This is 'flashback' time and the next will be real time.
Disclaimer: 'Tis henceforth disclaimed.
Warning: Do not try any ideas presented in this story. CONNING IS AGAINST THE LAW. Everything here is fictional, and should stay fictional.
Chapter 3: Whisper in a Woman's Ear
February 15th 2009, 19:50 – Downtown LA
Allen smoothed his hair before stepping into Anita's, the classiest club in all of LA. He gave one smirk, and then easily switched his 'Allen' mask for 'James Davidson', a gentleman looking to hired as a pianist. He walked towards the receptionist's desk, but paused in quiet surprise. It's Lou Fa! Allen thought. Damn, I didn't know she worked here! Will this disguise fool her? I mean, she stalked me day and night at university!
But Allen was a professional, and a minor issue like that was not going to stop his intent. He flashed a warm grin and greeted the woman, "Good evening ma'am. I am here to enquire about an opening for the club's pianist?"
Lou Fa continued typing on her computer, not looking up. After several seconds, the words seemed to register in her mind. Her eyes widened behind her glasses, and she jumped on her feet, holding Allen's hand.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I was just filling in some membership details; I didn't mean to ignore you! Oh, welcome to Anita's, Mister…?"
Lou Fa paused, realizing that she did not know his name. Allen didn't miss the beat, and clasped the other hand on top of hers. He gave another winning smile, certain that Lou Fa would melt. She melted for Allen, and since Allen is James…why not? He considered.
"Call me James. James Davidson – I had made an appointment to see Miss. Anita," He said.
Her face was tinged pink when she sat in front of the computer again. She looked back up at him in seconds.
"Yes, everything seems to be in order. You're quite punctual, James. Miss. Anita is waiting in her private lounge. Let me guide you there," the receptionist said.
Allen nodded graciously and allowed the girl to take him to the owner. They passed several corridors, Lou Fa giving a running commentary about all of them. Time to time, he would murmur his approval, but truthfully he did not care. Allen's eyes were searching for the prize. Lou Fa seemed to notice, and stopped in her track. The con artist crashed right into her, causing the receptionist to drop her papers. Allen apologized profusely, whilst cursing his absent-mindedness inwardly.
Lou Fa just laughed it off, and Allen saw her face tinge red. He gave a private smirk: God, she is so easy. If she's working here later on, I'll be finished ahead of time! He thanked her quietly as he walked through the ornate door that she was holding open. Allen was greeted by the most gorgeous woman. Her silken Chinese robes draped her thin figure. Elaborate makeup and accessories framed her face, which was dressed with a benevolent smile. Allen bowed, knowing immediately who she was. She was the woman who held full authority in this club, and was also Allen's latest victim – Anita.
"Salutations Miss. I trust I find you well?" Allen started politely.
Anita laughed, the sound heard was like wind chimes. "My dear boy! When I found out that someone had applied to become a pianist here, I didn't think it would a high school student!"
Allen resisted the urge to frown. All through his life, someone had commented on his lack of height. He was even bullied in high school over this trivial affair. Allen would shake it off, but it still stung every time someone insinuated that he was short.
"Miss. Anita, I am a capable twenty-two year old. I finished college not long ago, and I wish to be employed here," Allen said clearly.
It was obvious that Anita had not expected such a crisp response. She immediately sobered, entering a business frame of mind.
"Well, Mr. Davidson – your application was by far the best. If it is okay with you, I would like you to start performing from tonight. The club opens in two hours," Anita explained.
"R-Really? I get the job?" Allen feigned surprise, "I will be more than happy to start tonight."
"Is there any stage name you would like to go by?" Anita asked.
"James would be fine."
After a few more kind exchanges of words, the pair shook hands and Allen departed for his locker room. Lou Fa guided him there, under his request.
"So, are you just a receptionist? Or do you work elsewhere?" Allen started, acting nonchalant.
"I have a really important job when the club opens!" Lou Fa said, warming up to the conversation instantly.
"Oh, and what is that?" Allen asked, now genuinely interested.
"I guard the safe so that no one steals Miss. Anita's gold hair clasps. They have diamonds in them as well, you know," she said.
What she didn't notice was that her companion had stopped dead in his tracks. The feeling of wanting to laugh hysterically was too powerful to resist. He struggled to keep his warm smile from dissolving into a full-fledged laughing fit. Quickly readjusting his 'James' mask, he kept walking.
So easy, he thought. I thought this was going to be a challenge.
Two hours passed quickly, and avid music fans filled in to listen to the new pianist. But Allen was nowhere near the stage. He walked swiftly through the corridors, trying to remember the way towards the safe. His lip curled as he thought of how he found it. He had asked Lou Fa ever so sweetly to show him where the safe was, and she complied without hesitation. At last, he took the final turn. Here we go, Allen thought as he exhaled.
Lou Fa's eyes grew wide with surprise as she recognised the person walking towards her. Allen cursed himself for not being more discreet, and knew he had to work quickly. Anita was due to introduce him in approximately three minutes, and he had to be out of there. So, he softly clamped a gloved hand over Lou Fa's mouth. He willed his eyes to become tender and a smile to play his lips.
"Wha…?" Lou Fa asked, her voice muffled.
"Shh," Allen whispered, "You'll ruin the moment. You know, I fell for you the moment I laid my eyes on you. Miss. Lou Fa, you have truly captured my heart. Please, let me whisk you away now."
He released the girl, waiting for a response. She was blushing furiously, her breath panting slightly.
"I-I feel the same, James," she stammered, "You remind me of someone I know…"
Allen inwardly groaned. This girl will never forget me, will she?
Lou Fa continued, "It's just that – we both have jobs! Neither of us will finish before midnight, so why don't we go then?"
Allen shook his head gently. He put an arm around her waist, braced himself, and pulled her in for a kiss. It was short, mostly because Allen wanted to gag. Nevertheless, he hung on long enough to pull her in. Lou stumbled away, her glasses steamed up. He came closer and whispered in her ear.
"Don't you see? I cannot wait. Go – run outside, and I will bring our belongings. After that, we can enjoy each other's company underneath the stars."
Lou Fa remained speechless, her knees wobbling. She nodded repeatedly and rushed from her position. Once she was gone, Allen dropped his mask. With one ear against the safe door, he quickly but quietly deciphered the code. And there they were – the precious hair clasps, each one could be easily sold for a thousand dollars. Allen unzipped a hidden pocket, revealing the exact same clasps. But no, they were not exact; Allen replaced the priceless ones for the counterfeit. Finally, he slipped his spoils of the night inside.
Their best security system was Lou Fa? Allen wondered. It's amazing that no one has tried this before.
And with that thought, he ducked out of the back door and walked towards his car, spinning his keys on his finger. Making sure that no one, particularly Lou Fa, would get in the way, he backed out of the parking and drove away. And the only proof that he was there, the proof that Anita would soon find, was a small card with a lone crimson rose stamped on.
February 19th, 17:56 – Black Order HQ
Lenalee was sitting in her cubicle, utterly tired. She had recently read the news report about a robbery from the club Anita's, but the FBI was keeping all the crucial information from her. Now, she had to wait to get approval from the Central's head, Malcolm Leverrier, before she can carry on. Today was her luck day.
"Lenalee! Lenalee!" Komui hollered from the end of the corridor.
He seemed to teleport into Lenalee cubicle, making her almost spill her tea. She stared at the file in his hand. It had the title 'CON ARTIST: DESIGNATED CASE' written on it, with a red stamp reading 'APPROVED' blaring from the plain cover. Lenalee broke into a huge grin and hugged her brother. He hugged her back, doing a small dance at the same time.
"You got the case, sis," he said. "It's all yours."
She pulled away, absolutely speechless with joy. Her time to shine had come, and there was no way she wouldn't try her hardest. The joy dimmed slightly as Komui's smile lost a few centimetres.
"Well, I say it's all yours," he said, "but the FBI is being resistant. They don't want to hand this solely over to us, so you will be aided by a leading officer. They have also contacted a CIA intelligence worker to assist you, so you have access to all the information."
Lenalee stayed silent, soaking all this information in. Large law enforcing agencies like the FBI and CIA never had a smooth relationship with Black Order Detectives. Niceties were maintained, but everyone knew that knives get sharpened underneath it all. Now that such a prospective case was about to be handed over to a detective to-be, the antagonism must gave grown.
She finally said, "If I'm gaining so much right now, I expect my own office for this case."
Komui chuckled and said, "Don't worry, you'll get an office. But first, you need to go and meet your new colleagues at the recent crime scene. Tapp will be driving you."
After a few minutes, Lenalee bade farewell to Komui. Tapp, one of Reever's right hand men, hummed along to the pop song on the radio. The drive wasn't long, and the pair arrived in the midst of police cars and motorbikes. The area was cordoned off with yellow police tape, and Lenalee found it almost thrilling to part the tape and make her way inside. She was greeted with hot glares from FBI officers, all of whom knew that she was the Supervisor's sister. Lenalee smiled nervously in returned, and decided to wait outside.
VROOM! HONK, HONK! People parted in surprise as a black Ferrari Maranello sped up to the parking lot. The windows were tinted, so the driver was hidden from view. Lenalee heard some people starting to whisper, whilst others scoffed loudly at the car.
"The occupant of the vehicle seemed to be unfavoured amongst the FBI," Lenalee murmured.
Tapp heard her and mutter back, "Oh, he's favoured alright. But loathed – he's like the dark horse of the police. Apparently he has the worst attitude ever!"
At that cue, the driver stepped out. He was tall, Lenalee noted, with flowing raven hair tied into a high ponytail. Straight cut bangs rested on his forehead, and he wore a threatening frown. After locking the car, he stuffed the keys inside his leather jacket and walked with loping strides towards the club.
Tapp stood front of him, earning himself a glare. He flinched, but spoke nonetheless, "Officer? I'd like you to meet the detective you will be working with."
He gestured to Lenalee, who smiled warmly. The man continued to frown, but softened his gaze slightly. She held out a hand, and after a few second hesitation, he briefly shook it.
"Hello, I'm Lenalee. Lenalee Lee."
Lenalee waited for the officer to introduce himself, but he stayed silent. She peered at him into those dark abyss eyes. They glowed with intensity, as if he'd seen it all and wanted more. It unnerved her. Finally, he said something.
"Kanda. Kanda Yuu."
Reviews would be nice. Join the review revolution! Every author knows how much it sucks to get like 500 visits and then 10 reviews. Did the other 490 dissolve after they read the story?
Rant mode finished. Has anyone seen 'Mean Girls'? If you have, then you should know that I'm performing the Kevin G rap tomorrow, to entice people to come to our charity stall! Some random info…