Chapter 26 – Gold strike

On the night of Midas’s return, I was in the green room at the club getting myself ready as usual when I became aware of a fatal flaw in my plan. The glittering gold dress Jocasta had had chosen for me was the problem. Not only was it backless and featured a cleavage which plunged to the waist, but its skirt was tiny. What was even more troubling was that the whole thing was skintight. Where oh where could I conceal a camera even as compact as the one Guy was to bring me? Only by swallowing the thing! The miniature piece of kit would still have been visible if I tried to hide it in my panties!

As far as I could see my plan of action was a complete frost and the ex-agent would have good reason to berate me for a wasted journey on his part, not to mention my running pointless risks.

No! I would have to think again, but by the time my co-workers had arrived I was no nearer a solution. Moodily I set about my chores. It wasn’t until much later when I was engaged in clearing empty glasses from one of the tables that inspiration returned to me.

Among the glassware I had retrieved was a tall beaker half full of liquid and ice. That was nothing remarkable. We served cocktails in dozens of identical vessels every night, but this one was subtly different. The tumbler was of a dark smoky glass which was obscure enough to hide whatever the vessel contained. In a flash inspiration sped through me and my imagination took flight. It might conceivably work. The glass was dark enough to conceal… well… anything small enough to fit inside it. Casually I poured its residual contents into another empty glass and placed both on my drinks tray. All I had to do now was to find my mentor, collect the miniature camera from him as planned and my scheme would be back on track but... where, oh where was Guy?

In making my rounds I had visited every possible place, without result. Surely the man wouldn’t let a girl down in her hour of need. Perhaps he’d been held up somewhere, I conjectured, but time wasn’t on my side.

The minutes passed and my anxiety levels rose as each one ticked by. Then, at last, I clocked him. No pun intended! Though I hadn’t seen him enter the room I glimpsed my associate standing at the bar. He appeared to be toying with a martini. I breathed a sigh of relief and then, when I was about to make my way over to him, disaster struck.

“Put that tray down, Jennifer, and come with me.” The casino owner’s words sounded in my ear like the voice of doom. “Jocasta has been delayed and I need a pretty woman on my arm to make my tour. I can’t think of anyone better to take her place, my dear, than your lovely self, can you?” The racketeer’s face bore a self-satisfied smirk. “No doubt it will give the folks something to gossip about!”

He clearly thought he was paying me a compliment, and I had no choice but to do as I was bid. I slipped my hand under his elbow and tried my best to look as if I was enjoying myself as he paraded me about the rooms. I knew his choosing me for this role had resulted from the shameless way I’d thrown myself at him but it couldn’t have been timed any worse. Another worry was that if Jocasta were to return and see me elevated to play the part of Midas’s consort it might prove to be the final straw. I prayed that the lady for whom I had been substituted would remain a no-show.

As we progressed around the bar Midas stopped and chatted and sopped and chatted again, while I tried to hide the fever of impatience which consumed me under a fixed smile. We came across Alexander and I had to rouse myself to do even better. The little man was all over attention to me.

When his opening compliment smote my ears I could have died. “You have certainly done yourself proud, Midas” he called to the maestro. “Swapping this little beauty for that old sourpuss you usually drag around with you is a smart move. If you want my opinion, this one’s a keeper!”

There was much more in the same vein, and I cringed inwardly again and again while he lauded me to the skies in front of anyone who happened to be listening. When he had done, however, his eulogy had one good outcome. It decided Midas that perhaps he ought to exercise more caution in selecting a substitute companion.

“Thank you, my dear” he muttered to me. “You have done admirably but it’s best if we separate now, I think. The other girls will be hard-pressed to keep up with their work without you.”

That suited me and I breathed more easily as he took himself off to watch the show. Better still, I was able to retrieve my drinks tray, on which sat the all-important obscure glass. Holding it aloft I went across to where Guy was standing, wiggling my butt stylishly in the hope that anyone regarding me would be focussed on its gyrations instead of looking at what I was carrying.

“Drink up, sir!” I exclaimed to the ex-agent. “I have something here which you may find more your size.”

I held out my hand for his glass. Looking somewhat bemused, the sleuth obediently downed his martini, while I waited, preening myself before him. Well, I reckoned I was very seductively dressed, and the opportunity was too good to pass up! When his drink was finished, I took the empty glass from him, and placing it on my tray, picked up the smoky one and handed it over.

“I think you will find this one more suited to your needs” I smiled. “I’ll call back for it when you’re ready.” I gave a meaning glance to accompany my words, hoping against hope that my mentor would have wit enough to understand what I was intending him to do.

I walked away and busied myself over on the other side of the room, waiting for the right moment. The minutes seemed to drag endlessly until at last I observed Midas settle himself comfortably at a table to watch the floor show. Jocasta was still nowhere to be seen. I felt reasonably confident that if she were to show up, she would straightaway join the casino boss. In the meantime, I was a free agent. Now was the chance to put my plan into action.

I crossed over to Guy and stretched out my hand. “I think you have finished with that, sir?” I smiled. He placed it gently in my fingers. There was a tiny clink as he did so which told me that the glass was no longer empty. He had understood after all! I moved away with my tray held high above my head. No-one hindered my exit into the lobby. So far, my ruse appeared to be working well!

“Drink for Mr Klondyke” I announced to the man stationed on the door and walked purposefully over to the office. Once inside I lost no time in checking that I was in fact alone. There was no sign of anyone there, so taking the little camera out of the dark tumbler, I prepared to go to work.

I extracted the keys from the desk drawer and with trembling fingers, unlocked the filing cabinet. I pounced upon the folder labelled Price. With bated breath I opened it and took out its sole content, a notebook. I felt sure that whatever secrets this place held were about to be revealed and that I held the clue in my hand. I opened the slim volume to find … nothing. The pages were empty. I checked again anxiously and still came up with a blank. There was nothing for me to photograph. Frustration!

I was about to replace the book when, despairingly, I examined it one last time. Holding it up to the light I was rewarded by the sight of faint indentations on the first page. Along the binding there were traces which showed that a page had been pulled out. Those faint impressions could only be marks left by whatever writing had been on the sheet above. There was certain to be a way of discovering what had been written, but it would require expert handling, so I needed to get this to Guy. There, however, lay another puzzle. How was I to do so without being discovered in the act?

Gingerly I pulled the top sheet of paper out of the notebook, careful not to tear it. There was no way of folding the paper up small without impairing the legibility of those impressions and my skimpy gold costume did not abound in places of concealment in any case. In fact, there were precisely none! I made a single fold and placed the sheet upon my drinks tray. Fortunately, that was dry. With the tumbler placed on top of it the page resembled nothing more remarkable than a napkin.

Now for the other folder. The one whose exterior was emblazoned with the name of the very gang from whom I was still a fugitive. Feverishly I photographed the contents, sheet after sheet of paper. When I had done, I placed the camera back inside the tumbler. All I needed to do now was to get out of there with the precious results of my espionage intact.

I returned the folders to their places in the filing cabinet and, breathing more easily, locked it. Success! I was in the middle of returning the keys to the desk drawer when the sound of impending disaster came to my ears. A clatter of heels approached the door. With that confident stride, it could only be one person.

Jocasta!

There was no time for me to hide and escape discovery. Now was the time to put a back-up plan into effect except there was one small problem. I hadn’t actually made one! I would have to improvise.