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Diamonds are so clever (IC)

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The past few weeks, crime was up in Freedom City.

Of course, every city has some variation in crime statistics, some wobbles, improvements and failures. Freedom City, with its concentration of super heroes, was fairly (but by no means completely) free of petty crime, although its attractiveness to Supervillains created a whole new set of problems. Overall it was debatable just how well of the great city was.

So a minor increase in crime rates, statistically, was inevitable now and again, despite the best efforts of Freedom City, the Freedom League, Young Freedom, and all the other mighty institutions that where placed there, from the Lab to Parkhurst hotel. Not to mention the work of its police force.

But this was, by all accounts, a little odd.

Diamonds where going missing. Particularly, the diamonds worn by the rich and famous as jewelry. there was simply no explanation. No break ins, no mug ins, just reports of missing items - rings, necklaces, even a diamond encrusted suitcase for one particularly ostentatious businessman.

They were just there one day, gone the next!

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June 29th

The Office of Amy Quinn's Courier Service

The knock on the door was loud and, to be honest, rather rude.

"Hello, hello! Anyone in there!" went the loud and, to be honest, rather rude voice.

The customer was a large man, athletic in build and wearing a rather ill fitting but expensive suit. To add to his appearance, his wore what could only be described as ugly and cumbersome goggles, as if he had stepped out of a motorshow fifty years ago.

His voice had a strong Japanese accent, and he certainly appeared Japanese in ethnicity.

"I need urgent package delivered!" he said, waving a thick sealed envelope in one hand and a thick wad of cash in the other.

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Amy's Courier Service was a new thing in the theatre district. With help from the Freedom League, she set up shop delivering packages, small to medium items. She could do larger items though that would take special order. Still, being a small business owner made Amy happy. She got to travel around the city. She got to meet with interesting people and Freedom City had some of the most interesting people. On top of heroes and villains, there were people who tried to make a living on what they could do with their powers! Amy thought teleporting with her job would be easy, but she came to find out it wasn't so easy to carry stuff though the realms. Luckily she tested that before the whole business venture started. After that she bought a van and thus Amy's Courier Service was born!

The crime wave did not worry her, though the the method was kind of mysterious to her. How could someone do that? Just come in and disappear at the same time with no tracks at all. She could do it, but then again, she WOULDN'T do it! Maybe there was some mystical magician doing it. It never crossed her mind that someone of her type could be doing it. What little she knew about her race didn't include bandits. She liked to think they were noble travelers, like her mother's side of the family. Yet she knew so little about them that she didn't worry. Worry leads to grief and grief isn't fun at all.

Amy was just getting back in from lunch. Business was slow today, she hadn't heard a phone ring yet! As soon as she plopped down in her desk chair, she heard a knock at the door. "Did I forget to unlock it," she questioned her memory. Amy smiled as the man came in after he saw the 'Yes, we are Open' sign. She was going to greet him, but in his bluster he interrupted her! He was obviously struggling with his English. "Good afternoon. Would this be easier," she asked politely in Japanese. "Or would that be rude of me," she asked in English. The man could tell in either language that the States was not her home of origin due to her accent.

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"Old Will" Will Williamson was not that old. He looked older, more like seventy than fifty. But that was thirty years living rough on the street. He drank too much, was in poor health, and swore like a trooper. It had to be said, he wasn't the nicest smelling person in the world either. To his favour, he knew more street gossip and rumor than most tramps would ever forget.

And Old Will had struck lucky, as he related to the King of Suits.

"Yer Man! I jes' found it, lying there!" he said, clutching his newly gained fortune in one hand (a wad of notes) and his prize, a bottle of whisky, in the other.

"I was beggin' as usual, yernowhowitis...rich folks jes' look at you like you nuthin'! jes a smelly drunk!" he spat.

"And, there it was! outanowhere! a silver ring! bigasyerlike!" he exclaimed, holding his hands apart in an obviously exagerrated manner.

"And there was nobody around! jes' popped into my cap like it wer fellin' from the sky! like manna from 'eavan it was!" he said, and despite his penchant for drink, he looked like he was telling the truth. "And yer know the strangist thing?" he added, tapping the side of his oversized and blotched nose.

"I think I 'eard some footsteps!!!!"

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Good afternoon. Would this be easier, or would that be rude of me,"

"" said the man, relieved. His English was functional, but a little painful to hear. His Japanese was fluent, although she couldn't place the dialect.


He glanced at his watch, a rather high-tech, expensive thing, she noticed.


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Read the poster outside the busy theatre. A long queue was already forming, the show being popular and very well reviewed. The tickets, it must be said, were not cheap, and the clientele were clearly rich.

Come see the amazing Mr. Diamondlight!

A spectacle not to be missed!

Witness his astounding displays of slight of hand, and stage showmanship!

Be Amazed! Be Delighted!

PS: No mutant powers. Certified.

The show was certainly looking like quite the spectacle!

The backdoor was policed by a half asleep man who was a wide as he was broad, with a broken nose but handsome face.

"Yes missy, can I help you?" he asked, straightening from his relaxed posture as Amy approached...

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Marceau dealt with people who had fallen through the cracks of society with some regularity, and it was something of a relief to catch up on the word on the street with people like Old Will. "I know how it is, Mr. Williamson" he answered breezily, leaning in a relaxed fashion against the alley wall "I have dealt with similar matters many times. silver rings though..." he examined the specimen the vagrant bore "..they were much rarer. You found this in your cap after hearing footsteps though? And saw nobody? Hmmmmm" the lean Frenchman held it up to a critical blue eye for a few moments before lowering it and smiling at Williamson, clapping him heartily on the back "Old Will, my friend, this settles it: so far a lot of these sorts of items have been appearing in the hands of folks in your position in life, and all have been of around this quality or better. The genius thing though?" he said grinning his white smile "Is that this is precisely the same as a ring I saw advertised as missing by a Ms. Janet Houlstrough, According to a little detective work of mine, she lost it shortly after a visit to the Supremo Theatre, at a show by the magician DIamondlight" he put an arm around Old Will's shoulders, staring directly into the other man's eyes "just as several other notable socialites and family of wealthy persons have since Diamondlight first began performing. By this point, I have ruled out entirely the thought that this is a coincidence. This is all connected. It's time for me to see a magician about a thieving spree" he drew himself up to his full height, swept his cape about him and stalked off in the direction of a fire escape, slipping Old Will a slim packet of (very tasty!) rations he had devised himself and a small note, on which was written in neat cursive See me when this is reported solved at the old ratcatcher's.

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"just as several other notable socialites and family of wealthy persons have since Diamondlight first began performing. By this point, I have ruled out entirely the thought that this is a coincidence. This is all connected. It's time for me to see a magician about a thieving spree" .

"Well, whoever this magician is, all I can say is he is magic. I haven't dra...errrr...eaten this well in months!" he smiled, grabbing Marceau's rations all the same.

At the Supremo Theatre

The King of Suits arrived only a minute or so behind Amy, and yet the crowd had grown. The performance was only minutes away, and still they were letting the stragglers in whilst the reception hall blossomed with customers.

The theatre itself was oldish, but in good repair, probably built the beginning of this century, with at least one or two major rejuvinations. It was tall, and dark, with a wonderful exotic roof, and an impressive light display outside.

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Having resumed his everyday clothes(today with the ochre coveralls and clean boots) overtop of his heroics garb, the tall man gave the theatre a very appreciative look. He had attended countless performances at such places in Europe, many of them interrupted by attacks from threats by the living or the dead, and once a bizarre mixture of the two. Something that reminded him so strongly of home was a welcome experience to the young vigilante, who smiled unconcernedly as he stared up at the lofty ceiling, soaking in the feeling of age and peace.

Sticking his hands in his pockets he began wandering over to the ticket booth, twirling the bills in his pocket around his fingers.

He took a little time to look around himself at the crowd, carefully noting which patrons might end up a few jewels lighter in the coming days.

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The crowds had begun to thin out in the foyet of the building.

An usher hung out a "Sold out!" sign on the front door, with an apologetic shrug, to the chorus of dissapointed sighs and complaints.

"I so wanted to watch this, he is like, meant to be awesome!"

"Mommy, mommy, can't we see the magician?"

"I'll pay double...no! make that treble, for a ticket!"

As if on cue, a ticket tout sprung out of the crowd, offering up spare tickets and considerably inflated prices. Despite the profit margin he was making, he was not short of interest.

A light rain had hit the warm evening air, and actually made the lights of the Supremo theatre sparkle even more romantically.

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Marceau looked glumly at the 'Sold Out!' sign, shoving the bills deeper into his pocket, to await their appointed destiny. Today, it seems their destiny is takeout for the posse he decided, beginning to turn back to the entrance and prepare to get a less legal seat, when the ticket tout appeared. Glancing at the man with no obvious concern to belie the alarm bells clanging inside his head, he wandered over to a nearby red-headed young lady who happened to be standing in the perfect place to let him watch his target no matter which way he tried to escape.

"Good day, miss!" he said brightly, flashing her a hearty smile "A shame about the selling-out for the Diamondlight show, eh? Quite a shame! It seems immensely popular. Were you coming to see it, by the way? I was, I've heard he's excellent!"

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