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| Sky and the Woman With A Past |
| Fiction by Frank Knebel |
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| Sky and the Woman With A Past |
| Fiction by Frank Knebel |
The sound of water softly splashing against tub and tiles came through the open door of the hotel bathroom into the luxurious bedroom. More sounds followed: small feet stepping onto a thick bathmat and a towel being pulled from a rack. There was a short pause before a female voice called.
"Eileen?"
A young woman, a tall, attractive, shapely light brunette in her mid-twenties wearing the uniform of a maid, entered the bedroom from the sitting room of the suite.
"Yes, Mrs. Powell."
"Could you unpack my new dress, please? It's in the box on the bed."
"Of course, ma'am."
The maid crossed to the large double bed covered with a sumptuous wine-red spread. She leaned over, opened the box and placed the top beside it.
"Oh, Mrs. Powell!" the maid exclaimed. "What a lovely dress!"
"It should be, considering what I paid for it," replied the woman in the bathroom.
The maid reached into the box and lifted the dress by its top. It was a black, form fitting, sheath-style dress, somewhere around knee-length, low-cut to display cleavage and with two fragile-looking spaghetti shoulder straps. She held it up for a good look.
"You'll be quite stunning in this, ma'am!" Eileen said admiringly. "Has Mr. Powell seen it yet?"
The woman appeared at the bathroom door, tucking a large towel, which matched the bedspread, about her sarong-style. Mara Powell was in her early thirties; a petite brunette with a lovely, fine-featured face dominated by sensual brown eyes. The delicate shoulders and arms with their creamy, flawless skin indicated that the dress was a perfect selection for her.
"He stopped at Henri's for my final fitting. I modeled it for him there."
"And?"
Mara Powell smiled in a cat-like fashion.
"He seemed to like it," she purred.
Eileen raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"I hope that he isn't so carried away that you don't make it to the party."
"Jim can be quite excitable at times, can't he?"
Eileen became exaggeratedly demure.
"I wouldn't know anything about men like that."
Mara seemed amused.
"You're always very discreet when you see him put his hand on my butt, Eileen. And I appreciate that. But there will be important business contacts there tonight, so I imagine that he'll be well behaved until after the party."
"And there'll be nothing to be discreet about if I'm in my room and you two are in yours," said Eileen.
There was a knock at the sitting room door. Mara grabbed at the top of her towel sarong just in time to keep it from unwinding.
"I'll retreat to the bathroom while you attend to whoever that is. I don't want to show too much to anyone beside Jim. And he wouldn't knock."
She ducked back into the bathroom while Eileen went to answer the door. A boy of about twenty in a bellhop uniform stood outside. He handed an envelope to Eileen.
"Message for Mrs. Powell," he said.
Eileen took the envelope. She searched feebly for a tip.
"Oh, don't worry," said the boy. "The Powells always take care of us."
He touched a finger to his temple in salute and turned away. Eileen closed the door.
"What is it, Eileen?" called Mara Powell.
"A note for you, ma'am."
"Open it and read it for me, will you, dear? You can tell me about it while you help me dress."
Eileen returned to the bedroom to find her employer, still in her sarong, standing at the dresser looking into her open jewelry box. She took out an expensive-looking bracelet, slipped it over her right hand and fastened the clasp.
"It's from Mr. Powell," said Eileen as she read. "The fire alarm went off in the building where he was having his meeting, so there was a long delay. He says to take a taxi to the party and he'll meet you there."
"Oh, dear. I guess he'll have change there, so I'll have to bring his tuxedo with me. Remember to get it from the closet after I'm dressed."
"Do you want a strapless bra to wear with that dress?" asked Eileen.
"No. I'll go au naturel on top."
Eileen giggled. Mara raised her eyebrow again.
"I won't be going too naturel. I do have panties on."
"Sorry ma'am," said Eileen. "I laid out your garterbelt and stockings earlier, and I think---"
They heard the sitting room door being thrown open. Noises from the next room indicated that several people had entered then closed the door. A tall, broad shouldered, hooded man appeared at the bedroom door. He raised a pistol and pointed it at the two women. He spoke in a husky voice.
"Okay, ladies. Hands up and stay real quiet."
He stepped into the bedroom. Three more hooded men followed. They were all big and strong-looking men wearing dark suits and hats.
"What is this?" demanded Mara Powell. "Who are you?"
Eileen slowly raised her hands as she turned to Mara.
"Please, Mrs. Powell," she said. "I think we'd better do what they say."
"You'd better listen to her, lady," one of the other men growled.
"So what'll it be, lady?" barked the first man. He wagged his pistol for emphasis.
"Just cooperate and nobody'll get hurt," said a third man. His voice was less menacing than the other two.
Mara looked from their captors to her maid. She turned back to the men and raised her hands as well.
"All right," she said sullenly. "Take what you want and get out."
"That's being smart," said the first man, the apparent leader. He turned to the two men on his left, the tallest of the four and the man with the gentler voice.
"Get busy and shut 'em up," he ordered.
"Okey-dokey, boss," said the tallest man.
The tall man stepped behind Mara Powell, while the man with the softer voice went behind Eileen.
"Do a good job on 'em," the leader said.
"Okey-dokey, boss," the tall man repeated.
The other man produced a wad of white cloth from a pocket and held it in front of Eileen's face.
"Open up now, honey."
Eileen hesitated. "No, please...…." she said.
"It won't be so bad if you don't fight it," the man said. "Come on and open."
Eileen gingerly opened her mouth. The man pushed the wad inside, then ran a thin strip of cloth between her jaws to hold the gag. He wrapped this long strip twice around her head, tying a firm knot at the back of her neck. Mara watched uneasily.
The taller man produced a similar ball of cloth.
"Okay, lady," he said to her. "It's your turn."
"This really isn't necessary, you know," she began. "There's no reason to----"
He stopped her protest by pushing the cloth into her mouth. She mewed loudly in alarm and started to raise her hands to grab the gag tie. The leader of the gang stepped forward and grabbed her by both wrists.
"I've got her. Just keep workin', Tiny," he told the tall man.
"Okey-dokey, boss."
Tiny used a long strip of cloth to secure Mrs. Powell's gag as the woman protested and struggled uselessly with the leader.
"A feisty one, huh? We can take care o' that." He turned to the softer voiced man. "Start gettin' her tied," he said with a nod to Eileen. He turned to the fourth man. "Find the goods, Wesley."
The man grunted something in reply and went to the dresser where the open jewel case sat. He took out several pieces and held them up in a gloved hand for inspection. Struggling in the grip of her two captors, Mara watched him. Her cries of protest and struggles increased.
"We got the goods here," said Wesley. "All real stuff."
He dropped the jewelry back into the case and began searching through the drawers. The soft voiced man had drawn Eileen's arms behind her back and held her hands together as he pulled a piece of rope from his suit coat pocket. When she felt the ropes circle her wrists, Eileen tried to flail her arms.
"Don't fight it, baby," the man said smoothly. "It'll be easier that way."
Eileen looked about her. Seeing that resistance would be useless, she relaxed and let the man wrap the rope several times around her wrists, securing them palm-to-palm. He tied a tight knot, then ran the last few inches of cord around the loops to make a cinch between her wrists and tied another knot.
"Got her," he reported.
The leader looked Eileen up and down.
"You haven't got her tied good enough. Use more rope."
Eileen grunted in alarm. The man took out a long length and began circling her arms and body, just below her bust. The leader turned back to Mara, who was still fighting his hold on her wrists. Tiny was finishing the knot on the tie holding her gag. The leader forced her left wrist down from near her face to pass it to Tiny, who pulled it behind her back.
"Get your rope ready," said the leader. "Before I give you her other hand there's something I need to get."
Despite her struggles, he unfastened the bracelet from her right wrist and slid it off her hand. He held the bracelet up and examined it as Tiny took her right hand and pulled it behind her. The leader whistled in admiration.
"Real diamonds! I know Van Dorf and Kohl's logo when I see it. This has got to be worth plenty."
Mara squealed in helpless indignation as she watched her jewelry being pawed while her wrists were being bound. She tried to kick the leader with her bare feet. The man chuckled at her efforts as he waited for Tiny to finish tying her hands.
"Okay. Bring the rich lady over to the bed."
Tiny put his huge hands on Mara Powell's upper arms and guided her toward the bed. The leader tossed the dress and its box onto the floor and looked at the petite, towel- wrapped woman struggling in Tiny's grasp. He put a hand to his chin.
"And speaking of first-class goods, I think that you're pretty first-class yourself."
He leaned to her and ran his right index finger back and forth along the top of her towel sarong a couple times before stopping at her cleavage. He let his fingers play between Mara's breasts for a moment. The woman mewed loudly and tried to twist away from him, but Tiny held her firmly. After a moment, the leader took a firm hold on the towel with his right hand and used his left to yank the tucked ends apart. With an extravagant gesture, he pulled the towel away to reveal Mara Powell's lush body, nude save for a brief pair of black panties.
Mara shrieked into the gag packing and lunged from side to side. Tiny laughed.
"She don't seem t' like that, boss," he said.
The leader tossed the towel away and stroked her breasts with his right hand. He took her chin in his left and turned her face upward to look directly at her.
"If she knew what I was thinking, she'd like that even less."
The soft-voiced man looked up from his work binding Eileen's arms. He had circled her arms and body with loops of rope above and below her breasts and was adding another set of loops just above her waist to further immobilize her forearms.
"Keep your mind on business, March," he said with more heat than he had used in addressing the women. "Just get her tied so we can get out of here."
"And who put you in charge, Denny?" the leader said.
Denny finished with the knot and took a half-step around the maid.
"I'm a one crime at a time sort. This is a simple robbery. I'm not going to let myself in for more charges just for your sake."
Wesley looked up from his search of the drawers.
"Me neither, March. If you want to assault women, do it on your own."
March, the leader, looked from Denny to Wesley. He shook his head.
"Didn't know I had a bunch of Boy Scouts on this job." He paused and looked at the now quiet Mara. "All right. We'll do it your way." He caressed one of her breasts again and sighed. "What a shame with a honey like this."
March took a coil of rope from his jacket pocket and handed it to Tiny.
"You know what to do, don't you, Tiny? Get started."
"Okey-dokey, boss."
They turned Mara around so she was facing Tiny. The big man easily reached his long arms around her to loop her arms and body just under her breasts. March took another rope and circled her body about the waist and forearms. He turned to Denny.
"Take the maid into the other room and put her on the floor. I don't want 'em to be able help each other when we scram."
Denny took Eileen by one arm and guided her out into the sitting room of the suite.
March turned back to Mara. Tiny had finished tying off the ropes under Mara's breasts and was starting another set around her upper arms just above her bust. March took another rope and looped Mara's arms above the elbows. She groaned as he pulled the cords tighter, though he did not force her elbows together.
"Okay, baby," he said when they were done. "Sit on the bed."
Mara sat on the edge of the bed while the two men bound her legs at the knees and ankles. When her legs were secured, March picked up her bound feet and threw them onto the bed, causing the bound woman to fall over on her side. He rolled her face down, ran another cord from her ankle bonds to the ropes around her upper body, and tied off the connecting rope. He turned to Wesley and Tiny.
"How'd we do, boys?"
Wesley held up the still open jewel box, now piled higher with other items.
"Pretty good," said Wesley. "The jewels plus a few hundred in cash, a couple watches, and some other stuff."
March raised his index finger.
"That reminds me."
He sat on the bed beside Mara and rolled her close enough to reach her bound hands. Mara mewed in alarm again as he worked at the fingers of her left hand. She gave a little shriek as he finished. He held up her engagement ring and looked at the diamond.
"Nice rock," he said admiringly. He patted her on the rump. "Thanks."
He handed the ring to Wesley, who put it in the box with the other loot.
"Wait for me," he told the two men. "I want to say goodbye to the rich lady."
The two men went through the door into the sitting room. March rolled Mara back on her side. She glared at him. He chuckled then began massaging her breasts again.
"You've been real nice to us, rich lady. I'd like to be real nice to you too, but my men don't approve and we're on a tight schedule. I hope that you'll learn something from all this. Every rich dame should spend a little time being robbed, tied and gagged and left like this. Tell your friends about us. We may be seeing them soon."
He rose and went into the other room, closing the door behind him.
The maid was on the floor. Her legs now tied at the knees and ankles and she was hogtied as Mara had been. The three gang members joined Denny standing over her.
"A good haul, guys," said March. "Now all we have to do is----"
Through the open window, they heard the slamming of car doors in the street below. Wesley went to the window and looked out. He immediately dashed back.
"Looks like trouble. I think the cops are here."
"How could they be?" asked Denny.
"Never mind that," snapped March. He thought for a few seconds then reached into the loot box. "We'll split up. I'll give everybody something in case some of us don't make it out."
He handed out the jewelry and cash, slipping Mara's engagement ring into his own pocket.
"Two of us on each staircase. Use different floors to try to make it out.
They hurried out the door and closed it behind them.
Eileen watched them go then began struggling to free herself. Tied as she was on the floor there was little she could do. Any scissors, paper knives or glassware that could be of use in cutting her bonds would be far above her, and she could not stand, kneel or even crawl to find anything like that. She worked her hands behind her and tried to slip her wrists from the loops of cord, but she was too well secured. Her only comforting thought was that if the police had somehow been alerted, she would not have long to wait for rescue.
Shouts came from below, then the sounds of metal clanging. She realized that men must be on the fire escapes. There was a shot, then two more. From a little distance away came the wail of sirens. The robbers must have been caught.
The door of the room flew open. A dark-haired man in a dark suit carrying a hood appeared. He crossed to Eileen and knelt beside her. He undid the two top buttons of her uniform.
"The cops got onto us somehow, baby," he whispered. "Wesley might have gotten away, but they caught March and Coates. I'm going to leave a couple things with you so you'll have something in case you need it while I'm in prison."
He took Mara's diamond bracelet and some cash from his coat pocket, tucked them inside Eileen's bra then rebuttoned her maid's frock. He returned a few more items to his pocket. She grunted inquisitively. He smiled.
"If they catch me, I want them to find something," he said. "Wish me luck. And wait for me, honey."
He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. As he started to rise, she mewed urgently to him. He bent again. She turned her face so he could kiss her gagged mouth.
Denny jumped to his feet and ran back into the corridor.
Janie Stanley took two books from the middle shelf of three on the wheeled cart and checked the authors' names on the spines.
"Let's see," the attractive young blonde said to herself. "O'Hara and --- what's this? Fitzgerald. How'd you get here? You're supposed to be two shelves back."
She ran her fingers down the alphabetized volumes of fiction to find the correct spot for the copy of The Last Hurrah then left the cart to return The Great Gatsby to its place among the Fs, scolding the book for misplacing itself as she went.
"How could you get so far out of your place?" she asked. "You belong way back here."
As she placed the book in its proper spot, she noticed the way the author's name had been printed. 'F. Scott' appeared a line above 'Fitzgerald.' She giggled softly.
"I thought that the author's name was 'Scott'," she said to herself.
Janie giggled again, putting her own hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. She quickly composed herself and peered over the balcony rail to check whether Mrs. Harvey or Mrs. Franklin on the lower level had noticed. There was no sign that anyone had been disturbed. She congratulated herself on her luck before returning to the shelves where she had left the cart. Janie reshelved a half-dozen more books before taking out a volume that caused her to stop. It was Mystery at the Big Game by Clementine Sharpe, number twenty-one in the series of Polly Booth, Coed Sleuth stories. Janie's eyes opened wide.
"I don't remember this one!" she whispered to herself. "I wonder if there are any good chapters in it!"
With another furtive glance up and down the aisle, Janie leaned lightly on the cart, opened the book to the table of contents and ran her index finger down the list of chapter titles. Chapter Twelve, of the inevitable twenty-four chapters, was 'A Confrontation.' Janie flipped through the pages and scanned it only to find that Polly and her friends Beth and Mike, nickname for Beth's tomboyish cousin whose name was actually 'Michelle', had been discovered poking through the belongings of the rival school's cheerleaders. After some angry words with the girls, Polly and her chums were sternly lectured by the dean.
Janie frowned and returned to the contents. Her eyes opened wider when she caught sight of Chapter Twenty-two, 'A Perilous Situation.' After another look around, Janie searched for the page. As she was about to turn the last leaf, her eyes fell on the final paragraphs of the preceding chapter.
"Bingo!" she whispered.
Polly looked up from the trunk containing the stolen playbook to see Rowena Gault and two men, Wilde and Hackman, blocking the doorway. One of the men was pointing a pistol at her.
"Find something of interest, Miss Booth?" asked Rowena. "I think that we can find some way of making this an even more interesting day for you."
Janie gulped, then smiled as she eagerly turned to the next chapter.
"So I was right!" said Polly. "You did steal the playbook. Does winning the game mean that much to your school?"
Rowena laughed.
"Who cares about the school? I only care about the bets my friends here have made on my school to win."
"Illegal gambling?" Polly demanded. "Is that what this is all about? How could you, Rowena?"
"Let's cut the chitchat here," said Wilde. "Now that the little snooper knows, what're we going to do with her?"
"We'll have to keep her out of the way until the game's over," said Rowena. She looked at Polly. For the first time, there was an expression of doubt on her attractive face. "Tie her up. And you'd better gag her, too."
Hackman took a piece of rope from the pocket of his jacket and stepped forward.
"With pleasure," he said with a smirk.
Janie laid the book on the top of the cart and leaned over farther. Her breasts were pressed against the books on the top shelf, and the girl could feel her nipples hardening as they brushed along the spines when she moved.
"I'm glad that Polly gets tied up so often," Janie said to herself. "I don't exactly know why, but I am."
The girl had read her first Polly Booth mystery when she was eleven, some eight years before. It had not taken too many scenes in which Polly was captured and bound by the villains for Janie to realize that depictions of a tied and gagged heroine excited her. She glanced around again to be certain no one was watching her.
"Of course, being tied up and threatened by gangsters wouldn't really be fun," she thought. "But being princess in distress who has to be saved by somebody strong and handsome sure would. Then we'd outsmart the bad guys and call the police. That would show everybody something."
Janie stared into space for a few moments, trying to form a picture in her mind's eye of her ideal hero. She considered and rejected a few movie star types, unconsciously trying out a few appealing expressions she might use on him when he found her bound and helpless.
"I'll have to work on that later," she told herself, and returned to her reading.
Wilde grabbed Polly's arms and twisted them behind her back. Hackman looped the cords about her wrists several times and tied a firm knot.
"You'll never get away with this," Polly said stoutly. "My friends have a good idea where I am and they'll come looking for me very soon.
"I hope they do," said Wilde. "That way we'll have all three of you snoopers out of the way."
"The more the merrier," added Hackman.
Wilde took a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket and used it to gag Polly.
"There's a nice sturdy post in the storeroom," said Wilde. "We can tie her to it and lock the door. If her friends show up, there's plenty of room in there for them too."
"Come on, snooper," rasped Hackman as they took Polly by the arms and dragged her to the door of the storeroom.
Once inside, they backed Polly against an upright beam, tied her feet together at the ankles and bound her to the post. Rowena watched them work.
"We don't need to hurt her, do we? Once the game is over and all the money's paid, there's no way for anyone to get the results changed."
She tried to sound assertive, but the expression on her face plainly showed her apprehension.
"Don't be stupid," snapped Wilde. "If the conference authorities find there was any cheating, they can declare a forfeit. Little Miss Snoopy here will have to disappear."
"And that goes for her friends if we run into them," said Hackman.
"But you can't do that!" cried Rowena.
Wilde took a step toward her and pointed a finger in her face.
"And if you try to cross us, it can easily go for you as well," he threatened.
He grabbed her by the elbow and led her from the room. Hackman stopped by the door and bowed to Polly.
"Enjoy yourself, Miss Detective. Don't tire yourself out too much."
He closed the door behind him and Polly heard the key turning in the lock.
"I can't let this happen to me or to Beth or Mike," she thought desperately. "I've got to find some way to free myself. But how?"
She began struggling against the ropes that bound her.
"Having a nice read?"
Janie looked up quickly. Yvonne Cramer, the voluptuous, petite brunette of about her own age who also worked days in the library, was leaning against one of the bookcases and watching her. Janie closed the cover of the book but kept her finger inside to mark the page she had been reading.
"Oh, come on, Yvonne," Janie said as casually as she could. "We all stop to read things from time to time."
Yvonne strolled over and flipped the book open to see the page Janie had been reading. She turned to the next page. To Janie's horror, on the facing page there was a line drawing illustration of Polly bound and gagged at the post.
"Ooooh!" said Yvonne. "Is Polly in danger again?"
She looked at Janie, her brown eyes fixing on Janie's chest. Janie knew that her firm nipples were plainly visible though her bra and blouse.
"I thought that I'd seen you reading these from time to time," Yvonne continued. "And then there were the rumors, of course."
"Rumors?" Janie asked, her face reddening. "What rumors?"
"The first ones were among the babysitters," Yvonne said casually. "Those of us who took care of the Towers kids. We all knew about some of the games of cowboys and Indians or cops and robbers that little creep Jimmy liked to play with us. We heard that you were his favorite sitter. And then, a few of the girls who dated Howard Benson had some stories to tell." She gave Janie a searching look. "Didn't you go with him for almost a year before he went into the Army?"
Janie was very much on the defensive. She had no idea what to say for a moment. Then a thought struck her.
"Wait a minute, Yvonne," she said. "How do you know so much about playing cops and robbers with Jimmy Towers?"
Now it was Yvonne's turn to look at Janie in blank silence. She opened her mouth once, then closed it. She started to speak again when a woman's voice came from the top of the stairs.
"Janie. I'm going to need you down at the desk for a while."
Both girls looked. Monica Franklin, the tiny but shapely brunette assistant librarian, was standing on the top step of the circular metal staircase on one end of the fiction area. She smiled at the younger women.
"Yvonne can finish reshelving the books on the cart," she said. "I need some help at the desk right now."
"Sure, Mrs. Franklin." Janie pushed the Polly Booth volume into Yvonne's midsection. "Here you go, Yvonne. Have fun."
Mrs. Franklin descended the stairs with Janie following.
"I hope there's nothing wrong, Mrs. Franklin," said Janie. "We didn't disturb anyone with our talking, did we?"
Monica Franklin smiled indulgently.
"It's nothing like that, Janie. Mrs. Harvey is going out to the office supply store and I'm checking in some new arrivals, so we need someone to work the desk."
"Well, I'm your girl," Janie said brightly.
The checkout desk was a hollow rectangular area with a swinging gate on one side. Janie went through the gate while Monica went into the main office nearby. Several boxes of books lay on the floor just inside the office door.
"I'm ready, Mrs. Harvey," Janie said to the rather tall woman bent over behind the desk.
"I'm glad to hear it, Janie," said the librarian.
She straightened up. For a woman of about forty, Mrs. Harvey was quite attractive. There were a few gray strands in her light brown hair, but her face was youthful and her figure was very pleasing. She slipped the strap of the purse she had taken from the shelf below the counter over one arm.
"Now where's my list?" she said.
Janie spotted a piece of notepaper on the counter. She handed it to Mrs. Harvey.
"Is this it?"
"That's it," Mrs. Harvey said, taking the list. "Now all I need is my ride."
"You're not driving yourself?" asked Janie.
"No. I have a few fairly large items to pick up from Tuthill's and one of our volunteers has offered her station wagon for the job."
The heavy front door of the library swung open and boots clattered on the tiles in the hall.
"That's her now!" said Janie.
"That should be 'That is she,' Janie," corrected Mrs. Harvey.
Copper Ryder bounded into the room, followed by Julie Ryder.
"Let's get going!" said Copper loudly.
Several patrons looked up from their reading or searching to see what the commotion was. Janie theatrically shushed Copper, then giggled. Copper covered her mouth with her hands in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harvey," she said.
Julie Ryder smiled.
"I hope we're not too late, Eileen," she said.
"Not at all, Julie. Let's be on our way."
End of Chapter 1
| Copyright © 2011 by Frank Knebel |