The Fantastic Hotel Pt. 02

"Are we like Bonnie and Clyde?" she asked, "forever on the lam?"

"Your pistol is rather too small for that. I think they favoured a gatling gun of the portable kind, and a large American car. Besides, we shall get away, I'm sure of it." The mantis, if something of a hardy fool, was if nothing else, confident.

"But look, this dial is marked B1 and B2; that surely must designate basements. We shall go deepest down, and escape through the sewers."

The elevator continued to descend. It did so rather slowly, and the mantis had time to trim back his nails and tidy his cuticles; the beetle had time to primp her hair and attend to her bright red lips. She smoothed her tight dress down, remembering where he'd dishevelled her, thinking, 'we must do that again, I rather like a dishevel.'

The mantis grinned, for he had a circular mark the same shade as her lips on his penis, to show how deep her throat had been.

The beetle smiled. The next time she'd turn as she did it, to leave him with a nicely spiralled pole, like an enticement into a barber's shop.

Finally, with a clunk and a squeal and a groan, the cabin reached its lowest destination, bounced twice, and stopped. They both pitched their ears and antennae forward for their most sensitive hearing. The basement seemed totally deserted but for the drip of a far distant tap.

Suddenly the lift jerked. "Quickly," the beetle whispered, "we must run from this place. I fear our pursuers will chase us."

"Over there," the mantis pointed towards a steel door. "Surely that's a way out."

They tip-toed rapidly to it, the beetle's short legs a futurist's blur, the mantis more like Marcel Duchamp descending a long set of stairs.

The door opened outwards, and they stepped through it. They emerged onto a walkway made from fractured steel, a grid all rusty and perilous. It looked thick enough to support their weight, if they could trust it. The mantis went first, his mind on survival; and besides, the beetle had wings and could fly high above if needs be.

She remained earthbound however, her hand in his, and they made their way along the tunnel. Below them slimy water churned and heaved, its surface an unpleasant colour.

"I can't take too much more of this stench," said the beetle, starting to cough.

"We'll go the equivalent of three blocks, and hope we emerge undiscovered. Keep going another five minutes, and we'll look out for a ladder." The mantis looked down the gloom of the tunnel.

They trudged on. They were escaping from certain peril, but it certainly didn't feel like Steve McQueen on a green motor bike, jumping fences and ditches. It was done rather sedately, their escape.

The mantis looked at his watch, stolen no doubt from a fine emporium of watches, tick tocking softly when they were all wound up. Beside him, the beetle's high heels tick tocked too, but much louder. They kept on until -

"Look, Miss Nicely, a ladder with a manhole at the top. Surely we're a good distance from the hotel, and it will be safe to return to the street."

"Let's hope so," the beetle replied. "I'm getting tired from all this walking, and could do with a rest in a small café, sipping tea."

"I agree." The mantis nodded. "I'll go first, so I'm the one to lose my head if we surface in the middle of a boulevard."

"I've heard of that happening, but usually there's a lady mantis involved, and it's all rather terminal. Pleasurable at first, then far less satisfactory."

The mantis shuddered. "I'd rather you didn't remind me of those lady mantis habits. It's rather disconcerting, to think of it."

"I do beg your pardon," the beetle replied. "I assure you, I won't do it. It's one thing to lose one's head metaphorically in the height of ecstasy, but to do so in truth during coitus? That doesn't sound right to me."

"I'm glad you should say that," said the mantis. "I'll not argue, not at all."

The mantis ascended the ladder, and the beetle followed, looking up. His taut bottom in tight trousers was pleasing, and she found herself scenting, a faint fine whiff of pheromones rising up. It was no wonder flowers developed their evolutionary wonders, to attract and encourage such delights.

The beetle would wait until they were safe inside Mrs Butlin's Cake Emporium, then ask for a curtained booth. All this activity, on top of the thievery, was making her quite excited.

Above her, the mantis stopped climbing the ladder, and very cautiously lifted the manhole cover an inch or two. He tilted his head to observe from under it, rotating his head in a full circle.

"I think we're safe to emerge," he said. "The cover appears to exit beside a footpath, not the middle of a road. Even so, we'll take care and be quick. Arriving from a subterranean tunnel would be most unusual, and I'd rather not start a gossip."

He slid the cover across and climbed up through the hole to find himself under a darkened sky. He reached back down to take Miss Nicely's hand, being careful not to drop her. She emerged, and between them they put back the cover to the catacombs.

"Which way shall we go?" the beetle asked. She was feeling disoriented from the long ascent, not knowing up from down and quite confused, left from right.

"There," said the mantis, pointing towards a tea-house on the other side of the road. "That looks just the ticket."

They made their way to it, to be greeted by a glamorous Pomeranian poodle with quite a curlicue curl on her forehead.

"Have you heard the news?" the poodle asked. "They say there's been an audacious robbery down at The Fantastic Hotel. Twelve dangerous thieves, they say, running and a plundering, and stealing it all away."

The mantis quietly hid the bags of loot under the table.

"Goodness me," said the beetle. "Was anybody hurt?"

"Not from what I hear," the poodle replied. "But the most fantastic jewels, they're gone, all gone, all been stolen away."

"My word," exclaimed the beetle. "What tremendous audacity. Can you imagine!"

"I can't," the poodle replied, "not really. Would they hide behind masks, do you think, or is that too obvious?"

With a cough and a splutter to make a diversion, the mantis gestured to Miss Nicely to rapidly change the subject, before she accidentally revealed their involvement.

"Let's order tea," he suggested. "We can watch the shenanigans on a kinetovideoscope. I'm sure the lady has one."

"I do," the poodle replied, "out back. It's in my comfortable lounge. I'll see you there, with tea and cake."

"Do you have ginger cake?" the beetle asked. "I'm quite partial to that. And a curtained booth?" She reminded herself of her earlier contemplation, and was keen to progress the idea of it.

The mantis thought perhaps she was tired, eager to lay her head down for a while. She was eager, but not how he first imagined - and later, after they'd partaken of tea.

The beetle, being a lady, knew the coded words one uttered to a proprietor of a shop such as this, that would permit an assignation with a gentleman, but with the highest regard for discretion. She did indeed enjoy a slice of ginger cake, and would make sure the mantis ate two, to leave a delicate taste when she swallowed.

The poodle, Mrs Butlin, was pleased. She cooked three ginger cakes every morning and had regular bookings for several curtained booths. The beetle and her coded desires were well understood.

In the booth, the beetle engaged with the thief. Their camaraderie was most abundantly evident now; the mantis less afraid of her pistol, the beetle less afraid of his... well, she had a well oiled holster, and she put it to good use, her booted heels kicking gleefully on the carpet.

Out in the kitchen Mrs Butlin smiled. It was always desirable to have well pleased customers. It usually meant double orders, and if she was lucky, an excellent tip. On this occasion, two tenners; so she thought they must be celebrating. It never occurred to her that they might be the thieves and her café a temporary den, full to the brim with stolen goods.

It was nearly midnight when the mantis and beetle departed, to find their way to Madame the Cat. They called for a taxi, and ordered the driver to go down to the end of the boulevard, to drive over the river and turn west. On the bridge, they hid their faces from a convoy of constabulary cars passing on the other side of the street.

"Goodness me," the beetle remarked, "look at all the excitement."

The mantis grinned as the taxi proceeded quietly on its way. He was imagining the Wanted posters to add to his collection, and wondered how much they'd get right.

"Stop here, my good man. I think we've arrived." The beetle had the Cat's address in little black book, which she kept in a small pouch just inside a dress pocket.

The taxi pulled up with a sigh from its finely tuned engine, and the mantis paid the fare.

"Keep the change, sirrah. It's a cold night. You should buy yourself a hot toddy at the end of the shift, when all your driving is done."

"I thank you, good sir. I might do that - I finish in an hour." The driver flicked on the Taxi for Hire sign. "Goodnight."

With a purr of tyres on the tarmac, the vehicle disappeared into the night.

"Now," said the mantis. "It's time to locate Madame the Cat."

They set off down a short lane with a number of street lights on high poles, and their shadows went before them and behind them and before them again, just like in the poem by Mister Eliot - although he blathered on about sunrises and sunsets, and it was far too late at night for either diurnal occurrence.

Indeed, it was after midnight (another good name for a song) when they arrived at a large gate, which led onto a wide gravelled drive. Their feet made a crackle on the gravel in a curious syncopation, five steps from the beetle's shorter legs to every three of the mantis.

"That's a good rhythm for those fellows in the ukulele band," said the mantis, adding in a quick two foot side shuffle.

"Do they need a new singer with a fine set of lungs?" asked the beetle, looking down on her own set of splendid protuberances. "I can hit a top E when I try."

"I bet you can," the mantis replied, and wondered about her contralto.

"But hush," she said, "I think we've arrived. Look, there's steps up to a veranda."

"And a rocking chair, with an occupant in it."

Sure enough, there was a chair with a gentle rock to and fro, occupied by an elderly cat with the swish of her elegant tail, side to side.

"Who have we here?" asked Madame the Cat, for it was certainly she. She spoke with an unexpected Texan accent, which quite took the thieves by surprise.

The mantis recovered his wits with alacrity, and the beetle offered a quick curtsey, figuring a wise cat would recognise a respectable lady, and they would all get along much better after that.

Which they did. "My, my," said the Cat, "you make a most elegant pair. But what brings you here, so late at night?"

They made their introductions, and the mantis revealed the purpose of their visit, by extracting the bags of jewels from the copious pockets of his trousers.

"Ahh, how splendid," said Madame the Cat. "I do love a good jewel, made up from the finest words in a fine story, presented with conciseness and craft."

And here you were, winked the mantis to the reader, thinking I'd stolen rocks. Not at all.

"The most exquisite treasures," said the appreciative cat, when the mantis opened his bag for her to see, "are those you find where you least expect them to be, nestled within some ordinary story. My oh my, such a sentence, such a word, that can really please me.

"I'm getting on, you see," she confided to the beetle, "and one's pleasures become less physical, more cerebral, as one hits a certain age. Although..." she looked at the mantis, who looked most debonair with his slicked back hair, she looked at the mantis with a speculative look.

He had the good grace to give her a bow, and the beetle thought, this is not good, now I need to compete with a pussy. And all I have is twelve spots. She primped a little, rearranging her breasts, to keep the mantis's eyes on the goods.

But he was distracted, watching the cat caress the jewel like words in her fingers, turning them over with great care, choosing the best ones for her collection.

"I'll have these few, if I may, shining like diamonds in a dull world, shining their light like a beacon. One doesn't see much like that around here. Although," she said, her eyes shining, "I know several writers who mine the brightest. I've known a scribbler or two."

The mantis grinned, pleased to have made the best money; and the beetle was content, realising the gracious old cat was no threat.

"Oh, honey," said Madame the Cat, seeing the beetle's look, "I've had lions and tigers back in my day, but now I'm perfectly content with my old Tom the Cat, out there in garden in his fine dungarees."

And the thieves saw the gentleman give a wave of his hand, and saw how the cat smiled with the greatest contentment. Her chair began to rock gently, and her tail swished to and fro.

"You can go now," the splendid cat said. "I'm tired. It's been a busy day."

And she placed the jewels she'd selected into her old glad bag, all put together with colourful patches; it too a piecemeal collection put together over many years.

The beetle leaned down to kiss the cat's cheek, and the mantis touched the brim of his cap - bright green to match his jacket - to honour the lady.

And they went back down to the grand iron gates, and stood together under the moonlight, pondering what to do.

"I know," said the beetle. "We should go down to the Fantastic Hotel on Curzon Street. People say they have the most marvellous adventures there. Extraordinary capers, quite unbelievable."

So they did, signing in at the desk, incognito.

"Did you hear..." and the desk clerk, dressed in black, whispered a conspiracy of thieves into their disbelieving ears.

* * * *

The praying mantis, or praying mantid, is the common name for an insect of the order Mantodea. These insects are notorious predators and their name is sometime mistakenly spelled 'preying mantis' which is incorrect.

Like all insects, a praying mantis has a three segmented body, with a head, thorax and abdomen. The abdomen is elongated and covered by the wings in adults. Being a carnivorous insect, the praying mantis feeds primarily on other insects such as fruit flies, crickets, beetles, moths and bees.

Coccinellidae is a widespread family of small beetles ranging in size from 1mm to 18mm. The family is commonly known as ladybugs in North America and ladybirds in Britain and other parts of the English-speaking world. Entomologists prefer the names ladybird beetles or lady beetles as these insects are not classified as true bugs.

The majority of coccinellid species are generally considered useful insects, because many species prey on herbivorous homopterans such as aphids or scale insects, which are agricultural pests.

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