Cat and Mouse - Part IV

The restorer gently took the portfolio and laid it on the examining table. After the accident with the chandelier and the broken case, he had been summoned to examine the damage - if any - and attempt repairs before returning it to the British Museum.

He turned on the lights and slipped on a pair of cotton gloves and then his magnifying goggles. Looking at the notebook, he shook his head. The page to which it had been opened had been dented by a heavy shard of glass and there appeared to be a slight tear in the center of the parchment. I can probably press the dents out with some light steam on the opposite side...

He turned the torn page and blanched. His hands were shaking so badly that it took him three attempts to call the museum curator.

DaVinci Pinched!

Interpol humiliated as tables turned on agency

Versailles. Interpol, the international police agency, was dealt a humiliating blow today when it was discovered that a trap set for an art forger was sprung on the agency itself. The ongoing investigation led by Detective Chief Inspector Iain Goddard of Scotland Yard attempted to use a rare DaVinci notebook as bait to catch a thief who has perpetrated several daring heists over the past few years. Due to an accident in the museum - or perhaps as part of the theft itself - the folio was determined to be a forgery. "I was examining the damage to the pages when I received the shock of my life." said Giovanni Batista, the museum's art restorer. "I turned the page and I saw a perfect drawing of the Autobot Optimus Prime in Leonardo's style. My son has many of those action figures, so that's how I knew what it was right away. I called the curator immediately. I was having heart palpitations." 

Interpol and Inspector Goddard have been unavailable for comment.

* * *
Sebastien threw the paper on Iain's desk. "Have you seen this? Have you? God DAMN you, Iain! You've embarassed me, the Art Crimes Division and Interpol itself! How could you have been so incredibly STUPID?" He paced the small office, running a hand vexedly through his hair and muttering curses under his breath.

Iain rubbed his chin as a wry grin creased his face. "You have to admit, Paul ...  that it was an incredible heist. Alec probably switched the folios between museums. And that Autobot thing was completely brazen. Do you know that we just got the carbon dating results back? Everything was in accord with the original notebook. Ink, paper, leather bindings - even the glue. That was an amazing forgery, if I say so myself. And you should be more concerned about recovering the folio and catching the thief versus whinging over your embarrassment." Goddard, of course, knew more of the details of the job than he was admitting after the tryst with Reynard the night of the incident.

The Interpol chief whirled on the ginger-haired Scot. "You and your ghost again! You actually admire him, don't you? I wouldn't be surprised if you and he were complicit in this!! It would have been better for everyone if you had been ki-" The Art Crimes chief clamped his mouth shut as his statement remained incomplete but perfectly understood.

Iain had had enough. He grabbed the slender man by the lapels of his jacket and lifted him off his feet and flung him against the wall.

SLAM! "You sonofabitch! I've been treated like dirt since I came here from London! You set me up with that drug operation! You set me up and left me to die, you goddamned bastard!"

"Iain ... I ..."

SLAM! "Interpol didn't even bother trying to find out what happened! Was Egon just an acceptable casualty? He just had a baby! What excuse did you give his wife?"

SLAM! "And I don't know who mounted the operation to save me, but whoever they were, they cared fucking enough to find me no matter what and get me out alive! But I know ..." SLAM! "... that it wasn't anyone here!"

He let go of his superior and watched him slump down onto the floor, dazed from the assault. Goddard bent down and whispered to him. "I'm also certain if you try anything like that to me again, they will hunt you down and do the same thing to you as they did to Francois Bertrand." Iain had a bitter taste in his mouth as Sebastien's eyes widened in guilty fear. Goddard grabbed his jacket and stalked out of his office.

Sebastien sat on the floor, breathing heavily. He was not only shaking from the pounding the ginger-haired Scot had given him, but the knowledge that had been imparted. He knows. God in Heaven, he knows. It had all been planned so well - an indiscretion some years back had been used to blackmail the Interpol chief into providing information to the Syrian-French drug gang on a regular basis. Sending Goddard into the lion's den would have eliminated both the gang itself and the Scot when he sent forces in to storm the warehouse - both terrible dangers to his own position. But the situation had morphed into something horribly different - yes, the gang had been murdered - but not by Interpol - and Goddard had been rescued and found waiting in an ambulance at the local hospital. From the few eyewitness accounts, whomever had gone in to rescue the inspector were highly trained and completely remorseless; Francois Bertrand had been found mutilated and skinned - the gangster had died screaming in agony. He should have never underestimated the inspector's deductive powers. Goddard's threat froze his heart - he knew that the Inspector was was correct ... and he knew for him, there was no escape from the prison of his own making.

* * *

After a long soul-searching walk, Iain returned home and wearily climbed the two flights to his apartment. I'm going to call that number Alec gave me. There's no future for me here. I can see that now. Ever since his abduction, he had the prickling feeling of being watched  - but that frisson of unease had never reached the level of a threat - it was always more of a careful observation. Nevertheless, he had taken some precautions and as he removed his keys, he noticed that the hair that had been placed across the doorframe was gone. Quietly, he took the H&K from his shoulder holster and opened the door. Before he could flip on the lights, he was thrown to the ground and the gun torn from his hand. Goddard was pinioned flat to the carpet when a familiar voice chuckled above him.

"My, my, my ... someone must've had a bad day at the office..."

"JD!!"

The handsome bearded face came into view above him from the dim lights of the outside hallway. The dark-haired soldieri gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose and flowed to his feet. He reached down and pulled Iain up. JD flipped on the lights and softly kicked the door shut. He was wearing a slim leather jacket with a tight gray t-shirt beneath. A hint of his tattoos peeked above the scooped neck as he gathered the inspector into a quick embrace.

"I've been reading the papers and figured you'd like to see a friendly face. You okay?"

"Yes. No. Oh, hell... I don't know. My boss thinks I was in on Alec's heist and I'm being stared daggers from more than half the people in the department. It was bad enough when I got those dirty looks because of my clearance rate, but now they look at me like some piece of thieving scum."

Iain quickly realized his gaffe. "No offense intended."

"None taken. Your boss is an asshole and your co-workers don't seem much better, bud."

Iain walked into the kitchen and took two beers from the refrigerator. JD followed. He handed one to the other man. "I nearly beat the shite out of my boss today as well. I believe he had something to do with my abduction and I think he set me up to be killed. Bastard."

He took a swig of beer.

"Well, we can talk about Sebastien and everything else later. I'm taking you out to a party and some fun and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer." He grinned. "Now, get yourself cleaned up and into something comfortable."

He curled into a chair like a large, amorous cat. "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Iain stripped off his clothes and threw them into the hamper. Then he turned on the shower full blast and luxuriated in the clean scent of soap and the massage of the hot spray against his tense muscles. After a bit, he turned off the spray and stepped out of the shower. Only to find JD holding out a towel with a wicked grin on his face. He grabbed the fluffy cotton and wrapped it quickly around his waist.

"I can't see anything to be ashamed of, Iain. You're a damned impressive man, in every way possible." He glanced fixedly at the swelling bulge beneath the front of the towel, and slowly licked his lips.

Goddard blushed scarlet at the compliment. JD gave him a pat on the ass and strolled out of the steamy bathroom. "Make sure you wear something to show off that body of yours, Inspector. Can't let a physique like that go to waste."

* * *

The ginger-haired policeman debated as to whether he would comply with JD's request. He pulled out his baggiest pair of chinos that he owned, and then, thought better of it. He put them back on the hanger and took out a tight, faded pair of jeans. He stepped into a tight pair of briefs and approved of the way they pushed his package out and cupped his cheeks as he looked at himself in the mirror. He then pulled up the jeans and finished with a black polo shirt fitted tightly to his upper body. Finally, he rolled the sleeves up to further accent his guns and then slipped into a pair of black soccer shoes. Keys, wallet and watch were added and he stepped back into the living room.

JD gave a low whistle as Goddard entered. " 'He came out of the north to Paris with a mind like Aristotle and a form like mortal sin...' Impressive, Inspector ... very impressive."

Iain grinned. Despite the travails in his life at the moment, the jewel thief's mere presence brightened him. Over and above the physical attraction, he was genuinely happy to have him around. "... 'We shattered the Commandments on the spot.' Y'know, JD ... beneath that sexual predator veneer of yours, there's quite an acuate mind in there. There's not a lot of people that can quote from 'The Lion in Winter'. "

"There's not a lot of people that would recognize it, either. Gotta keep all my weapons honed sharp enough to draw blood. But I'll leave shattering the commandments to Alec and you." He looked at the white G-Force around his wrist. "We should get moving. Grab a jacket and let's go."

The two men descended the stairs and left the building. Iain slipped on a pair of mirrored blue sunglasses as the bright afternoon sun wreathed him in golden fire. They walked across the boulevard and JD's silver sportscar beeped as it's alarm was turned off. Iain and his companion slid into the leather seats and buckled in. JD gunned the motor and the car leaped into traffic.


* * *

Goddard watched as JD expertly slid around the heavy Parisian traffic and headed north-northeast out of the city on the A3. The inspector noticed as the car took the Le Bourget exit and soon found himself at the private hangars of the older airport. The two exited the car and JD tossed the keys to a mechanic who exited the building as they pulled up. They walked into the hangar.

"Where are we going?"

"Juan Les Pins. The Hotel Du Cap to be exact. You'll like it."

Goddard stopped. "JD, I can't go there ... I have to be at work tomorrow. I ..."

Franklin sighed and grabbed him by his belt buckle. "No one is going to say anything, Iain. It's going to be expected you stay clear of the office after what happened today." He gave him a mock frown. "Now stop acting like a dick and come on. Enjoy yourself for once." He wrapped an arm around the inspector's waist and the two continued.

The men threaded through several buildings and arrived on the tarmac of a runway. Ahead of them, a sleek white Learjet was being loaded; it had a stylized "K" on its tail. Iain sauntered over to the open hatch and gestured Iain into the plane. In  a few moments, JD joined him. "Want to sit up front with me?"

"You can fly?"

JD gave him a happy wink as he slipped on a pair of aviator glasses. "Yup. One of my varied talents. Strap in and let me do the pre-flight. We'll be up and away in a few." The jewel thief flipped several switches and examined dials and meters as the jet came to life under his hands. He pulled a headset over his raven hair and began his conversation with the tower for departure instructions.

True to his word, the plane soon taxied to a runway and in a few moments the men were in the air. As soon as they reached their cruising altitude, JD entered some commands into the flight computer built-in to the cockpit. Iain felt a change in the jet engines and felt himself being pressed deeper into the plush seat.

"I've engaged the afterburners. The flight normally takes about 90 minutes, but we'll be there in about half the time."

Iain gave him a troubled look. "JD ... only military jets have afterburners. There's a great deal of things going on right now that don't make a lot of sense to me. Everything started to go sideways since I met you and Jessie. That operation in Rouen, being abducted by a group of Syrian drug runners and rescued by who knows what black ops group, the fuck-up at the museum and now, this."

JD's normally sunny face settled into a more somber mask. He turned to the inspector and gently ran his hand through the short, ginger hair. "You're right ... this jet isn't exactly a commercial plane, bud. We also have other equipment you won't see on a regular Learjet. Or any fighter jet in the world. Like beam weapons.  And as far as things going sideways, it actually started when you began investigating the art forgeries. You got the attention of a certain organization - and some very highly placed people in particular - that determined they - and you - would be better served having you work for them instead of being a policeman. They've been keeping an eye on you to make sure no one tries another attempt on your life. You're far too valuable to them." He paused. "And to me and Alec as well. I can't disclose any more details than that right now. It's above my pay grade."

At least one part of the puzzle fell into place. "They've been watching me?" He now knew his feelings hadn't been due to mere paranoia.

JD nodded. "Very discreetly. We've been sort of like your guardian angels since the cluster-fuck at Rouen.We mounted the rescue operation to get you out of there."

Another piece of the puzzle. Iain was shocked at the revelations he was hearing. 

"And you're part of this 'organization' ?"

JD nodded again.

"And this 'party' we're going to ...??"

The pilot's face brightened once more and his hand squeezed Goddard's thigh. "It IS a party. A graduation party, truth be told. And I'm one of the graduates. And I wanted YOU as one of my guests. You'll also get to meet a number of the people that have taken such an interest in you."

Iain leaned back into the seat and rubbed his eyes. His mind raced with the revelations and he thought of the ancient Chinese curse - 'May you live in interesting times.'

* * *
I can safely say that I know what is going to happen next - it's just a matter now of sequencing the events of how Iain and Alec are going to get together and the aftermath of the revelations from JD. My last few stories have been moving in fits and starts and as I've said many a time, I really don't want to write when I know the quality will be sub-standard. 

Nevertheless, I did want to get my "Holiday Episode" done before the end of the year and I also wanted to whet your appetites as to what will happen next. The final installment will definitely include sex and violence! At times, I can't really believe I've been doing this now for six years ... more than half a decade!

The idea of Iain had come from seeing a handsome red-haired guy from a Google search. However, there wasn't any name associated with him, which drove me crazy. Thanks to Facebook, I was able to determine that the guy I was looking at was Jelle ten Rouwelaar - a Dutch soccer player. I could have had the character as a soccer player, but I decided I wanted something that would fit a little better into my secondary world  - cops and criminals are definitely characters I relate to best.

So, readers ...on behalf of militant and not-so-perfect angels, rubber-encased slaves, masters and shark-men, struggling cops and gang members with their hearts in the right place ...

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and have a wonderful and very Happy New Year!

Candid Shots: Charlie Hawke

After repeated urgings, Charlie finally agreed to do some modeling for Mateo's cousin Alexander Masiokos - a world-famous fashion designer. Of course, he had to let his hair grow out a little for the photoshoot....

Photo study #13 - Brawling with Bryan

I've found another great company.

Bryan Silva of Studio 135 has produced a number of monster masks in the past, but has spent a good deal of time and effort to work on a core for his more realistic masks. In general, I'm not into monsters (although I do have some) and his "Brawler" mask is a bit of a transition piece - human with some inhuman undertones. Unhaired, you definitely get a bit of a "Lost Boys" vibe wearing it.

Bryan's lip cupping is nothing short of amazing. It almost feels you are being kissed. The perfect fit also produces perfect movement. The mask is snug without being tight and has an amazing bib that looks absolutely real under any shirt - tank, tee or dress. Pecs and traps are built up beautifully and the neck is snug enough to prevent any wrinkling when you move your head from side to side.

Eye fit is also superb. There is very little space between the edge of the mask and your eyelids, but without it feeling intrusive or irritating.

I ordered it without hairing and after a bit decided to send it out to be haired as well - just brows and some facial hair. I really love the way it looks haired as well as unhaired - I may pick up another one and keep it smooth!

Cat and Mouse - Part III

“Paul, blast you! Listen to me! It’s the same man!” Iain Goddard slammed a fist down on Paul  Sebastien’s desk. The head of the Interpol Art Crimes division scowled up at the ginger-haired inspector.

“Iain – you actually expect me to believe that a single man is responsible for the forgery and thefts of works of art across seven distinct periods, plus four jewel heists and eight high end confidence games? No one man has that amount of talent and the resources to pull all of those off! He’d need an organization as considerable as Interpol itself.” His French accent and dismissive demeanor only served to anger the Scot further.

He looked at the inspector across from him, vibrating with frustration. Iain Goddard was one of the youngest full inspectors at Interpol and had an uncanny ability to pull together seemingly disparate pieces of information to solve a crime. A small doubt crossed the Parisian’s mind, but he dismissed it – some things were just too outrageous to be true.

“First of all, surveillance video from the museums all seem to have certain failures at specific times. I can’t tell  you how long it took me to track down tourists and try to get videos from them to fill in the gaps. The victims of the confidence games all mention the same type of man. They were hard to convince to speak with me. The jewel heists have been even more of an issue with the victims not willing to publicly say anything, but I was able to persuade some of them. All point back to a tall, handsome dark-haired man with blue eyes… HIM!”

He threw down the composite sketch built up from the various victims and one of the photographs from JD.

Sebastien gave him a very Gallic shrug. “That describes about a quarter of Europe.” He stood up and looked at his watch. “Drop this, Iain. All the evidence I have is your chasing ghosts and the word of an old woman and her gigolo.” He stood up, dismissing the Goddard. “I have a meeting to attend. After I get back, the Narcotics Division has a particularly difficult case and I’ve seconded you to them. We’ll discuss that later.”

Cursing, Goddard grabbed paperwork and stalked out of the office.

* * *

The red-haired inspector stormed down the corridor. “Goddamn fucking metrosexual…” he muttered to himself. Then stopped. The past few weeks had been stressful to say the very least. A tired grin crossed his face as the words of his old granny echoed in his ear: Hello pot, kettle calling…

He slowed his pace and returned to his office to continue his investigation until the meeting. You’ll be mine, Alec Reynard, if it’s the last thing I ever do…

* * * 
A bucket of water woke him suddenly as he choked and sputtered as the liquid invaded his nose and throat.

“Well, the famous inspector is awake, time for more fun!” The man had thick features and porcine eyes. He spoke English with a thick French accent.

Iain raised his head and looked at the speaker. Then spat into his face. For that, he received a backhanded slap that set him swinging in his chains.

The last thing he remembered was seeing his Interpol partner fall to the ground and a blow to the back of his head that made him see stars and spun him into blackness. He had woken to find himself stripped nearly naked; he was handcuffed with his arms pulled painfully over his head; a chain connected the cuffs and was fastened over some heavy pipes overhead. His legs were spread wide and his ankles were fastened to cuffs connected to eyehooks in the floor.

Goddard took a shuddering breath – his arms were completely numb and at least two ribs were broken. Every breath was an agony. The criminals had been far busier with Egon Schmidt. He was strung up as he was and a series of Arabic words had been carved into the other man’s chest with trails of blood dripping down his torso; his face was a mass of cuts and bruises and he was gasping in pain and terror.

“This one has told us everything he could. Get rid of him.” Another of his captors took a scalpel from a table and gashed the side of Egon’s throat. Iain flinched as the man strangled on his own blood and sagged lifeless in his chains.

“At least you show some spirit, Inspector Red Head...” He pronounced the title like a curse. “You may have interrupted our pipeline from Damascus, but you haven’t stopped it. Despite the anger of our investors, they  have offered us quite a prize for keeping you alive and in relatively good health. Nothing will be more pleasing to see you suffer the tortures of the damned as a slave for some – how do you call it? – ‘Pakky’ drug lord.”

Iain’s heart seized in his chest. “Fuck you!” he growled.

The French criminal gave a malevolent chuckle. “I don’t think so, mon ami … but I am sure you will be experiencing that first-hand … and quite often.”

Goddard twisted in his chains, his restraints making a loud rattling in the relative quiet of the warehouse. The noise had masked the approach of two other men and he twitched as a new voice spoke behind him.

“A most delightful specimen. I am pleased, Monsieur Bertrand.” He shivered as a finger trailed down his spine.The voice had the clipped perfection of the most rarified of British society.

The man stepped around him. The arab wore a dark business suit with a shemagh on his head. He was heroically built though smaller in stature than Goddard and his beard was razor-cut with precision into several geometric shapes on his chiseled face. A hand flashed out to grab Iain by his jaw and a powerful arm twisted the Scot’s head back and forth as he would inspect an animal for purchase. Or slaughter.

“Most delightful, indeed…Moustaffa, what say you?”

The other arab that had been running hands along Iain's body stopped and stood beside the sheik. He was far more heavily built than his companion. And at least six and a half feet tall. A silky black compression shirt was stretched tightly over a muscular body and tucked into a pair of black cargo pants. Dark eyes – nearly black – were surmounted by expressive brows and a shaved head. The other man continued to examine Goddard’s physique, with strong hands exploring every inch of the inspector’s body.

“He will do, Excellence. Once we remove his tongue and teeth, he will be taught how to pleasure your clientele as befits a slave.” He slid a hand into Goddard's trunks and grasped Iain’s manhood, giving it a firm squeeze. “Do you wish this one gelded as well? A red-haired breeder would be a rarity, my Lord.”

The sheik gave his underling a hard stare. “Fool! Gelding is a requirement above all else! My slaves are things, not men!” He turned to the criminal, who had gone slightly green at the exchange.

“Come, Monsieur Bertrand, I wish to know the extent of the damage Interpol has done to our operations.” He strode away and the other man hurried to follow.

Iain glared at Moustaffa, as the sheik’s underling continued to examine him. Despite his huge hands, his touch was extremely gentle. He paused as Iain winced when his fingers passed over the broken ribs. The arab looked into the whiskey-brown eyes and pitched his voice so low only the captive could hear. “Get ready, sir. Flash-bang in a few.”

* * *

Iain was shocked to hear those words, but screwed his eyes shut. In the span of a few heartbeats, an actinic glare glowed blood-red behind his eyelids and an explosion rocked the warehouse as tinkling shards of glass rained down upon them. Goddard found himself quickly freed from his restraints and slung over Moustaffa’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He was vaguely aware of black-clad men in body armor and assault weapons moving throughout the building and the shrieking pain in his torso as he and his rescuer burst out of the warehouse and into the open air. Once out of the building, the arab switched his position and carried the inspector in his arms as he would a small child. The two headed to a waiting ambulance. Moustaffa moved with a speed and grace as if Iain were weightless.

“No worries, sir. You’re safe now. We’re sorry we didn’t arrive sooner, but it took time to find you. We had to kill a number of people to get the information.... No one of any import, though…” He added offhandedly.

“Who … who are you…?” Iain was disoriented from the torture and the flash-bang assault that freed him. He was having problems catching his breath from the broken ribs and his head was spinning from the pain.

Moustaffa laid him on a gurney and two medics began the process of stabilizing him. He flinched as several needles were inserted into his arms and he watched as the glucose and saline drips began. A cervical brace was fastened around his neck and he sank gratefully into the soft pillow and surface of the gurney’s mattress. He was then lightly strapped in place.

“Friends, sir. That’s all you need to know right now.” He turned to the medics and gave them a nod. Iain felt the pain recede and soon slipped into unconsciousness as the sedatives took hold.

Another man in black armor strode over to the sleeping Goddard. He wore an assault helmet, goggles and balaclava; a gloved hand gently stroked the inspector’s forehead. A walkie-talkie crackled at his waist, the progress of the assault and rescue broadcast by multiple voices. He smelled of cordite and death.

He turned to the medics “How is he?”

“Nothing life-threatening, Mr. Reynard. Broken ribs, bad bruising, not much else. Maybe a concussion. We’ll drive the stolen ambulance back to the hospital at Rouen and let them take it from there.”

Alec nodded as the two men bustled the inspector into the ambulance and drove off. He pulled off the mask and helmet and turned to Moustaffa. His blue eyes blazed and his face was set in hard lines reminiscent of an avenging angel.

“What about Bertrand?”

“Asim has him under guard. The other ones in the warehouse are all dead. We killed the rest of the gang to get the information about this location. All the drugs have been gathered up, as well as the cash. What do you want to do with him?”

“I rather like your suggestions when you were giving your speech about turning Iain into a slave. Pull out his teeth, rip out his tongue and cut off his cock and balls.”

Reynard stalked away. He stopped and turned around to his lieutenant. “And then flay every inch of skin off his goddamned body.”

* * *

After yesterday's photo shoot, I had a burst of creative energy to write. So - no time like the present!!!

It appears that Jessie did not quite know the extent Alec Reynard would go to protect the man he loves. Despite being a con man, there is a vast, untapped well of violence that Alec can (and will) dive into. This part of the saga is a bit of an interlude piece to set Iain's path after the theft of the Davinci portfolio. You can see here that his talents are somewhat dismissed by his superiors at Interpol and this rankles his immensely. What I haven't decided yet is whether the narcotics assignment was done on purpose to eliminate him. I don't know if this will introduce too much complexity into the story. But one thing I know for certain - Iain will discover that his superiors did nothing to save him. This also gives the reader a bit of inside knowledge to the extent of Lucio Giambi's reach - I've always said that Giambi's empire spans the world, but his influence in the Middle East was something I've only hinted at previously. (Points to the reader who can point to which particular story!)

Stay tuned for more on Iain and Alec!

Ginger-licious!!!

Rather than hold up "Cat and Mouse: Part II" for the pics, I decided to post the story and add pictures later.

Well, they're in now!!

Take a look at Cat and Mouse: Part II again to get some pictures of my sexy Scottish inspector!!

Interlude ...

Going to wrap my arms around you, hold you close to me ... ooohh Babe, I want to taste your lips, I want to fill your fantasy ...

Gary Taylor ... mmmmmmmm!

Cat and Mouse - Part II

(Don't forget to read Part I first! ed.)

Iain settled comfortably into the leather seat as he drove up from the port of Monte Carlo to his appointment. The convertible purred up the steep roads and as he navigated several hairpin turns; the Mediterranean sparkled a wine-dark blue beneath him.

At last, he reached his destination – a wall of filigreed iron closed off the road ahead. He got out of the car and pressed the intercom button on one of the posts.

“This is Inspector Goddard – I’m here to see Mrs. Bascomb.”

After a moment there was a “click”; the gates swung open and he continued on his way.

Traveling on another long, curving stretch, he finally arrived at the house. It was large, but not as ostentatious as some of the other mansions that he had seen on his way to his destination. As he pulled into the port-cochere, the door opened and a woman stepped out to greet him.

Now that’s a surprise. From his information, Jessica Bascomb was in her fifties, but opposed to other women who fought tooth and nail against their age, the woman before him had decided to accept it with grace. She was slightly plump, with short, curly auburn hair and a pair of merry blue eyes. A delicately printed floral dress fluttered in the warm breeze.

He got out of the car. “Mrs. Bascomb? I’m Inspector Iain Goddard of Scotland Yard. Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

“Please call me Jessie, Inspector … no need to be so formal around me! I thought we’d talk in the solarium – it’s so much cooler in there. Please follow me.”

Goddard followed the woman through the house until they reached the sun room. It was indeed cooler and the woman gestured him to have a seat in one of the thickly cushioned wicker chairs.

“Lemonade or iced tea, Inspector?” She reminds me so much of my granny…

“Lemonade, thank you. And please call me Iain.”

Jessie poured a glass for him and one for herself. She sat down across from him.

“Now, what can I do to help you, Iain?”

He took a sip of the cool liquid. “You see, I’ve been investigating a number of crimes here in Europe – forgeries, confidence games and various thefts. I’m of the mind that they were committed by one man – even though my superiors believe me daft.”

He leaned forward. “I understand that you’ve recently put in an insurance claim for a lost diamond necklace – is that correct?”

The older woman gave him a smile. “Oh, that … well, it was actually my daughter that filed the claim.  Jeanne can be a little … possessive … when it comes to my jewelry.” She sighed. “I love her dearly, but her father had spoiled her rotten and she threw a hissy fit when she found the necklace missing.”

“But Jessie … that claim was for $400,000! That’s an awfully expensive piece to lose! When was it stolen?”

“About two weeks ago …” She stopped as  she realized the trap the Inspector had set for her.

He gave her a wink and smile. “Among the other areas of my investigations were jewel robberies. Now … is there anything you’d like to tell me, Jessie?”

She patted his knee. “Oh, you’re good, Iain.  Very good.  Well, the necklace wasn’t exactly lost. I sort of let Alec steal it.”

* * *

“What???”

She arched an eyebrow. “Inspector, if you did your homework, you'd know my  husband was Harry Bascomb – one of the most successful con men in America about 20 years ago. When things got a little too hot for us there,  we had to leave in a hurry.  Randy – my husband’s old partner – he was a jewel thief, you know – helped us retire here.”

Iain was amazed at the tale spinning out before him.

“So when Alec came arrived at the villa, I knew he was a con-man immediately. But he reminded me so much of Harry at his age, that I just had to test his skills.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I’m a romantic, Inspector. You’ll have to forgive me for being a silly old woman.”

“You mentioned the name Alec – do you have a last name?”

“Alec Reynard. But I’m sure that’s an alias. He had several passports as well – all with different names and nationalities. Alan Cooke, Carlo Vincenti, Aaron Carstairs  … but he’s definitely an American, I can tell you that.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was tall – about 6 feet – your height - with wavy black hair and the most incredible blue eyes.  He always had a bit of a 5 o’clock shadow – even early in the morning.”

“Jessie, would you be willing to have a police artist come by to give me a sketch of this Reynard?”

Bascomb laughed. “Oh, I can do better than that, Iain – I’m sure Joseph has some photos!”

“Joseph?” Goddard somehow felt Jessie was the one now running the interview, not him.

Her eyes twinkled. “My … driver. He’s also in charge of security here at the villa.  Alec and he became very close. I think he’s out by the pool. He usually does his laps around this time of day.”

* * *

The two got up and walked through the house and stopped at another door. Jessie knocked, turned the knob and they walked in.

Iain’s breath caught in his throat.  In front of the sliding French doors, stood a naked man. The breeze at that moment has swept part of the curtain around his torso, but the inspector drank  in the sight before him.  The trim muscular body was accented by elaborate blackwork tattoos that swept up from one perfect pectoral, across a muscular shoulder and down a powerful arm.

A well-trimmed, tightly cropped beard accented a square jaw and full lips and wavy black hair topped a pair of brilliant verdant eyes. The glow from the Mediterranean sun made Joseph inhumanly beautiful against the backdrop of the airy  room. Iain stared at a male body of such temptation that he had no doubt Satan himself had laughed on the day of its creation. Goddard felt his cock begin to slither down his pants leg and the naked man quickly noticed the response and gave him a wicked smirk.

“Joseph, dear, this is Inspector Goddard. From Scotland Yard. Pull on a Speedo or something and meet us out at the pool. We need to talk about Alec and the necklace.”

“Sure Jessie … I’ll be right out.” He gave both of them a happy grin and proceeded to walk over to the dresser to find a swimsuit.  

Mmmm … nice ass. Iain thought as he looked at the muscular globes as the man moved. There was a noticeable (but minimal) tan line around his crotch and butt.

Jessie and the inspector strolled thru the French doors and onto the patio surrounding a large pool. The two settled under a large umbrella to wait for the chauffeur. As in the solarium, a pitcher of iced tea and lemonade was present on the table.

In a few moments, the door opened  and Joseph walked out to join them. Loped would have been a better term; every step he took incited erotic thoughts. He was wearing a small black Speedo that did nothing to hide the etched abs, trim torso and substantial manhood. The swimsuit set off his lightly oiled skin and tattoos. Iain could not take his eyes off of him. He gave Jessie a kiss on the top of her head and put his hand out to Goddard. The two shook.

“Joseph Dean Franklin – at your service, Inspector. My friends call me JD.”

He sat down.

Iain spoke first. “Jessie, forgive me for being blunt, but are you and Joseph…??”

She laughed. It was such a wonderful sound. “Inspector, at my age,  I prefer a nice hot bath and a good book. Although Joseph definitely keeps the tongues wagging among the neighbors with his appearance. I just love the scandal he and I invent!”

The chauffeur grinned. “Uh-huh … Jessie and I definitely come up with things to make their  blood boil!”

Bascomb continued. “And I can safely say that all of us present here prefer our men tall, dark, handsome and with a dash of scoundrel thrown in. And naked - or near naked, of course.”

“I … I…” Goddard blushed scarlet.

“Oh, come on now, Inspector…” Joseph grinned as his long fingers danced along Goddard’s thigh. “… Jessie’s gaydar is second to none. I’m as queer as a three-dollar bill and from the way you reacted to me in the room and now at the pool... So.  Are.  You.” He gave the Scot's crotch a gentle squeeze.

Jessie cleared her throat. “Play time later, sweetie. The Inspector came up to talk about Alec. Do you have any pictures of him?”

Franklin nodded. “Got a bunch.  He turned to the ginger-haired policeman. “G-rated ones, right?”

“Y-yes… thank you.” Goddard nodded weakly.

“Be right back.” He jogged back into the house.

Iain turned back to Jessie, who was giving him a sweet smile. “How well did Alec and Joseph get to know each other?”

She gave him an exaggerated wink. “Biblically.”

Goddard ran a hand through his short hair and closed his eyes. He had no idea how the interview went sideways so quickly. Darkly sexual images flashed through his mind. Tanned inked flesh in a back alley. Sweaty  sex against a brick wall. No!! I’ve a job to do and a criminal to catch. After a deep, shaky exhalation, the inspector had regained his composure and hopefully, control of the situation.

Franklin returned and handed Goddard a couple of photos. Iain just stared at the pictures in his hands.

My God … Iain felt his resolve begin to crumble. Again. The man in the photographs was even more handsome than the one in front of him. Iain’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the sensuous smile and bright blue eyes. Reynard sported a bit of stubble on his face and with his tousled black hair, reminded the inspector of an angel. Most likely of the fallen variety. There was a wicked playfulness in the man in the photo that made the inspector’s breath catch in his throat. Even fully clothed, Goddard could tell that Alec's physique in the pictures was more than equal to the erotic vision sitting before him.

“Stunning, isn’t he?” JD leaned back in the chair. The Speedo’s tight silky material accented the driver’s package. Damn, he’s at least seven inches soft. Cut, too.

“It was lust at first sight for me. He’s absolutely amazing, Inspector. Best sex in my life. Before, during AND after.  Incredible kisser, too. He’s the most considerate man in and out of bed that I’ve ever met. As well as a most accomplished con man and a wizard when it comes to cracking safes and picking locks."

Iain traced a finger along the jawline in the photo. “Can you tell me how he managed to steal the necklace?”

Joseph nodded. “Well, after a marathon suck and fuck session, we were both exhausted. I think he melted me or something. We fell asleep in each others' arms. However, he obviously wasn’t as tired as I was and he managed to get my keycards for the room where Jessie’s safe was located.”

“How did you find out?”

“I have proximity sensors built into the plastic. The clock-radio next to my bed starts flashing if the cards are further than 2 feet from the bed. The light gets brighter and brighter the further the cards get. Naturally I woke up with the room flashing like a demented disco and knew exactly what happened. I can tell you, I was fucking pissed that I got fooled so easily.”

“What happened then?”

“I was so goddamn angry that I got out of bed – still naked – and went after Alec. I crept into Jessie’s dressing room and I found him. He had cracked the safe combination and was just looking at the necklace in his hands. I didn’t really notice it then, but he had a really sad expression.  I grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and punched him in the face.”

JD paused. Goddard motioned him to continue. Joseph noticed that the policeman’s cock was now straining at the fabric of his pants and his breathing had sped up at the description of events. Interesting.

“I stunned him and the necklace dropped to the carpet. We started attacking each other. Then I tackled him. We were rolling on the floor, exchanging blows, knocking furniture over and causing a major ruckus.”

Jessie broke in. “I heard the crash of the Waterford table lamp and rushed out of my bedroom. Now, picture this – I was in my nightgown and curlers …  I see Joseph and Alec – naked as jay birds – pummeling each other on the floor. I couldn’t help myself – I started laughing and I said the first thing that came to mind.”

She waited a beat. “ ‘Don’t you boys need lube for that?’ ”

As the saga unfurled, Goddard had been sipping a glass of lemonade. At that moment, he had  taken a mouthful of the tangy drink and when Bascomb recounted the line, he sprayed the liquid out and began to choke.

Joseph jumped up and thumped him on the back. As the coughing fit subsided, Iain started laughing and was joined by the other two. It took a while for the gales of laughter to subside to weak chuckles.

“That stopped them fighting then and there.  Alec looked terribly embarrassed and tried to cover himself up with a doily.”

JD raised dark eyebrows and chimed in. “And I didn’t look embarrassed?”

Jessie patted his muscular thigh and smiled. “Of course not, Joseph dear, you’re absolutely shameless… and I wouldn’t have you any other way…”

He gave a happy shrug and nodded. “Yep. True. Very true.”

Jessie turned to the inspector. “After the boys got dressed, I sat Alec down and went through some of the obvious mistakes he had made. He was shocked – shocked that I had caught onto him so quickly. And that I had played the supposed player so well. At that point, I did let him know my pedigree, so it actually became more of a learning experience for him. I do see a great deal of potential in him, Iain – as I think you have as well. I don’t think many men would have leapt to the conclusion you did that all of these different crimes were done by a single man. And … Alec is a very impressive man in so many ways.” Her eyes sparkled.

“You still haven’t told me what happened to the necklace, Jessie.”

“Well, he had to do some community service for me, Iain … until his bruises healed, I had dark-haired, beat up bad boys on each arm. I can tell you that some of the other French biddies here were absolutely seething with jealousy – the look on their faces was well worth it!”

Goddard shook his head with admiration. “You are a firecracker, Jessie. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Jessie laughter tinkled. “Not as often as I’d like, but when you say it with that burr of yours, it sounds so naughty!”

“But back to the necklace. After I pointed out some improvements, I told him that I wouldn’t report him to the authorities if he could pull off a caper to my and Joseph’s satisfaction.”

At his puzzled look, Jessie continued. “Joseph is my godson and Randy Franklin’s son. I daresay that Joseph is an even better jewel thief than his father.”

The young criminal made a sweeping bow from his chair and gave the Inspector a broad smile. He held up Goddard’s wristwatch and wallet.

“You forgot 'expert pickpocket' as well, Jessie.”

Franklin gave the items back to Goddard and then picked up the story. “So Jessie and I gave Alec an assignment. Diedre Van Huele was having an affair behind her husband’s back and we told Alec he had to steal her necklace and plant it on her boyfriend.”

“Good Lord, that was Alec's doing?” Goddard was stunned. The case had been completely airtight against Van Huele’s lover and he was currently serving 20 years in prison.

JD gave the inspector a sour look. “Frederico deserved it. He was a conniving little shit that would fuck anything with a pulse if he could get something out of it. He would have stolen something from her sooner or later. We just made sure that he didn’t have the chance to really hurt her or her marriage. She can be a bit prissy at times, but she does have a good heart.”

“So for a job well done, I gave Alec my necklace.” Jessie sighed. “If only Jeanne hadn’t been in such a tizzy to deck herself out in my jewels, this whole incident would have been too obscure to anything else for you to make a connection.”

She patted Goddard’s thigh once more. “But then again, I wouldn’t have had a chance to meet such a handsome and brilliant man as yourself. If you catch Alec, Inspector, promise me you won’t hurt him?”

Goddard stood up and tucked the photos into his coat pocket. He took Jessie’s hand and gave it a kiss. “It’s  ‘When’,  Jessie – not ‘If’ – and I promise I’ll do my best.  But I have to get moving on this information. Perhaps my superiors will finally begin listening to me. Thank you both for your help…”

He smiled. “… and the lemonade. I can see myself out.” The broad-shouldered policeman  walked down the driveway to his car.

* * *

Joseph stretched in the chair. “Well, Alec was right about our esteemed Inspector Goddard … brilliant, handsome and so deep in the closet you'd need the jaws of life to get him out. You think Iain is falling in love with him?”

“Is falling? Has fallen. You saw how he was stroking those photos. They’re perfect for each other. Alec has already fallen for him. I know so, sweetie. At last I can tell him the feelings are mutual. It's just going to take a little nudge here and there to get those two together.”

“What does Lucio think of his Mediterranean chief of operations playing matchmaker?”

“Lucio is always looking for new talent, Joseph. It’s up to us – all of us, you included – to keep our eyes out. When are you finishing your soldieri Training?”

“I go back to Marseilles for the Full Training in two weeks. I’m afraid the biddies around here will have nothing to gossip about for a month and half with both myself and Alec in absentia.”

“I’ll figure something out…” A playful moue brightened her face. “… maybe that I sent you to a Swiss clinic that specializes in enhancing already huge male endowments…”

JD cocked an eyebrow and gave her a dark look as he dove into the pool.

* * *

As with the "Stinger" story arc, I've decided to take the same approach here with "Cat and Mouse." Why? A number of reasons have been conspiring against me to finish this story - chief among them an overall bad mood with no desire to write (or even mask) and lousy conditions at work. Nevertheless, during some time when I was in a good mood, I got this much of the story completed. I'm guessing at this point I'm somewhere around the 60-66% mark. I haven't quite yet decided how Iain and Alec are going to finally come together or if there will be some more action, but I'm hoping that that will occur before the end of the year.

Stay tuned!!