BDSM Library - Hocus Pocus

Introduction

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....

Chapter 1: Misdirection

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..."

Chapter 2: Police Enquiries

"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?"

.........................................................................

All characters fictitious

Email: freddie_clegg@yahoo.com

Web group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

Chapter 3: A Lull In Operations

"Well, I’m most impressed, Jungle Jane." The Commissioner was being fulsome in his praise and Jane certainly wasn’t objecting even if he always managed a sleazy leer on his lips whenever she was around. "Apart from that one incident on the day you arrived we haven’t had any more of these mysterious robberies. Your presence is obviously having the desired effect."

That wasn’t how some of the local papers saw it, though. Some had remarked that it was odd that the robberies had stopped once she’d been employed. They’d suggested that she’d carried out the robberies to create an opportunity for herself and that she was taking the Commissioner for a sucker. Commissioner Brown’s tributes didn’t make it any easier for Jane. She knew that Chief O’Mara wasn’t keen on her being around and in reality she hadn’t made any progress on identifying just who was responsible, much less succeeding in trapping them.

"That’s all very well, Commissioner, but I want results. I want this criminal caught, behind bars and I want his ill gotten gains recovered." The group was in the Mayor’s office and the Mayor was making her views very clear. "And," she turned to the Commissioner, "so do you if you want to avoid any more of this..." She tossed a newspaper onto the table in front of Commissioner Brown. A cartoon showed a caricature of a pneumatic Jungle Jane swinging through the trees, clutching a chimpanzee with the Commissioner’s face under her arm, pursuing a stripe-jerseyed criminal. Jane could hardly stop herself laughing, it was a very good likeness of the Commissioner.

"And I wouldn’t be smirking either, if I were you," Mayor Dorothea Reynolds snapped at Jane. "I thought you super heroes were supposed to have all the answers. Why haven’t we got any closer to nailing this perp yet? Or does your contribution amount to swanning around in that outfit looking decorative?"

"Hey!" Jane started. She was about to ask whose side the Mayor was on but then realised that she had a point. She took a deep breath before putting forward her plan. "Not at all, Mayor Reynolds," Jane said standing up and squaring up to the other three. "I have been working on a plan to trap whoever it is that is responsible for these crimes by luring them into a trap. Something that this thief cannot resist."

"Good," said Dorothea. "So, some action at least." Commissioner Brown and Chief O’Mara looked puzzled as well they might. Jane had been thinking about her plan for a whole ten seconds.

It was obvious that the Mayor was hoping to hear more than Jane’s ambitions for her plan. Jane improvised. "You’ll remember the thief’s last victim, Victoria Leon?" The assembled group nodded. "Well, I believe she might be persuaded to act as a decoy, make some statement about not being deterred from wearing her jewels by a common thief, goad our criminals into acting when we can be ready for them."

Dorothea looked doubtful. "I’m not sure it’s wise to put a member of the public in danger. Besides a girl like that who spends all her time in clubs and at parties isn’t likely to be very public spirited, is she? What makes you think you can persuade her?"

"I’m with you, Mayor," Brown nodded sycophantically.

Jane could see she could expect no support from the Commissioner and Chief O’Mara wasn’t rushing forward either, but she pressed on. "I think you’re being a bit hard on Ms Leon. She was pretty angry about the robbery and she wants to get her own back."

"More vigilantes!" O’Mara exploded.

"No, Chief. This would be a police action, your men would be in control. Ms Leon and I would just have to drive the thief into the net."

"Is this some ‘white hunter’ strategy?"

"Absolutely, Commissioner, just leave it to me."

Chapter 4 : Live Bait

Gregg Gillstrom was getting used to the dreams. It was Mandrake again, this time, goading him on from the top of a flight of curving stairs that seemed to lead from nowhere to nowhere. When he woke he was covered in sweat and laying half out of the bed. Maxine was standing in the doorway. "Are you getting up today? Or are you staying there."

Gregg grunted and staggered off towards the bathroom, scratching himself as he went.

Maxine called after him. "You don’t seem to have discouraged that last one you robbed."

"Whungh?" Gregg grunted, sticking his head around the bathroom door, his face wreathed in shaving cream.

"Your ‘date’ after the charity dance. She’s in the morning paper saying criminals can’t be allowed to terrorise upright citizens."

"That’ll be the mayor, trying to reassure the public." Gregg emerged from the bathroom and took the paper from Maxine. He looked at the picture over the article. "Victoria Leon. So that’s who she is."

"Daughter of an explorer apparently. He made his money prospecting for diamonds in Africa. She’s working her way through it."

"Perhaps we should help her?"

"Oh, I’m sure you’d like to get to grips with her again after what you said about your last encounter."

"That’s not the point." Maxine raised an eyebrow but Gregg pressed on. "It’s not. Look, we’ll turn her over properly. You can come along and make sure I behave. It’ll set the police and mayor at one another and discredit this Jungle Girl."

"Jungle Jane."

"Jungle Jane, whatever. Anyway, it can only be to the good. Divide and conquer, eh?"

"You think there are more goodies to be had from Miss Leon, then?"

"I’m sure. You’re not telling me that she only had those few pieces in the safe in her room? That will have just been the stuff she was thinking of wearing that night. There will be plenty more."

"And she’ll be wearing it tomorrow." Maxine drew a ring around an article in the paper and tossed it to Gregg. "Gala Dinner on behalf of the Mayor’s Police Defence Fund."

Gregg looked at the article. "How come I’m not performing at this one? I thought you were determined that I’d do every society gig going."

"Don’t be difficult, Gregg. It just means we’ve got time to plan things out properly."

+++++++ +++++++ +++++++

Jungle Jane was holding forth for the Commissioner’s benefit. "Here’s the plan," she said. "This mysterious criminal will be unable to resist the lure of Ms Leon’s jewellery. She has agreed to make it pretty clear to the press that the jewels she’s wearing to the dinner are worth over a million dollars. The idea is that your officers will provide an escort to and from the dinner but we will leave the thief one window of opportunity."

Commissioner Brown nodded sagaciously. "I see." Chief O’Mara looked more sceptical. "And then...?"

"The thief’s only chance will be to stage another robbery in the hotel. Your men will have it surrounded. As soon as he makes his move, he’ll be unable to escape."

Brown turned to his chief. "What do you think, Chief?"

"It just might work," O’Mara said, scratching his head as he stared down at a map of the city on his desk. "The hotel is on a block of its own. We can certainly have it surrounded. Our criminal is a devious one though; we can’t offer Ms Leon any guarantees for her safety."

"That’s all right, Chief," Jungle Jane responded. "When she comes back to the hotel, I’ll take her place. The thieves will have to deal with me, not her. After all that’s what I’m here for." The Commissioner looked sceptical and so did Chief O’Mara but their uncertainty only served to encourage Jane. "You organise your escort and the cordon, Chief, and I’ll see to our mysterious thief."

+++++++ +++++++ +++++++

"You know of course that this could be a trap?" Maxine was looking at the location of the Excelsior. "The police could easily have this place surrounded." Gregg nodded. He had a beatific smile on his face, the result of finishing a substantial spliff. "Do you have to smoke that while we’re trying to plan this?"

Gregg nodded again. "It helps me to focus my powers," he said, sitting himself down in a lotus position in the middle of the room. "Ommm," he began to chant as Maxine looked on in irritation. "Ommmm."

"I think I prefer the lust crazed, kleptomaniac to the eastern mystic," Maxine commented, acidly.

They are the same thing, Gregg thought to himself as he relaxed under the influence of the spliff. His friends Dr Strange and Mandrake were here again, locked in some curious battle, hurling spells against an unseen adversary, the air charged with glowing balls of light and spinning vortexes of smoke. Across the floor slithered the snakes with which he was now so familiar. He smiled again. He knew exactly how he would part Ms Leon from her jewels.

.........................................................................

All characters fictitious

Email: freddie_clegg@yahoo.com

Web group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

Chapter 5 : Hotel Heist

"All right, all right," Maxine hissed. "You know I don’t like heights."

Gregg helped Maxine to clutch on to the rope that stood stiffly at attention beside the wall of the Excelsior Hotel. "Come on you managed it in the museum," he urged.

"Yes, but then the police were chasing me, not looking the other way," she nodded towards where one of Chief O’Mara’s cordon was standing looking vacant, having been bemused by a flash of the ruby set in Gregg’s turban.

"It’s not far. Just up to that balcony. Then we’re in."

With Gregg’s help Maxine managed to make it onto the balcony and on into one of the hotel’s corridors. Gregg was with her at once, hoisting the rope up behind him and his small wicker basket as well. "Suite 1222," said Gregg, leading the way towards the lift.

"Oh yes," Maxine responded sarcastically, "I’d forgotten you knew exactly where to find her."

Gregg let the remark pass. They emerged from the lift. "Now do you remember the next bit?"

"Yes," sighed Maxine. "And I kinda feel this is playing to your enthusiasms as well." Gregg carefully opened the door to one of the service rooms.

One of the hotel’s housekeeping staff, sitting in the room, looked up as they entered. "Can I help you, Sir?" she asked.

"Yes," said Gregg. "You could just look at this for a moment." He pointed to the ruby and as the girl’s gaze travelled upwards towards it she was at once transfixed. "And now you can take off your uniform."

"Yes, of course, Sir," the girl responded compliantly, unbuttoning the pale blue and white dress that she wore.

Gregg watched appreciatively as she stripped to her underwear. Maxine looked on with barely concealed irritation. "Right," said Gregg. "You get into this and I’ll take care of her."

"I’ll bet," said Maxine, exchanging her concubine’s robes for the maid’s dress. The girl sat passively on one of the laundry hampers that stood on one side of the service room.

"So just take this basket and leave it in a closet in Suite 1222. Leave the door open slightly. Then all we have to do is to wait until Ms Leon comes back and we’ll make our move."

Maxine took the basket, got the maid’s pass key from the pocket of her dress and headed towards Victoria’s suite. Gregg set to making sure that the maid wouldn’t raise the alarm even if she did come out of her ruby induced trance. Luckily the service room had plenty of materials for him to use. The power cord from one of the cleaners gave him the perfect thing to fasten her wrists and ankles, a cleaning cloth pushed into her mouth made an effective gag and a strip torn from a spare sheet was perfect to keep the cloth in place. Gregg looked down at the helpless, conscious but compliant girl. He was pleased with his handiwork, pleased with the way that the girls white bra and panties contrasted with her olive skin pleased with the way that her almond eyes looked up at him from above the strip of cloth that gagged her. It was more than he could do to keep his hands off her smooth belly and small tits. He pulled her bra to one side exposing one of her dark brown nipples. He was about to slide her panties down over her hips when he heard the sounds of Maxine returning. Deciding that this was not the time for a row about his sexual predilections, Gregg picked up the girl and pushed her into one of the laundry hampers.

Maxine reappeared. "Can I get out of this dumb maid’s dress now?" she said.

"Sure, honey," Gregg responded. "But you know I like a girl in uniform."

"I thought out of uniform was more your sort of thing. Where is she anyway?"

Gregg nodded to the laundry hamper and then said, "Well we should expect Miss Leon back shortly."

As if on cue, the sound of police sirens heralded the return of Victoria Leon to the hotel, under police escort. Chief O’Mara was feeling relieved. At least nothing had happened at the dinner. Now it was all down to Jungle’s Jane’s plan.

Victoria headed back to her room where she was planning to change into her Jungle Jane outfit, ready to confront the robbers when they tried whatever it was they were planning to attempt. From their hiding place, Gregg and Maxine heard her returning.

"What now," said Maxine as she changed back into her eastern robes, feeling immediately more comfortable.

"Now," said Gregg, "we need a little magic. This may take a few minutes." He sat down, cross legged, on the floor of the service room, a look of intense concentration on his face. He closed his eyes. His brow furrowed. The girl in the laundry hamper gave a quiet moan. Gregg shook his head, screwed his eyes up and pressed his fingers against his temples. Maxine stood by, intrigued by his efforts. Eventually, Gregg relaxed and got to his feet. "There," he said. "Ms Leon will be ready for us."

The two of them headed out into the corridor. "What was in that basket, then," Maxine asked.

"Oh, just a few snakes .. err ... ropes," Gregg answered with a grin.

"Snakes!" Maxine wasn’t impressed by the idea that she had been walking around carrying a basket of snakes.

"Don’t worry about it," Gregg reassured her. "They were completely under my control."

They reached the door to Victoria’s suite and Maxine let them both in.

"Shit!" Gregg exclaimed as soon as he saw the room. "This isn’t right. Where’s the Leon bitch?"

It was certainly true that Victoria Leon was nowhere to be seen. Her dress had been discarded on the bed but the only other person in the room besides Maxine and Gregg was a helpless Jungle Jane, struggling against ropes that had her tied to a chair and mumbling into a great knot of rope that filled her mouth.

"Did you do that?" Maxine asked.

"Err, yes, but..." Gregg responded, puzzled by the absence of the woman they had come to rob.

"This looks like it’s been set up as some sort of trap. I think we’d better go. The jewels," Maxine nodded towards the gaping door of the safe, "don’t look like they are here any more than Ms Leon is."

Gregg and Maxine headed for the staircase. As he glanced down to the street through a window, Gregg saw dozens of policemen, circling the building. Maxine saw it too. "What are we going to do? We’re trapped!"

"Don’t panic," Gregg urged. "Come on back to Victoria’s apartment." He took Maxine by the hand and led her back. Victoria was still struggling on the far side of the room but showed no sign of being aware of their arrival. "Right," Gregg said. "Sit down on the floor."

"What!" Maxine exclaimed.

"I’m going to tie you up. Well, actually I’m going to tie us up..."

"Are you mad?"

"No. Listen to me. The police are looking for robbers not more victims. If they come in here and find us tied up they’ll think we were victims of the robbers too. It’s perfect. Just remember when you get rescued, you can’t remember what happened, anything after we left the dinner. Our khaki clad crusader here will probably assume she asked us back here to help or something."

"But she’s not been befuddled by your ruby or whatever it is that it does. She’s just tied up."

"Not until now," Gregg said, as he waved his ruby in front of Jungle Jane’s eyes. The masked crime fighter stopped struggling gazing out at the room blankly.

Maxine looked sceptical but as the sirens outside became louder she finally agreed. "All right. Get on with it." She watched in fascination as ropes snaked up from the floor and wound themselves around her ankles and wrists. Another length formed itself into her gag, the knot of rope filling her mouth painfully. "Ngg humph hhnngnn," she grunted, but Gregg couldn’t make out what she was saying and set to convincing the ropes to wind themselves around his own limbs.

In moments Gregg was as helpless as Maxine and Jungle Jane; Jane helplessly trussed on the chair, Maxine unable to move on the floor with Gregg alongside her. They were still there when the police got bored with waiting to apprehend the thieves two hours later.

All characters fictitious

Nor reposting without permission

Chapter 6 : Apologies & Suspicions

"Well, I’m very sorry Mr Gillstrom. It’s most unfortunate that you got caught up in this. Isn’t it Commissioner?" The Mayor, seated behind the large desk in her office at City Hall, looked across at Brown with a furious scowl.

The Commissioner looked uncomfortable. "Yes, of course mayor. I do hope, Mr Gillstrom, that you will accept the police department’s apologies. And those of Jungle Jane as well."

Jane was standing by with her arms folded looking every bit as uncomfortable as the Commissioner.

"Well, I’m sure it’s no one’s fault," Gregg smiled. "Mistakes are made sometimes. This criminal is obviously very cunning. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. I didn’t remember anything though. Nor did Ms Connor." Maxine gave the same regretful nod.

Jungle Jane looked embarrassed. The Commissioner looked squashed. Chief O’Hara looked puzzled by the whole affair. The Mayor gripping a paper coffee cup in her hand crushed it in frustration. For the first time Gregg noticed Mayor Dorothea Reynolds as more than a sober suit and decided that she was worth noticing. True she must have been almost fifty but she had taken care of herself. She’d not bothered with surgery or botox but the lines that she did have simply gave character to her face. She’d gained a few pounds down the years but somehow she carried the extra flesh well. Gregg found himself developing a less than civic interest in the holder of the office of Mayor.

Maxine noticed Gregg’s appraising look. "No. Quite," she said, as keen to distract Gregg as she was to get the two of them out of City Hall. "It’s just unfortunate that we got caught up in whatever the thieves had planned. You’ve obviously got a lot to discuss we’d better leave you to it."

After Maxine and Gregg had left the office. The Mayor sat drumming her fingers on the desk. "Well what next after this farce? Any more terrific plans to apprehend these villains? Or were you hoping that your magician friend might persuade them to disappear?"

"No Mayor," Jane apologised. "But I think I have some clues to follow up."

"Well get on with it. You were supposed to be apprehending the villains not getting trussed up with some more victims. I am really needing some results soon. Do you have any idea how much the police overtime cost for that exercise?"

"I have the figure here, Mayor," Commissioner Brown began.

Dorothea’s withering look stopped him in his tracks. "A rhetorical question, Brown," she said.

"Ah," said the Commissioner, embarrassed as the Chief, Jungle Jane and himself took their leave. "Still at least Jane managed to save Ms Leon from the thief’s attentions."

"Indeed, Commissioner," Chief O’Mara replied, "even if she didn’t manage to save herself. Has anyone spoken to Ms Leon since this farce? After all her help we’ve got nothing to show for it. She must think we’re complete fools and I’m not sure she’s wrong."

"I’m sure she understands," Jungle Jane said. "I spoke to her afterwards and her main concern was that I hadn’t been hurt." Jane still found it slightly ridiculous talking of her alter ego in the third person.

*** *** *** *** ***

Back in her flat, Jungle Jane stripped off her costume. The down side of her crime fighting persona was that she spent all day in sweaty khaki shorts and a bush shirt whatever the weather. She had three changes of costume but it was hard to make sure she always had one clean and ready to put on. Bruce Wayne’s Alfred must have spent all day pressing tights and capes, she thought. Jane headed for the shower and emerged, towel clad, as heiress Victoria Leon, trying to puzzle out what had happened. "There’s more to all this than there seems," she said to herself. "Where did that magician and his assistant come from? I wouldn’t have invited them back here whatever. Apart from anything else, there would have far too much risk that they might learn of my secret identity. That Gregg hadn’t seemed to show any interest in me, well Victoria, at the charity dinner so why was he round here last might with his assistant or wife or whoever she is."

She turned on her laptop. "Who needs a Bat-Computer when you’ve got Google," she chuckled as she keyed in a few searches and brought up a history of the performances of ‘The Amazing Gillstrom’. There were a few coincidences. He had performed at places that had later been robbed but he’d performed at plenty of other places too. And he hadn’t performed at the Museum. He didn’t seem to have had anything to do with that so.... It was then that she pulled up a press article with a picture which showed the Director of the Museum standing on the steps outside. Beside him was, without doubt, Maxine Connor. It didn’t take Victoria / Jane too long to discover that Maxine had worked at the City Museum before she had been fired. She would have had plenty of motive to get even with Aaron Rodwell and if that had been her aim she had certainly succeeded. Rodwell had been sent packing by the trustees in an attempt to save face after they had all been found naked at the Museum Dinner.

It still didn’t explain how the robberies were being committed though. And if Maxine and Gregg were responsible how come they had been left tied up with her? Victoria paced up and down. As she passed the door to her apartment she trod on something slimy with her naked foot.

"Oh, gross!" she exclaimed, reaching for a paper towel to wipe her foot. As she did so she caught a burst of a pungent, half-remembered smell; one that took her back to her childhood in the jungles with her father. She lifted the paper to her nose and sniffed again. It was unmistakeable. "Snake stools! Why the fuck has a snake been shitting in my hall? And where has it gone? Has that disappeared too?" She stopped and thought. Suddenly a number of things were starting to come together in Victoria / Jane’s head. A magician that looked like an Indian snake charmer, an assistant that had a very good motive for destroying the career of the Museum Director, the fact that the Museum robbery had involved the jewel being lifted from its protective snake pit. Somehow, Jungle Jane felt, she had to find out a whole lot more about Mr Gillstrom.

All characters fictitious

Chapter 7 : Mayor Making

Gregg was telling himself that it was all part of the plan to part Victoria Leon from some, well most, of her wealth but, he supposed, if he was honest there might be a bit more to it than that. There wasn’t any real reason why the Mayor would have anything on file about Ms Leon but the opportunity to get to grips with Dorothea Reynolds was just too great a temptation. From where he sat outside City Hall, the only light still burning was in the Mayor’s office. The effects of the spliff he was enjoying seemed even more intense than usual. Since the first time that he had inhaled the curious herb he had found in the old basket from the antique shop each subsequent joint had given him better, more intense, more mmmmm, highs. Somehow it was as though his body had tuned into to the effects of the drug as a result of his find. It didn’t matter if it was good stuff or the cheapest dog ends of seeds and stalks, it was as though the drug’s effects belonged to him. He was used to the hallucinations now; coruscating balls of light, the strange spiralling clouds of smoke, the presence of his guides, Strange and Mandrake. They were like good friends, steering him towards the solutions to his problems. He looked up at the light from the mayor’s office, the drug seemed to magnify the light until it shone like a beacon calling him. He walked towards the building in answer to it.

The dazzling power of the ruby let him pass the night porter and up into the building. As he approached Dorothea’s office he could hear the sounds of two women arguing.

“I really don’t care. This needs to be done tonight!” Dorothea’s voice was obviously tense.

“But Ms Reynold’s I’m supposed to be meeting someone later. I should have left an hour ago.” The other woman, evidently the Mayor’s secretary, was trying hard not to lose her temper.

“Well you’re late already so it won’t matter. I need these papers before you go.”

Gregg felt almost obliged to interrupt the two of them in order to prevent them coming to blows. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said.

The two women span around, startled, to see Gregg’s twinkling ruby shining darkly at them. They fell at once under its spell, gazing deep into the gem as it turned in Gregg’s hand.

Gregg was pleased to see that the ruby was as effective as ever. “I’d like you to raise your hands please. You’re being threatened with a gun. A masked man has it pressed hard against your belly,” Gregg said quietly to the mayor’s secretary. “And you too, mayor. Feel the chill of the pistol’s steel barrel against you. Stare into your attacker’s masked face, his cold dark eyes.”

As Gregg conjured the image intended to keep the Mayor and her secretary motionless while he searched the office, he suddenly became aware that his suggestions were not in the least unwelcome.

“Mmm,” the Mayor said, parting her lips slightly as she raised her arms obediently. Her jacket fell open as her hands reached her shoulders. Gregg could clearly see that her nipples were rigidly erect beneath her blouse. It was as much as Gregg could do to keep his mind on his mission. “Kinky Mrs Mayor,” Gregg thought to himself as he left the two women standing under the imagined threat of the gunmen. He made his way to the filing cabinet and quickly rifled through it. The mayor might be a bitch of a boss, Gregg thought, but at least it makes things easy for me. The files were well organised and it took him no time to find the police investigation records into the mystery robberies and the theft from Ms Leon. It was obvious from the files that the police had very little idea of who was responsible and what was more the memos on file made it clear that there were plenty of people that were annoyed about the interference of Jungle Jane as well. With all that going on, Gregg didn’t reckon that he had much to worry about.

Having dealt with the work, Gregg turned to thoughts of pleasure. The mayor and her secretary were still standing where Gregg had left them. The secretary’s look of fear told Gregg that for her, the illusion of the masked gunman was as real as ever. The mayor’s moist lipped muttering told him the same thing. Taking advantage of the situation, Gregg took the opportunity to explore the contents of the mayor’s blouse, unbuttoning the silk shirt to reveal her well rounded breasts, held in check by a well boned brassiere. “They shouldn’t be restrained like that; they should be free,” Gregg thought, taking pity on the two fleshy globes. A pair of scissors from the secretary’s desk let him snip through the mayor’s bra between the two cups as she stood there, motionless and unresisting. The mayor moaned quietly as her breasts fell free. Gregg grinned, looking with pleasure at the well rounded breasts and the dark aureoles that surrounded her stiff nipples. Mischievously, Gregg reached behind the mayor’s back to unfasten her skirt. It fell around her ankles, giving Gregg a view of the mayor’s stockings and tightly cut silk panties. He leant forward to whisper in the mayor’s ear. “That gun,” he said. “The masked man has slid it down so the barrel is pressing against your crotch. It’s right up against you, practically fucking you.”

“Ahh,” the mayor responded, much to Gregg’s amusement, standing on tip toe, in response to the imagined intrusive barrel.

Gregg turned to the secretary. It was clear that she was having much the worse time. She was wide-eyed in near panic as she stood biting her lip; the masked gunman, in her mind’s eye, pressing his weapon against her. Gregg cut his way into her underwear too but found himself a little disappointed after the mayor’s ample charms. The mayor’s secretary was much younger and slimmer but Dorothea’s mature body had more to appeal to Gregg’s tastes. In the end, Gregg decided that he had amused himself sufficiently and that there was little more to be learned from the mayor’s files. He told the two women that they would be held at gunpoint for another 30 minutes and then slipped away.

He was enjoying another spliff in the park across from City Hall when the thirty minutes ran out. The arrival of the police cars with their flashing, pulsing, beacons contributed a psychedelic light show to Gregg’s amused observation of the results of his exercise. As he listened to the sirens and leant back on the park bench, dreamily absorbing the colours of the lights he found himself toying with the pack of playing cards he kept in his pocket to practice with. Too much light, he thought to himself. It was as he tossed one card lazily from his right hand to his left that he thought for no reason he could explain, why can’t I make you disappear?

The card obligingly vanished.

Gregg more than a little confused by the combination of light, sirens, hashish and circumstance, looked down at the floor looking for it. It was nowhere to be seen. “Ridiculous! Where’s it gone?” he muttered, getting down on his hands and knees and peering under the bench. He remembered the disappearing trick that he’d managed at the top of the snake charmer’s rope in the museum. It was then that he’d first asked himself where things go when they disappear. That had been intentional though. Surely you couldn’t have something vanish just by tossing it up in the air.

He did it again with another card with the same result, increasing his confusion. Where had it gone?

Shaking his head, he got to his feet, uncertain of what to make of the latest discovery of his powers. He went to put the rest of the cards back in his pocket, only to find the two that had disappeared. Maybe that’s it, he thought, that’s where things go when they disappear. They go where they ought to be or they go where you want them to be. It was all very odd. And now he just felt hungry.

***** ****** ****** ******

Three blocks away, in a corner of the City Zoo, Jungle Jane looked up at the sound of police sirens. The zoo was closed for the night but that hadn’t prevented Jane from climbing in to find a little quiet for a think. For a moment she thought she had been discovered but then realised that the cars weren’t stopping anywhere near her. She was sitting opposite the Orang-Utang cage, staring at the ginger furred primate within. She often found it more helpful to talk to apes when she needed to think. At least they heard her out. The Orang-Utang didn’t seem very engaged in the conversation, though. He was more interested in picking something from his fur, but Jungle Jane didn’t mind.

“So, it looks like this Gillstrom is involved in some way. Or maybe it’s the Connor woman. The trouble is I can’t see how they could be doing what they are doing and every time we try to spring a trap it just seems like they tip toe out of it. I can’t even work out how I ended up tied up in the hotel.”

“Oook,” the Orang responded sympathetically.

****** ****** ******

“Do I know you from somewhere?” The owner of the harbourside junk shop peered at Gregg as he, in his turn, rummaged through a collection of vaguely eastern looking artefacts in search of stage props for his act.

Gregg didn’t much like being recognised, there was always the worry that someone would remember him being somewhere that he wasn’t supposed to have been. There wasn’t any point denying it, though; that just seem to encourage people to speculate all the more. “Maybe,” he said, non-commitally.

“Oh, yes. I remember. You’re that magician, bought that hamper off me. Any use was it?”

“Sort of,” Gregg replied. He certainly didn’t feel able to share the fact that it had changed his life in the way that it had. “Have you anything similar? I’m always keen to find stuff that might look good on stage.”

The man thought for a minute, tugging on a strand of hair from his sideburns as he stared into space at a point vaguely over Gregg’s shoulder. Gregg found it unsettling. “I dunno. Nothing quite like that. Got some other magic props though. Nice cabinet over there, usual sort of thing, mirrored panels, hatch at the back. Make a nice high spot for an act with a bit of patter.”

I really need a disappearing cabinet, Gregg thought to himself, when I can make things disappear for real. On the other hand, he considered, it might come in very useful. If I can really make things disappear what better way to stop people discovering it than by doing it with something that everyone knows is a trick. He grinned, amused by the idea of a classic piece of magical misdirection. “I might be interested” he said to the shop’s owner. “Let’s have a look at it.”

Chapter 8: Excelsior Encounter

“I felt that the least I could do would be to buy you a drink,” Victoria Leon had called Gregg Gillstrom to apologise for what had happened to him and Maxine in her hotel room. “I mean after you two and poor Jungle Jane ended up as the victims of whoever was trying to rob me.”

“That’s OK,” Gregg dissembled, “I’m not even sure why we were there. But,” he said, recognising the opportunity to find out a little more about the heiress, “I’d be happy to take you up on that offer of a drink. Maxine’s not free tonight but I’d be happy to.”

“Well, as long as you’re sure she won’t mind. Why don’t we meet in the bar of the Excelsior? How about 7 o’clock?”

“Yes, that’ll be fine,” said Gregg.

Maxine’s reaction was that it was anything but fine. “I’m getting pretty pissed at the way you keep finding excuses to go off and meet with women.”

“It’s the job, lover,” Gregg protested. “You keep the ‘Astounding Gillstrom’ gigs coming in and I’ll look after the rest of it. I’d still like to get my hands on some of Ms Leon’s money.”

“That’s not all you want to get your hands on,” Maxine responded sulkily. Gregg didn’t bother to answer but he allowed himself an inner smirk, Maxine wasn’t wrong.

As Gregg arrived at the Excelsior, he saw Victoria in conversation with Dorothea Reynolds. The mayor got up as he arrived. “Mr Gillstrom,” she acknowledged. “I can’t stop I’m afraid. Enjoy your evening.”

Gregg watched her go and then sat down to join Victoria.

“She’s a bit of a stuffed shirt, isn’t she?” Victoria said with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Gregg, thinking that her shirt was certainly well stuffed, although not in the way Victoria meant.

“You don’t think there’s a passionate soul beating beneath that grey suit do you?” Victoria giggled. “It doesn’t bear thinking about!”

Gregg was enjoying himself already. Victoria summoned a uniformed waiter with a practiced wave. “What would you like?” she asked. “I’m on mojito’s.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Gregg responded as Victoria nodded at the waiter. He could, he thought, get used to this lifestyle without any difficulty and it was obvious that Victoria already had. As she sipped her own drink he allowed himself the opportunity to work out just how much of daddy’s fortune Victoria was wearing. Her gold necklace alone looked as though it would pay for a pretty good car, and her earrings were big enough to provide the wheels. Victoria had the sort of careful grooming that most girls would only aim to achieve for a special occasion. Flawless make up, neatly coiffed hair, nail’s precisely painted and buffed to a gleaming shine. It was her outfit that impressed Gregg most though. The jacket and skirt seemed to be made in some sort of tapestry material, with a classical pattern woven into it. The skirt was short and the jacket fitted snugly so there wasn’t that much cloth but even so it looked to Gregg as though the fabric had been stolen from some European chateau.

“Do you like the suit?” Victoria’s question broke into Gregg’s train of thought.

“Sorry,” he said, as the waiter arrived with their drinks. “Was I staring?” Victoria swapped her now empty glass for afresh mojito.

“It’s all right. It’s one of my favourite outfits. It’s French. They copied the design from one of the Gobelins tapestries in the palace of Versailles.”

“I’ll try not to lose my head over it. Cheers!” Gregg lifted his glass. “And thanks for the invitation.” Gregg was enjoying himself. Quite apart from the agreeable view of Victoria’s legs as she sat back on the couch opposite him, the drink was good and the company was pleasant.

“How did you get into the whole magic business then?” Victoria took a sip of her drink as she looked directly at him over the rim of her glass. Something about her directness made Gregg feel that her interest was more than the usual social chit-chat that you might expect from a wealthy debutante.

“It kept me out of mischief while I was at college,” Gregg replied. That was true – at least up until the point he had discovered the basket in the antique shop. “Then I discovered I had a bit of a talent. Maxine took over the business management and keeps me on the straight and narrow.”

“Is that from a personal or a professional perspective?”

You’re flirting with me, thought Gregg. What’s all this about? “Professional,” he lied, telling himself that he had better be careful.

“Well,” she said, “I’ve heard a lot about your skills. And like I said, I’ve never really been that impressed by conjuring tricks. Why don’t you see if you can change my mind?”

He very nearly suggested that he should try to charm her knickers off her but resisted the thought. “All right,” Gregg said. “Give me one of your earrings for a moment.”

“All right,” Victoria said, unfastening it. “Be careful though, it’s Zimbabwean gold. The copper gives it that reddish colour.”

And makes it look so good against the strawberry highlights in your hair, Gregg thought. “Don’t worry I’ll take great care of it. Look,” he said placing it in the upturned palm of his hand. “It won’t even be out of your sight.” He placed his other hand over the top. Victoria was staring straight at his hands. “I couldn’t possibly do anything with it, could I?”

“Not while I’m watching you this closely,” Victoria smiled.

“That’s all right then,” said Gregg as he took his hand away to reveal his empty palm.

Victoria was dumb struck. “But, you couldn’t! I mean I was watching all the time. It can’t have? How did you?”

“Professional secrets, I’m afraid,” Gregg laughed. “But it’s not lost. Look in your handbag.”

Victoria grabbed the bag from the couch. There in one of the zipped compartments in the inside of the bag was her earring safe and sound. It was hard to say which was more remarkable the disappearance from Gregg’s hand or the reappearance several feet away, inside her bag. “All right,” Victoria laughed. “I will admit to being impressed. That was extraordinary.”

“Well can I ask you a question then?” Gregg was keen to move to discussion around to something where he might find out a little more about Victoria and her wealth.

“Of course.” She downed her drink with a flourish that impressed Gregg. “Another?”

Gregg nodded, telling himself that he had better not try to keep up with Victoria when it came to alcohol. “Well,” he said, “you don’t seem to have been in the least bit phased what’s happened to you since you came to the city. Robberies, dramatic appeals to people not to be intimidated by criminals and then another attack that was certainly targeted at you. Is all the money worth it?”

“Oh, the money doesn’t worry me! In fact I can’t really get my hands on it for another year. The whole thing is run by trustees until I’m twenty five. They seem happy to dole it out though – and it keeps them in a job. Daddy disappeared when I was about ten but he’d discovered the diamond mines by then and I’ve never had to worry since. I’ve no idea how much I’m worth.”

“But all these attacks? Robberies?” Another round of drinks appeared and Victoria leapt on hers eagerly.

“I was brought up in Africa. When I was small my Dad caught me once lapping milk from a bowl alongside a lion cub he was fostering. You were more worried about the animals and the insects than anything else that might happen. Once you’ve faced down a hippo, a few snakes won’t bother you.” Gregg noticed that she seemed to catch herself before starting again. “Real snakes in the grass these thieves. We had a shotgun behind the door for them on the farm but I suppose that sort of thing is frowned on here.”

“I think it probably is,” Gregg smiled taking a sip of his drink. “Tell me about Africa,” he said, “it must have been an extraordinary place to grow up.”

“It was, it was,” Victoria began and Gregg sat back to listen, wondering to himself how she knew that snakes were involved in the robberies and thinking what a coincidence it was that Victoria had turned up at the same time as a mysterious masked crime fighter that was steeped in the law of the jungle too.

Victoria was happy to talk. Apart for the stupid slip up over the snakes – which she didn’t think Gregg had noticed - she was pretty pleased with how things were going. Gregg seemed to be happy to take her at face value as a fun-loving, rich kid with a taste for white rum, lime and mint. But Gregg had made a mistake. He’d been showing off when he did that trick. Victoria had seen some of the best conjurors in the world when she’d been living in Egypt. She knew there had been more to the trick with her earring than sleight of hand and that meant Gregg was more than capable of having carried out the mystery thefts.

****** ***** ***** *****

At home in her apartment, Mayor Reynolds was staring out at the night time view across the city. She felt strangely restless, disturbed by the robbery of her office without really understanding why. She was appalled by the fact that the thieves had obviously amused themselves at her and her secretary’s expense, even if neither of them could remember anything about it. But - even though she found it appalling - there was a strange thrilling undercurrent to it as well. The whole thing was too strange for words. Between them the Commissioner, the Chief and this Jungle Jane had better find these thieves and put a stop to it.

Hocus Pocus

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