It's already the fourth night in a row that Étienne's been at the police station working through the night — a fourth month in a row that he's found himself doing so. As a captain of the precinct, normally he wouldn't find himself doing much overtime. That was usually reserved for officers of much lower rank, or the night shift to finish off. But the case that Étienne was currently working on was personal, and he wasn't about to let just anybody onto the case. No, he wanted to solve this one himself.
Ares Wheeler. Professional thief, professional thorn in Étienne's side.
Even though the young man was already known to the police department, he seemed to be nothing more than a phantom in the night. Someone that pops up in the oddest of places, leaving only a taunting clue in his escape to drive them absolutely insane. But no one's actually seen him; no witnesses means it's even harder to try and locate the thief. All they had was a taunting note that had given them his name, as if he wanted them to know exactly who he was. Well, that wasn't all that surprising. Criminals often left a calling card because their egos wanted them to become infamous. Étienne wasn't about to let that happen.
He'd been working the case personally for the last few months, but who knows really how long this Ares Wheeler had actually been up to these tricks. Another city, another country perhaps? Well, it didn't matter to the French man. This thief was on his turf now, and he wasn't about to lose face over some jokester thief thinking he could get away with all this and then disappear. This time, it was personal.
Étienne lets out a sigh as he puts down the piece of paper he'd been wracking his brain over for a solid hour now. A case study of how things had been progressing thus far. Squeezing the bridge of his nose for a couple seconds, the captain looks back down at the various different photographs scattered across his desk. All pictures taken of the crime scene, with incriminating notes and riddles left behind by the trickster thief. Some were written on notes, others were spelled out in jewels or whatever it was the man had decided to steal that day. All Étienne wanted was for the man to slip up one time, and then he was sure he had him. But somehow so far, the thief had been very careful not to leave any more evidence other than his taunts.
A buzz is heard, and Étienne's tired eyes look over at his phone. The screen's lit up, revealing that he had a new text. The man grabs his phone and brings it closer to him, but he frowns immediately when he sees that the text is from an unknown number. The man hesitates for a moment before he unlocks his phone to take a look at the message.
His climb down the fire escape was soundless. Usually, when one clambered down the metal grating, it rung like a bell. But Ares was smart, Ares was dexterous and Ares was confident- this was the trifecta in ensuring a quiet entrance and an even quieter exit.
His knapsack, thrown over his shoulder, rustled with goodies. Two, three blocks away, he sought the shelter of a dark and damp alleyway that stunk of trash and whatever had died in it. That was okay- it was not like his apartment, really a cramped boiler room in the back of a bakery he stayed in in exchange for labor, smelled any better. There, he slid the sack off his shoulder and with excited, wiggling fingers, looked through the contents.
This was a riskier hit. Though it looked unassuming from the outside, the penthouse of that complex belonged to a well-known CEO of a mid-sized company. George Suzu-something. Whatever. Ares was well aware of the intimacies of burglary- though one looking into a family trespassing, as opposed being invited in, lent to another layer of personability- a delightfully secretive one.
The rush, the reward- that was what Ares sought. In that sack was jewelry, swept from under the nose of the CEO's wife. Even in the shadows of the alley it glittered in the movements of his palm. And there were wads of cash too, stolen from the safe hidden tritely behind an oil painting. Oh, he'd left something behind for them alright. The trademark sign of Ares Wheeler, Cat Burglar- a taunting message in a black, suspiciously sticky substance, ended with a face coyishly sticking its tongue out.
He could not help the laugh that came spilling out gleefully, as he hugged the wads of cash towards his chest. Ares had added another thing to his routine, and after stuffing the contents back into the sack, he pulled out a phone, an ancient and more importantly, untraceable thing, and texted with a grin:
Hey sexy. Guess who's about $1,000 richer tonight?
This was sent to the captain of the city's police department. Ares' hits had gained some notoriety and he was even gifted a segment on the local news. There was his first sitting of Captain Etienne Blanchard, a French man with sandy blonde hair and a determination in his hazel eyes that amused Ares to no end. He knew, after that day, he would "help" the Captain in his capture.
Étienne stares down at the message on his phone with a wary expression, tired and not in the mood for such games. Yet he can't deny the tiny spark of adrenaline that bursts through his body every time his eyes scan over the words again. There's nothing much to the text, especially considering he doesn't know the origins of it.
Honestly, he could just as easily brush it off as a scam message and nothing more. Sexy? Richer tonight? Yeah, definitely read like one of those 'Hot Guys in Your Area!' ads that obnoxiously shout at him from his computer screen when he forgets to turn down the volume. For a brief second his thumb hovers over top of the trash icon, contemplating just ignoring the message and going on with his night. He has more important things to do tonight, after all. Things that required the entirety of his attention. It's why he spent so many nights at the office.
But... For some reason, something nags him at the back of his mind that he wanted to know who was texting him. Not that he's exactly a good texter himself, so he's not about to play along with the anonymous caller so to speak. Instead, he merely sends a short and curt reply:
Who is this? How did you get this number?
Étienne stares at his phone as soon as he sends the message, as if expecting an immediate response. But he quickly slams it down on top of his desk — almost as if guilty of something — when someone knocks at the door to his office. He mumbles out an enter, and the door swings open as one of the beat cop detectives sticks their head through the door.
"Sir, we have reports of a burglary — it's him," the woman informs him, and quickly ducks out as Étienne immediately jumps to his feet and grabs his coat off the back of his chair.
"Officer Agnes, grab everyone and tell them to immediately head to the crime scene. If it's still fresh, we might be able to pick up his trail. Send everyone that's not currently on a call," he demands of the woman officer as he exits his office, who nods and immediately runs off towards the main bull pen. Phone is slipped haphazardly into his coat pocket, forgotten for now as he immediately rounds up his most trusted personnel to head with him to the crime scene. A quick description of what had been left for the police to find confirms that it was indeed the thief Étienne was currently hunting, and lights bathe the night in blue and red as he sets to speeding towards the crime scene. Would tonight finally be the night?
The text appeared, dim on the old phone screen, though the light from an upstairs apartment helped illuminate it against its dully army green background. Ares snickered- this Officer Blanchard just made it too damn easy!
What do you mean? Don't play games with me! It's your favorite person !
He laughed quietly, as he stretched his legs out luxuriously, like he were a king reclining in his royal palace (if the palace smelled of yesterday's trash and stale rain water). In the distant he heard the familiar whine of police sirens, cutting through the ambiance of the city. If he were more cautious, or smarter, he would have distanced himself as far as possible from the scene of the crime, which lay only a few blocks away. But the idea of sitting in the vicinity of the scene, the cops desperately scrambling to find the culprit while he lounged carelessly right under their noses, it excited him. Brought that distinct flutter in his stomach, a sensation few experiences could elicit in him nowadays.
This dance with the authorities had almost gotten him caught more than once in the past. But Ares, to what he credited as quick wit and fleet feet, managed to wiggle out from their grasp, to wreck havoc on some other rain-stricken, frustrating night.
Ares turned to rest his shoulder, wiggle himself comfortably against the wall, a puerile grin stretched over his boyish features like he were texting a high school crush. Quickly, his thumbs pressed the buttons, feverishly fixing errors caused by the lack of light in the back alley. He wanted this to be perfect.
Ooo, I think I hear you coming. Welcome home, darling! You'll like the surprise I left out for you.
Posted 10-04-2021, 05:40 PM
Thief in the Night [ COPS & ROBBERS AU ]
