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Mags and Phoebe were sisters. Phoebe was the elder by just over three years. They lived happily together in a quiet cul-de-sac,
in virtual retirement. Both had almost identical facial features, the same funny walk, hair colour and demeanour. They
were often confused by those that observed them out strolling in the street on their own. Pheobe enjoyed sun-bathing in the
spacious walled garden. She would lap-up the scorching, burning, rays of the torrid noon-day sun, blissfully unconcerned
either about Noel Cowards advice about how foolish this stupid habit was, or of the book shelves full of case studies equally
that warned of the harm that could be done by excessive exposure to the sun, especially to those with birth marks and freckles.
Mags was more passionate about staying indoors away from the heat and enjoyed the piano. She would pop into the garden
once in a while to see what Pheobe was up to and once she had satisfied herself she was safe and well would return indoors.
Behind the lace curtains the envious neighbours muttered about the two sister's antics.
Well, you would not think it looking at them, would you, but they are both multi- millionaires.
In their heyday Mags and Phoebe had both been loyal companions to a well known opera singer, Dame Katrina Ogilvy, a
great musical giant of Scots descent. She was always very choosy about her choice of help-mates and companions. Mags and
Pheobe were devoted fans, and never spoke back. The House of Ogilvy had as long a line of singers, conductors and musicologists,
as the House of Stewart had Kings and Queens. An Ogilvy had sung at every Scottish Coronation from the time of Robert the
Bruce. Their place in Scottish History was as solid as Edinburgh Castle Rock face.
Dame Katrina was a gifted singer from birth and she appeared regularly at the Albert Hall, leading the annual Festival
of Remembrance. She sang contralto for Royal Sadlers Wells, The Royal Opera House Covent Garden, and was a particular favourite
of Scottish Opera at the Edinburgh International Festivals. She performed at the City Halls and the Usher Halls year on
year for over many years, gaining a popular following with home and visiting audiences alike. A legend herself, she was
a personal friend and confidant of all of the musical figures of the day, from Britain, Ireland, Canada, Australia, Japan
and Europe. Only USA had refused her entry on the grounds that she had a sympathy for Communism. The truth was that she
had once sang a piece entitled A Symphony for Communism. This order to stay away from America was during the era of Reds
Under the Bed...when the Senate convened the infamous hearings of Joeseph McCarthy ...
Katrina had weaknesses, all the Ogilvys were highly sexed. She was also too fond of the gaming tables, at casinos, especially
the roulette wheel on board cruise ships. Yet, she was extraordinarily lucky too and was one of the richest women in the
world. She never married, and was childless, although she did have a number of flings, a handful of engagements, some long,
shocking affairs with married men, a score of lesbian encounters, and a constant, uncontrollable proclivity towards violin
players.
Katrinas weight had always been a problem, a thyroid condition had caused a metabolism dysfunction and in turn this very
sadly led to an early death. She died on stage singing one of her best known pieces Giaoacchino Buffo di Due Catti, with
her life long friend, on and off lover, and soprano, Dame Sheba Gingers, whom she always affectionately called Whiskers.
Almost every violin player in Glasgow, Edinburgh and London, along with those from the orchestras of the entire fleet of
The Queens Mary and Elizabeth, the QE2, Carnival Lines, and P & O Cruises, and every Opera House in Milan, Rome, Paris
and Toronto past and present, attended her memorial service at St Pauls Church, Covent Garden. Her coffin was shaped like
a violin and she had six violins buried with her to play with in the after life.
Mags and Phoebe were named as Katrinas next of kin. They were each left a substantial legacy in her will, that guaranteed
that they would have a comfortable, secure life and old age. Some said they had been left hundreds of millions of pounds.
The terms of the will were challenged by a nephew of the deceased, who claimed that he had been promised a share. He made
all sort of accusations, including alleging that Mags and Phoebe were not family, that they were not even sisters. A further
challenge on the grounds of Dame Katrinas mental state, and diminished responsibility when she made the will, added to
delays and costs. The case became a cause celebe, with lawyer fees running into tens of thousands of pounds a day.
Mags and Phoebe interests were ably defended by a notable, and leading Scottish advocate, Sir Felix Paws QC. He had
an accomplished array of clients, and specialized in cases in the Family Court and also those involving rights being infringed.
An outstanding raconteur he had appeared twice at the Hen and Chicks, Abergavenny, where he had had a romp with the Assistant
Stage Manager, under the influence of catnip. Dame Katrina had originally met Felix there when she was doing a signing of
her autobiography Katrina : My Courage.
At the end of the legal proceedings Mags and Phoebes rights to all the money was maintained in the 200 page judgment
of The Lord Advocate in the Glasgow High Court. The case made Scottish Legal History. A play on the case by those well
known playwrights Dartford Crossing had been spoken of as the new Mousetrap; and had taken the country by storm.
A London firm of solicitors, Whittington and Co was appointed to act as trustees for the old girls, making a personal
call on them once every 6 months to see that they were content with the ongoing arrangements. Nothing was too trivial for
the senior partner of the firm, Richard Whittington : they were his most important clients. He only once sent a substitute
to check on the well being of Mags and Phoebe, that was the year he became Lord Mayor Of London.
The sisters had always lived in large towns, in London they had a Mews address in Chelsea. In Edinburgh they had
lived in the Royal Mile with access on hand to the Citys catacombs. They were accustomed to living in fancy houses, townhouses,
Country Houses, dining lavishly and travelling even to their medical check-ups in a chauffeur driven limousine.
Dame Katrinas extensive jewellery collection was highly prized. She had insisted that Mags and Pheobe wear pieces from
this. That custom being continued was a key condition of satisfying the will and each day the girls necks shone with
a different piece from the collection, gold, diamonds, pearls, emeralds, as well as many other rare and precious gems.
Knowledge of the sizable value of the collection was publicized at the time of the Court case. Little went by in the world
of jewellery that was not known to Jerry Thomas.
In the shop on the corner of Mags and Pheobes street, John Thomas, of JT Antiques, was passing the time of day with
a customer.
Silver is having a catastrophic period, it might as well be brass he said being presented with a potential purchase,
rather than a sale.
JT was nervous. He had a brief from his wife Jerry to watch out for Mags and Pheobe. They often called in at the shop.
JT reported their movements, like a detective on a divorce case, to his adored but rather pushy wife, Jerry:
Old Mags and Phoebe dont miss a thing, but they do trust me.
Well, they are just curious, coming here it is a part of their daily routine.
When they come into the shop next time, we will make a move said Jerry.
Jerry Thomas often did a good turn for the sisters. From time to time, she took them in some shopping, this was how
she gained familiarity with them, or just made out it was a neighbourly call, or that she was popping in to learn of their
latest escapades.
These visits enabled surveillance to be orchestrated on what precautions existed as to the safe keeping of the sisters
assets, in particular the jewellery haul.
These precautions were elaborate and would not be straight forward to defeat as there were alarms, locks, CCTV, trip wires,
electronic sensors and booby traps.
But Jerry had a easier plan than a common or garden break-in.
JT was not looking forward to next day. Jerry had briefed him well into the night.
Nothing violent was envisaged, it would just be a simple kidnap and ransom case.
Mags and Pheobe rose as normal that day, they had breakfast and decided on a walk past JT Antiques, where the nice man
there always had a friendly word for them.
Mags went inside the shop first, Pheobe followed.
Mags did not see anything else after that, everything went black, all she could hear were voices and a scuffle and then
screeching...
Quick, Quick, grab her..hold her ...now, now, put her inside...
Mags knew the female voice, she recognized it as Jerry, the lady who visited them sometimes . Oh no, she was talking
about Pheobe..
Dont let that cat out the bag!!.
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