Art Heist

On the whole, the world was full of pitfalls where a fragile young lady could come to grief. Her high heels could be trapped in the elevator door, they might break, even result in a twisted ankle. The shoulder strap of her dress might become detached, obliging her to secure her dress with one hand to preserve her modesty. Of course, any help offered in such a desperate situation would be received gratefully, rewarded with warm smiles, and open the door for an approach.

There was also a whole range of accidents involving drinks being spilt on a lady's attire. In some cases the villain would try to rub the affected area, become suddenly aware that this was quite an improper thing to do to a complete stranger of the opposite sex, but find that his attempts were not rebuked. In other cases the damage would be such that it required a change of dress, or in some desperate situation, removing the piece of clothing and waiting until it had been washed and dried. There were plenty of opportunities for letting an interested man get a little closer.

Mirella would later use this technique to great effect. She had been sent to the bar of a luxury hotel, where senior executives of a media giant had rented meeting facilities for discussions with their bankers. Mirella's assignment was to collect information about the purpose and, if possible, the outcome of these discussions.

The group had taken a break in the bar and were about to resume their meeting; the man who had been identified as the one to make contact with had gone to the bar to get himself another drink before returning to the conference room. Mirella's timing was perfect. She got up and walked past the bar, reaching her victim exactly as he swung around, a Bloody Mary in his hand. Her beautiful white dress didn't stand a chance.

Unbiased observers of the scene - if there had been any - might have said that she walked straight into the man, either because she had her head in the clouds or maybe even intentionally.

The man, normally a soft-spoken, well-mannered executive, was ready to scold that stupid woman and tell her to look where she was going. But before opening his mouth he looked at her. No, not at her face, he looked at her upper body, where the soaking wet fabric was clinging to her skin, molding perfectly the shape of her breasts, including her nipples, which had hardened from the effect of the ice cold liquid. Most people would describe a white dress, stained by half a pint of tomato juice as 'not a pretty sight'. But this *was* a pretty sight, although 'pretty' could be considered an understatement.

It's remarkable how images like this can affect the male brain. The man, who seconds ago had been ready to give that woman a bawl-out, heard himself say, "Oh my God, what have I done! I'm terribly sorry!"

Mirella, or more precisely, the character played by Mirella, was in a state of shock. "Look what you've done to my dress," she shrieked.

The man who later introduced himself as Ted (but Mirella knew that already) apologized again, asked Mirella to stay calm and offered to pay the laundry bill - or a new dress if this one was ruined. Mirella, clearly making an effort to remain calm, explained that the situation wasn't that simple. She was on her way to meet an old friend for dinner and couldn't possibly show up like this. No, she wasn't staying at the hotel and wasn't in the habit of carrying a spare dress with her whenever she went out, neither was she prepared to travel across town to her home like this to change into a new dress.

Whenever Mirella said 'like this' she pointed at her upper body and gave Ted another excuse to look at her juice-soaked tits. Ted asked if he could send someone to fetch another dress for her and Mirella answered that she could ask her maid to bring one to her, but that would take some time and where would she stay? She surely didn't want to make an exhibition of herself like this. He offered her the use of his suite on the top floor of the hotel and she accepted.

Ted accompanied her to his suite, where she made two phone calls. One to cancel her dinner date and another one to her maid, instructing her which dress to bring, and also to include a matching pair of shoes. Ted, seeing that everything was under control, excused himself, saying that he had to rejoin the meeting he had been attending before the unfortunate accident happened. He also told her to wait for him in his suite because he insisted on taking her out for dinner tonight, as he had been the reason for her having to cancel her date.

Mirella couldn't believe her luck when he gathered together a number of documents which had been lying around and locked them in his safe. After he had left, Mirella took off her clothes and had a shower. Then she waited for the arrival of her maid, just wearing her lacy panties.

It turned out that it was Agent Ann who had been assigned as her maid and Mirella regretted immediately having put on her panties. Nevertheless, she hoped that Agent Ann might be interested in giving her pussy another treat.

But Agent Ann was business-like as always and today the business wasn't 'inducing orgasm', it was filming every scrap of paper she could find in Ted's room. It seemed that she didn't even notice Mirella's near-nakedness. But she couldn't help being impressed when Mirella opened the safe for her. After Agent Ann had left, Mirella got dressed and wrote a short note for Ted saying that she couldn't stay for dinner as she had heard from the maid that her husband would return earlier than planned.

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On her first few assignments Mirella managed to obtain the required information without exchanging any intimacies. The problem was terminating the conversation without the informant suspecting that she had her own hidden agenda. Unexpectedly her mobile phone would ring and a close friend would inform her that her jealous husband was returning earlier than expected from his business trip, that he was already in the arrivals hall at the airport and that she'd better get her ass home before he'd get there. Or it was a desperate babysitter who had reached the end of her tether because the baby she was supposed to look after refused to stop crying.

Of course, Mirella didn't have any husband, jealous or otherwise, nor did she have any baby to look after. What she had was a little device fitted into her bracelet which, upon actioning, placed a call to her own mobile phone. All she had to do was to fake the surprise and panic caused by the critical situation, apologize that she couldn't stay any longer and depart, giving the informant a little kiss on the cheek and expressing the hope that there would be an opportunity 'to pick up where we stopped'.

The assignments where the information couldn't be transmitted verbally but was contained in lengthy and detailed documents were more difficult to handle. Sometimes she needed the assistance of another Agent who searched the office or apartment of the informant while she made sure he didn't unexpectedly turn up there. But she took great pride in being able to finish even the more difficult jobs on her own.

Mirella's basic formula for success was really quite simple: she dared the informants to do what she wanted them to do by implying that they probably didn't have the guts to break the rules, ignore conventions, etc. Not in these words, of course. When the victim, unable to ignore her presence, exchanged a few words with her, no matter how innocently, she would give to understand that it was probably to his disadvantage if anyone saw him talking to her, after all, a young woman talking to a wealthy man like him could only be a gold-digger or a prostitute, therefore she thought it best to terminate the little chat before it caused any damage to his reputation.

This would usually cause her victim to do exactly the opposite of what she had suggested. The man would make a point of continuing the conversation, invite her to join him at his table or do whatever he could think of to prove that he was not concerned about being seen in her company. Later, when he had told her that he held a senior position in such and such an organization or corporation, she would hint that he probably wasn't one of the key decision makers, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting in the hotel bar, chatting to a woman he'd never met before. This prompted the fool to state that he was indeed one of the decision makers, in fact the reason for his presence in this hotel was that he had just completed the negotiations for the takeover of XYZ, one of their rival companies. He guessed that she probably didn't read the financial press, but if she did, she would be able to read about it in a few week's time. Mirella was quick to confirm that she really didn't understand much about these things and apologized for having underestimated his importance.

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There was the case of the research manager of a pharmaceutical giant, let's call him Jerry. His company was about to launch a new skin cream to fight wrinkles, a product which combined the benefits of Botox with the advantage of not having any side effects. Mirella mentioned to Jerry that she had always been curious about what a specification for products like a skin cream looked like and that she was dying to see one, even if it was an old, out-of-date one, but said she'd understand if he didn't want to go to the trouble of showing her one of these specifications.

Jerry said immediately that, of course, he could show her one, and to prove how much he trusted her, he would take her to his office right now to let her have a look at the formula for the product about to be launched. Mirella noticed how he slipped the night watchman a bill and said there was no need to record his brief visit in the log.

In his office, Jerry opened the safe to get the promised document. Mirella pretended not to pay any attention to his fiddling with the lock but registered every move, every click. When Jerry showed her the document, Mirella looked at it superficially and then said, a little sheepishly, that there were so many words she didn't even know how to pronounce and that all the formulae made her head spin. She had never thought a simple skin cream could be such a complicated affair. As reward for disregarding company rules so bravely, Mirella invited Jerry to her apartment for a drink and 'who knows what else'.

After having his drink Jerry wanted to move on to the 'who knows what else' part of the evening. He embraced and kissed Mirella and tried to undress her, but Mirella told him to cool down. She lead him into her bedroom and told him to make himself comfortable. Then she disappeared into the bathroom 'to freshen up a little'.

When Mirella returned from the bathroom Jerry had quite inexplicably fallen asleep. Mirella checked the soundness of his sleep, got his keys from his jacket and returned to Jerry's office - in his car. She told the night watchman who, of course, remembered her, that she forgot something in Jerry's office and added "When a woman loses her heart, she also loses her head".

She slipped him another bill and told him there was no need to accompany her, she could find the office on her own. When she got to the office she opened the safe, filmed every single page of the document Jerry had shown her and then put everything back the way she had found it. Then she left, apologizing to the night watchman for the disturbance.

When she got back to her apartment, Jerry was still asleep. She undressed and slipped into the bed beside him, waiting for him to wake up. When Jerry started to stir, she pretended to be asleep and let him wake her. He wanted to know hat happened.

"Don't you remember?" she answered with surprise in her voice. "You were so wild, so insatiable, it was wonderful. No wonder you fell asleep soon afterwards."

Jerry, frustrated that he didn't remember anything, wanted some more. Mirella told him she was exhausted and needed her beauty sleep. He wanted to grab her beautiful breasts but she told him he'd already ravaged them during their love bout. Allowing him to place two gentle kisses on her nipples and promising another meeting in the near future, she let him out of her apartment.

When Jerry returned a few days later to the same place, a Baptist preacher answered the door. He had never heard of anyone called Mirella and found it quite improbable when Jerry told him about his experience in the apartment. This was when Jerry started to become suspicious about Mirella's real intentions. His suspicions were confirmed a little later when a competitor launched a skin cream identical to his own company's product, but he considered it wise not to tell anyone about his transgressions that fateful night.

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Harry S. Fenton was an art collector who was considered a bit of an odd-ball by the art dealers. He didn't buy works of art because of the name of the artist or the style, he bought them because of the motif they represented - he collected exclusively paintings and sculptures of an erotic nature, from simple nudes to detailed depictions of copulation and other forms of sex. His collection was estimated to contain around 5000 works of art, reaching from old Japanese and Chinese drawings to contemporary artists. It was not intended for public viewing.

Harry kept his collection in his mansion in southern California, near the Big Sur, where he owned a large piece of land on the coast. His mansion was set on a promontory above the cliffs, where one could watch the waves crash against the rocks. A small army of security staff protected his property against invaders from land, air and sea. It was a setting which Mirella might have described as a classic James Bond scenario.

What puzzled many people was how he could afford such a mansion and such an extensive art collection. He wasn't from a wealthy family; he had not inherited a fortune from his ancestors like some other well know art collectors, and he didn't have any identifiable source of income. On the rare occasions he went on record about his financial situation, he declared that he had made a small fortune with stock market and currency speculations. There were rumors which linked his wealth to connections with Colombian drug barons, but nothing of the sort was ever proven.

This somewhat dubious background combined with the subject of the works he collected earned him the nickname 'Dirty Harry'. But the art business, like most other businesses, is prepared to turn a blind eye to the character flaws of regular customers. And Harry was a prolific buyer. He usually agreed to buy works of art which were offered to him if they fitted into his collection. He never paid the asking price, but a sale is a sale and a reduced profit is still a profit. What caused a certain unease between the community of art dealers and Harry was the mystery surrounding 59 erotic drawings by Polichinelo.

The work of Polichinelo, the well-known landscape painter, like that of so many great artists, was only fully appreciated after his death. While he was alive he often suffered hardship. More than once was he evicted from his rented accommodation because he was several months behind with his payments. On these occasions he relied on the support of a, fortunately large, number of friends and admirers who gave him shelter and paid his debts so that he could return to his studio and continue his work. One of these benefactors had recently died and when his relatives went through the piles of useless junk he had accumulated over the years, they found a sketch by Polichinelo, depicting a threesome in an unmistakable pose, along with a letter by the artist in which he thanked his friend for his support during so many years and asked him to accept the enclosed drawing as a token of his gratitude.

The find caused an enormous stir in the art world, for two reasons: One, Polichinelo was not known to have produced any works of an erotic nature. But the letter and the signature on the sketch did not leave any doubt concerning the authenticity of this work. Two: On the back of the sketch was a marking '15/60' which most experts interpreted as meaning work number 15 out of a series of 60. The art world came to the conclusion that Polichinelo had produced a series of 60 erotic drawings and had given them, as a token of his gratitude, to those who had helped him in bad times.

Hoards of well-spoken men in dark suits descended on the unsuspecting friends and relatives of Polichinelo in order to find the other 59 drawings. The art world went through its own little gold rush. But the quest for the missing Polichinelos stopped as suddenly as it had started when a number of influential art critics published articles in which they declared that the idea of 60 drawings was probably the result of a misinterpretation of the artist's annotation. It didn't seem likely that someone like Polichinelo would have produced 60 works of art and have kept them secret beyond his death.

Officially, the hunt was off, but there were voices which linked Dirty Harry to the sudden change of mood. The story was that he had bought not only the drawings but also the art critics to get them to write the already mentioned articles. The family who had discovered the first drawing, which became known as 'The Threesome', decided not to sell it and locked it away in a high-security bank vault.

All this was unknown to Mirella when Jim Jr. informed her that her next target would be Dirty Harry. She immediately thought of Clint Eastwood and didn't quite know how he could be an informant.

Jim Jr. gave her all the background to the assignment and, although that wasn't strictly necessary, showed her a copy of 'The Threesome'. Mirella looked at it and couldn't quite understand what was erotic about this bunch of black lines and squiggles on a white background.

Jim Jr. had to show her that those 'squiggles' really represented three people. The first, most likely a woman, was lying on her back with her legs spread apart; the second, also a woman, was eating the first woman's pussy while being fucked in the ass by the third figure, a man. Mirella was amazed that anybody could see so much detail in such a mess of lines, particularly, how could anyone tell that the second woman wasn't having her cunt fucked. She also thought about the fact that she had never in her life eaten a cunt, nor been butt-fucked. Was she missing something?

The assignment wasn't as clear-cut as her previous jobs. There wasn't a single fact to find out and report, nor a document to locate and film. She had to find out whether Dirty Harry had in fact acquired the 59 drawings, and where they were kept. In addition, if only half of the stories which circulated about Dirty Harry were true, then he would be an extremely difficult customer to snare.

The plan to attract Harry was that Mirella would open a new art gallery in Manhattan. The first exhibition would be dedicated to Polichinelo and would feature reproductions of some of his works and the original of 'The Threesome'. The owners had, reluctantly, agreed to let them use it. There was no doubt that Harry would be attracted to that drawing like a bee to honey and it was up to Mirella to turn that interest in the picture into an interest in her, and then use the situation in the best possible way. This probably wasn't a case of meet once and dump. There would have to be several encounters to gain his trust, maybe she could even achieve an invitation to his mansion.

Of course, there was no guarantee that Harry himself would come to see the exhibition. He might just send in the heavy mob and have the picture stolen. But this wasn't just about possession of a picture, it was about showing who is smarter and Jim Jr. thought he could, with the help of Mirella's charms, provoke Harry into making a silly mistake.