Thief in the Night
A Lupin the Third fan fiction by Lywinis
Chapter Eight: A Time of Reckoning
"I don't know what you take me for," Cara began, irritably flicking her bangs out of her face. "I'm not some amateur you can push around and use to train your thugs."
Fujiko smirked. "Yet, you're still here, sitting before me."
Cara's smile was bitter, but held an edge of triumph. "That might be so, but you're a thug short."
Fujiko bristled. "Is that so, Carlo?" she asked, her voice the temperature of a lake in winter.
He hung his head. "Zenigata got Marco, boss. I'm sorry."
"He was arrested?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Fujiko glared at him. "Zenigata was there, and you still took her?"
"Yes…did we do something wrong?"
"YOU IDIOT!" she fumed. "Zenigata will end up tracking her here, especially since he's probably using her as bait to get to Lupin." Fujiko couldn't think of anything else, especially since she herself had betrayed Lupin on several occasions in such a way. It would never occur to her that Cara and Zenigata had become allies, even friends.
Cara smiled again. She enjoyed seeing Fujiko ruffled. "So, Fujicakes, what are you going to do now? You gonna let me go?" Fujiko glowered at the use of Lupin's nickname for her.
"Hardly." The beautiful woman's mouth was a thin line. "I'm going to kill you."
The ex-thief rolled her eyes. "Why do you care? Lupin and I are done, and you got your share, along with mine, I might add."
Fujiko looked surprised that Cara knew of the theft of her payment for the Sutton Hoo job. "Actually, it's the principle of the thing. You're an ex, and you're not welcome back into Lupin's protection. He told me so himself."
"Was this before or after he tried to have his way with me in my lawyer's office?"
Fujiko gave another start. When had Lupin gone to see her? "Humph. It was after, probably."
"So he came to the trial just to see me go to jail, then?"
Damn it. Cara had the high ground, and Fujiko was struggling for answers. She didn't like being off balance like this; it reminded her too much of being with Lupin when he wasn't after her body.
She snapped her fingers. "Throw her in the holding cell."
Carlo moved forward, grabbing for Cara's shoulder, and that's when she made her move. The thug had slipped on a shoulder holster before they had come in, and it contained a 9mm Beretta. She snagged it as he reached out to crush her shoulder again and whipped underneath his arm, coming up in a roll with the gun aimed at Fujiko.
"Such a waste, Fujiko," Cara commented, noting the other two had frozen the second she had grabbed the gun. "You and I never needed to talk to each other again, yet you had to take my cut, try to frame me, and then kill me. For someone who's double-crossed Lupin so many times, I'd figure you to be smarter. Jealousy never played a part in it, did it? You just wanted me dead so you could go on stealing from him. I have no problem with it. Steal from Lupin. Screw him over as many times as you want. Eventually he'll get tired of you, same as he did with me. You'll either come to the point where he'll tell you to put out or get out, or he'll find someone infinitely more fascinating to lead him on by his crotch."
Fujiko's temper flared along with the color that dusted her cheeks in hard little spots. "You bitch. You never satisfied him, and so he came to me. You'd figure he'd be all right with you; you look like a decent piece of tail, given a little make-up and a new wardrobe."
Cara kept the Beretta leveled at Fujiko's beautiful face. "I really could care less your reasons for wanting me dead. I'm going to walk out of here, and then you're going to pull in all the assassins or whatever you have, and leave me alone. I'm not working with Lupin again, so you can be satisfied with him…until he decides to drop you for someone younger, and more beautiful."
Fujiko's eyes narrowed, and she went for the subcompact pistol she kept in her garter. She was fast, even though Cara already had the pistol drawn.
The guns both went off at once.
Lupin was in Rome, relaxing by the Piazza de Spagna, a glass of Colli Lanuvini in his hand. He sniffed it, tasted, then sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. Jigen looked over, a bottle of scotch in his hand. He was as fond of Italian wines as anyone else, but sometimes he missed his old staples. Lupin's gluttony for fine wine and finer women never ceased to amaze the gunman.
He was worried again. Cara hadn't sent her usual letter to the P.O. box he checked on his rounds through businesses Lupin ran. He figured she was angry at Lupin, but even when she had been bitter the last time, she had written to him. He was about to pack up and head over to England for a while, just to see if she were all right.
He knew Lupin would be pissed, considering they were on the eve of another job. A French diplomat by the name of Cloutier had arrived only yesterday, and Lupin had noticed the ceremonial robe the man wore contained dozens of secret pockets. He was sure that Cloutier had the documents that France was trying to push on the rest of the world, the ones for the oil contracts in its only remaining territory, a small island just outside the American sphere of influence in the Pacific. Experts had pronounced the island capable of producing enough oil to last for generations, without a lot of drilling. The contracts for the drilling would be sold to whoever placed the highest bid, of course, with a suitable cut for the French.
Lupin intended to get those documents himself and sell them back to the highest bidder on the black market. Jigen knew right now was not the best time to ask for some travel time.
Jigen stared miserably out over the piazza. He wished he knew how Cara was doing. He supposed he could just ask her, since she was standing there by the fountain, but he really wanted to…wait, what? He narrowed his eyes under his hat, straining to look for the woman he had seen The warm Italian sunlight made the courtyard shimmer, but he saw her just the same. There was no mistaking the woman who stood admiring the fountain.
He stood up, and Lupin glanced lazily at him in the Mediterranean heat. "What is it, Jigen?"
"I don't believe it, it's frigging Cara."
"What?" Lupin sat up and looked out over the courtyard. "Where?"
"Over there, by the…fountain…" But the apparition was gone.
"I don't see her," Lupin said, sniggering into his wineglass. "Usually all you see are the mandatory pink elephants when you drink. Let it go, buddy, if she hasn't written to you by now, she's probably trying to forget you." And me, he thought sourly, his mood darkening like a storm breaking over Tuscany.
Jigen scowled, putting the nearly full bottle of scotch back onto the table and grabbing the jacket he had slung over the back of the chair. Lupin started to stop the gunman, but he knew his surly and sarcastic friend needed his time alone.
He nursed his wine, sighing at the tourists who wandered along the edge of the courtyard, still foolish enough to be moving even in the heat of midday. His mind told him it was only sixty degrees, but the sunshine and the sluggish nature of the city itself made his body claim it was hotter than it was. It was nearly February, and it was usually the perfect time to visit Rome, which was why he was here.
Lupin hated the cold, almost as much as he hated squid. He was in Italy during the winter, and everywhere in-between the rest of the year. His vacations, usually mixed with business like this one was, contained hefty amounts of drinking, dining, and taunting Pops, who kept coming even in the off season. He wondered when Cara would make her appearance. If she were here, that was.
He didn't doubt the sharp eyes of his friend. Jigen wasn't a sharpshooter with a 0.3 second draw because he was lucky. He also knew where Cara was when the trial let out. She had been in a motel with Zenigata, and he had feared for her sanity. When the snow had melted, his informants had noted them getting on a plane together, and he wondered how long it had taken Pops to convince her to help catch him.
He gave Cara about a week of putting up with Pops.
Putting down his empty wineglass, he stood and stretched, not the least bit affected by the alcohol. Well, maybe a little of it got to me, he amended as he wobbled into the hotel room. Goemon sat against the wall, sipping at his sake. Lupin wove his way over and sat against the wall next to the samurai. Goemon cocked an eyebrow, but he said nothing.
"Where's Jigen?" Lupin asked, slurring his words slightly. Goemon took a sip and fixed his eyes on the far wall. Lupin poked him in the shoulder. The samurai got a long-suffering look on his face and cast his eyes to heaven.
"Jigen said he was stepping out for a bit. I imagine you said something to him to anger him, did you not?" The samurai held Lupin in a cold-eyed gaze. Lupin shrugged.
"I told him seeing Cara out in the piazza was kind of impossible, considering she flew off with Pops a couple of days ago from Chicago. He's probably dropped her off in England and is on his way here to try and arrest me for the millionth time." The master thief rested his chin in his palm.
"What one sees is not always the projection of reality," Goemon said wisely. "Perhaps it was yearning that made Cara stand in front of the fountain for Jigen."
"That's what I said, but he got pissy at me."
"A wise person does not tell someone who is in love to forget the object of their affections." Goemon took another sip at his sake. "It is not in Jigen's nature to care about someone like Cara, and so he does not know how to deal with his…samudaya." Goemon seemed to struggle for that last word, and Lupin recognized it. It meant, in the Buddhist religion, that there was a cause for suffering, such as anger or jealousy, or the need to control the world around you and make it fit your preconceptions.
Then another thought tangled itself up in Lupin's hazy brain. "Wait…Jigen is in love with Cara?"
"You can't be so wrapped up in your own affairs that you didn't notice it." Goemon looked a little disgusted with Lupin, but then again, he always did.
Lupin's jaw nearly dropped. Of course. That was why Jigen had insisted he be the one to drive the sedan in the Sutton Hoo job. That was why he kept in touch with Cara, even when the woman was pissed off at other members of the group. Hell, who was he kidding, the only one Cara had ever been pissed off at was him.
He looked at Goemon, realization dawning. "So you're saying Jigen's gone to find Cara?"
It was impressive how the calm and composed samurai managed to avoid rolling his eyes. "Yes, Lupin."
"But she's working for Zenigata!"
"I highly doubt that. She might have become friends with Zenigata, but there's no way she would help him."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because, unlike Fujiko, she has a sense of honor, and wouldn't do that to us."
"Speaking of Fujiko, where is she?"
"I would assume she's out conning some rich man out of his money and using it to shop."
Lupin folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. "I hope they both decide to come back before tonight. Those contracts aren't going to steal themselves."
Jigen stalked through the city of Rome, his jacket slung over his shoulder on his fingers. I know I saw her. I KNOW I did. She was there, by the fountain. His feet made a hollow ringing on the deserted cobblestones of the back alley, and then he saw her. She slipped into a motel off the beaten track. It looked like a bed-and-breakfast, and as he approached, he realized that was exactly what it was. Mama Canoli's. He snorted. Tourist trap. He should have known.
Wait, why would Cara go to one of these seedy little motels, when her credit cards would more than cover a respectable hotel? He lifted his fedora and scratched his head. This was odd. The ban on her credit cards had been lifted weeks ago. Lupin had seen to it personally. So why was she in a place that only took cash, and American currency at that?
He was determined to find out.
He stepped into the entrance. The place was as expected, all dirt and grime and catering to their American customers looking for an authentic Italian trip. His lip curled. What was Cara doing here, when she could obviously afford something better?
A busty Italian matron was cleaning the sitting room, humming a song. Her eyes were hard, though, and you could tell she was humming only to keep up the pretense. Jigen sauntered up and eyed her.
"You looking for a room, sir?" The heavy accent nearly knocked Jigen over. The woman was out to make a quick buck, and all the locals knew it.
"No, thanks. I was looking for a lady friend of mine. About five-eight, short brown hair, streaked blonde, blue eyes. You know her?"
"I know her, she's one of my boarders. You police?" she asked, eyeing his scruffy appearance and the shoulder holster displayed prominently. Jigen hadn't bothered to put his coat back on; it was too damn hot.
"Nah, I'm not police, but I would like to talk to her. Which room is she staying in?"
"That, you will have to pay for." She held out a fleshy hand, the black currant eyes in her doughy face lighting with greed. He sighed and dropped a hundred dollars American into her palm. Nodding, she counted the twenties quickly and stuffed them in her apron. "Room 23. First door on your right when you go upstairs to the second floor."
He strode out of the parlor and up the stairs, his long legs taking the steps two at a time. He had to find out what she was doing here. She hated being away from London too long; she said it interfered with business.
Ducking his head to get his lean frame through the door, he looked around the shabby hallway. Cara would never bunk down here, he thought. It's not safe, first of all. I mean, look how easily I got in and found out where her room was.
The floor creaked slightly under his passage. The dirty, scuffed walls were anything but something Cara would approve of. He liked this less and less. But, there was the sound of a woman inside the room he was looking for, number twenty-three.
He knocked quietly. "Who is it?" a voice sang out. Had it not sounded so much like Cara, Jigen wouldn't have pushed open the door. He stood, staring, as Cara held up a towel over her chest and screamed.
"Cara, chill out, it's me, Jigen!" He held his hands palm up to show he wasn't armed…at least at the moment. She still screamed and looked extremely frightened, like she didn't know who he was. He shut the door behind him to muffle the screaming a little, and snapped, "Shut up."
She quieted almost immediately. Well, almost. "I'll have you know, I'm about to go out with an Interpol detective, so you'd better just get out of my room, whoever you are!"
He nearly ran over to her and grabbed her wrists. "What did you say?"
The girl was trembling. "I'm about to go out on a date with Inspector Zenigata of Interpol, so back off!" She tried to free her wrists and slap him, but her struggles did nothing but loosen her contact. It fell to the floor noiselessly, revealing a green eye under the icy blue ones.
Jigen nearly recoiled. "You're not Cara."
"Yes, I am. I don't know who you are, though, and if you don't get away from me now, I'll scream again."
"If you were Cara de Brouligiere, you would know Daisuke Jigen." He shook her until he swore he could hear her teeth rattle in her skull. "Who are you, and why are you pretending to be her?"
She screeched at him, her hands trying to claw at him, but he held her back and shook her again. "M-my name is Nandra…and I'm going to be Zeni's girlfriend if it kills her!" She struggled to be let go, and he pushed her down, horrified. She hit the floor and scrabbled for the door, but he stood in front of it and blocked her exit.
"Where is she?" he growled, the Magnum finally coming from its shoulder holster. She stared in terror at the barrel of the gun, beads of sweat prickling on her upper lip. "You know what will happen if I pull this trigger, right? Your blood and brains will splatter all over the far wall of this crappy hotel room. So tell me where Cara is!"
She broke, her resolve not as strong as one would think. "I don't know! I saw some guys drag her off the plane when we landed in Rome, but…but I don't know where they took her!"
"That's friggen' bull, and I know it! Where is she?" He adjusted the sights on the Magnum, bringing them to bear right between her eyes. She started crying, and he knew she was telling all she knew, whether the tears were fake or not.
He knew of one way to get the truth, as far as Cara was concerned. "Get up," he snapped. She stood hastily and he grabbed one of her arms, tucking his gun back into its holster. "We're going to get some questions answered."
"Where?"
"Where else? I'm sure the good Inspector would like to see his blind date."
Ah, yes, the inevitable cliffhanger. Sorry! I know it might be a little late, but I'm already working on the next chapter, so sit tight. :)
Till then,
Lywinis
