Disclaimer: All characters in the pages below, with the exception of Alex
Rhodes, belong to Monkey Punch and other folks. I don't own Harry Winston
either...if I did, do you think I'd be tooling around with short stories
online? As always, no money paid to me, and I still don't even have my own
computer.
*Author's note: To all the nice folks who read and reviewed, thanks so much for all the encouragement...Sorry chapter 2 took so long. This is my first story on fanfiction.net, and I am going to try like hell to keep the chapters coming with a quickness, but people keep coming up with other stuff for me to do. It looks like this story might be a long one, but don't worry, from now on our guys (and Fujiko) are going to have a plot to work with. The time period on this is the mid-seventies, in keeping with the original series; the diamond sale discussed in this chapter actually happened, in 1974. Prices have been somewhat inexactly adjusted for inflation and so forth, so if they seem low, that's why.
Also, on a slightly digressed note, it seems there are two other RadicalEdwards on this site, but I am not either of them. So, from RadicalEdward III, here's some more Lupin III.
Ch. 2: Diamonds and Guns
Two hours later, two beaming young newlyweds took their first-class seats on a flight to Los Angeles, California. The groom stowed their bags and flopped enthusiastically into the window seat. He gazed out the window as the plane took off, and then turned to his wife.
"Would you believe all this leg room, honey? This really is living!" He took her hand and kissed it, leaning close against her shoulder. The bride, a pert redhead who seemed a little embarrassed by her new husband's grandly affectionate gestures, flagged down a passing flight attendant.
"Excuse me, miss," she asked timidly, a blush rising to her cheeks, "but would it be possible...could we maybe have some champagne? I've never flown first-class before, and"--she whispered conspiratorially, showing off a gold wedding band-- "we have a lot to celebrate today." The flight attendant smiled, congratulated the couple, and promised to be right back with a bottle of champagne, compliments of the airline. The groom removed his smoky green aviator glasses, kissed his girl on the cheek and grinned broadly.
"Baby cakes, you're priceless. Give us another kiss!" The redhead smirked.
"Mm-hm. Speaking of priceless," she said, batting her eyelashes, "don't you have something you want to let us in on, *Lover*?" He chuckled mischievously and tucked his glasses into a shirt pocket.
"Ohhh yes, how thoughtless of me...I almost forgot." He leaned over his bride and across the aisle, where a bespectacled middle-aged professor and a ponytailed businessman in pinstripes seemed to be arguing philosophy.
"You must learn to transcend these small material troubles," the businessman was saying. "Buddha teaches that a wise man..."
"Transcend my ass," interjected the professor. "MY Buddha teaches that a wiseguy who doesn't pay his debts gets a boot in the butt."
"Your Buddha also has strange philosophies on the subject of beards."
"You leave the beard out of this. You owe me a hundred fifty big ones from last night's poker game, and that's all there is to it." The professor smugly pushed his spectacles up on his nose and stuck out his tongue at the businessman, who merely grunted and closed his eyes.
"Ahem," said the groom, tapping the professor on the shoulder.
"What? He lost the game, he picked on the beard, now he has to pay up," the professor said with a shrug. "Them's the rules."
"What? Listen, if you two are finished arm-wrestling your way to nirvana, you might want to tune in to what I'm saying over here. Can you call a five- minute truce?" The two looked at one another. The businessman scowled, the professor grinned, and then both turned to the groom.
"All right, Lupin, I'll bite," said the professor. "What's up that polyester-covered sleeve of yours?"
"The game is diamonds, my bookish buddy. Personally, I would have preferred Hearts," he added, pinching his seatmate gently on the arm, "but Fuji-cakes wouldn't hear of it." Three pairs of eyes rolled, and one slender elbow made its way into Lupin's ribcage. "Yee-OWCH," he yelped. "Some blushing bride."
"It would be wise for you to return to the point, perhaps," said the businessman.
"Fine, fine. Yeesh," Lupin muttered as he procured a booklet from his jacket pocket. Fujiko squealed when she saw the name printed on its cover.
"Oooh! Harry Winston!" She clasped the book in her carefully manicured hands and flipped through the pages of precious gems. "Oh, Lupin," she moaned, "these are positively delectable!"
"Harry Winston? As in the Rodeo Drive Harry Winston?" Jigen took the spectacles off his nose and snatched the booklet from Fujiko.
"That's right, the 'King of Diamonds' himself. The House of Winston has been giving the glitterati its glitter for decades. On Oscar night, they loan out millions of dollars' worth of gems to Hollywood's honorees..."
"Yeah, but the Oscars aren't for months, and we're already headed for L.A.," Jigen put in. "What gives? You figure it'll take that long just to case the joint?"
"You didn't let me finish. You're right, the Academy Awards aren't for months. But *our* Oscar night is next Tuesday, when the House of Winston conducts the largest diamond sale in history." He paused for dramatic effect. "The stone to be sold is priced at $24,500,000." Jigen whistled.
"All right, now that got my undivided attention."
"I thought it might. The Star of the East weighs in at almost 95 carats. It was 'born' in the 1600s, and once belonged to the royal families of the Ottoman Empire. It disappeared during the Rebellion of 1909, and somehow popped up for sale in Paris, alongside--you'll never guess it--the Hope diamond. Now the Hope's sitting collecting dust in the Smithsonian, but the Star's arriving at the Beverly Hills salon tomorrow afternoon. And leaving the Beverly Hills salon, with us, tomorrow night. I thought about snagging the Oscar deliveries," Lupin assented, "and who knows? Maybe we'll pay Mr. Winston a little return visit, to 'thank the Academy...'"
The flight attendant returned to the cabin, bearing glasses and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. The passengers fell back into character. "...But first things first," Lupin caroled as he poured champagne for his compatriots. "To true love...and all its facets!"
*** Inspector Zenigata was having trouble keeping himself composed. Naturally a rather twitchy man, he didn't deal well with cramped quarters or irritating noises, and this Los Angeles-bound DC-9 was full of both. Moreover, the enormous women sitting on either side of him were sound asleep against his shoulders, ensuring that his trench coat would never again take its proper shape. He grumbled and rapped his fingers impatiently against the armrest.
"Nnngh," he groaned. "...too tall for these stupid seats...What the heck is taking so long?"
The flight attendant asked the cabin to prepare for landing. The inspector sighed. Lupin and his gang would be landing right about now. He'd probably see them, disguised as nuns or cops or tourists, hanging around the airport bars while he was retrieving his bags. But he wasn't going to try to nab them; not just yet. He rubbed his hands together with a greedy, exultant chuckle. No, he was going to be patient if it killed him. Zenigata had a new ace up his sleeve, one that was waiting for him in L.A., and this time he damn well wasn't going to show his hand too soon.
The plane touched down with a bump, rattling the passengers around and pinning the inspector even more firmly between the beefy shoulders of his seatmates.
"Damn you, Lupin," he mumbled. "Once I get you behind bars, mark my words, I swear I'm never getting on an airplane again."
*Author's note: To all the nice folks who read and reviewed, thanks so much for all the encouragement...Sorry chapter 2 took so long. This is my first story on fanfiction.net, and I am going to try like hell to keep the chapters coming with a quickness, but people keep coming up with other stuff for me to do. It looks like this story might be a long one, but don't worry, from now on our guys (and Fujiko) are going to have a plot to work with. The time period on this is the mid-seventies, in keeping with the original series; the diamond sale discussed in this chapter actually happened, in 1974. Prices have been somewhat inexactly adjusted for inflation and so forth, so if they seem low, that's why.
Also, on a slightly digressed note, it seems there are two other RadicalEdwards on this site, but I am not either of them. So, from RadicalEdward III, here's some more Lupin III.
Ch. 2: Diamonds and Guns
Two hours later, two beaming young newlyweds took their first-class seats on a flight to Los Angeles, California. The groom stowed their bags and flopped enthusiastically into the window seat. He gazed out the window as the plane took off, and then turned to his wife.
"Would you believe all this leg room, honey? This really is living!" He took her hand and kissed it, leaning close against her shoulder. The bride, a pert redhead who seemed a little embarrassed by her new husband's grandly affectionate gestures, flagged down a passing flight attendant.
"Excuse me, miss," she asked timidly, a blush rising to her cheeks, "but would it be possible...could we maybe have some champagne? I've never flown first-class before, and"--she whispered conspiratorially, showing off a gold wedding band-- "we have a lot to celebrate today." The flight attendant smiled, congratulated the couple, and promised to be right back with a bottle of champagne, compliments of the airline. The groom removed his smoky green aviator glasses, kissed his girl on the cheek and grinned broadly.
"Baby cakes, you're priceless. Give us another kiss!" The redhead smirked.
"Mm-hm. Speaking of priceless," she said, batting her eyelashes, "don't you have something you want to let us in on, *Lover*?" He chuckled mischievously and tucked his glasses into a shirt pocket.
"Ohhh yes, how thoughtless of me...I almost forgot." He leaned over his bride and across the aisle, where a bespectacled middle-aged professor and a ponytailed businessman in pinstripes seemed to be arguing philosophy.
"You must learn to transcend these small material troubles," the businessman was saying. "Buddha teaches that a wise man..."
"Transcend my ass," interjected the professor. "MY Buddha teaches that a wiseguy who doesn't pay his debts gets a boot in the butt."
"Your Buddha also has strange philosophies on the subject of beards."
"You leave the beard out of this. You owe me a hundred fifty big ones from last night's poker game, and that's all there is to it." The professor smugly pushed his spectacles up on his nose and stuck out his tongue at the businessman, who merely grunted and closed his eyes.
"Ahem," said the groom, tapping the professor on the shoulder.
"What? He lost the game, he picked on the beard, now he has to pay up," the professor said with a shrug. "Them's the rules."
"What? Listen, if you two are finished arm-wrestling your way to nirvana, you might want to tune in to what I'm saying over here. Can you call a five- minute truce?" The two looked at one another. The businessman scowled, the professor grinned, and then both turned to the groom.
"All right, Lupin, I'll bite," said the professor. "What's up that polyester-covered sleeve of yours?"
"The game is diamonds, my bookish buddy. Personally, I would have preferred Hearts," he added, pinching his seatmate gently on the arm, "but Fuji-cakes wouldn't hear of it." Three pairs of eyes rolled, and one slender elbow made its way into Lupin's ribcage. "Yee-OWCH," he yelped. "Some blushing bride."
"It would be wise for you to return to the point, perhaps," said the businessman.
"Fine, fine. Yeesh," Lupin muttered as he procured a booklet from his jacket pocket. Fujiko squealed when she saw the name printed on its cover.
"Oooh! Harry Winston!" She clasped the book in her carefully manicured hands and flipped through the pages of precious gems. "Oh, Lupin," she moaned, "these are positively delectable!"
"Harry Winston? As in the Rodeo Drive Harry Winston?" Jigen took the spectacles off his nose and snatched the booklet from Fujiko.
"That's right, the 'King of Diamonds' himself. The House of Winston has been giving the glitterati its glitter for decades. On Oscar night, they loan out millions of dollars' worth of gems to Hollywood's honorees..."
"Yeah, but the Oscars aren't for months, and we're already headed for L.A.," Jigen put in. "What gives? You figure it'll take that long just to case the joint?"
"You didn't let me finish. You're right, the Academy Awards aren't for months. But *our* Oscar night is next Tuesday, when the House of Winston conducts the largest diamond sale in history." He paused for dramatic effect. "The stone to be sold is priced at $24,500,000." Jigen whistled.
"All right, now that got my undivided attention."
"I thought it might. The Star of the East weighs in at almost 95 carats. It was 'born' in the 1600s, and once belonged to the royal families of the Ottoman Empire. It disappeared during the Rebellion of 1909, and somehow popped up for sale in Paris, alongside--you'll never guess it--the Hope diamond. Now the Hope's sitting collecting dust in the Smithsonian, but the Star's arriving at the Beverly Hills salon tomorrow afternoon. And leaving the Beverly Hills salon, with us, tomorrow night. I thought about snagging the Oscar deliveries," Lupin assented, "and who knows? Maybe we'll pay Mr. Winston a little return visit, to 'thank the Academy...'"
The flight attendant returned to the cabin, bearing glasses and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. The passengers fell back into character. "...But first things first," Lupin caroled as he poured champagne for his compatriots. "To true love...and all its facets!"
*** Inspector Zenigata was having trouble keeping himself composed. Naturally a rather twitchy man, he didn't deal well with cramped quarters or irritating noises, and this Los Angeles-bound DC-9 was full of both. Moreover, the enormous women sitting on either side of him were sound asleep against his shoulders, ensuring that his trench coat would never again take its proper shape. He grumbled and rapped his fingers impatiently against the armrest.
"Nnngh," he groaned. "...too tall for these stupid seats...What the heck is taking so long?"
The flight attendant asked the cabin to prepare for landing. The inspector sighed. Lupin and his gang would be landing right about now. He'd probably see them, disguised as nuns or cops or tourists, hanging around the airport bars while he was retrieving his bags. But he wasn't going to try to nab them; not just yet. He rubbed his hands together with a greedy, exultant chuckle. No, he was going to be patient if it killed him. Zenigata had a new ace up his sleeve, one that was waiting for him in L.A., and this time he damn well wasn't going to show his hand too soon.
The plane touched down with a bump, rattling the passengers around and pinning the inspector even more firmly between the beefy shoulders of his seatmates.
"Damn you, Lupin," he mumbled. "Once I get you behind bars, mark my words, I swear I'm never getting on an airplane again."
