4. Allies for now

A few days later, Rusty found himself sitting on yet another terrace in the sun, only this time it was overlooking a quiet lake, and his company was considerably smaller. Apart from him, there were only Linus, Frank and Saul, seated in surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs and with a low table holding a tempting selection of cool drinks before them.

Also, this was not exactly the house of a friend.

The master of this house sat perched on the white stone balustrade, so that the bright morning sun dyed the sandy-coloured curls on one side of his head golden. Apparently quite perfectly at his ease, he had tucked his dark-tinted, reflecting sunglasses into the breast pocket of his short-sleeved Hawaii shirt, which generously exposed part of his tanned, lightly haired chest. Altogether, he was giving the impression of polite boredom.

This is going quite well, Rusty thought. Aloud, he said, "So, François, it seems you have nothing better to do."

François Toulour shrugged. "Oh, I always find myself something to do. It's not as if I get bored that easily."

Rusty and Saul exchanged a glance, and Rusty remarked, "From what I've heard lately, indeed not."

"The little joke at Sorrento last month? Ah, that. Nothing but a trifle."

"No need to be modest," said Rusty, though he assumed that this was more arrogance than modesty, claiming this spectacular coup had been nothing at all.

"Yes," Linus put in. "It was plain brilliant." Rusty inwardly smiled to himself; he had instructed Linus beforehand, just like Danny had instructed him, that flattery might be very useful here.

"Well, it certainly took some very careful preparation and planning." A dark-haired boy of about ten, maybe eleven, stepped out into the sunlight carrying a tray laden with fruit and biscuits, and while Toulour acknowledged his presence with a nod, he continued speaking as if he were not there at all. "That I'd get in easiest from the cliff was obvious, but planning the route once I got inside was hard, since there was no floor plan or anything to be had, and getting inside under a false pretence was out of the question. Well, obviously I thought of something in the end."

"Say," Frank said, with a brief, but suspicious glance at the boy, who was taking longer than necessary to place the tray on the table and was wearing a very ill-concealed smirk, "was this why you went down there in the first place?"

"Not really, but part of it."

"The biannual regatta," the boy provided, his voice a clear child's soprano. "Quite an event."

"Timon," Toulour said, "if you'd just get the cake…"

"Whatever my Master commands," the boy pronounced with mock pompousness, and thrusting his hands into the pockets of his maroon-coloured shorts, he went back into the house, yet he did not hurry at all.

Linus was wearing an expression of utmost astonishment, and Saul and Frank exchanged a glance of mild bafflement. Only Rusty did not show his initial surprise. "That one's not a servant, eh?"

"My skipper for the regatta," Toulour answered shortly. "Remarkable talent."

"And… you use him here?" Frank asked, already chewing on a slice of ananas, heedless of the juice dribbling down his chin.

"I found him at Hamburg in April and took him along."

It appeared to Rusty that Toulour was purposefully avoiding the true meaning of Frank's question. "And I doubt it was out of charity," he remarked. Well, no matter what the boy's real use was, it was not important for now, and if it should become so later on, they would doubtlessly find out. "So, François, have you made up your mind yet? We've made our offer. Equal share in winnings and glory. I know, the Night Fox works alone, but it's very useful to be known to have contacts."

Toulour laughed. "You think I need protection?"

"No. I just think branching out is useful in our metier."

Saul smiled at this, but said nothing, and Linus and Frank remained silent as well, watching them. There was a definite hint of tension in the air, Rusty thought. Toulour was seemingly at his ease, and Rusty was doing his best to give just the same impression, which was working well, no doubt, but still, it was there.

"How about women?"

For a moment even Rusty was startled, then he shrugged. "Well, I'm sure you can find yourself a girl there quite easily."

"If you're not too choosy," Frank muttered and bit a large chunk out of a slice of melon.

Rusty reached for a handful of chocolate-covered biscuits and decided not to let Toulour get too close to Isabel, if he could help it. Personally, he would not categorise him as overly attractive, but he knew how different women's taste could be, and as long as he had not heard from Isabel that she found Toulour frighteningly ugly, he would be careful.

This is silly jealousy, he scolded himself. Isabel doesn't like him anyway.

Yes, but she has never met him yet, or has she?

But I think her father has shown her pictures. And she hasn't yet started raving about how incredibly sexy he is or anything.

Well, that's not the kind of thing a woman does in front of her boyfriend, is it now?

Inwardly rolling his eyes at his train of thought, Rusty helped himself to a piece of mango on a thin wooden stick.

"To be exact," Toulour elaborated, "I was thinking of a nice alibi, a way of making myself look a bit more respectable. Pretending I have a wife might help, wouldn't it?"

"Guess so," Frank muttered.

Rusty shrugged. "Theoretically, yes. But she'd have to be in on it all, keep that in mind. I doubt you're overly trusting towards anyone, but this might just be pushing it, my friend." Oh come on, he thought, inwardly rolling his eyes, can't the man spend a week or maybe two without a girl in his bed?

Toulour was wearing an incredibly smug expression now. "Don't think I haven't thought of that. What I had in mind was a woman even you would trust, and a woman who certainly knows everything already. Let me think…" He rested his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand in a mock pose of pondering. "How about a certain Isabel Lahiri, I wonder?"

After a moment of silence, Rusty said, "You're a right devious bastard, you know that?"

"Yes," Toulour answered pleasantly, "I do."

Frank was muttering something unintelligible to himself, while Linus was openly scowling at Toulour, who, of course, appeared quite unabashed.

Saul's eyebrows contracted sharply under the rim of his sun hat. "Now listen here, young man," he spoke up, and there was a tone of indignation in his voice, "you may be of noble birth, but your manner and behaviour is certainly not that of a gentleman. You have broken rules before and shown you're not trustworthy, but this is going even further. It's not only impertinent to the extreme, it's… it's…" He struggled for words, gesturing helplessly. "Highly immoral," he finished. "Indeed."

"Ah, and you're the right one to teach me about morals, Mr Bloom?" There was neither sarcasm nor a steely edge to be heard in Toulour's voice; it sounded like a perfectly innocent question. Even his expression was that of innocence. The man possessed a certain boyish charm, Rusty had to admit, and knew precisely how to employ it.

"I have never fallen so low!" Saul snapped, overriding Rusty's attempt at soothing words. "In exchange for your services, you demand to have someone's wife with you every night –"

"Girlfriend, Saul," Rusty interrupted decidedly. "And he didn't exactly –"

"I never asked to spend one single night with her," Toulour answered the accusation calmly. "This is all about pretending."

"He aims to provoke, Saul," Rusty observed. "Don't do him the favour and react to it." Ignoring Saul's indignant snort, he continued, looking directly at Toulour, "For your information, I trust Isabel, and if she wants to do this is her own decision, not mine. However, this is a warning: You love your pranks, we know, but don't let your jester spirit get in the way of this… job. Got it?"

"Calm yourself, Robert. My surroundings usually are playground enough for me, if there are a couple of challenges to keep me occupied. Ah, there you are," he stated, and Rusty turned his head to see the boy – Timon, wasn't it? – return with a large platter of temptingly arranged slices of cake.

The boy took a mock bow, and for a moment Rusty feared he was about to drop the platter. "At your service, Master."

"Say, Timon," Toulour addressed him while he placed his burden on the table, which was rather full now, "what do you think of the Sunshine Resort?"

"The name's plain cheesy," the boy proclaimed immediately, "but the rest sounds brilliant. I checked their homepage, they actually have a wildwater channel thingy connected to the funnily shaped pool with the bridge over it, and there's a miniature golf course, and a climbing wall in the gym, and they have a stable with twelve horses and somewhere you can borrow bikes, and there's a whirlpool and a big slide in the big pool –"

"Alright," Toulour interrupted, half smiling and raising a hand, "that will do."

The boy fell silent, sitting down on the balustrade beside him and watching him with an air of eagerness that could practically be considered breathless anticipation, dangling his sneaker-clad heels against the balustrade restlessly.

"And there's a small casino, too," Linus pointed out. "Low-security, of course." Saul caught his eye, and they exchanged a knowing smile.

"You'll be ball boy at the tennis court, Linus," Frank reminded him. "Or dragging someone's golf wagon."

"Only because you won't even be on the grounds…" Linus grumbled. When he tried the cake, it helped to lighten his mood immediately, though.

"So we're talking business," Toulour said, ignoring Saul, who was still glowering at him. "I don't exactly see the winnings coming my way as yet, but I'm in for the fun, so never mind the winnings. To take up our discussion from before again, I suggest I play the part of some rich snob from the Côte d'Azur who's growing a bit bored there. I'll leave the casino to you lot, since it'll be part of my role to be bored of Monaco, but I'll be at the tennis courts, the pools and the stables. I'd rather leave golf to someone else, since I've always found it a somewhat boring occupation, but I'm sure Benedict will gratefully take that field. He must be quite an enthusiast, from what I've seen the couple of times I've, well, taken a look around at his place." He chuckled dryly. "As for Isabel, my suggestion is, as I said before, that we pretend I have a wife. A married man is so much less suspicious to most than a bachelor, interestingly. In exchange, Robert gets the boy."

"Hang on," Rusty interrupted. "I can follow you so far. I can actually see that you'll make a better respectable snob than me," here he glanced down at his tattooed forearm, which was partially revealed by his rolled-up shirtsleeve, "and I get your point about Isabel. But what with the boy?"

"Your nephew," Toulour explained. "Won a school price for tireless work and outstanding marks, broke some nerdy school record, big deal, and you think he deserves a treat for that. If the stuffed-up lot around you don't take to you, they'll take to the boy. He'll be thirteen next month, but he's small and skinny for his age, so you can easily pretend he's ten, and he's got a skill for charming people out of their wits by playing the cute smart kid. Also, he's good at creating a diversion, and at asking innocent questions."

"So I'll take him swimming and mini-golfing and set him on people, to win their trust or keep them distracted?" Rusty gave the boy a smile, which was answered by a broad grin. "That's certainly clever. Good scheming for someone who usually works alone," he added, remembering his own advice about flattery. Well, it might be worth a try, he thought, chewing on yet another biscuit. But before he agreed to anything, he would make sure Isabel slept in his own room, and the boy in Toulour's.

Toulour acknowledged the compliment with a nod. "I've used both methods before, myself, though I never yet had a woman with me who was overly useful in that aspect."

"Trouble finding the right girl, mate?" Frank put in, half muffled through a mouthful of cake.

"Let's say I haven't yet found the girl who's right for everything." Timon giggled, and Toulour nudged him into silence. "But at least I can provide a useful child decoy."

Saul had never stopped mustering Toulour with utmost suspicion, and now he pointed out, "But he's a mere boy. How can we trust a boy with something like that?"

Rusty pricked up his ears; this was a justified question. A child could be used for certain tasks, of course, but one always had to keep in mind that children often could not keep secrets too well.

"He's not just any boy." Toulour tousled Timon's dark hair fondly. "This is Timon the Monkey, and also the Fox Cub, ever since Sorrento."

"Blimey!" Linus exclaimed, and Rusty could not quite suppress a small smile of amusement at this reaction. "You mean you're training the boy?"

"He was involved in the Sorrento job?" Frank was measuring Timon up critically, and Rusty agreed with what he assumed Frank was thinking right now: In that case, they had noticed that something was out of the ordinary, but they had most likely underestimated the child. Just to be sure, Rusty briefly checked his pockets, but nothing was missing. Well, better overestimate than underestimate someone.

"I helped," the boy said proudly. "When he seduced that girl, I nicked the keys, and I distracted the dog with a super soaker, and since he's a lot heavier than me, he let me climb, well, no, sort of pulled me up on a –"

"That's enough," Toulour interrupted gently, but still his tone made it thoroughly clear that he did not want Timon to share his secrets with others.

"But they're thieves too," Timon protested. "They're something like friends, right?"

"Allies," Toulour corrected. "For now. You'll yet have to learn the difference."

"Don't be too trusting, kid," Rusty agreed. "Especially with people whose names you don't know." Maybe they had not underestimated the boy overmuch, after all. "You employ the art of seduction as more than just a hobby, François? With some… little chemical helpers, by any chance?"

Toulour laughed and shook his head. "When I need it, it usually works well enough without. But I remember an occasion where it would have been really useful."

"We'll have some of that stuff around, just in case," Rusty said. "Because we've heard interesting rumours about one of – ah, never mind for now, we'll come to that later."

"Can the boy really be trusted to keep his mouth shut?" Saul took up the matter from before again, and Frank and Linus nodded to it. "I mean, this is nothing personal," he gave Timon, who was scowling, a brief smile, "but we just heard him. It can happen."

"He was under the misapprehension that thieves who agree to work together for a little while readily share their methods among themselves," Toulour defended him. "This, shall we say, slight naivety, does not extend to any others, and since he is a quick learner, it will not happen again."

"And we don't have to fill him in on anything, right?" Frank pointed out.

It seemed to Rusty that Timon wanted to protest, but Toulour placed a hand on his shoulder, and he shut his mouth again before he had even opened it properly. For a moment, the only sound that filled the air was the unceasing lapping of Lake Como's waves against the shore, and then, far off, the cry of a gull.

"François," Rusty said abruptly, "I'd like to have a word with you in private."

"In private?" Toulour repeated, and Rusty had no doubt his surprise was genuine.

"In private. Just the two of us."

"If you insist." Toulour got up from his place on the wall. "Timon, keep our guests entertained until we get back."

"Yes, Master," Timon pronounced with mock pompousness. "Some more cake, anyone?"

Rusty heard Frank agree enthusiastically as he and Toulour sauntered along the terrace and down the steps to the shore side by side. Toulour led him towards a gravel path that wound its way through the grass and bushes, but turned in the other direction when they reached it, taking Rusty along a path of simple hard-packed dirt that was difficult to spot when one was not looking for it. For several yards they had to tread carefully because of brambles growing across it, hedges rising up on either side of them.

"What's this about?" Toulour asked casually. "The interesting rumours you intended to mention later, or once again Isabel?"

"Both," Rusty admitted, stepping over the last thorny branch winding across the path like a bristling serpent. Over a patch of high, rustling grass, they came to a small bower gently shadowed by wine leaves. "Wow, this looks romantic," he stated. "Is this where you take your unsuspecting pretty prey?"

Toulour grinned lopsidedly. "I thought it might be a good place to discuss Isabel." He motioned for Rusty to step in and followed.

"I just don't want to sit on any surface where you recently got someone laid," Rusty said, mustering the cushioned benches all around the little bower suspiciously.

"In that case, over there will be pretty safe." Toulour gestured to the left.

"Thank you." Rusty took a seat, and Toulour sat down opposite him. "Dare I ask if she was blond or dark?"

"Who, she?" Toulour vaguely gestured to the bench he was sitting on. "Dark. A pretty local girl. Her name's Bianca, if I'm not much mistaken. And she has very deft, skilled fingers." He smiled appreciatively. "But let's get back to business."

"You know," Rusty pointed out, "I resent you calling Isabel business."

"I beg you to differentiate," Toulour said smoothly. "It's not Isabel who's the business. It's us doing business with her."

"Good." Rusty took a bite of the last biscuit remaining to him and continued while chewing, "As I said, I trust her completely. But still, I don't trust you."

"I'm not going to try anything with her if she doesn't want to," Toulour interrupted. "I'm not that desperate for affection."

"According to Isabel, you two have never met before," Rusty continued. "It could have been possible, of course, and when I first learned that LeMarc was your mentor, it occurred to me that you and Isabel might know each other – until I remembered that she had not seen her father for a very long time." He only interrupted himself briefly to shove the other half of the biscuit into his mouth. "Otherwise, it would have been logical that the two of you would be closer acquainted. LeMarc's only student, and his only child… You're about the same age even. You could have been like brother and sister, or even childhood sweethearts of sorts…" Rusty chuckled. "So, if I were to ask you now if you had ever seen Isabel –?"

"I've seen pictures. Of the times when she was small."

"I didn't mean that, and you know it."

They faced each other across the narrow space between them, heedless of the summer breeze rustling the dark green leaves around them and above their heads, blue eyes boring into blue eyes. "No, I haven't been following her," Toulour said quietly. "And if you're hoping you can find out something about my current relationship to LeMarc by harping on possible memories of jolly old times, you're mistaken."

Rusty leaned back and sighed. "Suspicious bastard, you." And he had considered this move fairly subtle…

"Let's get to your other topic, then," Toulour suggested. "What was that bit of information you were keeping from me?"

Rusty considered this very briefly. "You said you're in, and you're not backing out?"

"In, and not backing out," Toulour confirmed. "Unless the circumstances that form the base of our agreement change vastly. The legal term would be clausula rebus sic stantibus, if I'm not much mistaken. Yet from what you said earlier on, I doubt this has even the slightest chance of falling under that category."

Very well… "One of our potential targets is rumoured to have a taste for men at least twenty years younger than he is. If we really have to use a bit of seduction on him, it's going to be one of us."

Toulour raised his eyebrows. If this revelation had been a bombshell to him, he did not show it. "One of us? Why not use that kid, Linus, wasn't it?"

"I wouldn't want him to do it," Rusty said firmly. "He's not quite as hard-nosed yet." Using this expression in context with Linus and seduction made him smile inwardly at a rather recent memory, the memory of their diamond theft. "He doesn't even know about that fact yet. Very few do."

"If you fear for his innocence, how far do you intend to go, then?"

"That's a personal thing, François. For you to decide."

Toulour chuckled, his lips contorted into a small lopsided grin, an expression Rusty had noticed before during their encounter. "You're hoping it's going to be me, eh?"

"I have to admit it," Rusty answered graciously. This all was a game to Toulour, it was very obvious that it was. A new challenge, a welcome entertainment. And for now, Rusty was glad that it was.

"I share your sentiment, only the other way 'round."

"This doesn't surprise me at all," Rusty remarked. Allies on the job, but working alongside each other, rather than together, each useful to the other for as long as it was of use to themselves. Danny had been absolutely right about the distraction… and about putting Toulour to some use in a couple of other fields, perhaps… Rusty decided that he had heard enough for now. Danny's plan would work. "In that case, I think we understand each other."

"As far as it's necessary," Toulour added slyly. "And as far as we want each other to understand."

Rusty nodded. "This, of course, goes without saying, my friend."

They exchanged a smile as they got to their feet once more, ready to rejoin the others, and Rusty was confident that this was going to be another successful coup.