Chapter 32

Keiko sighed, but only after she had sat down. "You've asked me what I have done this time?" Kyoko asked perversely…just a bit shame-faced. "Well, Nyoko…you know me, I never do anything half-way, neh?" Keiko then laughed woodenly, softly. "Well, my friend, I have managed to get myself into trouble, greater trouble that even someone of your remarkable talents may find hard to fix."

Nyoko grimaced at hearing that, fearing her friend was probably right. "Oh, Keiko…is it really that bad?" Nyoko hoped against hope.

Keiko could only nod her dark eyes full of regret. "You may already guess what brought me to this situation, eh, Nyoko?" Keiko mused aloud.

Nyoko knew all right…it was the sole reason Keiko always got into such trouble. "Ah…your father, correct?" Nyoko answered, sighing.

Again, Keiko could only nod. "Hai, you know all too well just how much I loath my pathetic excuse for a father…" Keiko grumbled, her pretty eyes narrowing in her disgust.

Nyoko nodded, wishing that her friend would just ignore the rich, spiteful old man. But, she knew, Keiko had apparently inherited more than just money from him…she inherited his stubborn, devil-may-care approach to solving problems. Which, Nyoko then mused to herself, is why I've been with Keiko on so many other occasions much like these…

"Hai, you do…I can see," Keiko began, placing her hand over Nyoko's in thanks. She then mused a moment silently…then continued. "Hmm, where to begin? Ah, I know…please allow me to explain my what has happened. I did what I did for other reasons than simply accruing more wealth…I did it to specifically wreak my revenge on my insipid auto-obsessed father. Please understand, that to even get his meager attention, I was forced to deal with his auto-obsession, first hand. To be blunt, I began counterfeiting prize cars, classic cars, so that I could lure him into buying that which I had to offer! Unfortunately, I suppose…I was a bit too good at doing so…for I did get him to buy my bogus car---to the tune of over sixteen million American dollars!---but, in the process…I---er---um, well…look, I got caught."

"I am most surprised," Nyoko interjected then. "You are usually most meticulous in your planning, my friend. Just how did Interpol manage to find out your plans and apprehend you?" Nyoko asked, and then thought a moment longer. "Correct me if I am wrong, Keiko-san…but, I had heard you were cultural attaché at the Japanese Embassy. Does that not mean---?"

"---that I would be immune to prosecution?" Keiko replied angrily. "Hai, I would of thought so too…let me assure you! However, I was not. But, do not think that Interpol alone was responsible for my capture, my friend. Ha! Do you think that I have become so sloppy, so inept that Interpol's clowns could manage to figure me out and arrest me? Hmm? Do you?"

Nyoko shrugged. "I would of thought it most unlikely, Keiko-san," she answered tentatively, but then plunged ahead anyway. "Yet…here you are, neh?"

Keiko glared at her friend, not because she was mad at her…no, but because she had been bested. "Ha! Interpol, by itself…no, it could not of accomplished a feat such as this. No, the only reason my plans fell through, Nyoko, was I inadvertently found myself pitted against the infamous Cooper Gang without any clue I was doing so," Keiko explained. "It was the Master Thief himself, Sly Cooper, and his rather opinionated lady friend, who saw through my plans, somehow bested both myself and my retainers, and finally brought about my capture."

Nyoko blinked at that, then blurted out, "The Cooper Gang? Really, Keiko-san?" Nyoko's big golden-brown eyes were now wide. "I had hardly thought this petty theft of yours hardly worth his notice."

"No, I would of not thought so either," Keiko agreed. "Now, however, I have a larger problem than the good Master Thief's troublesome interference in my carefully laid plans."

"Oh? How so, Keiko-san?" Nyoko posed, resting her hands upon the tabletop, one slender dark brow arching.

Keiko blushed, lowering her dark pretty eyes in shame. "As a result of my apparent carelessness…our good Interpol Captain has all she and her prosecutor friends might need to throw the proverbial book at me," she confessed, still looking away.

"Hmm, I have my doubts to that, Keiko," Nyoko disagreed. "Surely there are holes in their evidence and timelines, neh?"

"Iye," Keiko told her, shaking her head. "I managed to provide them with the three M's toward a conviction: means, method, and motive."

"But…surely, there is no way you could of provided them all three!" Nyoko protested, her mind reeling now. "I mean…how is such a thing possible?"

Keiko nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Unfortunately, it is, my friend," Keiko admitted in disgust. "I do not know how…but Cooper and his associates somehow managed to provide Interpol with all three…in one neat little package."

"Hmm, all right," Nyoko replied, crossing her arms before her chest defensively. "Let's hear their proof then, neh?"

Keiko sighed, then finally looked up into her friend's eyes. "First, means: somehow Cooper---or one of his Gang most likely---must of expertly hacked into my computer and downloaded what I thought to be secure files that provided them with my monetary transactions, my research files on my counterfeit cars…everything! I cannot believe it…my samurai were some of the best computer techs I could find!" Keiko could only shake her head in her disbelief.

"Mmm, apparently not good enough," Nyoko countered with a frown.

Keiko ignored that. "Second…method: alas, that information was also well-documented on that blasted disc...my initial plans, my notes and journals, my many sketches---both of past and present autos---were all there. They even managed to copy the code from my website! It was all on there!" Keiko explained, then blushed hotly, looking away a long moment, "That's in addition to Interpol also receiving the actual counterfeit Lamborghini for evidence as well…"

"Aiee," Nyoko groaned, nearly hearing the thump of yet another nail into the coffin of her friend's case. "You certainly are making my job most challenging, my friend…that much is for certain."

Keiko blushed yet again, still not able to meet Nyoko's eyes. "Then, last but not least…motive: Cooper---damn him!---somehow managed to digitally record me as I was telling my retainers of my…er, master plans…"

"Bragging, you mean," Nyoko corrected, then groaned, fearing her friend's case was all but air-tight against her now. "You certainly dove into this one with both feet, Keiko-san," she observed wryly.

"Hai! Both of my feet encased firmly in cement, it would seem," Keiko offered a moment later, feeling rather dismal.

"Keiko, Keiko…Keiko," Nyoko tried, feeling rather dejected just about now. "I fear that you've made it nearly impossible me to get you off without some prison time, my friend. I am sorry."

"Not to worry, my friend," Keiko told her solemn friend. "I know you will do your very best on my behalf." Keiko then smiled for the first time. "However, think, Nyoko! Do you think my proud father will allow any daughter of his to shame him this way…by being jailed? Hmm, I think not. I am fairly certain that even if all should go as you and I predict it to…I will not remain in jail for long."

Nyoko shook her head, pessimistic still. "I would not be so sure, Keiko-san," Nyoko told her. "I know that Senji Zuikawa is a powerful and influential man…but, this is Interpol we are dealing with."

"Exactly," Keiko pressed on. "Interpol is, after all, international, neh? That means my father will use his connections to secure my release." Keiko then thumped her small fist down on the table. "Which, my friend, shall not happen!"

"What?" Nyoko exclaimed in disbelief. "You mean, you wish to be imprisoned? Keiko…are you out of your mind?"

"No, but please listen, Nyoko-san," Keiko replied, taking her friend's hand again. "If my father does free me, he will have his thugs 'escort' me home," she explained.

"And…this is a bad thing, because---?" Nyoko ventured.

"Think, Nyoko!" Keiko said softly, harshly. "I will be sent home in shame, and my idiot father will marry me off to one of his horrid cronies, yet another Zuikawa brood-mare for his stables!" Keiko's dark brown eyes were sick with the horror of that possibility. "I would rather die than suffer such a fate, Nyoko!"

Nyoko knew just what Keiko would be feeling, all right. "Hmm, I see," Nyoko assured her. "Though, as you say, Interpol is indeed an international entity. And, as such, they have far-encompassing jurisdiction in cases abroad…such as ours."

"They do?" Keiko asked, hope flickering in her eyes now. "Tell me…what can we do?"

"Well, I suppose," Nyoko began, a small smile ghosting her reddened lips then. "I could let slip that the Japanese government would be most appreciative if there were some way for this case to avoid the attention of the Japanese media. As a favor to my most contrite client's poor famous father's reputation, hmm?"

"Perfect!" Keiko proclaimed, smiling a bright smile. "Oh, Nyoko-san, I knew you would think of something! You always do, eh my friend?"

Nyoko smiled a moment of thanks, then sobered. "You do realize though, Keiko, that you will most likely spend some time in a French jail. Are you up for something like that, my friend?" Nyoko explained, gripping Keiko's hand sympathetically.

Keiko paled a bit, thought a moment, but finally nodded emphatically. "Hai! A few years in French jail is far preferable to a lifetime of servitude to my impossible father. Do what you must, Nyoko-san…"

"Hai, I shall," Nyoko promised. "I shall talk to Captain Connelly, and give her my suggestion. Then, her Chief will contact Japanese government, and they in turn will allow them to arrest you here, in France, and charge you. With the case and evidence the prosecution has, I fear you will be convicted." Nyoko then thought a long moment, then looked back at her friend again. "Hmm, however…if you could provide Interpol with information they deem note-worthy, I could perhaps get them to offer you a much reduced sentence."

"Information, eh?" Keiko posed aloud, even as her clever mind thought that over a moment. "What sort of information, my friend?"

Nyoko blinked, caught off guard with that. "Well, er, um…how about providing them with information about Sly Cooper and his ladyfriend?" Nyoko proposed, eyes brightening. "Hai! The elusive Master Thief and his gang have eluded Interpol for years now! I imagine that---!"

Keiko cut Nyoko off, a bit abruptly. "Iye!" Keiko instructed, shaking her head in conviction. "That would be most dishonorable. No, think of something else."

Keiko---while she had been cooling her heels in the holding cell---had already pondered that action. After much internal debate, she finally decided not to tell the police about Sly and Carmelita. She could hardly provide them much more than her eyewitness account---which was unsubstantiated, of course!---to the Master Thief even being there. Not that her testimony would be worth much. However, she could drop a bombshell on Interpol by telling them that Sly Cooper's lovely associate was none other than Carmelita Fox, ex-Interpol Inspector! Ooh, initially at least, that had tasted very sweet to Keiko.

"No, I will not, Nyoko-san," Keiko reiterated, thinking back. It was true that Carmelita had proved a far more impressive adversary than Keiko had ever thought possible. And, she had proven most instrumental in landing Keiko in her current predicament. However, she could hardly blame Carmelita for that…what did she expect the formidable vixen to do, after all? Lay down and give up? Hardly! Keiko found herself impressed with the Spanish vixen. Carmelita had proved more than a match for her own considerable swordsmanship. And, that, was why Keiko would not use Carmelita to secure her own skin…for, she wanted to defeat Carmelita, all by herself!

"But, Keiko-sama!" Nyoko protested in exasperation. "You---!"

"Iye! Iye, I say!" Keiko barked, cutting her well-meaning friend off. "Besides, my friend, we have other cards to play."

Nyoko narrowed her golden-brown eyes in suspicion. "What's this? What other 'cards' are we talking about? Keiko, do not play with me, my friend!"

"Easy, Nyoko-san," Keiko soothed, knowing she was playing a bit fast and loose for poor Nyoko's preferences. "I do really have a plan, my friend."

"Very well," Nyoko replied, after sighing expansively in her frustration. "Tell me…"

Keiko laughed softly, then nodded her lovely head. "I shall…right now! Nyoko…do you remember that e-mail I asked you to send to my father? The day of my capture?"

Nyoko was intrigued---as she always was---by Keiko's devious machinations. "Hai, I do," Nyoko said guardedly, but with a smile. "What of it?"

Keiko smiled a toothy grin at her friend. "You shall see, Nyoko-san," Keiko pledged. "But, first, please call in our friend the Captain. I would appreciate a word with her, neh?"

"Very well," Nyoko replied, already reaching for the phone.

Meanwhile, at Naomi's office at C'est Sing…

A much-relieved, yet still curious, Svetlana looked up, and blinked to find Naomi curiously staring at her, though she did gently smile. "What is it, Naomi?" Svetlana asked. "Why do you smile so?"

Naomi blinked, then softly giggled. "It is nothing, cheri. Oh, might I guess that Madame braided your hair this morning, Svetlana?"

"Da, she did," Svetlana agreed, though she frowned, then smiled a soft smile. "It's lovely…but it feels a bit tight to me. Madame thought it would look good on me, though." Svetlana grinned and shrugged.

"Madame, as always, was correct," Naomi told the small yet beautiful tigress with a smile. "You look very lovely this morning, cheri." Naomi smiled warmly as she saw Svetlana blush. "Now, as for it feeling tight, Svetlana…well, it is a French braid, so…it's supposed to be that way," Naomi explained.

"I suppose," Svetlana answered, not knowing just what to say really.

Naomi smiled softly in apology, knowing she was being a bit cryptic this morning. Well, she mused to herself, that is about to change! "Now, Svetlana…you asked me the reason for this meeting, oui?" Naomi asked.

Svetlana nodded her head eagerly.

"Of course. Why would you not, hmm?" Naomi ventured, grinning. "May I take it that Madame Yuri talked to you on a subject before you left home, oui?"

"Um, da…she did," Svetlana replied wearily. "Most extensively, I would say."

Naomi laughed softly, imagining that talk. "Then, Svetlana my friend, you most likely already know why you are here with me, hmm?" Naomi told the girl.

Svetlana sighed, closing her big lovely brown eyes. "Bozhe moi! I knew it," she muttered. She then looked over into Naomi's lovely amber eyes. "Please, Naomi…may I ask what this sudden fascination with me and my looks is all about?"

"Oh, but of course, cheri," Naomi smiled, prepping herself for the inevitable battle to come. "Here, please allow me to explain, oui? You see, cheri…one of our top models, a woman named Vigdis Eriksen---you have seen her, eh cheri? --- has decided to retire from C´est Sing. Her daughter has just had five children of her own, and well…Vigdis has decided she would like to be a grandmother. It is sad for C'est Sing now, true…however, we are all so happy for our Vigdis!"

"That is good," Svetlana agreed, thinking well of the woman who wished to be with her daughter and her grandchildren.

"Oui, it is," Naomi said, nodding her head, her platinum hair tossing slightly. "However, with Vigdis retiring now…she leaves poor Yuri short-handed for next month´s pictorial advertisement campaign. Alas…"

Svetlana might have been just a bit naïve at times…but she was no dummy! "Ah…so that's why you both have been after me!" she declared, crossing her arms before her chest, her body language showing her stubbornness. "You and Madame want me to be the replacement for this retiring model!" Svetlana had to admit that a part of her felt very flattered. And, yet…still another part of her wanted to dash away from Naomi's office, screaming! "Me? A model? Aiee, Naomi…a model? Bozhe moi! No, I cannot. I'm not that beautiful!"

Naomi shook her head, realizing she had her work cut out for her. "Ah now, cheri," Naomi soothed gently. "That is simply not true…and even you know it…deep down within yourself, Svetlana."

Svetlana couldn't help herself and blushed, looking away from Naomi's intent amber-hued eyes. She then shook her head warily and wearily. "Nyet. No, I'm not," she protested adamantly…though in a very soft voice.

Naomi leaned forward toward Svetlana now, peering encouragingly at the poor girl. "Come now, cheri…do not tell me that you have not heard the girls here compare your looks to those of Madame's herself? I do find that hard to believe…"

Svetlana blinked, her eyes wild, her heart thundering in her chest. Svetlana could scarcely listen to such nonsense. She directed her gaze to Naomi, pleading with her. "Naomi, spasiba…stoy!" she pleaded, lapsing into Russian in her consternation. "I will not listen! I, as beautiful as Madame? Hmpf! I think not!" What ridiculousness! Svetlana fumed.

"Svetlana, but it is true!" Naomi pressed, taking Svetlana's hands in her own. "Even Yuri says this is so! She sees great potential in you, cheri."

"She-She does?" Svetlana stammered, stunned to hear this. "Really?" Then, Svetlana's own pessimism cut in. "She is mistaken, Naomi…she just is."

Naomi scowled at the stubborn girl. "Non! Madame is many things now, true," Naomi pointed out. "But, wrong is not one of them!" Naomi pulled Svetlana toward her---though gently---so that the girl was staring into her own eyes. "If Yuri tells me that you are as beautiful as she was when she was your age, then…who am I to disagree? Or you, for that matter, eh?"

Svetlana felt trapped, and…that was not a pleasant feeling. "Please, Naomi," she pleaded softly, her eyes beginning to glisten. "You must stop…please!"

"I will," Naomi told her, and smiled when Svetlana did. She then turned a bit more serious, adding, "When you realize what we all see in you, my very lovely friend."

Svetlana dropped her head down, feeling as if she would like to cry. Why couldn't they all see? She demanded of herself. I am pretty, da…but beautiful? I do not think so! "Naomi, just look at me, da!" Svetlana protested, her head snapping back up. "Can you honestly see me as some cover model for C'est Sing?" Svetlana couldn't…that was for certain!

"Actually," Naomi mused a moment, "I can…and, cheri…would you like to know why?"

Svetlana sort of expected Naomi to say something along those lines…except for the last bit. "Why?" she demanded before she could even stop herself.

"Come, cheri. Come on," Naomi said as she got gracefully to her feet, beckoning Svetlana to follow. When she didn't, Naomi moved around her desk, took the girl's hands in her own again, and helped her to her feet. "Now, follow me, oui?"

Svetlana allowed Naomi to guide her to the opposite wall, where a floor-to-ceiling mirror covered the wall. Svetlana blinked as she gazed at the reflections of both herself and the taller Naomi in the mirror. She blinked again, then cautiously looked over and up into Naomi's spotted face.

Naomi smiled warmly down at the curvy little beauty beside her. "Now, look cheri…look, but do not criticize," Naomi instructed. "See yourself as we your friends do…just this once, hmm?"

Svetlana reluctantly looked down and into the mirror. She sighed, realizing that she was a pretty woman…after all, men had been telling her that for years now, hadn't they? But, for all that, she still felt her self-doubt then begin nibbling at her confidence. "Naomi, I do not---"she began, only to be cut off.

"Please, mon petite," Naomi urged in a soft voice. "Look at me, but at yourself as well. See what we your friends can see in you…"

Svetlana again looked at both their reflections in the mirror. Oh, but how she envied Naomi her long leggy frame, her shining bright hair. Svetlana felt she appeared a bit…er, well, squat and dark. Then, she remembered Naomi's request in her mind, and looked again at Naomi, while seeing herself in her peripheral vision. Svetlana nearly gasped then…seeing her small yet curvaceous form in a better light in for the first time in a long while. While she did not possess either Naomi or Madame's long svelte grace, she did have a certain well, something, all of her own. She saw her somewhat lush figure, and smiled at the pleasing curves of her body, as well as the deep dark gleam of her sable hair. "Naomi! I---I had no idea…"

"Ah, you see it then, eh cheri?" Naomi questioned, feeling a surge of wild hope in her heart then. "Why your friends all tell you just how lovely you are, hmm?"

"Da, a little," Svetlana admitted with a smile, and a disbelieving shake of her dark-haired head.

"Ah, but how I wish I had even half the figure you do, my friend," Naomi observed just a bit ruefully. She eyed herself critically. "I am tall, bony, and not very feminine…"

"That is an absolute lie!" Svetlana protested…just a bit vehemently. "Oh, Naomi…you are so pretty! You are like a flower…proud, tall, and so very lovely!"

Naomi felt herself shiver at Svetlana's description. She grinned at the young woman beside herself. "Merci. But, look at me, cheri. I am nearly flat-chested," and here Naomi felt her heart lurch, "and have such a skinny rump and hips." She then grinned. "But, true…I do like my arms and my legs," she added, then grinned cleverly, "as does my Murray."

Svetlana laughed softly. "I'm sure he does, Naomi," she agreed. "But, as for being well…you know," Svetlana stammered, vaguely indicating her own chest. "Being smaller is not a bad thing, you know." She then laughed. "What is it about we girls, hmm? We always seem to wish we were exactly the opposite of what we are."

"I do not know, cheri," Naomi replied, smiling. "It is like how I wish I had such rich dark hair like yours, perhaps." Naomi reached out to lightly dance her fingertips over Svetlana's slightly wavy deep black hair.

Svetlana grinned. "While I, my friend, wish I could have bright shining long hair such as you," she countered.

"This?" Naomi replied, smiling as she tossed her head. "Whatever for?"

"You do not understand," Svetlana told her. "From where I come from, golden hair such as yours would almost guarantee every boy from my village would be at your door, my friend."

Naomi blinked, startled. "Remarkable," she observed. "Ah, but it would be much like your beautiful hair in France, cheri. There are not many women in this part of France with hair such as yours."

"Carmelita does…and her hair is very lovely," Svetlana pointed out.

"Oui, but she is Spanish, remember?" Naomi countered, smiling.

Svetlana laughed again. "You are right, of course," she agreed, then sighed. "Naomi…I'm still not convinced I'm the girl for the modeling job."

Naomi leaned over to kiss Svetlana upon the top of her head, smiling. "I know, cheri…I know," she allowed. "But, you should."

Svetlana shivered, both from the feeling of fear within herself, as well as the feeling of…well, was it excitement? Da, it was! However, she still could not see what everyone seemed to see in herself. "Naomi, please…honestly," Svetlana began. "Am I really as beautiful as you all say?"

Naomi smiled warmly at her. "Even more so, cheri," Naomi told her, and laughed softly as the little tigress blushed hotly. Naomi then lifted a hand up to lift Svetlana's chin to bring her eyes up to meet her own. "Did not your Monsieur Mallory declare you an 'angel', mon belle petite?" she pointed out.

Svetlana smiled a bright smile at that…the memory of him saying that one of the most exciting in her young life. "Da, he did…and he was so sweet to do so," Svetlana pointed out, smiling a most telling smile. She then shook herself gently out of her reverie, and grinned at the clever cheetah woman. "Nice try, Naomi…you are very clever, mon ami."

"Alas, a girl can but try these days, no?" Naomi ventured with a theatrical, seemingly much put-upon smile.

Svetlana giggled, feeling her anxiety and fears lessen appreciably. "I promise, tovarisch," Svetlana pledged, "I will think on what you---and Madame---wish of me. I will."

Naomi sighed, then shook her head, smiling. "I suppose I can ask for nothing more, cheri," Naomi finally replied. She then pulled Svetlana into a warm hug a moment. "That is for saying such wonderful thing about me, cheri…you know, your tall skinny friend."

"Naomi," Svetlana replied, defending her. "You are indeed tall," she told her, smiling wistfully as she wished she too could be taller, "but skinny? I think not. More like delightfully slender, hmm?"

Naomi giggled. "I like the way you think, cheri," she told the girl, giving her yet another hug. "I tell you what, Svetlana…"

"Hmm?" Svetlana asked, looking up into Naomi's face once more.

"We two shall be our mutual admiration society, what do you say?" Naomi proposed with a smile. "When either you or I feel less than thrilled about our appearance, the other shall point out just how silly their friend is being. Do we have an accord, cheri?"

"Done!" Svetlana agreed with a laugh, hugging Naomi fiercely enough to make the cheetah woman grunt, then laugh herself.

Both Naomi and Svetlana looked up a moment later when there came a polite knocked upon the door. Naomi looked to Svetlana, who looked back and shrugged. The two girls moved toward the door, curious as to see who had come to call. "Come in," Naomi called.

Maria poked her white-haired head inside the door, smiling. "Eh, I thought I would find the two of you here," she observed with a thankful nod. "I beg your pardon, Naomi…but, well it is lunch time, and…er, our gentlemen friends are due to arrive, my Svetlana," she announced.

"I see, Maria," Naomi nodded and looked at Svetlana. "Now, Svetlana---" she began, but Svetlana cut her off.

"Da, I know, Naomi. I know," Svetlana told her friend. "I will think about what you've said. Really, I shall. I am still not sure I agree with you, Naomi…but, I shall think about it."

"Think about what?" Maria asked…confused, which was only to be expected, one would assume.

Svetlana moved over to Maria's side. "I shall tell you on the way to lunch, all right?" Svetlana promised. She and Maria then smiled at each other…happy, knowing smiles. Svetlana turned back to Naomi a moment. "Now, if you would excuse us both, Mademoiselle Rousseau…we Russians would like to have our lunch."

Naomi grinned at Svetlana's teasing. "Oh, pff! Get out of here, the both of you! And see to it that you behave yourselves, do you hear?"

"Da, we shall!" Maria and Svetlana promised, laughing as they nearly ran out toward the entrance of C'est Sing to greet both Jack and Sean, who had just arrived at C'est Sing's front door that very moment.