Chapter Seventeen: The Long Con (Part Two)
The Elevens Bar, West End, London, England, Six Months Ago...
Their taxi pulled up to The Elevens Bar in the West End at about quarter to nine. Fashionably late, it already gave off an air of arrogance and importance before they had even entered. Darcy paid the driver and emerged with Charlie and Caroline. As the cab pulled away, he glanced up and down the street to check they were alone.
"Ok, full character from now on," he said softly. "Remember this is the most important part of it. We have to be quick to improvise and take any opportunities presented to solidify our cover. We need to be 100%, always focused, always with the objectives in sight."
"Any other clichés?" Caroline mocked him, causing him to laugh. She rarely made him laugh anymore, his mind flickered sadly.
"That's it. Let's go."
"Good luck!" Charlie hissed and led them inside towards a few hours that would decide everything. All the pieces matter…..
He noticed her straight away. Elizabeth Bennet. Everyone was dressed up to the nines, including himself, but she hadn't appeared to bother with such matters. If anything it just made her look more appealing to him. He'd always held the appearances of 'top tier' grifters in slight disdain. Yes, they had to look the part when playing the game, but there was no need to forget who they really were in their time off. They were all criminals, all scum, he included himself in this and was aware of the hypocrisy of his thoughts. It was refreshing for him to see someone who wasn't particularly worried about it all. She had nice eyes as well, he thought. Seeing them outside of the confines of a photograph suddenly drew him in more. They sparkled and laughed but with an air of mystery. Deep brown. Mind you, he spied the woman she was talking to, surveillance had identified her as Charlotte Lucas. Now she was just taking the piss he inwardly chuckled. Doc Martens and grunge gear, swigging from a hip flask. Oh dear.
They moved through the crowds, Charlie pressing the flesh, Caroline the same but more haughtily. Darcy played his part and pretty much ignored everyone. That was the way it had to be. After a while, they organically approached the Bennet's and Charlotte Lucas from behind, obscured from vision.
"I thought I'd just walk in front of him, say 'hey Mr Bingley, I'm Jane' and then slut drop him."
"You hear that Darcy? Sounds like I'm in for quite the treat."
Charlie was playing it too perfectly, Darcy thought a little while later. He shouldn't be worried, Charlie had done more than prove that his past indiscretions were behind him and that he was immune to the silly crisis and crushes that had plagued him at the start of his career. But Darcy had seen the look in his friend's eye when he had been introduced to Jane Bennet. Whether it was just brilliant acting or something else was debatable. Surely it was the former, this was what Charlie did and did so well. He shouldn't be doubting his friend with a complaint that he was doing his job too well.
Darcy was playing it perfectly as well. He saw the disdain in Elizabeth's eyes when she caught his own. It caused a twinge of disappointment that was worrying but he shook it off quickly, just had to remind himself why he was doing this. He heard the whispers begin about him, how rude he was, what a disappointment. Perfect. As he made his way around the room, he spied Elizabeth slip out onto the balcony alone with a fresh bottle of beer. He moved subtly over to the window and saw her relax onto a bench, hidden from sight of the main area. Time to improvise.
Luckily Charlie was not too far away from him and he had little trouble getting to him and getting him into a secluded comer reasonably quickly.
"You're doing well," he muttered, making sure any prying ears couldn't hear him. "That first line was a bit much, but you eased back perfectly."
"Thank you," Charlie said distractedly, eyes on Jane Bennet. Good, Darcy thought as Jane caught Charlie's eye and looked down quickly. He was remaining in character.
"Lizzy Bennet's just snuck out onto the balcony on her own. I think it's time we played a 'Leveson'.
"Ok."
"I'll go out for a smoke, come out a couple of minutes later, ease into it, natural conversation, something about quitting smoking. Turn the conversation to the Bennets, praise Jane, I'll insult her and admonish you. She'll hear everything and her opinions will be cemented."
"Improvisation." Charlie raised his beer.
"Improvisation," Darcy clinked back. "Oh, and add an insult on after I leave…."
Covent Garden, London, England, The Next Day...
"Will."
"George."
"I didn't know you were in London."
"Well, here I am. Come on, Charlie, let's go."
"I'm going to head up to Brick Lane with the Bennets here. Why don't you join us, Darcy?"
"I think not."
He walked away, shaking with anger. George fucking Wickham was here, and worse, he appeared to know the Bennet's. How the hell hadn't that been picked up in the background checks? He never thought he would see that man again, the man who had done so much damage to him, to his sister. But it wasn't as simple as burning hatred. George inspired in him a cocktail of emotions, always had. The man who had saved him from his grief, the man he had loved as a brother, the man who had led him down the darkest roads, the man who had stolen from him, the man who had stolen years of his sister's life, and the man who now threatened his final vindication.
His hands still shaking, he pulled out his phone and called Richard.
"Fucking Wickham's here," he spat down the phone as soon as it was answered. "How the fuck did you miss his connection to the Bennets?"
"George Wickham?" Richard replied, his voice laced with shock and anger. "Darcy, he never came up, I swear it. How's he connected to them?"
"I don't fucking know," Darcy almost shouted, causing Caroline, who had just approached him, to step back. "He's here and he looks very fucking cosy with them."
"Alright, calm down…" Richard attempted.
"Calm down? Are you kidding me, Richard? He's going to ruin everything. He ruins my life, my sister's life and now this as well."
"He's not going to ruin this," Richard said firmly. "Look, we don't know enough yet. Where are Charlie and Caro?"
"Caro's here and Charlie's gone to fucking dinner with the wanker."
"Look, calm yourself down and put Caro on the phone."
"Why?"
"Just fucking do it, Will!" Richard got angry for the first time. Darcy had enough sense to yield to his cousin. If Richard got angry and told you to do something then you listened. He knew what to do, he was cooler of the temper than he was. He would be able to look at it objectively.
"What the hell is going on Richard?" he heard Caroline speak as he moved away from her towards a bench. He sat there with his head in his hands, forgotten memories and repressed emotions swirling around his mind and body. He wouldn't let George ruin this, he wouldn't.
"Will…" he felt Caro softly touch his arm and her presence as she sat next to him. Felt comforted by it despite his misgiving towards her.
"I'm fine," he lifted his head. "What did Richard say?"
"We sit tight, go back to the hotel. Charlie will know what to do, he'll ask the right questions. It doesn't change anything, Will. He doesn't know what we're doing, no one does except the four of us. It's just a bump. He can't hurt us.."
"He's already hurt me," Darcy replied darkly.
"He hurt all of us, Will," Caroline responded sadly. "Don't forget that."
The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, Five Months Ago...
Again, Darcy found himself moving around an awful party. The Bennet's were yet to be seen, but the room was full enough with various important society and criminal figures. It was real as well, these weren't actors. They were all here under the impression that Charlie was going to be the new player in town, and his reputation had got them to the penthouse. It had taken all his contacts and connections to get them here. What would they say, he wondered, all these politicians and policemen, lawyers and players, if they knew that this whole charade was set up just so Charlie could get close to a short con player of little consequence? He expected they'd be furious. It was unimaginable to them that they weren't the most important person in the room. Well, they weren't. The most important person was an orphan by the name of Jane Bennet who was on probation for attempted burglary.
Charlie and Caro were again playing their roles to perfection, as always. He was staying out of it, in full antisocial mode. He couldn't just turn it off and on for when the performance really began and the marks arrived. He felt the buzzing in his pocket and knew automatically that it was Richard. He was the only man to have the number. He moved outside to answer, annoyed. No contact during the go, that was 101.
"This better be good, Richard," he hissed. "You know we're in the middle of something."
"Sorry, Darcy, but we have a major problem," Richard spoke quickly back.
"What's going on.?"
"Billy Collins is about to board a plane to London."
No, no. This couldn't be happening. It was too fast, they hadn't set up yet. He wasn't supposed to be arriving for another month. This was a catastrophe. They weren't close enough.
"What the hell?" Darcy whispered, conscious of how close he was to the party guests behind the glass doors.
"I know, I know. I fucked up. Catherine brought it all forward, I missed it. I'm up to speed now, but I fear I'm too late."
"We're barely on first-name terms with the Bennets!" Darcy hissed. "Even Charlie can't work this quickly. I mean, he's doing great, but we're not ready yet. He needs to spend more time with her to make it seem less suspicious!"
"Well, he has one more night I'm afraid. The good news is that Collins is staying with the Bennets. He took to the plant's suggestion."
"That's one good bit of news. But still, I'm not sure it's workable. We're not ready."
"You're going to have to be," Richard said in a serious tone. "Remember who we are Darcy, remember who you are. Remember what we're doing this for. Whatever it takes, ok?"
Richard hung up the phone, leaving Darcy dismayed and at a loss. He needed to talk to Charlie and Caro, needed them to bounce off. But that wasn't possible, they were in the middle of a score. Even worse, as he glanced through the window, he saw them greeting the Bennet sisters. It was too soon. Too soon.
Most worryingly of all, was his reaction to seeing Elizabeth Bennet. For a moment, he forgot where he was completely and just got lost in her vision. He thought she was beautiful and it was nice to see her unguarded when she wasn't looking at him with disgust. He shook himself and went back to the task at hand.
His mind turned. The plan was backfiring. In their attempts to seem natural, in their attempts to distract everyone from the real play by pretending to dislike everyone, they had taken away any wiggle room. They needed to spend as much time with them as possible today, needed Charlie to work his socks off, but no way would Elizabeth allow that. She would stay the bare amount of time possible, and drag Jane out the door with her. What the hell was he going to do? Could he change his tack, could he and Caroline begin to attempt to charm the sisters instead? No, he dismissed, they were too far down the other road. How to keep them here? How to make Charlie seem like an angel in both their eyes. How to…..
"Darcy, the Bennets are here…" he heard Caroline's voice.
He looked around and saw her face fall. They knew each other so well. She knew something big was wrong straight away.
"What is it?" she asked, moving close to him, leaning on the balcony rails, checking no one was around and that they were shielded from the conversations indoors
"Billy Collins is arriving in London tomorrow," he said simply, leaving Caroline's mask to slip and her face crumble.
"Fuck," she hissed, glancing inside again. "We're not ready! It's too soon, suspiciously too soon!"
"I know," he sighed.
They were quiet for a moment, knowing that they had to come up with something in the next minute or they were completely screwed. Darcy hit on an idea but dismissed it out of hand as morally wrong. He wouldn't do that.
That was when Caroline turned to him.
"Leave it with me." she winked, face now alight with a dark mischief he didn't like one bit.
"What are you going to do?" he narrowed his eyes, asking what he already knew.
She laughed and moved away from him, reaching the door before turning back.
"Thank the Colonel for always ensuring we are well stocked with drugs, even in his absence."
"No, you can't! Caro, fucking hell, Caro…"
But she was through the doors quicker than he could stop her. He heard her voice waft through the room.
"Jane darling, let me get you a cocktail…"
The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, The Next Day...
"We'll see, Rich," Darcy sighed. "I think we may still be on, but I don't know….."
"You sound worried," Richard replied.
"I am. What Caro did, it's not on, not right. This is lurching from disaster to disaster."
"Caro did what she had to do," Richard responded firmly. "We knew this was flaky from the off, Darcy. Look, if we have to walk away then we walk away, ok? Let it play out for a while longer, hang in there…"
"We've barely even started….." Darcy said, his tone seeped in worry.
"I know, it's not exactly running like clockwork. Do you want to walk away now?"
"No, it's no problem but I may need you in London next week is all…"
He heard the floorboard creek and spun around to see Lizzy Bennet, sleep still in her eyes, dressed in jeans and a tank top that left little to the imagination. God, was she trying to kill him? He hated how he was around her and how she made him react. The problem was that because he was playing this version of himself in this score it was easy to briefly forget what they were doing. The few times he'd found himself talking to her, he'd made slip-ups, words that could maybe raise suspicion. His instant defense of Caroline yesterday had been one such occurrence, it's what he would do normally so he did it, forgetting that it didn't fit with who they were portraying. It was a dangerous situation, one that he was struggling with.
And more importantly, just how much had she heard?
"Look, I'll speak to you later. Charlie is very keen to meet you."
The door closed behind them, leaving Caroline and Darcy alone for the first time since the incident. He looked at her with pure rage, every fiber of his body screaming out at her.
"Well, I think that went like a dream," Caroline smirked.
He knew when she was goading him.
He gave her a look of disdain before reaching for his cigarettes and making his way across the room, only to be stopped by Caroline's hand on his arm.
"Oh, come on, Will, don't be like that…"
"Like what, Caro!" he exploded, spinning around to face her quick as a flash, his anger no longer contained. "You want to be congratulated? Do you want me to say well done? Do you know how dangerous that little stunt of yours was?"
"A little drop of GHB in her drink won't harm her, Jesus…"
"There are things we don't do, Caroline! Lines we don't fucking cross! Dragging an innocent into this is bad enough, but to do that to the poor girl? Drug her, make her ill, humiliate her in front of people?"
Caroline looked at him for a moment and he knew what was coming next. He'd seen her angry enough times.
"I just saved this fucking score, William!" she shouted at him, flecks of spit showering his face. "I did what had to be done! None of us want to fucking be here you know, not even Richard, whatever he says to your face! We're doing all this for you! This is the weakest score we've ever planned, nothing is guaranteed, there are no fallbacks, nothing! Do you have any idea of the risks we are taking just so you can have your little revenge? I put our chances of pulling this off at 50/50 and that's not fucking good enough. But still, I'm here, risking my future for you. And how do you pay it back, Darcy eh? Having a breakdown over George Wickham? How do you and my brother pay back my loyalty? By both making fucking eyes at the Bennet sisters like hormonal teenagers? It's pathetic! So pull your shit together before I decide my loyalty to you only goes so far…"
She stormed out of the room, leaving Darcy momentarily stunned.
The worst thing was, he knew she was completely right.
Slough, England, A Few Days Later
He decided to take them all out of London, just for the day. They needed to talk, needed to discuss what they were doing and if they could continue. He was worried about Charlie, his behaviour had been off, he was becoming prone to long silences with troubled looks, or worse, he was smiling at nothing. Darcy had the suspicion that he was falling for Jane Bennet. He was also scared for himself and his uncharacteristic attraction to Lizzy Bennet. He couldn't explain it, to be honest she wasn't the most likable of human beings and definitely thought quite a lot of herself. But she had something about her that drew him in every time. The more he learned about her, the more intrigued he was.
He needed to address it.
They settled into the Slough conference room, Richard was already waiting.
"What's all this then, Will?" he asked, concern in his voice. "What's going on?"
"We're here because I'm growing concerned. I am the leader of this crew, this is my score, I have a responsibility to all of you. I fear that I may be unable to pull this off and keep you all safe. I'm worried that I've overreached this time."
"No," Charlie spoke up quickly. "It's going fine."
"I also have concerns about you, Charlie," Darcy looked him in the eye. "I've watched you play the honey trap countless times, but this is different. You're different. I want an honest answer now. Are you falling for Jane Bennet?"
Charlie's silence said more than words ever could.
"Oh, for fuck sake, Charles!" Caroline sighed.
"I can't help it!" Charlie stood up, beginning to pace. "From the first moment, it was just different. She's the sweetest, most beautiful person I've ever met…"
"It's not real, Charlie!" Richard said with steel. "You're playing a score! You've deliberately targeted her, deliberately started a relationship with her, you've done this not out of attraction but because the fucking plan required it!"
"I know," Charlie ran a hand through his fro. "I know all this, but I can't help it! She makes me want to just pack it all in…."
"Charlie…" Caroline warned.
"Look, if I could just tell her, we could bring her in on it…"
"Absolutely not!" Darcy shouted. "Richard's right. You're being a child! I thought we'd got over this, these pathetic crushes ruining our scores, but clearly not."
"And what about you, Darcy?" Caro sneered, leaping to the defense of her brother by attacking. "Staring at Lizzy Bennet constantly, letting things slip to her? Practice what you fucking preach!"
"I have no interest in Lizzy Bennet. Unlike some people, I have little problem separating fact from fiction."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie got angry.
"You know exactly what it means." Darcy sneered.
"I think I love her, ok?" Charlie shouted, stunning the room into silence.
Darcy was furious, throwing up his arms and collapsing back into his office chair. Charlie was chucking it all away for another stupid, romanticised ideal.
"Okaaaay," Richard drawled out. "Let's all just take a deep breath. In and out, come on, kids, do it with me. In and out, in and out, in and out."
"Oh, shut up, Colonel, for fuck sake." Caroline snapped.
Silence. Then Richard laughed. Then Caro joined in. Then Darcy. Then Charlie. Before long, they were clutching their sides, laughing harder than ever before. It was desperate, resigned, ridiculous laughter. It was just a tension release. They rarely argued, in all their years together, there had never really been cause to. Everyone's roles were set and everyone was nigh on perfect at their jobs. But Charlie, he'd always been the loose canon, probably because he was the most decent human being of the lot. He was too emotional, too much like a real person.
"What are we going to do then?" Caroline asked, and the tension reappeared.
"I'm sorry. I am," Charlie said. "But I really can't help it. I love her."
It was then Darcy knew he had to make a decision. Some may look at it simplistically, it was a choice between his friend and the score. Surely it should be a no-brainer. But it was more complicated than that. Firstly, Charlie had a history of this kind of thing, he was generous with his affections and who knew what he would feel a month down the line. Secondly, Darcy was unsure about Jane Bennet herself. She seemed like a nice girl, but it was obvious that starting a relationship with Charlie would be hugely beneficial to her. She was a short con player with few connections and if he was honest he wasn't convinced that she wasn't using his friend. She seemed to enjoy his company, but she was reserved, sometimes to the point of standoffishness. Did she really feel the same as Charlie? He didn't think so and he knew Caroline agreed with him. And thirdly, and most selfishly, this was his score, his opportunity to gain back what was his. Charlie wanted to ruin that by pulling this shit now?
He decided to delay.
The saving grace was that the Bennet's part in this was all but finished. Just one more night, the night of the poker game, and then they would leave them alone.
"Ok," he sighed. "We carry on for now. Charlie, you owe me that at least. Play this until the next stage, then we can discuss the future."
Charlie sighed, but nodded all the same.
"Thank you," Darcy said. "Look, once this is over maybe you can carry on with her. But you can't tell her, Charlie, you can't tell her what we've been up to. I won't put myself, Caro and Richard at risk like that. Remember how much we've all been through together. Don't throw it away for something that could turn out to be fleeting."
"It's different, Darcy…" Charlie began.
"I need your word, here and now that you won't tell her," Darcy interrupted. "Not until it's over. And I mean all over."
Charlie looked like he was going to argue, but a look at Caro appeared to change his mind.
"Ok. You have my word."
"Excellent," Darcy nodded. "Now go back to London, I'll be along shortly."
"Roger that. Coming, Caro?"
"I'll get a ride with Darcy." Caroline said, coldly.
"Caro…."
"Just go, Charlie!" she almost shouted. "I'm fucking pissed off at you, the last thing I need is to be in a confined space with your stupid mug."
Charlie walked out sheepishly, as well he might, leaving Darcy, Richard and Caro.
"What are we going to do about this?" Richard asked, watching from the window as Charlie's car pulled out of the car park.
Darcy sighed, decision made. It was perhaps the worst thing he'd ever done. He felt horrible for what he was about to suggest.
"We need to give him an out."
The beauty of this score in the planning stage was that it was all based on a certain level of truth. Darcy was retiring, Charlie and Caro were eventually going to set up their own crew. The plan had been for the siblings to stay in London a little while longer, maybe even set up that crew if they so wished. The lies could become the truth. Charlie and Caro had played most of their part, they would only be needed in the final stages, still a few months from now.
"He's our friend, Will." Richard stated uneasily.
"I'm doing this for him! Come on, how many times has he done this? He's always declaring himself in love. It's not real, it's the adrenaline, the fantasy, I don't know."
"She doesn't feel the same," Caro spoke up. "I know someone in love, and she's not."
"I agree." Darcy nodded.
"We need to get him away from her as soon as possible. Yes it may look suspicious, but he can't be around her any longer than necessary. If you two aren't there, he'll tell her, I'm sure of it. As soon as you go, he'll cave, I know my brother. If I can get him back home, I can talk some sense into him."
"But how can we do that? If you all just disappear straight away, it'll raise said suspicions." Richard pointed out.
"We could create a business emergency at that new development he bought last year I suppose, one that'll need him to go back North for a week at least." Caro suggested.
"It's not enough," Darcy sighed. "We need something else, we need to open his eyes, plant a seed of doubt about her. His loyalty to us will do the rest. And we need an out that convinces the rest of the world as well, including the Bennets…."
Darcy was struck with an idea. Not a very nice one.
"We've been playing off our fame this whole time, right?" he began slowly. "We could take it to the next level. Introduce outside forces…"
"These outside forces being?"
"The police," Darcy said, simply. "It's the perfect out. The police warn Charlie off, start asking questions of everyone, including the Bennet's, then we leave and say that it was getting too hot. Everyone will believe that considering our reputations. I can bring in some unknown grifters to play the part of the coppers…."
"You want to con Charlie into thinking the police are coming for him?"
"And that Jane Bennet is possibly working with them," Darcy shut his eyes, not wanting to see the expressions on his friends' faces, the looks of disgust. "They harass her a little, we get some photos that show her talking to them, and then when Charlie gets back to Manchester we hit him with it, plant those seeds of doubt. The photos, her indifference, materialistic gains. We save this score and we can save him from himself. Then, I'll set him up with a score too big to miss, far away from London. I heard that Welsh Pete needs a roper to sell the Sydney Opera House… "
Silence followed. He took it as acceptance.
The three of them were about to cross a line they couldn't come back from.
"Question is, who are you going to bring in at short notice?" Caroline frowned. "It has to be someone unknown, has to be someone off the radar….."
Darcy thought for a moment.
"I was hoping to save this until later. But I think it's time to get an edge."
"Who you thinking?" Richard asked.
"The Italian."
"Don't be ridiculous, Darcy!" Caroline scoffed. "The Italian? The man's a myth."
"I assure you, she is not."
Krakow, Poland, Four Years Ago. Pemberley, Edinburgh, Scotland, Two Years Ago.
Many in the game today claimed that William 'Picasso' Darcy was the greatest grifter of his generation. They said his record was unmatched, said he had a grift sense that put everyone else to shame, said he had a brain that could analyse as quickly as a computer, and a mind that could read people equally as fast. Simply put, he was a genius.
But Darcy was one of the few who knew there was someone out there who was better.
The Italian.
Few knew the name. Most of those who had heard it whispered wrote them off as a myth, a grifter ghost story if you will. The legend went that The Italian was a former mafia foot soldier who had grown tired of the violence of gangland Naples and conned the head of a notoriously violent family out of 10 million Euros. So began a spate of some of the most daring and unbelievable scams the world had ever seen. Affiliations with the Pink Panthers, Yakuza, Mexican Cartels, Delta Crime Syndicate, IRA, and even the Russian Mafia were all whispered about, and the list of scams he had pulled off with help from these groups were legendary. So legendary, that no-one actually believed them.
But it was all true apart from one glaring error.
The Italian was a woman.
Even Darcy didn't know exactly where she came from. Somewhere in Eastern Europe definitely, but beyond that he was clueless. What he did know was that she was trafficked into Italy as a fifteen year old to work as a prostitute for the Camorra family in Naples, soon becoming a favorite of the powerful men in the organisation. Passed around like a piece of meat, having all childhood innocence beaten and fucked out of her, she resolved on her eighteenth birthday to have her revenge. So, she took the head of the family for ten million in a score that defied logic. She worked the Wire. The Wire was an old scam that had been mythologized in the film, The Sting, but had no place in the communication age. It had been based around the delivery of racing results by telegram. The grifter would persuade the mark that they could delay this process, thus finding out the results of the races before they became known and allowing them to bet on a sure winner. Nowadays in a world of live streaming, it was of course impossible. What the Italian did was set up her own fake betting shop, delaying both internet and television feed by around one minute. Couple of convincers, then boom. Ten million, gone. By the time the marks had worked it out, she was gone, and the legend was born.
Darcy thought he had come to know her by accident, but he soon realised that she did nothing by accident. He'd heard the tales of course but he hadn't believed them. The Italian was just a myth. Until she wasn't. Until one day she sauntered up to him in a church of all places. Darcy had always liked churches. He wasn't a religious man by any means, didn't believe in some all seeing, all knowing higher power. Didn't understand how anyone who took even a passing interest in the news could. Bombs being dropped, countries swimming with refugees. No, the closest thing to Gods in this world were the 1%. But he liked the stillness and the quietness of a church. A temple of calm where one could sit and not be disturbed. When he was first starting out, first making a name for himself, about one year after he and his crew had been birthed, he found himself in a church in Krakow, Poland, around Christmas time. They were playing a score in the city, obviously. He was consumed with guilt that he would not be going home to see his sister for Christmas, disgusted with his selfishness, self hatred was boiling over. So he had come to punish himself somewhat, to have a place where he could really see himself for who he was, with no distractions, no justifications. That's when she had come for him.
"I've always hated Christmas."
Those were her first words to him as she sat down on the pew in front of him. Even the location she sat in was deliberate, most would sit behind so they could have the other at a disadvantage, but The Italian was different. She understood that the ultimate display of power was to prove that you really didn't care what was going to happen next.
"Excuse me?" he had said, annoyed that his angst was being interrupted.
"Christmas. I hate it. The falseness of hope. The belief that all will be better by the next one."
Darcy detected the accent, even though the English was perfect. Couldn't place the odd mix of British, Italian and God knows what else.
"Quite." he said, standing up, prepared to walk away from what could very well be a lunatic.
"Sit down, William." she had laughed. He had sat back down.
"You know my name," he kept his cool. "That means you're either a cop, a grifter, or someone I have wronged. If it's one of the first two then this conversation is over, if it's the third then please just get on with whatever it is you're going to do to me. I have never enjoyed the theatrics. So which is it?"
"None of them, strictly speaking." she had laughed again, turning to face him. His eye caught the snaking tattoo up her neck straight away, the piercing dark eyes that gave nothing away whatsoever. The sheer masterpiece that she was, the kind of woman that men would start wars over.
"I'm the grifter." she had finished.
Darcy didn't know what to make of her. After that initial meeting where little more was said, she began to pop up in his life infrequently over the next couple of years, always with that enigmatic smile, always asking what he had been up to, although it was clear she already knew the answers. Darcy had enjoyed it in a way. Firstly, it was exciting. Secondly, it was nice to have something all to himself, a secret rendezvous that no-one else knew about. Thirdly, and most importantly of all, it was thrilling to have someone in his life who he couldn't read in an instant. But then it started to get frustrating. He started to panic, realising that this woman could be anyone. Finally, two years ago, he had snapped and exploded at her when she had turned up in the gardens of Pemberley.
"Who the fuck are you?" he had shouted.
She had smirked, leant forward and brushed her lips against his.
"I'm The Italian."
It had all made sense. She had told him some of it, who she was, the scores she had pulled off, why she had started. She refused to tell him why she had sought him out though, why she had taken an interest in him. Regardless, they had ended up in bed together.
Darcy had not seen her since that night, when he'd woke up the next morning, she had gone. But somehow, he knew she would come if he asked. He knew it. And she did.
Slough, England.
"How far you have come, William." The Italian purred as she entered the conference room, full of the usual mystery and self confidence. Her hair was longer than he remembered it being, her face a little more tired, but she was still the embodiment of perfection.
"What, Slough?" he joked, causing her to laugh that melodic sound. Richard and Caroline looked confused. It wasn't often he made jokes.
"I must admit, I expected our next meeting to be a little more glamorous. But no, I mean you. I hear they call you 'Picasso' now…."
"I'd rather they didn't." Darcy rubbed his neck in embarrassment.
"Oh, nonsense. Don't tell me a little part of you isn't just thrilled by it." she whispered.
"Richard, Caroline, let me introduce you to the greatest living con artist. The Italian." Darcy ignored her.
"A pleasure."
"A real honour."
The Italian waved away their effusions.
Darcy smirked at the looks of shock on Richard and Caro's faces as they were introduced to what they had thought to be a myth. This was why The Italian was so good, you see. Whereas Darcy, despite his best efforts, had achieved fame and notoriety, she had managed to convince the world she didn't exist. Fame and notoriety she had, yes, but no-one thought she was actually real. That, along with her uncommon skill, was what made her the best at what she did. She existed in a plain beyond mere mortals. No one, not even Darcy, and he had the feeling he may well be the closest in the world to her, knew her actual name.
The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world they didn't exist.
"I have taken this meeting out of curiosity," The Italian addressed Richard and Caroline. "William I know, you two I don't. So here are the rules. You do not tell a soul you have ever seen me, you do not even hint at any form of association. If I hear you have been talking out of turn, and be sure I will hear, bragging about how you have met me, you will be dead within the week. Do you understand?"
Richard and Caro nodded mutely, The Italian could be a scary figure. And if the stories were true, she was connected to some of the most brutal and downright evil organisations the world had ever seen.
"Excellent. Well then, the pleasure is all mine. So, William, what exactly is it that has you calling me up? It must be big, no? Must be the biggest score of your life I would guess. Or perhaps you're in trouble and need a way out?"
"To be honest, it's both." Darcy admitted, holding eye contact. He wasn't ashamed of asking for help.
"You're going after Lady Catherine De Bourgh, and your roper has fallen in love with his mark, that about right?"
Richard and Caroline looked stunned, but Darcy had stopped being surprised by the woman's knowledge. Every whisper got back to her somehow, she had always known exactly what was going on in his life, he hadn't expected this to be any different.
"That about sums it up." he shrugged.
"What's your plan then?"
Darcy went through the whole thing, stage by stage, with occasional interruptions by Richard and Caro. The Italian gave nothing away as he explained the intricacies of the score, right down to its final moments.
"It's a good plan," she nodded when they had finished. "A little risky, but hey, everything that's worthwhile always is. But you have a problem. Remarkably careless of you, William, to keep working with a roper who has form for ruining scores in this way."
"That's my brother you're talking about!" Caroline snarled.
"When I want your opinion I will ask for it."
"Fucking….."
"Enough, Caro," Darcy sighed, before redirecting his attention to The Italian. "Look, Charlie Bingley is one of the best grifters I have ever worked with, he was born to do this. He's slipped up and now I have to put him back on course. That's what's happened, so I have to deal with it."
"And how are you going to do that? And where do I fit in?"
Darcy told her what he wanted her to do. Explained that although this was elementary stuff for her, way below her pay scale, he needed someone who was the best, someone who's face wasn't known by anyone. Someone who could pull off pretending to be a copper with absolute natural ease.
She agreed to it.
"You owe me for this, William," she warned as she was rising to leave. "I'll use Ray as backup on this one…."
"Ray?" Darcy narrowed his eyes.
"Jealous?"
"Absolutely not. I can't have just anyone in on this…"
"You think I would work with anyone who wasn't 100% trustworthy and the best?" she scorned.
"Ok, fine." Darcy sighed.
"I'll see you on the other side then." The Italian made for the door.
"Wait!" Darcy stopped her. "There is one more thing…"
The Netherfield, Canary Wharf, London, England, Five Months Ago...
Charlie waited by the door, greeting his guests with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He loved her. He loved Jane Bennet. He knew it was true. But it couldn't be that simple. He owed Richard, Caro, he owed Darcy everything. This had been their crew, something they'd built together, and he was failing his friend at the last. The friend who'd taught him more about grifting than he ever thought was possible and had made him what he was today. The conflict was killing him. He didn't know if he could hold it together anymore. One more night, he kept repeating, one more night, then he could escape to Manchester for a week, get his head straight. This business with his project up North couldn't have come at a better time for him. It would be difficult to be away from Jane, but it would just be for a week. He could plan what he was going to say to her. When he returned, he was resolved to tell her everything. Hopefully she could forgive him. Hopefully she could keep it quiet as well, for Darcy's sake. He was putting love before his friends. It felt horrible and beautiful at the same time.
This thing with the police was nagging at him a little, but not too much. Darcy and the rest had reacted with more concern than he thought was warranted, but he knew they were just looking out for him. In the end, he had always thought something like this might happen, word may spread to the wrong people about his intentions in the city. But the MET was understaffed, underfunded, unequipped, to pose any serious threat. This was not Interpol. It would be fine, it was just a desperate warning shot that he saw right through.
Now, he needed focus. He needed to be at 100%. But how could he be when she looked like that, he asked himself as Jane Bennet appeared with her family. He forgot for a glorious moment who he was, why he was here, what he was supposed to do. But then Darcy's face came into his head. He owed him this, owed him this last night.
"Bennet's! Lovely to see you all tonight!" he enthused, his eyes still on Jane. "And Mr Collins as well!"
Charlie made sure to stick out his right hand, so Billy would have to shake it with his handcuffed one. As they shook hands, Charlie put his left hand on top to form a two handed handshake. All the while, his right hand searched underneath the cold steel of the handcuffs for the pressure point, pressing down on it gently but firmly. Billy wouldn't feel a thing, at least not for a few minutes….
"Ok, good we're all here!" Charlie grinned at the occupants of the room. "Now remember everyone, this is a friendly game. No fighting, yes, I'm looking at you Cassie! Is everyone ready? Billy, you ok?"
"Yes, yes," he sweated, holding onto his hand, clearly in discomfort. "It's just this briefcase giving the wrist a bit of grief."
It had worked, Charlie smiled inwardly. The human body was a truly remarkable thing. The right force on the right area and you could manipulate pain itself.
"Well, old boy, give it here and I'll have it locked in the safe for you. You can't go playing poker with that thing hanging from the table! Your wrist will snap after three hands!"
"Oh no, I never let it out of my sight see," Billy shook his head, seriously, exactly what they had expected him to say. It was never going to be that easy. "Important business on there for mine and Lady Catherine De Bourgh's eyes only. Can't have anyone poking around it."
"How about you cuff it to the chair then?" Darcy remarked. It was said with just the right amount of boredom, casualness and annoyance to register properly and not arouse any suspicion.
"Splendid idea, Darcy!" Charlie said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically he thought self-critically seconds after he said it. However, it seemed to go unnoticed.
"I suppose it could work," Billy agreed, inspecting the chair. "I'll lock it onto this middle bit here then…."
"Darcy, give the bloke a hand would you?" Charlie admonished his friend, putting the plan into action.
Darcy helped unlock the handcuffs, and crouched down, hidden from the sight of most. He was careful to act bored and nonchalant, nodding along to Billy's effusions. Collins was so lost in his own droning voice that he wasn't really paying attention to what Darcy was doing. What Billy didn't know was that this chair had been designed to a very specific spec and he had been sat in it purposefully. The middle bit of the chair that connected the two legs looked like any other sturdy bit of oak, but if you pressed it just below on the left side, the middle part collapsed in two like a drawbridge, slowly and subtly. They had had to make sure it was one of them who cuffed the case, unlikely as it was, Billy might accidentally trip the switch if he was down there. Darcy stood up, finished, phase one complete….
Collins was going to fuck this right up, Darcy groaned inwardly. They had expected the man to be pretty poor at poker, but they hadn't expected him to be this dire. He was going to go out before Caroline did her stuff. That couldn't be allowed to happen. Darcy attempted for a few minutes to maneuver them into a position where he or Charlie could allow Billy a big win, thus prolonging his stay at the table until they were finished. After about ten minutes, the opportunity presented itself. Collins pushed and Darcy went with him till the last, folding as the pot was at its biggest. He saw Elizabeth and the Lucas girl share a look, he knew it was a little suspicious, but he was pretty sure he'd gotten away with it.
Finally, Caroline appeared.
Caroline was waiting a few floors down in an empty suite as the party got going. Richard was sitting at the desk, his toys laid out in front of him, ready for the go. Louisa was lying on the bed, eyes closed. All around them were shopping bags, teaming with expensive items. It was all superfluous, only two of the bags held any real meaning. In a nondescript yellow plastic bag, a black briefcase was hidden, an exact replica of Billy's' complete with handcuffs. In another red one, there was nothing. A whole score, five months worth of planning, relied on two flimsy bits of plastic.
"It's time." Richard said.
Caroline stood up and began to laden herself with bags, making sure the yellow one was well hidden in the middle.
"Wish me luck."
She struggled to the lift, pressing the button for the penthouse. Took a deep breath and composed herself. This was going to be easy, she reassured. A simple switch, a simple drop, one that any short con player worth their salt could do in his sleep. That was the beauty of Darcy's plans. Even at their most elaborate, they were rooted in such simplicity. She heard the lift ping and she stepped out into the party.
Greeted a few people, but made her way quickly to the side room where the poker game was taking place. She steeled herself one last time and crashed through the door.
"Charlie, I'm so sorry I'm late!" she breathed out dramatically. "Me and Louisa lost track of time. Where is the bloody service in here as well? I had to carry these bags up all by myself and Louisa's having to park the car! Can you believe that!"
As she was pulling this little performance, she moved casually but carefully between Darcy and Collins. She'd already spied as she walked in that Darcy had made sure Billy's briefcase was in the perfect place for her. Dropped the bags on the floor, seemingly randomly, but in reality it had been practiced a thousand times. The yellow bag containing the fake case dropped right next to the real one on Billy's side, obscuring it from his view. The red one dropped perfectly on the other side.
"The staff are attending to the party, Caro," Charlie said. "You know, the one you insisted on having, organised, and then promptly forgot to show up to."
"Well, I'm here now. Darcy, be a darling and help me with these will you? I won't get through all the people on my own."
"We're in the middle of a game, Caro!" Hurst pretended to admonish, Caroline inwardly smirking at the fake slur in his voice. He played a drunk remarkably well. "Breaks not due for another half hour."
"It's fine, deal me out of the next hand," Darcy waved him off, throwing in his blind and bending down.
Caroline crouched down also, under the pretence of helping, releasing the false bottom from the yellow bag, causing the fake briefcase to stay on the floor as the bag was lifted up. At the same time, Darcy had pressed the button on the chair, allowing him to slide the cuffs off the oak, tuck them into the case handle, and replace them with the dummy ones. Quick as a flash, pretending to struggle for appearances, Caroline covered the real case with the red, doctored bag, making sure to hold on tightly to it at the top, pinching the case in place.
They did this in less than four seconds.
They walked out the room, in possession of the keys to Rosings Park.
They moved clinically as they entered the room a few floors down, had been careful to exit the penthouse from the hidden fire escape so no-one would see them. Not a word was said as the briefcase was placed in front of Richard, who opened it up quickly and took out the laptop. He got to work as Darcy exited back to the game and Caroline went to clean herself up for the rest of the party. Richard tapped away and away, he didn't even let out a hint of triumph when he was in. He just got on with it, copying all files to an external hard drive and then onto a hidden cloud in the depths of the internet. It took him ten minutes.
"You ready, Louisa?"
Louisa nodded, performing the same ritual as Caroline, weighing herself down with bags. Richard placed the laptop carefully back into the case and placed it into the same bag it had come to him in, handing it off to Louisa.
On it went.
"Took me a bloody age to park the car," Louisa said, as she entered the poker room. "Sorry to interrupt but I need the safe key from my husband here."
Hurst grunted, and purposefully threw his key across the table. As anyone would, Louisa dropped the bags in anticipation of the catch, but again this had been done a thousand times. The bags fell back into place. Darcy crouched down to help, this time releasing the fake cuffs from the chair replacing them with the originals, as Louisa released the false bottom and the case was returned to its original position. Did the same as Caroline, picking up the dummy case and leaving no trace that anything had happened.
Richard was leaning back on his chair, when his phone began to ring, anonymous number, but he knew it was Darcy. Two rings, then cut. The signal.
He allowed himself one small smile.
There was still a long way to go, but they were done with London.
Mind you, all that for a fucking laptop.
