rviano
"Gerroff me!" Mr. Sinclair bellowed to the overlarge turtle who had someone, slowly and unnoticed, climbed onto his back. "Whadda think you're about?" The turtle, nonplussed, explained, he thought he was a bloated cricket.
Shrouded in black muslin veils, the woman crept, nondescript, through the procession. The item she concealed inside her jacket, would soon be placed at the prearranged spot, and in two hours time would be discovered by the preselected people.
Someone has absconded with it and it cannot be found. Perhaps it's hidden in a dark basement with undetected mold growing through the cracks in the floorboards. Where ever it is, it may not be found for some time...