Chapter 3
Bentley sat thinking, nestled in an easy chair in the living room, pondering just how he and Murray might be able to get Carmelita from her own house to their hideout…all the while without her waking up, or Sly finding out. "There's just got to be a way…but, how?" Bentley grumbled to himself as he wracked his brain for answers.
Murray interrupted his thinking, as he came inside and took the seat across from him. "Sly´s in the shower now…so, we have about a half an hour free to talk things over," he informed him. Now, Murray knew that he wasn't as smart as either Sly or Bentley, but he did know that in order to pull of what he and Bentley were planning, they'd need to do a whole lot of polishing to their current plan.
Bentley must have been thinking along those very same lines himself. "Well, pal, I have sketched out the basis of a plan, but I can tell you this much: Carmelita's going to be wanting our heads when she discovers just who it was that brought her here," Bentley told him, very much worried.
"Yeah, you're right, Bent," Murray said, that thought worrying him as well.
Bentley nodded, then continued. "There are some problems we going to need to work though to get this to work," he said.
"Such as?" Murray asked.
"Well, for one, when we 'pick her up' for the ride back here, it´s going to be already nighttime, and Carmelita's most likely going to be asleep in her bed… ergo, she's um, not going to be wearing much else other than a nightgown. Or at least, I hope so," Bentley confided, then blushed bright red, thinking of the beautiful Carmelita in her nightgown, then in something less. The poor turtle held his hands over his cheeks until he composed himself. "Ahem! So, we need to be prepared, and have something more appropriate that she can wear," he planned aloud. "I mean, after all, as much as I think Sly might like to see her in only her nightgown, that's really not going to work. I mean, we can't do that to her…it's just not right, Murray."
"Yeah, I know. She's still a lady, even if she is a cop," Murray agreed. The big hippo said nothing, pondering just what they might do. That is, until his gaze strayed on to the magazine on the coffee table in front of him. He saw it, and had an idea. "Hey, Bent," he said.
"Yeah?" Bentley replied, his brow still furrowed as he furiously tried to plan.
Murray showed him the cover of the magazine. "Does this give you any ideas, buddy?"
Bentley´s eyes grew large. "Yeah, of just how Inspector Fox is going to enjoy killing us both, when this is over, pal," he declared. He then shook his head, and grinned. "But, Murray, what the heck! At least we'll know that Sly'll of had the time of his life."
The magazine the two looked upon was one that was a must for all those on the wrong side of the law. Almost like an underworld version of Vogue and Newsweek combined. On this month's front page had a picture of a very lovely snow leopard lady, a real name in the fashion business. She was a real fashion designer, mind you, one of the best in the industry in the legit side of the aisle. However, this magazine's clientele weren't to be found there, mind you. And, as such, this fashion mogul lady also was a much sought after designer of something far different…for what the police community liked to called 'villain outfits'. And, there was no doubt about it…even in the criminal fashion arena, she was the best in the business.
The two accomplices looked to the magazine, then to each other. Then they both thought of the lovely Carmelita having the benefit of this fashion mogul's wares. "Heh, heh," Murray chuckled. "Hey, Bent…couldn't you just see the Inspector in this get-up..complete with the black mask and everything?"
Bentley did---and could! "Woo! She would be one hot looking criminal in that costume, buddy…no doubt!" Bentley agreed, his spectacles temporarily fogging over as his imagination ran wild a moment. "Whoa," he gasped softly, removing his fogged eyewear and gently cleaning them on the corner of his shirt.
Before they could continue their plans, the two heard the door to the bathroom swing open with a creak. They tossed the magazine behind the sofa, and adopted innocent gazes as Sly came out, the hair on his head going in whatever direction it wanted. Sly grinned an easy-going smile to his buddies. "So…guys, any plans for my big blast that's due in oh, about four weeks time?" he suggested, his grin widening at his blatant urging.
"As a matter of fact, Sly…yes, we do," Bentley replied, trying to make his voice mysterious sounding. "But, buddy, believe you me, you would absolutely hate to have the surprise we've got planned ruined. Trust me…"
Sly was intrigued. "You don't say? That good, huh?" Sly asked.
"Oh yeah!" Bentley told him, nodding his head, and giving him a rascally, sly smile. "Look at this way, Sly…on a scale from one to ten…I'd give it a twenty!" Bentley promised. "And…in order to pull it off, pal…Murray and I have one hell of a lot of work yet to be done. So, please…Sly, please don´t go ruining it for yourself, okay? It'll be great, buddy…we promise!"
Sly looked over at both Bentley and Murray, who were silently asking him to not nose about trying to discover their plan, essentially ruining everything they had planned so far. Sly suppressed the itch to snoop for his friends' sakes. "All right," Sly said. "I promise. No snooping, no spying," he pledged, much to his best friends' relief. "So guys…do you two need me to be gone or anything? You know, so you can plot and plan in safety that is?" He grinned, liking his upcoming birthday more and more each minute.
"Actually no, Sly" Bently assured him. "It's us who's got to be going. Murray and I need to take care of something downtown first. So, you just relax, and keep imagining your present from the two of us while we're gone, okay?"
"Hot damn," Sly said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Go on then, you two. Get! If either of you need anything, just tell me, okay?"
"You got it, Sly," Bentley said, turning to Murray. "C'mon, chum…we got a job to do."
After a fifteen minute drive downtown, Bentley and Murray found themselves in front of a shop named C'est Sing, the very prestigious showroom of the famous Madame Yuri Sing, owner and founder of one of the most expensive, most exclusive clothiers in all of Paris. After watching a bevy of lovely young ladies move in and out of the glitzy looking shop, Bentley and Murray worked up the courage to head inside. The two felt awkwardly out of place, but persevered for their friend's sake. They walked deeper into the place, past many a giggling and tittering young sales associate. Eventually, their notoriety drew the notice of Madame Sing herself. She swept into the room and toward them like a vision, graceful and elegant. "Oui, monsiuers? May I be of some assistance?" Yuri asked, her exotic green gold eyes looking the unlikely pair over.
"Oui, Madame," Bentley replied, only having to clear his throat twice before he could manage to speak. "We are in need of someone with your most unique talents, Madame Sing," he announced. He removed the magazine from the leather valise he held, and laid it down on the heavy clear glass table top of Madame Sing's desk. He then flipped it open to the article he had marked with a red bookmark. "Something along these lines, I think," Bentley ventured mysteriously.
Yuri Sing nodded her elegant, perfectly coiffed head. "Ah, some of my best work," she remarked, then guardedly looked about her establishment…just to see if any gendarmes or undercover detectives might be in attendance. Thankfully, she knew everyone in the room…with the obvious exclusion of Murray and Bentley. "I may be able to help you, monsieurs…if you would be so kind as to follow me," she said, indicating the two to follow her.
It wasn't long before Bentley and Murray found themselves seated in the salon of Madame Sing's posh office. Again, with nary a whisper, Madame Sing appeared to almost float into the room, fluidly moving to take a seat opposite the two distinctly uncomfortable gentlemen. "May I offer either of you a cappucino or expresso?" she politely offered.
"Nah," Murray replied, blushing. "I'll just have some coffee, thanks, Madame Sing."
Bentley coughed softly into his hand to cover his choked laughter.
But Madame Sing only smiled, and said, "But of course." She smoothly poured the big hippo a ridiculously small bone china demitasse cup of her most expensive expresso. "Nothing for you, monsieur?"
Bentley shook his head. "No, thank you, Madame Sing."
"Hmm, as you will," she said with a shrug, and poured herself a cup of expresso herself. "Now…how may I help you two fine gentlemen?" She took a sip of her hot piping coffee, her large exotic eyes watching the two over the rim of her delicate china cup.
Bentley shivered, feeling as if he were Madame Sing's prey for some reason, but soldiered on…for Sly's sake. "Yes, well…we were trying to come up for the perfect gift for our friend Sly, and…"
"Sly Cooper?" Madame Sing questioned, one smooth perfect eyebrow raising in interest. "You are well acquainted with Monsieur Cooper, nes pas?"
Bentley swelled his scrawny chest with pride. "Yes, Ma'am. We're his best friends, and er, contemporaries," Bentley told her.
"Ah, why did you not say so?" Madame Sing replied, giving them the benefit of a dazzling small smile that set the two lads' hearts to beating a bit faster. "If I may provide some small service for Monsieur Cooper…it would be my most sincere pleasure. Now…what is that you two had in mind, hmm?"
Bentley then attempted to explain their plan as well as he could manage…which was no mean feat in the presence of the most attractive Yuri Sing.
"Well well," Yuri replied after Bentley had finished. "Most intriguing, my good sirs." She paused to take another elegant sip of her coffee. "It is a most interesting tale you have woven for me. I must admit that I am not a little amused and touched by what you propose," Yuri nearly purred, her expression one of wry amusement.
"So…then you'll help?" Bentely ventured hopefully, pushing his spectacles up his nose.
"Perhaps," Madame Sing said, stalling for the enjoyment of it. "Perhaps. Now, tell me more, monsieur. Who is this femme fatale that has so bewitched the infamous Sly Cooper?"
"Well," Bentley said, gulping at her question. "Well, you see…that's the hard part, Madame Sing. We want to give her to Sly as his birthday present."
Madame Sing's brows furrowed. "So…she is a lady of the night, yes?"
Bentley was surprised when that touched off a sudden rush of anger. "She most definitely is not! Carmelita is a sweet girl! Well, okay, maybe not sweet per se, but she's definitely a lady!" Bentley growled in Carmelita's defense.
Much to Bentley's surprise, that caused Madame Sing to smile. "Ah, that is good! Very good indeed. Please, continue…who is this Carmelita, who elicits the defense of so daunting a champion?" Yuri's green-gold eyes danced with soft laughter.
Bentley blushed. "Well…she's…she's the gal for Sly, that's who. And, we want to get those two together. That's why we're going to all this trouble in the first place, Madame…"
"Ah, I see. A name would be most helpful, Monsieur," Madame Sing coaxed.
Bentley blushed again. "Um, yeah. Sorry about that. Um, uh…she's Carmelita Montoya Fox. She's uh, how do I put this really? She's---" Bentley began.
"The most dangerous Inspector in all of Interpol," Madame Sing finished for him. "Mon Dieu!" she then added, a slender hand coming up to rest at the base of her throat a moment. She then paused to think, taking yet another dainty sip of her expresso. She then flashed them an intriguing smile. "Still…I do like a challenge. Do go on…" She urged him to continue with a small wave of one slender, immaculately nailed hand.
"Well, those two have been at each other for years," Bentley said after giving her a grateful sigh. "A veritable Romeo and Juliet, if you ask me. C'mon, a cop and a Master Thief…what are the chances of those two ever getting together?"
Madame Sing gave Bentley a most mysterious and knowing smile. "Better than one might think, Monsieur Bentley," she told him. "It is said, after all, that opposites attract, no?"
"Well, yeah, I suppose," Bentley said, fidgeting. "Ahem! Anyway…Sly's always going on how thieving would be no fun if Carmelita wasn't chasing after him. So…me and Murray here, well…we decided that getting the two of them together in one place would be the best gift we could get him."
"I see," Madame Sing replied, thinking. "A most novel idea, monsieurs. And, you were hoping, perhaps, that if the mademoiselle was wearing something unauthoritative and very feminine, why then perhaps your gift might be even more special, yes?"
"Yeah, that'd be great," Bentley remarked, liking how she was thinking.
"I take it that this mademoiselle is quite the…um, formidable woman, yes?" Madame Sing ventured a moment later.
"Oh, yeah," agreed Bentley, nodding emphatically. "You'd be right there. Formidable describes her pretty well. Oh…and very pretty as well." Bentley then blushed again, grinning sheepishly.
"So I have heard," Madame Sing replied with a clever little smile that made Murray chuckle at Bentley, who scowled at his friend, blushing once again. "Tut, tut, monsieur…there is nothing wrong in finding the good Inspector attractive. I am certain that your friend Sly does, yes?"
"Oh, yes, Madame Sing," Murray confirmed, still grinning.
"Please, gentlemen, do call me Yuri," purred Madame Sing, giving the two the benefit of her most winsome smile. "I think I shall gladly help you with your scheme, monsieurs. However…there are some obstacles to our success, you understand."
"Obstacles, eh? Such as?" Bentley asked, elated to get her help, but worrying nonetheless about her concerns.
"I'm sure that some of them are quite obvious, no?" Yuri deduced, finishing the last of her expresso. "First, of course, it would be most helpful if I could have several good photographs of the mademoiselle. It is hard---is it not?---to create the perfect outfit for someone you have never seen?"
Bentley nodded, knowing that Sly had enough digital photos of Carmelita that that request would be no problem whatsoever. "I can get you those, no problem, Madame Si---er, Yuri," Bentley assured her.
She clapped her hands together happily. "Tres manufique! Now, the second thing I need may prove a bit more daunting. One can do only so much with photos, no? I need to know this girl's measurements so that the clothing I craft shall fit her properly."
"So…what you're saying is that if we could procure some of Carmelita's clothing, that would work then?" Bentley suggested, paling at the thought of trying to get Carmelita's actual measurements.
"Oui!" Yuri said with a grin. "What a intelligent young man you are, monsieur!"
"Yeah. Thanks," Bentley said wanly. But, inside his head he was thinking: Just how in the name of God were he and Murray going to be able to steal some of Carmelita's clothing without her noticing its loss?