Chapter 1: Night of Tears

Arendelle Port City. Once little more than a humble trading post, a waypoint for travellers and sailors to barter goods and coin. Of course, wherever there was goods and coin, the people inevitably followed. Through a series of deals and wealthy investors, Arendelle went from a flea market to a respected business capital. Where there were money, goods and people, crime wasn't far behind. Where most came to the city to buy and sell goods and services, many more came to profit through less fair means. Theft, fraud, smuggling, embezzlement, robbery. The city had seen its fair share of all of them.

When it seemed all but sure that the city would descend into a pit of vice, the advent of police and security forces marked a turning point in the war against both organised and opportunistic crime. People worked day and night to investigate and fight back against the people who strived to profit from that which was not rightfully theirs. In the end, it was not the severity of punishment for one's crimes that made even the most hardened criminals pause. It was the certainty.

Rumor has it there were still a few splinter groups left out there that had slipped through the cracks. No one knew for sure.

E. Fresia

Private Investigator

So read the plaque adorning the door to the office Elsa had rented. She had been rather reluctant to have it installed over the perfectly serviceable nameplate the owner had stuck besides the door. People came to her to help solve sensitive issues, not for an "authentic" experience. Elsa eventually acquiesced when her assistant Adam had persuaded her that it might at least raise awareness of her services to anyone who may happen to pass by. Even though private investigators were a rarity in the city, the clientele were hardly in abundance either.

In this city, when you wanted something looked into and the police wouldn't assist you, that was when you would seek out a private investigator. Which was a nice way of saying that they basically got the table scraps. Arendelle's police force was spread far and wide across the city, vigilant for any signs of criminal activity, and they were rarely wanting for funding. Which was more than Elsa could say for herself.

The office was one of many within a building that went fifteen stories above the ground, standing on the edge of Hezel, one of Arendelle's largest shopping districts. The place she had set up was a pair of rooms on the third floor which was, for a lack of a better word, bland. Dark blue carpet that made you itch if you touched it, grey walls, white ceiling tiles. Elsa didn't need anything with a bow wrapped around it. It would suffice that it got the job done.

With that in mind, she composed a quick email to her current client, reviewing her current findings. A few individuals would likely end up losing their jobs for this, but if they were going to act unprofessionally and outside of their guidelines, that was on them. Elsa had no sympathy for tomfoolery, nor the patience to pretend otherwise. Which was why she had eventually implemented an hourly fee for her services.

Elsa had finished her draft. Send. Print. The printer whirred to life, committing a copy of the day's work to paper. Once the papers were filed away, she checked the time. Four-fifty. After sitting there, pondering for a couple of minutes, she shut down the computer and donned her dark grey trenchcoat.

"Hey, you heading out already?" asked Adam as Elsa closed the door behind her. He was about the same age as her, and Elsa couldn't help but like him in spite of his eternally unkempt brown hair and "I've got a secret" expression. She had hired him not too long after setting the place up, and he had more than earned his keep.

Elsa looked around briefly, then nodded at him. "I have wrapped up the Worthing accounts case. And we don't appear to have any other clients in waiting." It was true. All the seats they had been provided with laid empty. If Elsa, and, by extension, Adam, hadn't been so meticulous, they probably would have been gathering dust.

Adam held up a hand, shaking his head. "Wait wait wait. You solved it already? How did you manage that? Last I checked, the banks don't even give people like us the time of day."

A shadow of a smile appeared on her lips. "It's all in how you sell it. Normally they would stonewall us, yes. But when I came to them with my concerns, I brought them around. Even for a case like this, no self-respecting organisation wants to appear complicit with accusations of fraud and such."

Adam only nodded. That almost certainly wasn't all there was to it, but he knew too well about Elsa's way with words. He didn't want to be at the business end of them any time soon. "So, what did you find, anyway?"

Elsa sighed. The whole thing was a bit of a farce. "By the looks of things, the accounts department isn't actually involved in embezzlement. They were simply trying out an alternative bank to improve the company's profits. All the secrecy about it was so they could take the credit for the idea later." She shook her head. "I'm willing to bet the company would overlook them going against procedure when they find out how their finances were improving."

Adam laughed a little. "Only they ended up suspecting one of their employees of full on corruption."

"Exactly. It's imperative that our client finds out what's really going on immediately so he can put his fears to rest." She looked out the window. Some salaryman out there would have a few choice words at the very least coming his way when the next business day came round. Many of her cases seemed to end this way, even if most of them came from jealous lovers suspecting infidelity (which was already a clear sign to Elsa that the relationship was on the rocks).

Adam was working away on the keyboard. "Okay, I'll send the invoice just as soon as you've confirmed the client is satisfied."

"Thank you." Elsa tugged on the collar of her trenchcoat. "Now, will that be all?"

He reached into one of the draws and pulled out a newspaper than had been folded out about halfway through. "Here."

Elsa perused the page that he had put in front of her:

Night of Tears

Starting tomorrow morning, one of the ten treasures of Albernon will be on public display at the Museum of Bellisi Arts. The Tear of the Goddess, a beautifully crafted sapphire dating from over three thousand years ago has been fully restored and will be available to see for one week only. The Tear is estimated at a value of over $100m (88m Euro) owing to its exceptional rarity and the quality and style of craftsmanship. The curator has stated…

"What is this about? Did someone from the museum call?" Elsa asked, peering over the paper.

"No, nothing like that." She became aware that his breathing had become slightly irregular. "I was- I was just wondering if you'd like to go take a look with me."

Elsa narrowed her eyes. It was an innocent enough request, sure. But how far would he try and take it? Time for some evasive maneuvers. "Sorry, I don't think I can afford-"

"It's free to enter," he cut in, pointing back at the article.

She glared at the page. Of course it was. "Well, I," Elsa stammered. She needed something. "I have some arrangements already. I almost forgot."

"You don't forget anything, boss." Adam tutted. "Staying at home and knitting doesn't count, you know."

He had some nerve."How I choose to spend my free time is none of your concern." Elsa grimaced slightly. "You are not my father."

Elsa's anger faded somewhat as she noticed a concerned look on his face. "No. I'm your friend. Aren't I?"

Regardless of his intentions, he had no right to butt into her personal life, or criticise how she chose to spend it "Adam Tobias Malkin, you are my employee. If you have a problem with that arrangement-"

He bolted up. If Elsa was surprised, she didn't show it."Fine!" he snapped, snatching back the paper. "Forget I said anything." He dropped the paper back into its drawer and slammed it shut, before going back to his typing.

Elsa stood there, now unsure which of them had crossed the line first. She soon decided that now wasn't the time. "Have a good weekend." With that, she turned and left.

"What? Oh, yeah, right," Adam muttered, without even looking.

Elsa made her way through the streets, replaying that conversation in her head while cursing herself at the same time. And not just because there were more productive ways to spend her introspection during her walk home. Adam was her employee, and professionally he was all but above reproach. He had performed his duties to the letter, as she would not settle for any less. And yet, the moment it came time to clock out he would try time and again to chip away at the shell she had erected around herself.

It wasn't his fault. None of it was. She just couldn't gage his intentions. And as long as it remained that way, she would stay the course, continuing to push him back. Okay, perhaps it wasn't so much that she couldn't tell what he was thinking so much as she had lost her trust in her ability to judge the people close to her. The whole thing gave her a headache. When the time came and she took the time to analyse her situation, it was a sorry state indeed. Twenty-five was far too soon an age to be tired of life. Maybe time would heal her. Maybe her work would. She was never sure.

She crossed the shopping district and closed in on the tower block where she resided. Arendelle had no real "wrong side of town," but Elsa was certain this was the place that came the closest. While the police force had improved most of the city's image, this wasn't the place where most looked when they sought out the sights in Arendelle. Major crimes were still kept in check here, but petty crime was fair game. Every other week there was some piece of vandalism or graffiti that had popped up overnight, and it was never very pleasant for anyone, save the perpetrator. Elsa had reached a conclusion regarding the residents: no one was really here by choice. But someone had to do the dirty work.

After sticking fast a couple of times, the key turned and Elsa was back home. As pristine as ever. Which was as much as she could make it. There was little she could do about the paint starting to crack off of the walls, but everything else was in perfect order. Elsa stopped herself in front of her mirror. There was a streak in her jet black hair that seemed to be fading. Already? No way could she leave that as it was.

First order of business was to freshen up. Even in the midst of November in a sparsely heated office it was rather easy to start perspiring. Then came the inevitable hair work. Els was not going to let it lose it's colour from stress. Not on her watch. And finally, something quick to eat. In this case it was some instant noodles. Nothing too filling, that would just made her lethargic.

Now, she could get down to business. Elsa sat down in her navy nightgown and pulled her laptop open, waiting for it to whirr into life. She didn't plan for this to take long, though quietly she had hoped for it.

"No messages." So much for that. The trail was as cold as the nights in Arendelle were now. Nothing to add to the nexus of information she had pinned to her bedroom. Was she really chasing after phantoms? Trying to catch smoke with her bare hands? Perish the thought.

She slapped the laptop shut. There were simpler, more accessible problems that she could deal with. Her professional relationship was at risk of becoming unprofessional. Regardless of whose fault it was, there will almost certainly be some resentment hanging in the air. Only one remedy she could think of. She took a plastic bag and sat down beside the window looking outside the main room.

She picked through the back. Royal blue? No, it was almost always royal blue. And she had almost depleted her supply of wool. Red? Did Adam like red? She had never thought to ask. It couldn't hurt to try it. She took out her pair of needles and got to work. The first few stitches were tricky, but past that it was quite easy to do without too much thought. Come the following Monday, she would at least have something to placate him with. A nice scarf would keep him cosy through the next few months. And while she was working, she could partake in her second favourite hobby: people watching.

At first, she had hoped for an apartment higher up in the tower. As it had turned out, the second floor was the perfect place for her to watch people walk by. There was the businessman she had been accustomed to seeing, with a haggard look. Either he really loved his job, or perhaps he was a pushover compared to his boss. Hopefully he would have something nice to come home to. Another hapless tourist wandered by. Had she taken the wrong bus, or was she hoping to see all of the city. Elsa smiled a little. At least someone out there saw the side none of the brochures wanted them to. Her smile soon faded on the next sighting. A young, cutesy couple, sidled up close together holding hands. Sure it was alright for them. Must have been real nice to meet your "soul mate" so soon.

Elsa looked down at her work. She had gone one stitch too far. She nearly snapped the needles. How had she gotten so careless? She threw down her work and started to pace the room. Why was it so many of her evenings had ended with her wanting to do nothing at all? Grabbing her trenchcoat, she eventually settled on an evening stroll. Anything had to be more interesting than this.

On the nicer side of town (but not too nice), a black van cruised through the city's many back streets. No one who saw it paid it much mind. Probably some cops sleuthing, right? Wrong. Well, on the cops part, anyway. While some people winded down and turned in for the night, others were just getting started.

The were two people in the back of the van. One man, one woman. Both of them dressed head to toe in black. He had almost shaven black hair and a small scar under his left eye, she had green eyes and a mop of red hair mostly obscured by a woolen hat. While the man fiddled with the gizmos that took up one half of the back, the young woman lay down on the seating that took up the other.

"Ahhhh," the woman stretched her arms and rubbed her eyes. "So, we there yet?"

"Not yet, Red," the man said, still fixed on what must have been about a hundred screens. "But since you're up, we might as well go through the briefing."

Red folded her arms. "This again? Come on, Rex." Rex probably wasn't his real name. Then again, Red probably wasn't her real name. Give and take. "You already told me about the cameras and the locks, right? And I even got your copy of the blueprints. I should be fine."

Rex gave something between a grumble and a growl. "This is important, Red! Every place we go to has its own security quirks. You have to listen or you might get caught out!"

She rolled her eyes. "If I were an amateur, maybe. Besides, this is just like those plane safety videos. They all say they're different, but they never are."

Oh, how Rex hated these missions. He was never assigned to be a babysitter, that task had just sort of snuck in there. He took a breath. "Listen to me. This isn't a game. You only need to get caught once and everything I've-we've been working on will be in trouble. Understand?"

"Fine, but I'm not gonna get caught. You know why? Cause I'm Phantom Red." Red made a whooshing sound for effect.

Rex tapped his foot, waiting for her to finish."Yes, and I'm the man who cases the museum, analyses the surveillance, looks up the code locks and biometrics they use, finds out the security guard patrol plan-"

"Yes, yes, I get it! Just get on with it already." Red crossed her arms. The last thing she needed was a pre-lecture on top of the lecture.

Rex nodded. "Yes, okay. Well, I've run a few checks for the best possible point of entry." The briefing went on for about ten minutes. Or it might have been ten thousand. It was difficult to tell. "Any questions?"

Red sat there with a stiff face. For about half a second. "Nope, I'm good."

"Right." Rex handed her another gadget for her belt. "When you've got the Tear, make your way to the extraction point. Give this a push and it's job well done. And remember, we absolutely cannot let the police get involved in this. As long as you have it before the alarms go off, we should be fine."

Red didn't get up quite yet. "And my pay?"

"Yes, don't worry." Rex sighed. "Tomorrow I'll see about getting you your cut". Now get out there and spirit away that Tear."

Red cracked a wide smile. "Consider it already ours." She jumped out of the back of the van, and found herself outside of the museum's service entrance. About twenty metres away an emergency ladder had been lowered, just as Rex had explained. At least, Red thought he had explained. Booor-ing. Still, after sitting through that speech, she didn't really feel like ad-libbing this job.

On the roof, she had a choice of several glass domes from which she could enter the museum proper. And a good place to mess up their cameras wouldn't be far off. Red rubbed her gloved hands. When the morning came, the only tears here would be from the curator. And the museum goers. But only if they were really whiny.