Flagrant

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  • lake.nyc posted a photo:

    10_

  • www.bazpics.com posted a photo:

    Uglyworld #2756 - Outs Of Placers (Project ASOB - Image 131 of 366)

    Project ASOB - Image 131 of 366

    I runs a very tights ships in this householder, and tonights I hads to calls an emergencies meetings for a flagrants viomalationer ofs protocols.

    Someones putereds waters on the beers shelfer in the fridger, this is completelies outs of orders and can't be allowereds to continues!

    From the Uglydoll blog at blog.adventuresinuglyworld.com/

    And on Twitter at - @uglyadventures

    On Google at - plus.google.com/110890957394686361214/posts

  • Alain Dutertre posted a photo:

    Fuck terrorism

  • Chatwick Harpax posted a photo:

    Than came the wickedness

    Where the Jewels Are.

    A Prequel to
    “An Odyssey Less Taken “ (Tallie)


    An Escapade in 3 Acts…

    Excerpts:

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

    Act 1
    The Mustard Seed is planted

    ***********

    A couple is getting ready to leave for an apparently Fancy Dress Affair:


    The wife cascades down the stairs swirling her silk dress for to catch her husband’s eye, which she does.


    Blimey Bess, did you leave anything in ur Jewelry Casket, he chides with a satisfied smirk.

    Casket, Luv? Really? I keep telling you what a morbid term that is, she scolds him , while she smiles radiantly ; fetchingly placing a hand to her husband’s cheek, then straightening the black bow tie of his tux.


    Don’t be snide, I know you like it when I dress. Besides it’s not often we get to hob nob with near royalty. Beth said in justification of herself driving to the occasion dressed to the nines.

    But Beth, Calling it a casket is an old term, and her husband starts to explain (not for the first time) the origin of the phrase ”jewele casket”
    Hush child, Beth simpers, placing a finger to his lips, with a very becoming look in her eyes, save it for the students. She turns away and he slaps her lovingly upon her posterior. She giggles and heads back to the stairs.

    The doorbell rings.


    Beth stops and turns, looking at the door. Could you get that dear, looks like a postal package. I have to go upstairs to finish my hair, and to bury my casket, you old toad she tosses at him, making no attempt to hide in her voice the with undying affection she has for her husband, the love of her life.

    He obediently goes to the door, where a man in uniform can be seen through the window, waiting with a package.

    He turns, a lump rising in his throat as he eyeballs his pretty ( to him) wife Bess. The main reason is too catch another look at the pretty party dress swishing along her withdrawing figure ,but he also throws a teasing retort at her retreating back, . besides, casket It what me Mum called it luv…..


    Turning away, he goes to open the door.

    End Act 1
    *******


    Act 2
    The Trolley Cometh

    *******


    Up on a hummock a large stone manor sits, dominating the landscape below.


    A proper butler opens the Manor’s double doors and a stream of well gowned, ladies pour out. The many jewels they are wearing sparkling like some sort of jewel filled waterfall as they move heading down to where a quite ornate Trolley awaits them.


    The whispering rustle of high end satin and the erupting glitter of colourfully flickering tiffany quality jewels, lighting up the dreary early morning as female members of the wedding party descend.


    The bride is the last to come out into the early morning, stopping to survey the activity below , ever so a royal highness looking down on her subjects.


    It was her idea to have her brides maids be driven out to her parents country estate before the dress rehearsal and have a photo grapher take shots of her party at various locations. Since the Groom and his Groomsmen were not allowed, by custom, to view the gowned bride before the ceremony, they were of course not invited. Nor was anyone else outside herself, the bridal party and the photo grapher. The rehearsal and dinner were to take place later that afternoon, and the bride and her party would be changing at the country estate. Towards that means they had already placed cases aboard the trolley containing their evening clothes and everyday jewelry that they would wear for the evenings festivities..


    She preferred to be in control off all aspects of the situation. Needless to say, her wedding planner, waiting at the stone cathedral, had developed a migraine over the whole affair.


    After a couple of group shots are arranged in front of the elegant trolley, the party is herded aboard by the tuxedoed trolley driver. He has their schedule to keep. He is helped by his pretty blonde wife, herself dressed shimmering, sparkling, as she expertly moves (herds?) the elegant ladies , escorting them cheerfully to their seats.


    And with a lurch of the trolley on the old private road, the entire ultra-wealthy group set off on their pre nuptial adventure.


    End Act 2

    *******

    The connection between acts 1 & 2, for those who haven’t figured it out, will be revealed in act 3.
    Please comment if you’re going to stay tuned for the outcome

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


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


    This would be the 3rd and possibly final installment of the trilogy…..If you are interested in reading the storyline complete you may find it enlightening to visit Acts 1 and 2 (respectively) before proceeding any further.

    Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.


    Act 3(?)
    After the Harvest
    *******

    The inspector arrives in his rather jaunty sports auto. He emerges with his Detective Sargent, approaching a waiting constable.


    The constable’s partner, Archie, is inside with the police matron.


    What do we have Constable? The inspector asks quizzically.


    Apparently we have a husband and wife teem who own and drive a private rental trolley, that then decides to waylay and rob the entire wedding party they were hired to ferry about.


    Way out here, in the middle of nowhere, Constable?


    Appears they were going to the Brides summer home to be photographed. The trolley turned down the path to this old deserted manor where they were told there was engine trouble.


    And they were robbed, by the driver and his wife you say Constable?


    Them, and two others waiting.

    4 robbers then,
    Who called it in Constable?


    Received an anonymous tip


    And just what were they robbed of, Constable? The inspector asked, almost wearily.


    Stripped of everything down to their bloody knickers, the lot of them. Then handcuffed and left.


    Language Mate, the inspector chided his constable, looking at his Sargent, taking this all down?

    Detective Sargent nods


    Now, he said turning back to the Constable, Just why do you suppose they stripped them of their clothes.


    The gowns were worth L3000 pounds each, real emeralds, the brides was worth double that, with real diamonds


    So they were robbed for their expensive clothes, then eh Sargent, the inspector leered.


    No Sir that was not all the lot were after.


    The Bride was wearing diamond jewelry worth L100,000 pounds easy, the rest of the girls were wearing matching emeralds sets that the bride paid L32,000 pounds each.


    Each, The inspector arched an eyebrow.


    Each of the Bridesmaids, inspector, answered the ridden constable.


    That’s a great amount of information constable. Just how did you acquire it.


    The bride sir, she won’t stop squawking on about it. answered the Constable

    Careful how you talk about your betters, constable, the inspector winked at him.

    I’m sure the young lady in question has every right to squawk.


    So let me get this straight constable, a bridal party was Shanghaied and robbed of their possessions by their trolley driver, his wife and two other associates. Then someone cordially calls the station to let us in on the joke?


    Right sir, no joke though


    Then why did they leave their trolley here, for evidence against them?
    Asked the Inspector, before turning to his Detective Sargent.


    Sergeant. send a man down to the drivers abode, the information should be acquired from the registration from the plates they so handily left.


    The Constable cleared his throat, actually my partner Archie already called it in Sir.


    The inspector raised an eyebrow, Glad to see someone is on the ball.


    The police radio crackles, the constable goes to answer it.


    He comes back, standing smartly at attention.


    Just received a call, they found the husband and wife tied up in their basement.
    Apparently two men posing as a postal worker and driver held them up.


    The ones who robbed the bride and her party? Constable?


    No sir, apparently the two who brought them here were imposters.
    The real uns were held them up at gunpoint, made to strip to their underthings and tied up.
    Then Two others, man and woman, took the Trolly to the Manor to “pick up” the Bride and her Bridesmaids.

    Has a statement been taken? Yes sir, but there is not much.

    Thieves were disguised as postal workers. House was ransacked, safe looted, wife jewel case cleaned out, the usual.
    After burgling their manor, the occupants were stripped to their skivvies, trussed up and locked in their basement cannery.

    Then a call came in on their telephone, the thieves answered it. After they hung up, the husband heard their phone used to call us, and heard the two thieves leave..

    Was anything said by the thieves?

    They only overheard the one thing, something one of the postage men said.


    Thief posing as one, right constable, don’t want to give anyone a bad rep


    Yes sir,
    it appears that when the thief - wearing the postman’s costume- answered the phone, he repeated a phrase.


    And what would that phrase have been, constable?


    Mustard Seed,


    Mustard seed? Eh.


    Sergeant, the inspector turned to his detective sergeant. That begs the question, why Mustard seed?

    The Detective Sergeant mulled it over for a minute. Then offered:
    Seed, could be seed money, mustards grow from a small seed into something quite large. This robbery was seed money for something bigger, possibly, sir?


    Not bad Sargent, will make an inspector of you yet.


    The inspector turns back to the constable, who has had just about enough of his superiors questions.
    He is relieved to now hear what the inspector has to say.


    Constable, stand pat here while my sergeant and I have a chat with our victims inside,

    The inspector turned to his Detective Sergeant :
    Let’s get this lot sorted out, and then will we’ll head over and see about the driver and his wife…


    The two made their way up towards the decaying deserted manor house.


    The Constable, watching them disappear inside, mutters under his breath.


    That is an awfully big haul just for seed money. I would be happy with what that lot will get for what they stole. I bet the old man is off target on this one. Thieves probably will be out of the country with the loot and have it pawned in the states by the time he gets done with his questions.

    The constable was closer to the truth than he realized…..

    Originally the gang planning the heist had meant to carry out the caper then head off to parts unknown with the loot and lay low. During planning the stages of the heist, one of their members infiltrated the group to garner information. Remarks were interestingly overheard by chatting bridesmaids about a lavish affair being staged a fortnight away (only one week after the rehearsal dinner).

    From the “seed” planted by that helpful bit of overheard gossip, grew the new job the group was now going to carry out very shortly .
    Mustard seed become its code name.


    End of Act 3

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

    In addendum


    Now we break away from the crime scene to visit an occurrence that took place some two hours prior to the phone call that alerted the police to the unfortunate incident related above.


    The scene: Inside a C. Hoare & Co branch, in a posh end of London..

    Two ladies, both, opulently dressed in satins and jewels, their thick fur coats have been carefully hung by a smartly dressed lady porter, nearby, had been seated and served. The pair are now alone in a richly furnished private room of the bank. Wine at hand, they are merrily going through a collection of jewelry glistening from an open safe deposit strongbox brought up from the depths of the banks’ vault.


    The fashionable, long haired daughter is half-heartedly trying on one of several jewel encrusted Tiaras…… Her stylish, bobbed haired mother is admiring the sparkle of a diamond waterfall style necklace; the pricy jewels’ matching mates, (earrings and bracelets and brooch) are laid out next to her.

    The daughter suddenly lest out a squeal of delight as she spy’s a small sparkling ruby and emerald encrusted diamond cocktail ring , which she grabs and slips on her pinky. She admires the raw, rainbow like fireworks as she moves it under the lights.

    Mum, can I? it will go ever so nicely with the gown I’m wearing to Polly’s Soiree.

    Hey, that was my Great Aunts , her Mother yelps grasping at the ring. Almost looking like Defoe’s Sunday dressed Moll Flanders snatching at the colourful trinket worn by a young miss, awed by the passing parade of royals.

    Unlike that distracted young miss, however, the daughter was able to hold the ring high from the reach of Her mother’s fingertips, giggling as she did so.

    Now Millicent, her mother lectured, You know we don’t approve of young Lady Pollyanna’s fancy boy, Raul. He would probably manage a way to slip the ring from off your finger.

    Oh, MaMa, , answered Millicent, I’ll be ever so careful, and please don’t you harp on poor Raul. He really is quite a dear, and the pearls were simply lost, nothing more. Let me wear the ring, and I’ll wear whatever jewelry you pick out for me the weekend, Sagely bargained Millicent.

    Promise? Her mother asks, relenting in to her daughter’s wishes. It’s just that we don’t you making publicity over getting robbed just before your occasion.

    Mum, Millicent says soothingly, nothing will happen to me before my Debs Ball, or occasion as you will call it. She bent over and kissed her mother on the forehead, before going back to her admiration of the pretty ring.

    But innocently enough, pretty Millicent has no idea of the prophetic canniness her naively made promise to her mother would soon foretell.


    To be continued….

    To be continued….

    Please see:

    Album entitled “Tallie”
    For the main story of what the mustard seed turned out to grow into…..


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


    The narration above is from a play with its roots Derived from a story based on fact.

    Do to the rather extensive connections of the Families involved: an official report was never released to the public.

    The case was finally Closed without being resolved to the victims,

    Apparently the job was perfectly planned and executed by professionals , probably with inside information from never discovered sources.

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

    Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.


    Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
    DISCLAIMER
    All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

    The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

    No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

    These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
    As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
    We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

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

  • Chatwick Harpax posted a photo:

    His fifth target had been taken a month ago on Halloween night.

    “If I die young bury me in satin” Samantha just could not keep from playing that song in her head.


    ******************************
    Lyrics to the sonnet appear after the story
    ************************

    Samantha shook her head to clear her mind. Here she was on a deadly serious operation and a silly old song was all she could think about. She should have worn velvet tonight, she reasoned without any logic.

    This was her third attempt out undercover. The only nibble so far had been a two bit second rate mugger on their first attempt. Sam remembered the look in his drooling eyes, he had figured that he had hit the jackpot as he forced, at knifepoint, Samantha to hand over her pricy jewels. Boy was he surprised when Sam’s team paid his seedy apartment a visit a few hours later as he was celebrating his good fortune with his cronies. Then she heard it….

    Suddenly, all thoughts of songs and adolescencent punks were driven from her mind. Sam’s sixth sense was tingling; she had picked up a follower. She had heard him in the woods one the other side of the deserted lane. He was good, she hadn’t been aware of being followed until the muffled snap of a twig reached her ears. She shivered deliciously, come to momma she said to herself, not giving any outward sign that she had heard…….
    **
    The unknown assailant That Sam was trying to lure had been making a practice of preying on wealthy, unchaperoned women. Carefully selecting his victims based solely on the jewels they were exhibiting. Following them home as they left the upper class parties they were attending. He would then ambush them, tying up the hapless victim, then looting the house of anything small, but valuable, including whatever jewelry could be found on his bound, usually wriggling victim.

    His fifth target had been taken a month ago on Halloween night. She had been a blonde mistress of a titled junior minister, who had set her up in his summer cottage, which overlooked the channel. She had been seized, bound, gagged and robbed inside the small cottage. In her struggles against her bindings she had choked to death. That had made it murder. That made it Sam’s problem. With the heat being put on by the junior minister Sam had been given carte blanche. But, by the manner with which Sir Mister ” junior” minister had been squawking, one would assume he was more concerned over the jewels that had been nicked than the untimely demise of his sexy young paramour!. The vain prig probably already had another one lined up and installed at the small cottage, waiting to be adorned with the jewels once they had been recovered Sam figured wryly. But, an assignment was an assignment no matter what her feelings were about the matter. So, Sam had assembled her team, supplied them with the very latest in technology, and had gone hunting him down.

    Sam had felt a bit James Bondish wearing jewels with an array of tracking devices carefully hidden in amongst the tiffany quality Gems. Her rented cottage, an old keep for a bygone ancient castle, was also outfitted with ultra-sensitive listening devices. Her team could track every move and hear every word spoken as Sam was out on her prowl.
    **
    And now she was being carefully followed. Instinctively she knew that whomever it was, it wasn’t a two bit hood this time. Another twig snapped, closer and, Sam thought, deliberate. She turned around to look, hand to mouth, in all appearances she was the slightly drunk and vulnerable, wealthy brunette that was her role on this case . But, unnoticeably, on the inside, Samantha ‘s whole demeanor changed, becoming cold and alert, Knowing it was her job to bring this piece of venom to justice. Bring it on she thought to herself, hoping this was the one. Then she turned and made her way to the keep, her senses prickling….
    ***********************************************************************
    "If I Die Young"


    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    Uh oh, uh oh

    Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
    She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh,
    And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
    Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom
    I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
    I've never known the lovin' of a man
    But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,
    There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,
    Who would have thought forever could be severed by...

    ...the sharp knife of a short life, oh well?
    I've had just enough time

    So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls
    What I never did is done

    A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
    They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
    And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
    Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    Uh oh (uh, oh)
    The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)
    Go with peace and love
    Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
    Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls.
    *******************************************************************
    Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
    DISCLAIMER
    All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

    The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

    No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

    These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
    As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
    We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

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

  • Chatwick Harpax posted a photo:

    Carpe Diem -A Study in Wickedness

    **************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
    Part 1
    A Study in Wickedness
    Carpe Diem
    ***************************************************************
    Follow the innocence, for whom the darkness dealt,
    Swishing vibrancy vanished into the cruel abyss so very svelte,
    Who dare to enter, without any fear felt?
    Unbeknownst what beyond the pale dwelt.
    *****************************************************************
    Caution, The tale told below is not for the squeamish. It is both dark and disturbing. It is only recorded in these chronicles to serve as a cautionary tale…..
    Remember… You have been advised.
    This recorded incident occurred at the now eastside Walden Oak Social Club. A once respectable west end private club founded almost 150 years ago. But due to the now decrepit neighborhood its reputation and membership has lessened. But it is a beautiful building, and its cheap rent for it’s still lavishly regal ballrooms will always attract upscale events for those too wealthy to know better.
    It was late fall, when the evening light fades, rather early that this tale of woe takes place. The year will remain shrouded, as will the known names of the players.
    A wedding reception had been going on since late afternoon. Anyone who had noticed the guests ( and they were watched) would have seen by their dress, the manner upon which they carried themselves, and the jewels of the gowned ladies, that this was a gathering of the wealthy privileged.
    The girl (Marissa) was clad in the flowing designer gown her mother had bought for her when she entered her daughter in a American Hollywood style Children’s beauty Pageant.
    It was a long gown of rich red satin with rhinestone straps and a large shimmering broach. Marissa had promised that if she was allowed to wear it to the reception that she would not soil it. She was to wear it in a Children’s beauty pageant to be held in Surry the next month ( and try to do better than third this time, Marissa, she was lectured) Marissa was also wearing the Swarovski crystal diamond set she would be wearing at that pageant ( her mother had bought it hoping it would give her daughter an added edge).
    Marissa had done her best to behave, but as the party grew old, and her mother grew less watchful, she began to join into play with her younger cousin ( Samuel). Sam was quite a rumbustious lad who had been in the bridal party as a ring bearer, although he was a lot older than normal for the role. The pair soon started chasing each other around the spacious ballroom. And then down the hall, and finally out the double front doors and running around the twilight lit building.
    At one point Sam chased Marissa to the corner, tagging her and then running back, with Marissa giving chase. He turned the corner, circled the building, outdistancing poor Marissa. He reached the front door, panting, waiting to let Marissa see him before running off. But Marissa did not reappear around the building.
    He soon went looking for her, retracing his steps, but no sign of Marissa was to be had. There was nothing for it, he had to tell Marissa’s, mother, a task he did not relish. So after calling one last time, with still no response, he headed inside.
    For more of the story of the story, please see the picture title:
    Uncanny (to be posted next )
    **************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
    Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
    DISCLAIMER
    All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
    The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
    No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
    These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
    As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
    We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
    ********************************************************************************

  • Download Youtube Videos Online posted a photo:

    Draymond Green FUNNY Flagrant Foul on LeBron James | WARRIORS vs CAVS | Jan 16, 2017 | 16-17 Season

    Download Youtube Videos Online ift.tt/2k270in

  • Download Youtube Videos Online posted a photo:

    Draymond Green reacts to flagrant against LeBron, calls Warriors-Cavs a rivalry

    Download Youtube Videos Online ift.tt/2jHKbgn

  • Andie Lewis posted a photo:

    "Flagrant Délit" - Concours Ldoll

    Et hop, voici ma participation au concours "Photo affiche" du Ldoll Festival 2016.

    Le thème est "Flagrant Délit".

    Si vous voulez aller voter c'est par ici : ldollfestival.com/concours-photo-2016/
    Photo n°15 pour les intéressés ! ;)

    -----------------------

    And voila, here is my participation in the photo contest to the 2016 Ldoll Festival.

    The theme is "Caught in the act".

    If you want to vote it is here : ldollfestival.com/concours-photo-2016/
    Photo # 15 for interested people ! ;)

  • tugasgm posted a photo:

    #paris #euro2016 #france #fra

  • jayzeapix posted a photo:

    caught in the act

  • synandel posted a photo:

    Pris en flag' !

    Cette photo manque de piqué, car pris à la volée au canon 600d dans un gymnase plutôt sombre, mais elle m'a tellement fait rire que je me sens obligé de la mettre ^o^

  • luc.francois57 posted a photo:

    syrphe

    SONY DSC

  • Rodrigo Alceu Baliza posted a photo:

    indiscreet flagrant

  • Sarah Rolim posted a photo:

    De rua.

    on.be.net/1r3hZ4N

  • marinelenain posted a photo:

    Temisgam, Ladakh, India

  • Chatwick Harpax posted a photo:

    Then the peril crept out


    Where the Jewels Are.

    A Prequel to
    “An Odyssey Less Taken “ (Tallie)


    An Escapade in 3 Acts…

    Excerpts:

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

    Act 1
    The Mustard Seed is planted

    ***********

    A couple is getting ready to leave for an apparently Fancy Dress Affair:


    The wife cascades down the stairs swirling her silk dress for to catch her husband’s eye, which she does.


    Blimey Bess, did you leave anything in ur Jewelry Casket, he chides with a satisfied smirk.

    Casket, Luv? Really? I keep telling you what a morbid term that is, she scolds him , while she smiles radiantly ; fetchingly placing a hand to her husband’s cheek, then straightening the black bow tie of his tux.


    Don’t be snide, I know you like it when I dress. Besides it’s not often we get to hob nob with near royalty. Beth said in justification of herself driving to the occasion dressed to the nines.

    But Beth, Calling it a casket is an old term, and her husband starts to explain (not for the first time) the origin of the phrase ”jewele casket”
    Hush child, Beth simpers, placing a finger to his lips, with a very becoming look in her eyes, save it for the students. She turns away and he slaps her lovingly upon her posterior. She giggles and heads back to the stairs.

    The doorbell rings.


    Beth stops and turns, looking at the door. Could you get that dear, looks like a postal package. I have to go upstairs to finish my hair, and to bury my casket, you old toad she tosses at him, making no attempt to hide in her voice the with undying affection she has for her husband, the love of her life.

    He obediently goes to the door, where a man in uniform can be seen through the window, waiting with a package.

    He turns, a lump rising in his throat as he eyeballs his pretty ( to him) wife Bess. The main reason is too catch another look at the pretty party dress swishing along her withdrawing figure ,but he also throws a teasing retort at her retreating back, . besides, casket It what me Mum called it luv…..


    Turning away, he goes to open the door.

    End Act 1
    *******


    Act 2
    The Trolley Cometh

    *******


    Up on a hummock a large stone manor sits, dominating the landscape below.


    A proper butler opens the Manor’s double doors and a stream of well gowned, ladies pour out. The many jewels they are wearing sparkling like some sort of jewel filled waterfall as they move heading down to where a quite ornate Trolley awaits them.


    The whispering rustle of high end satin and the erupting glitter of colourfully flickering tiffany quality jewels, lighting up the dreary early morning as female members of the wedding party descend.


    The bride is the last to come out into the early morning, stopping to survey the activity below , ever so a royal highness looking down on her subjects.


    It was her idea to have her brides maids be driven out to her parents country estate before the dress rehearsal and have a photo grapher take shots of her party at various locations. Since the Groom and his Groomsmen were not allowed, by custom, to view the gowned bride before the ceremony, they were of course not invited. Nor was anyone else outside herself, the bridal party and the photo grapher. The rehearsal and dinner were to take place later that afternoon, and the bride and her party would be changing at the country estate. Towards that means they had already placed cases aboard the trolley containing their evening clothes and everyday jewelry that they would wear for the evenings festivities..


    She preferred to be in control off all aspects of the situation. Needless to say, her wedding planner, waiting at the stone cathedral, had developed a migraine over the whole affair.


    After a couple of group shots are arranged in front of the elegant trolley, the party is herded aboard by the tuxedoed trolley driver. He has their schedule to keep. He is helped by his pretty blonde wife, herself dressed shimmering, sparkling, as she expertly moves (herds?) the elegant ladies , escorting them cheerfully to their seats.


    And with a lurch of the trolley on the old private road, the entire ultra-wealthy group set off on their pre nuptial adventure.


    End Act 2

    *******

    The connection between acts 1 & 2, for those who haven’t figured it out, will be revealed in act 3.
    Please comment if you’re going to stay tuned for the outcome

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


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


    This would be the 3rd and possibly final installment of the trilogy…..If you are interested in reading the storyline complete you may find it enlightening to visit Acts 1 and 2 (respectively) before proceeding any further.

    Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.


    Act 3(?)
    After the Harvest
    *******

    The inspector arrives in his rather jaunty sports auto. He emerges with his Detective Sargent, approaching a waiting constable.


    The constable’s partner, Archie, is inside with the police matron.


    What do we have Constable? The inspector asks quizzically.


    Apparently we have a husband and wife teem who own and drive a private rental trolley, that then decides to waylay and rob the entire wedding party they were hired to ferry about.


    Way out here, in the middle of nowhere, Constable?


    Appears they were going to the Brides summer home to be photographed. The trolley turned down the path to this old deserted manor where they were told there was engine trouble.


    And they were robbed, by the driver and his wife you say Constable?


    Them, and two others waiting.

    4 robbers then,
    Who called it in Constable?


    Received an anonymous tip


    And just what were they robbed of, Constable? The inspector asked, almost wearily.


    Stripped of everything down to their bloody knickers, the lot of them. Then handcuffed and left.


    Language Mate, the inspector chided his constable, looking at his Sargent, taking this all down?

    Detective Sargent nods


    Now, he said turning back to the Constable, Just why do you suppose they stripped them of their clothes.


    The gowns were worth L3000 pounds each, real emeralds, the brides was worth double that, with real diamonds


    So they were robbed for their expensive clothes, then eh Sargent, the inspector leered.


    No Sir that was not all the lot were after.


    The Bride was wearing diamond jewelry worth L100,000 pounds easy, the rest of the girls were wearing matching emeralds sets that the bride paid L32,000 pounds each.


    Each, The inspector arched an eyebrow.


    Each of the Bridesmaids, inspector, answered the ridden constable.


    That’s a great amount of information constable. Just how did you acquire it.


    The bride sir, she won’t stop squawking on about it. answered the Constable

    Careful how you talk about your betters, constable, the inspector winked at him.

    I’m sure the young lady in question has every right to squawk.


    So let me get this straight constable, a bridal party was Shanghaied and robbed of their possessions by their trolley driver, his wife and two other associates. Then someone cordially calls the station to let us in on the joke?


    Right sir, no joke though


    Then why did they leave their trolley here, for evidence against them?
    Asked the Inspector, before turning to his Detective Sargent.


    Sergeant. send a man down to the drivers abode, the information should be acquired from the registration from the plates they so handily left.


    The Constable cleared his throat, actually my partner Archie already called it in Sir.


    The inspector raised an eyebrow, Glad to see someone is on the ball.


    The police radio crackles, the constable goes to answer it.


    He comes back, standing smartly at attention.


    Just received a call, they found the husband and wife tied up in their basement.
    Apparently two men posing as a postal worker and driver held them up.


    The ones who robbed the bride and her party? Constable?


    No sir, apparently the two who brought them here were imposters.
    The real uns were held them up at gunpoint, made to strip to their underthings and tied up.
    Then Two others, man and woman, took the Trolly to the Manor to “pick up” the Bride and her Bridesmaids.

    Has a statement been taken? Yes sir, but there is not much.

    Thieves were disguised as postal workers. House was ransacked, safe looted, wife jewel case cleaned out, the usual.
    After burgling their manor, the occupants were stripped to their skivvies, trussed up and locked in their basement cannery.

    Then a call came in on their telephone, the thieves answered it. After they hung up, the husband heard their phone used to call us, and heard the two thieves leave..

    Was anything said by the thieves?

    They only overheard the one thing, something one of the postage men said.


    Thief posing as one, right constable, don’t want to give anyone a bad rep


    Yes sir,
    it appears that when the thief - wearing the postman’s costume- answered the phone, he repeated a phrase.


    And what would that phrase have been, constable?


    Mustard Seed,


    Mustard seed? Eh.


    Sergeant, the inspector turned to his detective sergeant. That begs the question, why Mustard seed?

    The Detective Sergeant mulled it over for a minute. Then offered:
    Seed, could be seed money, mustards grow from a small seed into something quite large. This robbery was seed money for something bigger, possibly, sir?


    Not bad Sargent, will make an inspector of you yet.


    The inspector turns back to the constable, who has had just about enough of his superiors questions.
    He is relieved to now hear what the inspector has to say.


    Constable, stand pat here while my sergeant and I have a chat with our victims inside,

    The inspector turned to his Detective Sergeant :
    Let’s get this lot sorted out, and then will we’ll head over and see about the driver and his wife…


    The two made their way up towards the decaying deserted manor house.


    The Constable, watching them disappear inside, mutters under his breath.


    That is an awfully big haul just for seed money. I would be happy with what that lot will get for what they stole. I bet the old man is off target on this one. Thieves probably will be out of the country with the loot and have it pawned in the states by the time he gets done with his questions.

    The constable was closer to the truth than he realized…..

    Originally the gang planning the heist had meant to carry out the caper then head off to parts unknown with the loot and lay low. During planning the stages of the heist, one of their members infiltrated the group to garner information. Remarks were interestingly overheard by chatting bridesmaids about a lavish affair being staged a fortnight away (only one week after the rehearsal dinner).

    From the “seed” planted by that helpful bit of overheard gossip, grew the new job the group was now going to carry out very shortly .
    Mustard seed become its code name.


    End of Act 3

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

    In addendum


    Now we break away from the crime scene to visit an occurrence that took place some two hours prior to the phone call that alerted the police to the unfortunate incident related above.


    The scene: Inside a C. Hoare & Co branch, in a posh end of London..

    Two ladies, both, opulently dressed in satins and jewels, their thick fur coats have been carefully hung by a smartly dressed lady porter, nearby, had been seated and served. The pair are now alone in a richly furnished private room of the bank. Wine at hand, they are merrily going through a collection of jewelry glistening from an open safe deposit strongbox brought up from the depths of the banks’ vault.


    The fashionable, long haired daughter is half-heartedly trying on one of several jewel encrusted Tiaras…… Her stylish, bobbed haired mother is admiring the sparkle of a diamond waterfall style necklace; the pricy jewels’ matching mates, (earrings and bracelets and brooch) are laid out next to her.

    The daughter suddenly lest out a squeal of delight as she spy’s a small sparkling ruby and emerald encrusted diamond cocktail ring , which she grabs and slips on her pinky. She admires the raw, rainbow like fireworks as she moves it under the lights.

    Mum, can I? it will go ever so nicely with the gown I’m wearing to Polly’s Soiree.

    Hey, that was my Great Aunts , her Mother yelps grasping at the ring. Almost looking like Defoe’s Sunday dressed Moll Flanders snatching at the colourful trinket worn by a young miss, awed by the passing parade of royals.

    Unlike that distracted young miss, however, the daughter was able to hold the ring high from the reach of Her mother’s fingertips, giggling as she did so.

    Now Millicent, her mother lectured, You know we don’t approve of young Lady Pollyanna’s fancy boy, Raul. He would probably manage a way to slip the ring from off your finger.

    Oh, MaMa, , answered Millicent, I’ll be ever so careful, and please don’t you harp on poor Raul. He really is quite a dear, and the pearls were simply lost, nothing more. Let me wear the ring, and I’ll wear whatever jewelry you pick out for me the weekend, Sagely bargained Millicent.

    Promise? Her mother asks, relenting in to her daughter’s wishes. It’s just that we don’t you making publicity over getting robbed just before your occasion.

    Mum, Millicent says soothingly, nothing will happen to me before my Debs Ball, or occasion as you will call it. She bent over and kissed her mother on the forehead, before going back to her admiration of the pretty ring.

    But innocently enough, pretty Millicent has no idea of the prophetic canniness her naively made promise to her mother would soon foretell.


    To be continued….

    To be continued….

    Please see:

    Album entitled “Tallie”
    For the main story of what the mustard seed turned out to grow into…..


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


    The narration above is from a play with its roots Derived from a story based on fact.

    Do to the rather extensive connections of the Families involved: an official report was never released to the public.

    The case was finally Closed without being resolved to the victims,

    Apparently the job was perfectly planned and executed by professionals , probably with inside information from never discovered sources.

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

    Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.


    Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
    DISCLAIMER
    All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

    The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

    No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

    These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
    As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
    We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

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

  • Chatwick Harpax posted a photo:

    The only nibble so far had been a two bit second rate   mugger on their first attempt.

    “If I die young bury me in satin” Samantha just could not keep from playing that song in her head.


    ******************************
    Lyrics to the sonnet appear after the story
    ************************

    Samantha shook her head to clear her mind. Here she was on a deadly serious operation and a silly old song was all she could think about. She should have worn velvet tonight, she reasoned without any logic.

    This was her third attempt out undercover. The only nibble so far had been a two bit second rate mugger on their first attempt. Sam remembered the look in his drooling eyes, he had figured that he had hit the jackpot as he forced, at knifepoint, Samantha to hand over her pricy jewels. Boy was he surprised when Sam’s team paid his seedy apartment a visit a few hours later as he was celebrating his good fortune with his cronies. Then she heard it….

    Suddenly, all thoughts of songs and adolescencent punks were driven from her mind. Sam’s sixth sense was tingling; she had picked up a follower. She had heard him in the woods one the other side of the deserted lane. He was good, she hadn’t been aware of being followed until the muffled snap of a twig reached her ears. She shivered deliciously, come to momma she said to herself, not giving any outward sign that she had heard…….
    **
    The unknown assailant That Sam was trying to lure had been making a practice of preying on wealthy, unchaperoned women. Carefully selecting his victims based solely on the jewels they were exhibiting. Following them home as they left the upper class parties they were attending. He would then ambush them, tying up the hapless victim, then looting the house of anything small, but valuable, including whatever jewelry could be found on his bound, usually wriggling victim.

    His fifth target had been taken a month ago on Halloween night. She had been a blonde mistress of a titled junior minister, who had set her up in his summer cottage, which overlooked the channel. She had been seized, bound, gagged and robbed inside the small cottage. In her struggles against her bindings she had choked to death. That had made it murder. That made it Sam’s problem. With the heat being put on by the junior minister Sam had been given carte blanche. But, by the manner with which Sir Mister ” junior” minister had been squawking, one would assume he was more concerned over the jewels that had been nicked than the untimely demise of his sexy young paramour!. The vain prig probably already had another one lined up and installed at the small cottage, waiting to be adorned with the jewels once they had been recovered Sam figured wryly. But, an assignment was an assignment no matter what her feelings were about the matter. So, Sam had assembled her team, supplied them with the very latest in technology, and had gone hunting him down.

    Sam had felt a bit James Bondish wearing jewels with an array of tracking devices carefully hidden in amongst the tiffany quality Gems. Her rented cottage, an old keep for a bygone ancient castle, was also outfitted with ultra-sensitive listening devices. Her team could track every move and hear every word spoken as Sam was out on her prowl.
    **
    And now she was being carefully followed. Instinctively she knew that whomever it was, it wasn’t a two bit hood this time. Another twig snapped, closer and, Sam thought, deliberate. She turned around to look, hand to mouth, in all appearances she was the slightly drunk and vulnerable, wealthy brunette that was her role on this case . But, unnoticeably, on the inside, Samantha ‘s whole demeanor changed, becoming cold and alert, Knowing it was her job to bring this piece of venom to justice. Bring it on she thought to herself, hoping this was the one. Then she turned and made her way to the keep, her senses prickling….
    ***********************************************************************
    "If I Die Young"


    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    Uh oh, uh oh

    Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
    She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh,
    And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
    Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom
    I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
    I've never known the lovin' of a man
    But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,
    There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,
    Who would have thought forever could be severed by...

    ...the sharp knife of a short life, oh well?
    I've had just enough time

    So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls
    What I never did is done

    A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
    They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
    And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
    Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'

    If I die young, bury me in satin
    Lay me down on a bed of roses
    Sink me in the river at dawn
    Send me away with the words of a love song

    Uh oh (uh, oh)
    The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)
    Go with peace and love
    Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
    Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh

    The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
    I've had just enough time

    So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls.
    *******************************************************************
    Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
    DISCLAIMER
    All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

    The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

    No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

    These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
    As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
    We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

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

  • Reynald ARTAUD posted a photo:

    flagrant délit... Reynald ARTAUD

    flagrant délit... Reynald ARTAUD

  • Teashirt (Marion Keller) posted a photo:

    Readhead windy selfie

    It's crazy how many people just adopt this posture when visiting a monument. It was about time I had my revenge ! Hope I am on her picture as well ;)