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meditation for breathing and focus. Then just before his next job he’d add in the gymnastics, rings, horse, parallel bars and sprints. A work out that almost no one else in the world could have done. On the other hand as no one else in the world did what he did, no one else needed his physical abilities.
     
    It was odd. Everywhere he went people would look at him, assess his shape as somewhat over weight, his build as oversized, slow and clumsy, and then guess him to be an out of shape banker. Yet he ate less and worked harder than any ten of them put together, and just to cap it all, he’d gained his black belt in three different martial arts. If it ever came to fisticuffs, most would think him soft. None would expect him to fight like a kick boxer. Then again he was careful never to remove his shirt in public any more. One look at his ropey muscling might give him away.
     
    Once it would have upset him as people’s opinions seemed important to him as a younger man. But no longer. Now, far from insulting he found people’s opinion of him an effective and useful tool and actually cultivated it, dressing to conceal his physique. More than one cop had ignored him completely in an investigation, because there was no way he could possibly be the cat burglar they sought. Cat burglars were small, wiry, athletic people. Similarly most people would have had an image of a master criminal as an athletic, good-looking, Adonis. A middle aged office worker simply didn’t cut the mustard.
     
    Sherial came in as he was finishing off in the pool and once more caught him off guard and red-faced. He normally swam naked in his home, there was no one to see him after all, but now suddenly there was. He cursed himself for another oversight. No one else could have walked in through those automatically locked doors, and normally no one else would have been in the house anyway. But he should have known neither of those conditions applied here. The mistake worried him. He was making far too many mistakes lately. Mistakes got you killed in his line of work.
     
    Sherial showed no sign of leaving however as he got out of the pool, and he determined to brazen it out. Anything to show he wasn’t a complete dolt. Or just to show he still had some self-control.
     
    Mikel tried not to give away his embarrassment as he walked calmly towards the hanging towels, though he was certain she guessed anyway. But in turn Sherial said nothing, choosing instead to stare openly. It was odd. She was a beautiful and sensuous woman, or angel or whatever, and he would somehow have expected her to be checking him out as it were. Instead he felt it was more as though he was being scrutinized, studied as a scientist does bacteria under the microscope. It sent a chill through him that mere towels couldn’t ward off. But she said nothing and no more did he.
     
    Instead of speaking with her, he decided he would be better off spending time in his workshops, and asked if he could see her for lunch in a couple of hours instead. A proposal which, much to his surprise she accepted without question. Maybe she wanted to spend more time with her adoring fans.
     
    Whatever her reason it was a relief. For as well as wanting to get some practical business attended to; such as checking on the police’s progress investigating his latest crime, laying more false trails, and pawning the stones, he also needed the time to address his feelings for her and control them. And to do some basic investigation.
     
    Every fibre of his being screamed at him that he had to learn everything he could about her. He had to retake control of himself. For too long he’d allowed himself to be a puppet in someone else’s show. It was time to take over the reigns again, to pull his own strings and maybe, just maybe to learn how to pull hers. Before she returned and every fibre of his being went gaga once again. It was a black thought.
     
    The first of his day’s chores were easily done, after