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In "Abracadabra", geeky, incompetent, amateur magician Gregg Gillstrom gained curious magical powers and extreme sexual drives from smoking grass found in an old basket that supposedly belonged to the Swami Pradesh. The Swami was an eastern mystic, a debauched enslaver of women and, it seems, the originator of the Indian Rope trick.
Using his powers, Gregg has turned to a career of crime and lust in collaboration with his girlfriend, Maxine.
Almost arrested and exposed during a robbery at the City Museum, Gregg and Maxine escaped using Gregg’s magical abilities, leaving him as determined as ever to follow in the footsteps of the Swami.
Now read on....
Gregg Gillstrom sat on the couch in his flat, flicking playing cards across the room to land in a top hat placed on the floor on the far side of the room.
Maxine scowled at him. "Do you have to do that?" she said, tetchily.
Gregg grunted incoherently. He reached for the TV remote and thumbed through a dozen or so channels in a vain search for entertainment.
"Oh, find something to do! I’ve got to deal with these bookings or ‘The Astounding Gillstrom’ won’t be giving any performances next month."
"I can’t see why we bother." Gregg sulky response did nothing to encourage Maxine’s sympathy. "We’ve cleared enough with the stuff we get from the robberies not to bother with working for a living for a while."
"We’ve talked about that. It’s the best cover you can have, unless you want the police turning up here after one of our jaunts. This way no one is surprised that you have money and we get to check out some interesting potential opportunities."
Gregg went on looking sulky as Maxine went back to her work. Then he jumped up and announced, "I’m going out."
Maxine let him go. There was no point in trying to talk to him when he was in this mood. She had learned that much at least in their short relationship. She went back to dealing with the bookings; Gregg’s magic shows had proved attractive to many of the local celebrities. And, they had certainly helped them to get to know plenty of people whose wealthy lifestyles were a real benefit to their own.
***** ***** ******
It was after midnight when Gregg returned. Maxine was sitting up in bed as he came back into the room and greeted his reappearance with a look of mild criticism, knowing that he was still finding it difficult to come to terms with his new powers and the problems and potential that they presented.
"All right," he said. "I’m sorry."
"Come to bed," said Maxine. "It’s OK."
Gregg stripped off and climbed in beside her. "Here," he said, reaching down to his jacket on the bedroom floor. "I got you a present."
When Gregg’s hand came back up, Maxine could see the twinkling of precious metals and jewels. "Oh. My. God," she said seeing the string of diamonds set in white gold. "It’s fabulous." Taking it from him she fastened the diamonds around her neck. A dark sapphire dangled from the centre of the necklace, nestling against her throat. She threw her arms around Gregg’s neck and kissed him. "It’s absolutely beautiful. Where on earth did you get it at this time of night?"
Gregg smiled.
Maxine suddenly realised what he had been up to. "Oh, no, I know what this is about!" She grabbed at the clasp of the necklace and pulled it from her neck. "This is just what you brought back; the fruits of your hocus pocus – or should it be hanky panky?"
"Hey babe," Gregg tried to offer a disarming grin, "don’t you like it?"
"That’s not the point. There’s some girl who’s paid for this by amusing you isn’t there? You didn’t buy it and I bet you didn’t just steal it either, did you? You’ve been doing your snake charming with ropes, haven’t you? Do you really think you can go out and do that and then come back here and charm me with this?"
"It’s nice, isn’t it? And, hey, I came back to you didn’t I?"
Maxine’s annoyance subsided as she picked up the necklace again. "Like I said, that’s not the point." She fastened it back in place, and slid her nakedness up against Gregg’s chest. "But I might let you off if you tell me exactly what you’ve been up to."
Gregg reached out and pulled her close, enjoying the sight of the necklace sparkling in the soft light of the bedroom as it lay against her unclothed body. "Well," he said stroking her back with his hand, "I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that the lady of the house was around when I broke in. She needed to be subdued... and restrained."
"Mmm," Maxine muttered as she pushed herself up against him. "Tell me more..."
"The woman was traumatised, Chief. Bound, gagged, assaulted, robbed. Something needs to be done. This is just the latest of this sort of attack, there have been – what four? Five? In the last few weeks."
"Five that we know of, Commissioner. Six, if you include the incident at the museum."
"Six then. They are all from the same hand if you ask me. Some sort of devious and mischievous criminal mind is at work here."
"Certainly that is our belief in the Department, Commissioner. It very much looks like the work of a single villain."
"Some sort of master criminal, I am sure, Chief. Which is why I have decided to bring in some help. In the face of superior villainy we need a superior response."
Chief O’Mara was very much afraid that he knew what was coming next. "Is that wise, Sir? I mean doesn’t it just make the problem worse? You’ve seen it in Gotham, And over in Metropolis. Sure they’ve got their super heroes but it seems to me that they’ve just pulled in more and more super villains? I’m not sure we want that, do we?"
"Tell me, Chief. After six of these events have you the slightest idea who is responsible? Any forensic evidence? Any witnesses able to describe the offender? Any circumstantial indications? Any intelligence at all?"
"It’s obviously a villain, Sir."
"Indeed, Chief. And from the comprehensive list of villains that have troubled our fair city at one time or other, have you a single one on your list that might fit the bill?"
The Chief felt uncomfortable. He scratched his head. "Well, Sir... No, Sir."
"No. And if you think the Mayor’s office is going to stand by while I have the same conversation with her, you’re wrong. The local papers are already calling for action. Look at this on Jameson’s rag: ‘Police Powerless : Commissioner Clueless’. Do you think that helps?"
"No Sir."
"No, Chief. That’s why I’d like you to give every cooperation to our visitor." The Commissioner reached for his intercom and buzzed through to his secretary. "Send in the young lady, please."
Chief O’Mara looked uncomfortable as the door opened.
"Ah, do come in," the Commissioner said with a smile.
His greeting was met by a hearty "Thanks, glad to be here," from the new arrival.
Chief O’Mara’s didn’t bother to hide his lack of enthusiasm for working with anything resembling a super hero and gave a acknowledging but hardly welcoming grunt. The girl that had come into the Commissioner’s office seemed to confirm all his worst fears - outlandish costume, extravagantly over endowed physique, and, of course, a mask.
"This is, sorry what was the name again," Commissioner Brown sometimes lacked a grasp of detail. "Ah, yes, Jungle Girl."
"Jungle Jane," the visitor corrected. "Jungle Girl is over on the west coast. She’s more your eco-warrior type, I’m more your crime fighter type..."
"Ah, sorry," said the Commissioner, "yes. Jungle Jane."
She offered her hand to Chief O’Mara. "Hullo Chief," she said. "I’m going to enjoy helping out."
O’Mara took her hand and shook it. Helping out, he thought to himself. Getting in the way more likely. And besides what good was a jungle girl here in the city? He took a close look at her. She was wearing khaki; a crumpled shirt was tied off beneath her improbably pneumatic breasts, leaving her midriff bare; a pair of shorts cut tight to her comfortably upholstered backside traced the lines of her crotch clearly; her calf length desert boots with enough of a platform sole to elevate her height to that of the Commissioner and Indiana Jones style hat was perched on the back of her head leaving the Chief with a view of a healthy, weather beaten, face half hidden by the girl’s eye mask.
"Sorry about the mask," she said, "secret identity and all that..."
O’Mara grunted. He didn’t care for these masked crime fighters. He knew what the public would say if his officers took to wearing masks. Why should the public be so keen on these amateurs?
"You’ll give Jane every co-operation, I’m sure," said the Commissioner."Why don’t you start off by showing her the files from the first cases?
"Right you are, Commissioner," O’Mara responded, trying to appear willing. "Won’t you come with me, Miss, err, Jungle?"
"Just Jane will, be fine Chief," the girl said following him out.
The Commissioner smiled as the two of them left the office. He was happy to have the well proportioned Jungle Jane around even if the Chief wasn’t. And it just might help to clear up these mysterious crimes.
*** *** ****
The ballroom at the City Concert Hall was filled with an impressive display of the local great and the good, responding to a call to open their wallets in favour of some deserving local charity or other.
Gregg Gillstrom had little enthusiasm for evcents like this. When it came to charity he felt that it best began at home and most specifically at the home of Gregg Gillstrom.
"Do you cultivate an air of inscrutability or does it just come naturally?"
Gregg Gillstrom looked around at the woman addressing him. He hadn’t seen her at any of these events before but with the amount of valuable jewellery hanging around her neck and dangling from her wrists he was asking himself why not. "It’s hard to say," Gregg responded, not keen to surrender his inscrutability whatever the cause. It wasn’t so long ago he was a geeky teenager rather than a criminal mastermind and he hadn’t quite got used to the transition.
"Sorry," she said, holding out a hand. "That was rude of me. "I’m Victoria Leon."
"Gregg Gillstrom," Gregg replied shaking her hand. "Have you known our hosts long?"
"No," she replied. "I’ve only been in the city since the weekend and I’m really here because of friends of friends. I’m still camping out in the Excelsior. How about you?"
‘Camping out’ was not a phrase usually associated with accommodation in the City’s best hotel, nor with a woman dressed as Victoria Leon was. Gregg shook his head. "No, I’m an impostor, I’m afraid." Victoria looked intrigued. "Nothing strange, I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint. I’m just here as the entertainment. After dinner you’ll be treated to a display of magic the like of which you won’t have ever seen before."
"Not really my thing," she said. "Cards, rabbits, that sort of thing?"
"Pretty much. But I’d still recommend it. If you’re around for a drink afterwards you can tell me what you think." Over Victoria’s shoulder Gregg caught a glimpse of Maxine raising an eyebrow at him. The last thing he needed before a performance was an earful from her. "But, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready."
"Of course," Victoria responded smiling. "It was nice to meet you. Even without the rabbits." She wandered off into the throng of other long-gowned women and tuxedo’ed gentlemen.
"A nice collection," Maxine began acidly as Gregg walked up to her.
"Very," Gregg responded.
"I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed, with your eyes down her cleavage and your tongue on the floor."
"I was being polite," Gregg said. Unlike you, he thought. "But you are right. I haven’t seen rocks like that for a while."
"Or hills?" Maxine could be quite sarcastic when she wanted to. "Never mind. It’s time to get ready."
"I know," said Gregg. "I’ll go and check things out now."
"And remember," Maxine added, "don’t get carried away this time. We don’t want to have to explain away any real magic, do we?"
Gregg nodded. It had been a mistake to use his powers to hypnotise an entire theatre while he got two women up on the stage to exchange their dresses so that when they (and the audience) woke up they found themselves wearing each other’s clothes. Questions had been asked about how he could possibly have done it and he’d only just got away with a shrugged "ah, professional secrets". Now he was more careful about his choice of tricks. Even so, there was at least something he had seen that he would be interested in making disappear – Victoria Leon’s jewellery.
****** ***** ***** *****
Victoria Leon was cursing her stupidity. She wasn’t sure even now how it had happened but one thing was certain. She had been robbed.
Firstly there was the open door of the empty safe and secondly there was the fact that she was laying on the floor of her hotel room half naked, bound and gagged.
She struggled to try to work out just what the thief had done to her. As she rolled back and forth on the carpet, she caught sight of herself in the long mirror door of one of the room’s closets. For a start the thief, whoever it was, had stripped off her dress. She wasn’t surprised, the long, vintage, Balenciaga gown was worth almost as much as the jewellery had been. It meant that now she was just wearing the strapless basque she’d had on underneath it. Her stockings had gone too, leaving the straps of her suspenders dangling uselessly. A glimpse in the mirror showed where her stockings were, one tied tightly around her wrists and the other around her ankles and then joined together to bend her backwards in a cruel hogtie.
It was several hours before the housekeeper came to fix the room and found the captive Victoria. By then she was stiff, aching and fuming. It was bad enough to be the victim of a crime like this; worse still when your alter ego was Jungle Jane, the crime fighter engaged to stop it happening.
****** ***** ***** *****
"Another attack, Jane," Commissioner Brown stuttered. "The poor girl! Lost all her jewellery. Left almost naked! Most distressing! And after that charity benefit when so many of the pillars of our city were doing all they could for the less fortunate than themselves. "
"Indeed, Commissioner," Jungle Jane replied. She was perched on the end of the Commissioner’s desk. Her long, tanned legs more than a slight distraction for him. Jane felt well able to speak for her secret other identity. "She is a resilient lady, though. I am sure she will recover quickly."
"But this is exactly the sort of thing that we do not need in the city."
"Of course, you can be assured that I will do what I can."
"Was Miss Leon able to provide you with any clues?"
"No," she said. "The theft seems to have followed the same pattern as the others with the victim unable to remember anything of what or how it happened. Apparently Miss Leon remembered watching the magician after the dinner. She remembered getting back to the hotel and going up in the lift. She remembered letting herself into her room. But after that it was all a blank until she woke up on the floor, practically naked and with all that jewellery missing. Whoever the thief is, they have a way of incapacitating their victim that left them with no memory of the circumstances and no real after effects. She hadn’t felt as though she had been drugged. In fact, the only real problems afterwards had been her aching limbs and jaw and the scores in her wrists and ankles from being tied."
For Jungle Jane, alias Victoria Leon, it was all a bit puzzling. What was more it had been a disappointing end to the evening. The magician had been quite interesting, she had thought and although Victoria didn’t feel that she really needed a romantic entanglement right now she wouldn’t have minded if they had ended up sharing a drink and who knew what else. Still nothing had happened and it looked like she would have needed to fight off his assistant anyway.
+++++ +++++ +++++
"What do they think she’s going to achieve?" Gregg tossed a copy of the morning’s paper across the table to Maxine.
A picture of a masked and confident Jungle Jane standing next to a smiling Commissioner Brown adorned the front page over the headline. "Cleaning Up The Concrete Jungle".
"It’s giving the papers something to print," Maxine laughed.
"Anyway I thought she was more worried about saving the planet then trying to solve crimes."
"No," said Maxine. "That’s Jungle Girl; this is Jungle Jane. If you’re going to be a criminal mastermind you’ll have to keep track of these things."
Gregg grunted. The whole thing was an unnecessary irritation, he thought. Things had been quite easy up until now. The arrival of a costumed crime fighter would mean he had to take more care with his jaunts. Still, he thought, maybe he ought to try to meet up with this new adversary. Certainly there wasn’t anything to object to in the way she filled her shirt and shorts, if the picture in the paper was anything to go by.
Maxine caught his lascivious glance. "Oh, no," she said, "you don’t need to pay that much attention to her!"
"You can’t have it both ways," Gregg laughed. "I’m the follower of a sex-obsessed Indian swami, what do you expect?"
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© Freddie Clegg 2010
All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or reposted without permission
All characters fictitious
Email: freddie_clegg@yahoo.com
Web group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/