Lisette and the Cyber Geeks
by
Brian Sands
Spanish Movie, Fuzzweb DidClip, Brian Sands capture
Chapter Twenty-One The Final Ploy
Lisette sat in one of the easy chairs in the living room of the ivy and honeysuckle cottage. The revolver that had formerly been the possession of Doc Legato lay within easy reach on a coffee table beside her. Legato had been taken away by Donald Caisson in the police car that Sir Justin Hoffnung had stolen. Hoffnung himself, and his younger brother Bombadil Kidd, their hands on their heads, lay prone on the floor on their faces like two beached whales. The first step in the plan hatched by Donald and Lisette had been taken. Lisette awaited developments for the next step to begin.
She had left a window ajar so that she heard the motor as soon as the van returned from the Flowers R Us building. The driver’s door slammed shut, there followed the footsteps of someone mounting to the porch, the unlocking of the front door, and the clack-clack of boots as their wearer came along the hallway. The door opened and Priscilla Moons stood on the threshold, goggling at the sight that met her eyes.
"Hullo," said Lisette sweetly, "Please raise your hands."
Lisette’s revolver was now trained on the woman.
"Wh- What ...?"
"Time to exchange roles," said Lisette, enjoying herself at the woman’s expense. "As you see, Tweedledum and Tweedledee have been sorted out. And you’re next."
Lisette rose to her feet.
"Out, please, and down the hallway."
Priscilla Moons left the room reluctantly, her arms still raised. Lisette stopped at the door and turned to Hoffnung and Kidd.
"I advise you not to move from here if you value your skins."
Both men nodded in unison, but Lisette locked the door as an additional precaution. She had to trust in their cowardice that they would not try to escape through the window. In all probability someone would be outside waiting for them.
Moons was standing apprehensively in the hallway, her hands still raised. Lisette nudged the woman with the revolver and shepherded her to the second doorway.
"Inside."
They entered. The room was almost bare except for a few empty boxes around the walls. A rickety chair stood to one side near where a wide strip of carpet covered part of the plasticised floor. On the carpet was a neatly arranged bed sheet.
"This is where you kept Chérie, and it’s good enough for my purposes too."
"Wh- What are you going to do?" asked Priscilla Moons, "Are you turning us over to the police?"
Lisette looked at the woman. Moons had done a quick change and freshened up at the office and her metamorphosis was remarkable. Instead of straggly hair knotted in a bun, her locks had been combed out and swung glossily around her shoulders. She looked very chic, dressed in a dark business suit of skirt, jacket and white blouse. Tan stockings shone on what were undeniably good-looking legs, from anyone’s point of view.
Lisette took a deep breath.
"We have a proposition for you," she began. "But, first, have you spoken to your boss, Madame Vellum, recently?"
"N- No. Why?"
"The proposition concerns her - and your whole organisation - so I suggest that you use your mobile and try to contact her, now."
Priscilla Moons fished in her shoulder bag, thumbed open a small mobile phone, and dialled a number. In a few seconds, she was speaking to Red Vellum.
"Yes ... Yes Madame ... Of course, Madame ... I see ... All right ... Do I have to? ... All right."
Moons snapped the unit shut, her face more mobile than ever.
"Well?"
"M- Madame says that I’m to do whatever you say," reported Moons uneasily.
"Good ... Now, we know that your pilot is making another run tonight."
"Yes. He’s due in ..." Moons looked at her gold wrist watch. "Three hours, just before morning."
"And I daresay that you and the brothers Grimm are eager to be out of the country."
"Yes, but ..."
"Well, you may be surprised but we’re going to help you. You already have most things arranged. The van is waiting. It only needs the three of you in it and on your way. But there’s something more. What I want you to do first is to tear that sheet into strips. Three or four pieces will be sufficient I think."
Puzzled, Priscilla Moons set about the task. Lisette watched as the woman very professionally tore the sheet into just the right number, and the best widths for the job. The woman probably had a suspicion about the uses to which they would be put.
When Moons was finished, Lisette said, "Now tear one of those strips into half its length ... good ... roll up one half, longways, and tie a knot in the centre ... Fine. Now they can go on that chair temporarily, all except for one."
Moons placed the bundle of white linen on the chair and straightened up to face Lisette.
"I suppose you’re going to tie me up?" the woman asked huskily. Her lips quivered. Her eyes were large and round.
"You’re half right," said Lisette.
Lisette walked to the chair and carefully laid the revolver down on the seat. Empty-handed, she retraced her steps until she was in front of Priscilla Moons, then turned with her back to the woman, and placed her arms behind her with the wrists crossed.
"Tie me up, Miss Moons. Make it tight ... make sure I can’t get free."
"Wh-Why ...?"
"We need to convince the police. They’ll arrive later this morning when they come for the two men Kidd and Hoffnung. That should allow you plenty of time to get away."
Moons began twisting the strip of bed sheet around Lisette’s wrists before she had finished speaking, working quickly so that Lisette had no chance to change her mind. While she worked, the woman warmed to her task and became very professional, giving the thin sheet a couple of tugs each time it went around Lisette’s slender wrists. When the knot was doubled and cinched to Moons’ satisfaction, she took Lisette by the shoulders and turned her around. Both women looked into each other’s eyes.
"Just tell Sir Hoffnung and Doctor Kidd that you overpowered me," said Lisette softly. "If you try to take me with you the deal’s off. You’re being watched, and it won’t work. Just tell Kidd and Hoffnung it’s better to leave me here and that I’m in no position to raise the alarm. Madame Vellum doesn’t want them to know much at this stage, so make it general. Do you understand?"
Priscilla Moons nodded, but she looked troubled.
"Why are you doing this?"
"It’s a new game, a new ploy. I don’t know much about it myself. But you’re expected to re-establish your organisation on the Continent, with fewer personnel however, and to carry on with the publication of bandes dessinées, you cyber geeks, and await further instructions. Madame Vellum will tell you more. And the other reason? You were decent to me when I was your prisoner, and I don’t really want you to go to jail. So, try to change your ways. Some of the others will."
"All right ..." said Priscilla Moons slowly, "You’d better sit down then while I tie your ankles."
Lisette knelt on the carpet and lowered herself to the expanse of bed sheet that remained after Moons’ onslaught on it. She pulled her feet up, bending her knees, and Miss Moons knelt before her with the second piece of sheet in her hands. Lisette’s ankles were bound securely together. She was now tied hand and foot, simply but effectively. Moons patted her thigh through the silk dress, straightened up and gave Lisette a gentle kiss full on the mouth. Lisette responded just as gently. To an observer, it was an unremarkable woman-to-woman kiss, much as two friends might exchange when saying au revoir.
"Till we meet again, Lisette Ruisseau," said Miss Priscilla Moons huskily. "I’m sorry you’re not a member of the sisterhood."
"Well I am in a way. We’re both women," Lisette temporised. "And I wish you well. You’ll find a nice woman in Paris. Now, it’s time to put the gag on me and get out of here with those two hopeless men."
Moons smiled at this.
"Yes, they are pretty hopeless aren’t they? But their sister keeps them in line, most of the time."
"Sister? You mean Madame Vellum?"
"Yes. It’s a small family firm, really. I’m a sort of distant cousin. So is Alvina ... Well she and Madame are half-sisters really. Sigrid and Dorothea Wimple are the only two who are not related to our little clan."
Priscilla moved to the chair for the two remaining pieces of cloth. She paused and picked up the revolver gingerly.
"It’s not loaded," said Lisette with a smile. "I couldn’t bring myself to shoot anyone."
Though I do have my little Derringer don’t I? she said to herself.
Aloud, she added, "I don’t think you should take it with you. Your group do not use guns do you, only that boy Legato?"
Moons replaced the revolver on the seat and picked up the pieces of bed sheet.
"No. Where is that little stinker by the way?"
"He’s been taken to the police. We thought it was a good idea to get someone like that behind bars."
"Quite right. He lowered the tone of our organisation ... Now, Miss, if you’ll open your mouth..."
Lisette complied and Priscilla Moons pressed the smaller cloth into her mouth. The piece of bed sheet had been folded into a neat triangular pad in such a way that any loose threads on the torn sides were enclosed to prevent them from slipping into the captive’s throat and causing a choking reflex. The broader and thicker base of the triangle went in first. It filled the front of Lisette’s mouth. Miss Moons allowed the pointed ends to protrude and worked the knot in the other strip of cloth in between the folds of the triangle. She then pushed the knot deeper until it was behind Lisette’s teeth. The young woman’s jaws were now wide open and the wadding filled most of her mouth. Moons then passed the ends of the linen strip around to the back of Lisette’s head over her hair and tied a single knot, worked it tighter until she was satisfied that there was no slack, and tied off a second knot. The gag was now locked firmly in place.
"That should hold you," said Moons with satisfaction. "I’m sure the police will be convinced."
"Mmm hmmm," was all the reply Lisette could manage.
Moons climbed to her feet. Lisette lay back and arranged herself on her side. She looked completely helpless, her face flushed from the tightness of the gag. On an impulse, Moons knelt beside her again, bent, and kissed Lisette gently on each eyelid in turn. Then she straightened up and walked hurriedly to the door.
"Au revoir, Lisette Ruisseau."
And she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.
Lisette sighed and lay back further. Although her bonds were very tight and uncomfortable, she did not struggle as she might have done under different circumstances. The ploy suggested by Donald Caisson appeared to be working. And Lisette was pleased to discover that she had divined Priscilla Moons’ character accurately. The woman had a soft streak. So in fact did Vellum, Sigrid and Gamms, she considered, though Dorothea Wimple the terrible librarian was the exception.
Lisette was bursting with curiosity about the whole scheme and was longing to interrogate Donald Caisson about it, preferably in bed in one of her silkiest and most alluring nightdresses. But she had to wait until this part of the affair was over.
The hard floor was cushioned insufficiently by the carpet and the thin bed sheet. How uncomfortable Chérie must have been, tied and gagged in here! she thought. But Roger is looking after her now. The man appeared to have taken quite a shine to the young lawyer. But it was good for Chérie to be out of it and for Don and herself to wind up the case between them.
Lisette rolled onto one side and bit down on the gag. Moons may be nicer than I thought, but she’s a dab hand at tying up. I’d hate to have to spend the morning bound like this. And the gag! I can hardly make a sound!
Lisette knew that if this was a real capture she had a fair chance of getting herself free because, for one thing, she noted, I’m only bound hand and foot and I can move about the room. And, for another thing, it might be possible to find something in all this rubbish around the floor that I could use to cut the bonds, or at least to hook the gag off and get some air. But she did not trouble herself with escape attempts. Instead, she lay still and considered what the subsequent moves in this final ploy might be.
One of them took place the next moment.
Lisette was startled into alertness when she heard the handle of the door being turned. The door opened and Sir Justin Hoffnung appeared on the threshold. He stepped into the room and stood looking down at Lisette where she lay gagged and bound on the floor.
"Well!" he huffed, "How suddenly fortunes change in human affairs!"
The rough, semi-literate façade was gone and instead Lisette was gazing up at an educated man speaking in perfect Oxbridge accents.
"Mmmph?"
"The delightful Miss Moons is telling us half truths," Hoffnung continued. "I can see as clear as day that you, Miss Lisa Rivers, are keeping your side of the bargain with me. You are assisting our escape from this country, are you not?"
"Mmm hm."
Lisette nodded. There seemed no point in attempting to deny it since it was more or less true.
"Unhappily, for I love the pigeons in Trafalgar Square and the hairy Highland cattle in the gloaming. And banishment to the Continent, though with its attractions will be a sad period in our lives. However, my dear ..."
Hoffnung knelt beside Lisette and bestowed a kiss on her forehead and patted her shoulder in an avuncular fashion.
"I will not forget your honesty and bravery. It takes a lot for a woman to allow herself to be bound and gagged, even if all you have to do is wait for eventual rescue. If it were one of the others, that little cad Legato, or my gormless younger brother for that matter, you would be in real trouble. Oh, and don’t worry." He said pausing at the door on his way out, "I’ll keep brother Boompsie on a short tether from now on."
Sir Justin Hoffnung bowed to Lisette in what was an elegant movement in spite of his girth.
"Who knows, Mam’selle Ruisseau? Perhaps one day we shall find ourselves working together."
"Mmph?"
The door closed and Lisette was alone once more. She fell back onto the carpet and found that she was shaking with delayed shock. For a moment there, I thought I was going to be abducted again, she thought. So I add Sir Hoffnung to the list of redeemable characters!
Slow minutes followed. Lisette lay still, listening as hard as she could until she was rewarded by the noise of the van’s starter motor. She heard no further sounds of the vehicle’s departure and guessed that they could not penetrate the thick walls of the cottage, but she assumed that Moons and the two brothers had gone.
Time continued to move slowly. The gag was drying out Lisette’s mouth and she was just beginning to decide to try an escape plan when she heard a faint noise in the ceiling. She looked up and watched in amusement as a manhole cover slid open. There was the blur of a garish checked jacket, and Donald Caisson dropped to the floor, landing cat-like on his feet in a fashion similar to that of Roger Iggotson, Le Rôdeur.
"Just wanted to show you that I can do it too," said the man with an outrageous wink as he walked towards Lisette.
"Mmmph gnnnph!"
Lisette sat up and shook her head in mock anger although she was tremendously pleased and relieved. Donald knelt at her side and began working on the knot at the back of her head. Gently, and with a soft caress to her cheek with one hand, Donald Caisson eased the gag from Lisette’s mouth, taking out the triangular wad of cloth as well. Lisette coughed and grimaced.
"Oh Don! I knew you were not far away, but I’m so glad you’re here now!"
"She did a good job of tying you up," observed Caisson as he cut through Lisette’s wrist and ankle bonds with a small knife.
"Yes. I’ve had enough of being bound, but especially of being gagged, for a lifetime."
She flung her arms around Donald’s neck and began kissing him strenuously.
"This is the hero’s reward," Lisette said breathlessly between kisses. Then, more seriously, "Do you think it will work?"
"I’m sure it will ..."
"No ... mmm ... the plan I mean!"
"There’s a very good likelihood. Everything depends on the chances of nature, that the van does not run out of petrol or break down, that the pilot arrives on time, anything. But human agency - or I should say agencies - will stay well away."
"Darling, how ...?"
"Not yet, dear lady. I’m taking you home."
"Home? My place or yours?"
"It’s all the same is it? ... Well, your place. It’s neater, has more room, and it’s closer."
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ã Brian Sands 2004