Stop Story: The Gold Mask

Oh, um, achem, excuse me, I got a little sidetracked there reminiscing. The important thing though was that Alice and I were back together, and from what I could tell, she was on my side. She came clean to me. We started to walk down the hill, into the circus valley.

She explained to me that after she heard from me about the possible robbery, she contacted DuFarge to work out a plan with him to secure the most loot. At that point, she told me, it was all business, nothing personal. DuFarge never did anything over the phone that he could do in person, so she had to meet DuFarge in France before the robbery, which she did, and only barely made it back in time for the heist. She didn't even bother with an alibi, she told me. She thought it would be seem more like her to simply disappear for a while. And she did. And it did seem more like her.

Well, she admitted to me that she had grown pretty attached to me over the course of our robbery and the rest of our escapade. Her emotions got in the way, and she almost didn't follow through with her plan, but then she decided that it was safer and wiser to stick with the DuFarge. DuFarge, after all, is a very powerful enemy. So DuFarge's chef specially ordered and assembled a poisonous pufferfish sushi roll, it was fed to me, and the chateaux was quickly, but meticulously emptied.

She thought she'd never see me after that, and then she told me that she missed me. That's when I realized that Alice loved me. When she said she missed me, she really meant she loved me. It wouldn't be Alice to tell me any other way.

I told her that I had missed her too.

As we saw the first circus tents in detail, she got to the most recent news.
DuFarge had fallen ill during the short trip from his chateaux to his summer palace. He loved when the circus came to town, and since he was not well enough to make the voyage to the circus, he instead decided that he would pay to have the circus come to him. Alice, of course, was currently acting as his messenger.

She went to talk to the ringleader to hire a couple of performers, and I thought I might as well return the peahen. I handed over the bird. I saw a line of three jesters emerge from the big top. They each had their faces uniquely painted. As I watched them waddle towards the camels, I called Alice over. "Alice, I have an idea." STOP.

I'm reserving the next issue of the story, so don't write anything!
Also, if you'd like to see something cool that I did, reread the second paragraph in this issue and then read the reply marked #12 on the first page.

Actually, I don't like that I reserved the next section of the story, that's not the purpose of the game. Sorry about that. I'll make a quick transition to the next person's post:

And so, about forty minutes later, Alice led a line of four jesters back up the path to DuFarge's. I took up the rear, my face completely painted. As I had no real musical or acrobatic skills, so I was given an old, partway broken tambourine to fit in. If all went well, however, I would leave DuFarge's with a certain mask on my face.

STOP.

Take it away.

continuation of story

"Alice, do you know anything about chemistry? I have a plan."

We walked into a quiet corner behind the tent.

"I've got a way of distracting DuFarge. If it works, I can grab the mask and you'll look like you had nothing to do with it Baby, we'll meet and split the profit fifty-fifty later."

I always like calling my favorite women Baby, I got it from Bogart. When she heard the term fifty-fifty, my Baby was all ears.

"Gee Honey, after all I've done to you, you still care," she cooed, and gave me a kiss.

"Do you feel like making with a few tears? Do ya Honey?"

"I'll do anything for you, you know that."

"So here's what I want you to do."

What came after that was all whispers and innuendo.

I painted my face and tripped after the other jesters, looking like an escapee from the Circe de Solie.

The back ground under the big top was supposed to be in in Paris so I fit in just right. Dufarge had a front row seat with his bodyguard beside him.
We performed the usual stuff. The exploding umbrella,the car that fell apart.
The clever repartee dialogue. Soon Dufarge was almost rolling in the isle, bend over with laughter.

All this time Alice was in the kitchen mixing up my magic potion. When no one was looking, she substituted my magic mix for the bottle made for the smoke machine.

Then the Seine background rolled down. It was time to add fog and be French. I put on my gas mask. Don't ask where I got it, this is a low-budget story. Things just pop up.

"Look," snickered Dufarge, "One of the jesters is wearing a gas mask, how funny!"

It wasn't so funny when the "Paris fog" hit him in the face. He started bawling then. That was my payback for puffer-fish sushi. Alice started crying too. That is, until they were so disoriented they nearly passed out.

I had a few minutes to search for the mask, so that's what I did.

Although the gas didn't knock me out, it did do it's theatrical job, and was quite a bit cloudier than I remember Parisian fog to be. I had adequate time though, so I left DuFarge's theatre and walked into the adjacent room, which housed all of his collection in a fashion comparable to a small museum.

I walked around the perimeter: glass cases full of artifacts, vases worth more than your annual county jail salary. I even passed that painting of DuFarge from the chateaux, the one where he looks like he's better than anyone. But none of that was of any interest to me. It was as though I had tunnel vision. Sure these other valuables were worthy of DuFarge, but none of them came close to the sentimental value of that mask, none of them were worthy of a Worth. It wasn't about the money anymore, it was about revenge.

I found the mask sandwiched between two tall, bright windows. I reached up and took it off the wall. I had the face in my hands and it was beautiful. I wanted a better look of it. I took off the fly-face gas-mask.

Now, I like to think the mask was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes, and then I passed out because it was too powerful, but the gas was in that room too, so draw your own conclusions.

When I opened my eyes again, they were still teary. It was very bright and blurry, but I was sure I was looking at a human. As I reached to rub the liquid from my eyes, I came to realize that I was in some sort of vehicle.

Alice was driving and I was in the passenger's seat. I looked outside. We were still in the countryside and the sun was directly in my eyes. I blinked and shifted my weight. Alice looked at me briefly, "Good morning."

I groaned. In two days I had been chemically forced out of consciousness twice. Once by DuFarge and once by my own doing.

"You must be hungry," said Alice, handing me half of a croissant. She was right, my stomach felt more empty than DuFarge's chateaux. I sunk my teeth into the pastry. It required that I rip it with my teeth like a lion tears apart a raw steak, it was so stale. This was the stalest I'd had, but on account of my hunger, it was also the best I'd had.

"Thank you, Miss Jennings," I said and watched her smile at my unnecessary professionalism, "Now, where is the mask?"

"Behind you," she instructed me.

I turned around in my seat to see the mask sitting patiently in the back seat. Next to it was the old tambourine I was given for the performance. "You kept that old thing?" I asked her.

She smiled and told me to pick it up and try to figure out why she did. It jingled as I brought it to my lap. Was it some sort of antique? If so, it was in terrible condition, the film on top had been punctured and was beyond repair. The wood was split in the middle.

"What is it?"

"DuFarge's coin collection."

Puzzled, I peered closer, looking at the tiny cymbals embedded in the wood frame of the tambourine. They were, indeed, coins. Ancient Chinese coins. The ones with the holes in them. I chuckled at how clever she was.

After a period of silence, it dawned on me that I had no idea where we were driving. We couldn't go back to England because we might have been fugitives - and might be now in France, although I couldn't imagine that DuFarge would phone the police to catch us, he had too many illegally acquired possessions to risk a crime scene investigation in his home. I also determined that if it was morning and the sun was in my eyes, that meant we were headed East. Being in the south of France, that meant one country - Italy.

I asked Alice if this was true and she confirmed it. Her vague plan was to cross the border into Italy, find the nearest (and hopefully small, low-security) airport, and then leave Europe altogether; we'd go to my place in Egypt, sell the coins or mask or both, and live together forever.

I loved the idea. I even fantasized of Alice recreating her Oscar performance with me in view of the pyramids. However, it seemed like that was all it would amount to be - a distant, unattainable fantasy.

The Alps came into view.

STOP.

It was all uphill from here.

The road wound up and around and as it did the views became spectacular.

To the right were alpine valleys and to the left small businesses hidden between the folds of the mountains. The Swiss were good at out of the way places and good at hiding things out for that matter. For a moment I considered stashing the money we'd make from the mask in a Swiss bank account.

As we continued up into the mountains, Alice suggested,

"I saw a telescope, mounted on the wall one of the switchbacks. Why don't we pull over for a second and enjoy the view?"

"Sure, why not."

I pulled over and took the chance to stretch my feet. Alice walked to the telescope and peered down into the valley.

"It's scenic as all get-out," she stated, " Take a look, Honey. It's picture perfect, like out of a movie."

I took my turn. It was true, you could see everything. In a way, it was like turning back time. How far back? At least to the sixties, that's what I figured. For one single reason. What I saw made me question my eyes if not my sanity.

Maybe the altitude was getting to me!

There, between two snow-capped peaks, was a factory surrounded by a chain-link fence. The buildings were rusted corrugated iron. At the end of one of the driveways between the buildings was a large mirror. That's what caught my attention. It flashed in the sunlight on a rusted car pierced with small holes.

I focused the scope even closer.

They were bullet holes! Bullet holes? Bullet holes! And it wasn't just any car. It was an Aston Martin! Why would anyone trash such an expensive car? I had no idea. Then I pivoted the telescope to the left and saw a name painted on one of the buildings. It read,

"AURIC ENTERPRISES"

I swear it's all true. I wouldn't lie about a thing like this. I give you my BOND on it!

What the hell was going on?

STOP

I passed the telescope, still focused on the factory, to Alice. She stared through it for a moment until we both heard a click, and immediately everything went pitch black for her. We had run out of time.

We had also run out of change, so there was no way of seeing through the telescope any longer. Alice looked up at me. She had seen it too, if only for an instant. We went back in the car and sat in silence for some time. Alice turned the key and started to drive down a series of hairpin turns. STOP.

As she made her way down the mountain I heard the horn of a large black Mercedes Benz sound behind us. Turning in the seat, I saw six Chinese bullies trying to motion us over,and every one of them, with exception of the driver, was holding a Luger automatic. Damn criminal Chinese thugs anyway, doing apprenticships in Internatonal Gangster!

I searched for the oil-slick button and started pushing every button on the dashboad.

But, just as Alice pulled into the bend of a hair-pin turn, I found the sucker.

The effect was catastrophic!

The driver turned and applied the brake simultaneously, but the friction simply was not there. His efforts were fruitless. They slid off the road and the Mercedes plummeted down the mountain rhythmically.

Alice stopped our car and scolded me with her frightened eyes, silently, until the sounds of rolling metal ceased. "What have you done?"

It was the second most surprising thing she had ever asked me. She was comfortable poisoning me and leaving my body in France. She was fine when it came to knocking out DuFarge and robbing him. But when a carload of Chinese weapon-wielding gangsters had us in hot pursuit, the use of oil was crossing the line.

She started driving down the mountain, much slower now, until we arrived at the wreck. The car was on its side having been stopped by a tall Alpine tree. One of the men were dragging the others out of the wreckage. Alice stopped the car, got out, and hurried to help him. I followed her, still not trusting these men.

The Mercedes, ( 7 series for backdrop information ), when descending the mountain, had happily attained a rhythm somewhat reminiscent of the Beatle's number "Hey Jude." The Chinese occupants, familiar with this tune from the preface of Chairman Mao's little red book, found it reassuring and as each tree was hit, responded in a joyful, bracing response: " Dah, Dah, Dah,Dah Dah Dah Dah / Dah, Dah Dah daha / Hey Jude."

Eventually the car came to a halt and albeit on it's side, Divine Providence had ensured that although the Chinese gangsters were shaken, they would still live to enjoy the Year of the Rat. Mind you, the driver was somewhat miffed and expressed himself in a rather unconventional and uncharacteristic Oriental manner. "Fluck this for a game of soldier boys. Wat a mistake to make a!" I should perhaps explain at this juncture, that he had worked previously in both a Chinese & an Italian restaurant prior to graduating to a life of crime.

The other two main characters of this torrid tale had, in the meantime drawn up and the woman approached them across the scarred slope, broken trees and unopened containers of instant pot noodles.

She seemed to have about her an air of expectancy and the sunshine shafting down the valley from her rear, outlined the handcuffs on her belt and the promise in her loins. The hood from Canton experienced a serpentine insurrection at a perpendicular angle to his glutes, whilst others stood in nervous expectation as to what would happen next.

How was I to know Alice carried hand-cuffs? I wasn't. Alice had a ready answer. Alice always had a ready answer for everything.

"Don't be surprised, Darling, I was saving them for you as a surprise.The hotel room has a beautiful four poster said to have been owned by Cardinal Richeleau. The one in Hearst Castle is only a copy."

Then Alice grew pensive.

"It would have been sooo romantic! But now I'll use them on him!"

Quickly and with no mercy she handcuffed the driver forthwith. The others I tied up like noodles while they were still stunned from the impact. The car was a trash heap, the Chinese were as tangled up as uncooked Ramen, and Alice and I were completly untouched and completely in charge, which brought up an unsettling thought.

'Funny, I never knew my sweet Alice was into bondage. Some women you just can't figure.'

Ha ha. You have got this goldern oldie going again Steve.
Well done!

Alice approached the Chinese boys, now seated up against the cars. She went up to one of them, kneeled down to his level, and squeezed his fat, rotund cheeks together with one hand.

"Who sent you?" said she.

The poor Chinese lad slid his eyes around to glance at his comrades for sympathy. Alice shook her vice grip on his face, jostling his brain. Say, you could learn something from Alice, she always gave a real interrogation. But anyway, the Chinese boy winced and whimpered and simply said "DuFarge."

Alice and I both looked at each other. How the hell did he know where we'd gone?

I was pissed Alice had set me up once again, but after a short inspection of the belly of our vehicle, I found that DuFarge had played the GPS tracker card on me that I had pulled on him and his bird. I removed it and put it in my back pocket. I figured if I found a snowfinch that would let me get close enough to it, I'd attach the tracker to it and DuFarge would find himself following a migration path.

Alice reentered our car, and I followed.

Alice began to take the driver's seat. I was up to my neck in DuFarge, and wanted him at the end of a rope.

"Don't sit there!" I barked, "I'm in the driver's seat now."

Alice gave me a look, well, you know what kind of look.

"I've had enough of Dufarge. We'll never get out of Europea alive, and even if we do, he has the resources to follow us to the ends of the earth."

"And beyond!" she nodded her head. I liked it when Alice nodded her head, or when she was yawning threw her head back and stretched to the ceilng. I liked how her hair hung just now, crazy-tossled from the near impact with danger.

"There's only one answer to the problem of DuFarge," I continued, "We need something fool-proof and final."

Alice wasn't Alice Blue Gown at this moment. She was wearing her long slinkly black velvet dress with the diamond spagetti straps and the slit on the side.

She uncrossed her legs and drew them apart at the knees. The leg nearest me was uncovered just past the knee. Alice put her hand on her hip and bunched it up even more, revealing the dark metalic form of a small automatic held fast with her garter. She patted it affectionately.

"Something that will solve The Dufarge Problem once and for all."

"Yes," I answered, smiled sincere as all get out, and put the car in a looping U-turn and now Alice was on the left side, and had an expansive view of the valleys and mountians and ribbons of water cascading below. The air was chock-full of excitement.

Alice brightened at this thought. "And then we can sell the Gold Mask and rake in money for the rest of our days!"

The hunted had decided to change the rules of the game and become the hunters instead.

STOP

We knew that DuFarge was likely to still be at the chateaux where we'd left him passed out. DuFarge, as Alice knew him, preferred to conduct his business remotely. He favored the comfort and safety of his own home, with his personal chefs, art, furniture, and birds. He was not one to give that lifestyle up unless he thought his safety was in danger.

If he were to be informed that we switched directions, he would know that we were no longer fleeing him, but pursuing him. We didn't want an elaborate chase, we wanted a quick kill. We wanted for it just to be over, for DuFarge to be off our tail, for the authorities to be off our tails; I was beginning to believe that the curse of the mask was actually true.

For being such a cunning woman, Alice is quite gullible. Once, before I left for Egypt, Alice and I were walking through one of the many tourist locations in London and we were stopped by a gypsy woman pushing her readings for £10 and Alice took her up on them and was incredibly enthralled. She was hanging on every word as if it truly was a look into her future.

I could never have brought up the curse of that mask to Alice. She's far too superstitious, especially about the ancients. So I kept my mouth shut as we drove.

STOP