have a degree in computer science that might come in handy."
"Well ... I still don’t like it."
"But we’ll have some sort of backup won’t we?" said Lisette. "Didn’t you say that you were expecting a friend to arrive soon?"
"I did. And ..."
"You called, sir?"
Lisette started to her feet, her hand to her mouth but her mind flying to where she had placed her shoulder bag with its secret Derringer. Chérie was frozen on the spot, the almost empty glass half raised to her lips. Only Donald Caisson was unperturbed. He turned his head casually to observe their unexpected visitor.
"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder what was keeping you," said Donald.
"Traffic, sir. Somewhat of a nuisance at the best of times."
"Oh yes. Eight o’clock. The time when people are rushing to shows, clubs or restaurants. Quite so."
"Don, who is this man?" cried Lisette, "And how on earth did he get in here?"
The man in question was slender and, although he was only about two inches taller than Donald Caisson, his apparently light frame gave the illusion of greater height. He reminded her somehow of Basil Rathbone in the old 1940s Sherlock Holmes movies. But, unlike the Holmes character, his hair was straw-coloured, or perhaps bleached, and it was tied in a short queue at the back. He wore a dark suit jacket and trousers, dark shoes, and a black roll-neck sweater.
Donald rose to his feet, walked to the interloper, took his hand and shook it warmly and, turning to face the two women, placed his other hand on the visitor’s shoulder.
"Allow me to introduce you to a very good friend of mine, Roger Iggotson." The man bowed. "He used to answer to the name of Rogi, but that was for a different caper in another country. Here he prefers his original given name, although sometimes we use the code-word Rôdeur."
"How do you do."
Lisette stepped across and offered her hand. Roger took it but, instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and brushed them against the back of her fingers. A tingle of pleasure ran through Lisette. No man had ever kissed her hand before.
"Roger is, ah, que’est-ce qu’on dit"
"Je suis un galant, Mam’selle Ruisseau."
"I understand, a gentleman," said Lisette with a smile, "But, with a name like Iggotson ...?"
"Roger has spent many years on the Continent. The gallantry is now second-nature with him," explained Donald Caisson with a smile, "While the rest of us have to work hard at it."
"All right. How do you do, Mister ... ah, Roger. But, Don, how did he get in?"
"Roger moves in mysterious ways. He is an exquisitely skilful cat-burglar in his spare time, and very few locks are an obstacle to him, hence the code-name."
"Code-name? Oh, of course ... rôdeur, a prowler or wanderer!"
"No, I didn’t hear that at all!" exclaimed Chèrie, rising to her feet. "Mister Iggotson ..." The young lawyer stepped up to them and formally extended her arm almost at eye level. "How do you do? I’m delighted to meet you."
Roger took her hand and kissed it as he had done Lisette’s.
Chérie smiled in appreciation. "I’m beginning to enjoy being among eccentrics," she murmured, and a faint flush crept up her neck.
Roger bowed slightly and turned to Donald Caisson.
"I made the purchases as you requested, Sir. I trust they are appropriate."
"I’m sure they will be. Thank you, Roger mon ami. Lisette, my dear, have I your permission to allow Roger to prepare himself a drink?"
"Of course," Lisette smiled.
Roger moved towards the small liquor cabinet with smooth practiced steps, just like a cat too, thought Lisette. They’re both pretty pantherish, she mused, and felt a flush creep up her neck.
Donald turned to her, carefully weighing in his hands a stylishly wrapped parcel that Roger had just given him.
"I’m not used to buying women’s under-things," he said, handing the package to Lisette. "But Roger has impeccable taste so I passed the responsibility on to him. I hope that between us we have the styles right."
The package contained four crisp white undergarments carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Lisette could scarcely credit that Roger - and perhaps even Don - did not buy bras and panties for women on a regular basis. Different styles had been chosen for both women. But the panties were string-sided and both bras were half-cup and under-wired. What amazed Lisette, however, was that the men had managed to get their respective sizes correct. Hers was a 34C, Chèrie’s a 36D. Donald cleared his throat.
"They are to replace, first, the loss of Chèrie’s lingerie and, second, damage to your own. A small gift."
"Why, th- thank you! They’re beautiful, and expensive."
"Dare I say that you both have immediate need of them?"
Lisette went to Don and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. She then turned to Roger and, putting her arms around him, kissed him on both cheeks. Roger smiled and raised his drink in salute. It looked like a whiskey and soda.
*
Fifteen minutes later, Lisette and Chérie were sitting around the coffee table facing Donald Caisson and Roger Iggotson aka Rôdeur, fresh drinks in their hands. Lisette savoured a gin and tonic and Chèrie, a little against her principles, she was heard to mutter, was drinking a soda with a dash of angostura bitters. Lisette wore a pair of blue jeans, light weight boots, and a figure-hugging top, light brown in colour with long sleeves and, under it all, her new lingerie. Chérie was dressed in one of Lisette’s business suits. But her gift of lingerie was all that fitted properly. The skirt and jacket were noticeably tight, and she looked very self-conscious in the pair of bunny slippers that Lisette had given her to keep her feet warm. She was insisting on going back to her apartment to change.
"It’s all very well dressing sensibly for the occasion, and thank you for offering me one of your track suits, Lisa, but I’d much rather dress casual in my own clothes if it’s all the same. A girl has some pride you know."
Donald and Roger exchanged glances and shrugged in unison.
"Roger will take you back to your apartment," said Donald.
"I’ll be all right," replied Chèrie, drawing herself up to full height in a movement that almost popped one of the buttons on Lisette’s jacket. "I’ll take a taxi. And I’ll come right back. Mister Iggotson has only just arrived and you need to discuss the plan with him. You can be doing that while I change."
"I think it will be all right," agreed Lisette. "Chérie doesn’t live far from here. It can be done in less than an hour."
"But then Chérie won’t know the details of the plan," Donald grumbled.
"You can tell me in the car on the way to the criminal’s hideout," responded Chérie with an air of finality.
Roger shrugged in a Gallic gesture. "This is one of those difficult pauses that always seem to take place in a caper, Sir, if you don’t mind my saying."
"But we can use it to our advantage," argued Lisette. "I’m not quite sure what Don has in mind yet, aside from the basic plan."
So it was settled. Lisette phoned for a taxi and Chérie left to wait for it at the door of the apartment building.
"Well?" asked Lisette as she sat on the sofa opposite Donald Caisson, close enough to stroke his ankles with her hose-covered feet. "What are the details. Now that you two are together?"
Donald winced delicately, but he did not withdraw his legs to a safer distance.
"Roger and I have worked as a team before."
"But surely not on the strategy we’re going to use?"
"As a matter of fact, yers," replied Donald a little uncomfortably.
"You mean ... you’ve tied up women before ...?"
"For similar reasons, yers."
"Oh ... And how did she take it?"
"The lady in question, who shall remain nameless, took it in good part. She was a real trouper," said Roger.
"And ... did the trick work?"
"Very much so, dear lady," replied Roger. "The caper started somewhat problematically but it had advantageous outcomes."
"Well, that’s all right then. And the lady in question ... was ... is she safe?"
"She is safe and living quietly somewhere in Paris with a friend she made during the affair," said Donald.
"Oh ... good. Then ... when do we start?"
"This is how it will be done," said Donald, coming forward, dipping a finger in his drink and placing it on the coffee table where he drew lines to illustrate his points. "First, I take you and Chérie in the Mercedes. Secondly, Roger will follow discreetly in his car and keep an eye on us ... and probably not always from a distance. Third, just before we reach the place, which is a country property with a long driveway and large iron gates, you and Chérie will be blindfolded. But I want you to be able to see where we’re going because you may need to find your own way back if we become separated. I will then present you to the gang, having phoned them in advance when we are nearly there so that they can’t easily suggest an alternative rendezvous. No doubt you will be incarcerated somewhere on the property. I shall have access to the main building, even briefly, by which time Roger will have infiltrated as only he can. Together Roger and I will inspect their computer room. Then we’ll rescue you."
"It sounds like a good plan," mused Lisette. "Risky, but I like taking risks."
"I noticed," said Donald drily.
"Chérie and I don’t do anything. We won’t be able to will we? I hope it won’t be for long."
"We are very quick in such matters," added Roger.
Lisette stood and paced about the floor. She was feeling decidedly nervous. After passing the bedroom doorway twice, she stopped and turned to the two men.
"Well, why don’t we get started?"
"We can’t."
"Why?"
"We’re waiting for Chèrie."
"Oh ... yes. But we could be getting ready."
"It’s a nervous business, waiting," said Roger soothingly.
Lisette bit her lip. "Yes ... I know. But we could get started ... Why don’t you tie me up?"
Donald shook his head doubtfully. "I don’t know ..."
"It may be a good idea at that, Sir," said Roger. "When Mam’selle Chalmers gets back, which should be any moment, we’ll have to leave immediately. It’s already past nine, and it’s a long journey."
"All right." Donald Caisson got to his feet.
"I know just the thing," exclaimed Lisette. She darted into the bedroom and returned with the gold satin sash to the happy-coat that Chérie had been wearing. She handed it to Donald.
"It will look authentic if I’m tied with things from this apartment."
She turned and put her arms behind her back. Donald Caisson gathered her hands together and began to wind the sash carefully about Lisette’s wrists.
"You have to make it tight," said the young woman. "It’s got to look real ... Oh ... yes that’s real enough."
Lisette tried to look behind her. Donald had tied her wrists very securely together. It was a simple crisscrossing of the sash, but it was also cinched between her wrists before being made tight with a double knot that was out of reach of her fingers, all of its length used. Lisette turned to Donald and looked up into his eyes.
"Don," she whispered mischievously, standing very close to him, "Doesn’t this give you ideas? You have a woman helpless and at your mercy!"
"I rather think the opposite is more applicable, Darling," Don whispered back.
Roger coughed discreetly. "Perhaps we should wait below, at the main entrance?"
"For Chérie... good idea,’ said Donald, extricating himself from the situation, but not without a faint moue of disappointment.
Lisette nodded, becoming businesslike again. "You can put an overcoat around my shoulders so that if someone sees us they won’t know that my hands are tied ... And aren’t you going to gag me?"
"I’m sorely tempted," replied Donald. He started to walk towards the bedroom.
"Bring a handful of scarves and handkerchiefs," Lisette called after him. "You’ll need some for Chérie. And when you do it, it’s got to look convincing!"
Donald returned, stuffing a handful of brightly coloured silks into his jacket pocket.
"That jacket ..." began Lisette.
"Yers?"
"It’s hideous."
"I thought you’d never ask. When one moves in criminal circles it’s advisable to adhere to some of their tastes in clothes."
"Yes," said Roger, "He’s known in some quarters as the carpet case."
The broad wink in Lisette’s direction told her that he was only joking. But Lisette was never quite sure for a long time afterwards.
"Come on," said Donald.
He draped Lisette’s bluish wet-look overcoat around her shoulders, took her arm firmly and with a familiarity that sent a delicious shiver of pleasure through her back, walked her out the door. Roger followed in silence. Lisette was to find that was one of his endearing qualities. He closed the door behind them.
They took the stairs to the ground floor two flights down, in preference to the lift, and arrived at the main doors. They were closed and sealed for security reasons. Lisette could see the Mercedes parked across the road.
"Shall we wait here or by the outside steps?" she asked in a whisper, though no one else was about.
"Outside I think," said Donald. "Chérie should be here by now. I hope nothing’s happened to her."
"It should be safe," agreed Lisette. "As far as I know, the gang don’t know where she lives."
"But they know where you live, don’t they?"
"I’m not really sure."
Roger held the main doors open while Donald and Lisette walked through. The three of them stood on the top step and looked out on a street that was shining from a recent fall of rain. Lisette was glad that the overcoat was around her shoulders. She could feel the chill seeping up from the pavement. She flexed her fingers, testing her wrist bonds. She was well and truly tied. Vellum and Kidd will be impressed, she thought. She looked up and down the street. It was deserted. Her eyes dropped and in response to incipient boredom she began to count the steps from where they were standing. One - two - three - four ...
"Don! What’s that?"
"Where?" asked Donald Caisson, his right hand moving under the left armpit of his garish jacket.
"There, on the ground!"
They descended the steps and, at the fourth step - which was the last one before the transition to the pavement - Roger dropped to his knees and picked up something white. He held it up in his hand for Donald Caisson and Lisette Ruisseau to see.
It was a woman’s lace handkerchief.
"Oh Don," cried Lisette, "That’s my handkerchief. It was in the breast pocket of the jacket Chérie was wearing. Don .. That could mean ..."
"Yers. Mam’selle Chérie Chalmers may well have been abducted again."
ã Brian Sands 2004
ã Brian Sands 2004