Chapter 1: Case 1: Luck of the Draw
Chapter Text
Marinette has made a lot of convoluted plans over the years, not to mention the numerous backups and contingencies she had in case something went wrong. At this point it was second nature to come up with plan upon plan upon plan in case any one thing went wrong. It happened almost without her realizing at times.
Wrong didn’t begin to describe what her latest plan had led to.
Flames lit up the street as firefighters worked to contain the blaze. The air was sweltering, almost painful to look at.
“In my defense, the plan did not consist of stupidity in the form of throwing a flaming notebook,” Marinette sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and cursing Plagg’s bad luck.
“Yeah, well, you really turned up the heat on this one huh Naanders,” Detective Aderyn Moore snickered, struggling to appear professional as Officer Riley Sanders groaned about how bad puns and wordplay should be left to Detective Grayson.
“Ha ha. At least I caught the killer, no?” She retorted, crossing her arms as she shot the pair a look.
The door of a patrol car slammed shut behind them, the sound drowned out by all the different sirens going off.
“You did, and as such you get to explain how your hit and run case led to… this,” Chief Zhang furrowed his brow as he and Detective Grayson approached.
“Mari…. What the hell?”
She blew out a breath before turning to face the two of them with a bright smile. “I swear I can explain.”
—--------------------------------
Angel Point Lane
Bludhaven, NJ
2 days prior
—------------------
“Alright, what have we got?” Dick asked, as Marinette just continued past, pulling her sweater tighter around her, staving off the last bite in the air before the summer sun would turn the day toasty, ignoring the beat cop filling them in.
“Female vic, hit and run. Coroner places the time of death between 2:30 and 5 this morning.”
“It wasn’t a hit and run.”
“Excuse me?” the beat cop asked.
“It wasn’t a hit and run. It was a dump and go. She was murdered.”
“Was it now?”
Marinette nodded, crouching down next to the body. “See here? Defensive wounds. She put up a fight. Blood matted on the back of her head, and light bruising around her throat. My best guess? Her attacker tried to strangle her, not expecting much of a struggle, she broke free and either stumbled back and hit the back of her head on something, or they hit her on the back of the head with something. Besides, there’s not enough blood for it to have happened here. Therefore murder and dump.”
The beat cop snorted as she inspected the body further, poking the arm gently with a stick, humming softly to herself.
“Anything else Mademoiselle Psychic?”
“She worked at the casino.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at her tattoo. Queen, King, and Ace of Spades. Her thumbs are callused, there’s a tan line from her brace and scarring from surgery. Carpal tunnel would be my guess. I’d bet my lucky charm that she was a dealer at the local casino.”
Aderyn raised a brow at that.
“Riley?”
“Give me a sec…. Victoria Rose Champagne. Age 44. Card Dealer at Luthor Casino.”
“Well bless my soul, Naanders. I will never understand how you manage to gather all that and jump to conclusions as fast as you do.”
Marinette grinned, fighting back a small laugh. “I can do better. Her killer was a local.”
“And why do you say that?”
“They dumped the body on a backroad.”
“How do you know this is a back road?” Riley asked.
She raised a brow at that before vaguely gesturing around. “Because I have no idea of where we are.”
“Touche.”
Dick shook his head watching the three of them, before speaking up.
“We should go and speak to the spouse first. Inform him of the murder and question him.”
Marinette furrowed her brows at that. “Question him?
“Cases like these, it’s often the spouse. We usually look into them first.”
Marinette huffed a little at that, shaking her head. “It’s not him. We need to go to the casino. Which way is it?”
“Naanders-”
“Which way?”
“South. Now let’s go- Naanders, where are you going?”
She glanced over her shoulder as she walked off, shooting him a Cheshire grin. “South!”
Dick blew out a breath fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she walked away, whistling.
“Moore. Sanders. Finish talking to the couple who found her, then look into the spouse. We’ll meet back up at the precinct.”
“Where are you going?”
“Someone has to keep Naanders from committing a felony.”
“I will not!”
Riley yelped as Marinette spoke up from behind them. “When did you-”
She huffed as the other two just sent her a look before continuing. “Anyways, you two have fun questioning people. I’ll be winning at the tables.”
“You are not gambling.”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
Aderyn laughed while Riley shot her a thumbs up. “Good Luck, Mari.”
“You’ll need it, Honey. At that casino especially,” Aderyn added on.
She grinned. “I won’t need it.”
“Sure you won’t.”
—--------------------------------
Luthor Casino
Bludhaven, NJ
—------------------
The doors slid open, blasting the pair with cool air, soft music, and the gentle murmurings and clinging of gambling and slot machines.
“Hey, Dick?”
“Yeah, Naanders?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any money on you would you?”
He narrowed his eyes as he glanced over at her. “I might have a ten or twenty. Why?”
“No reason. Can I borrow it? I swear I’ll pay you back.”
“Marinette….”
“Please?” she pleaded. “I won’t do anything bad. Promise.”
Dick sighed as he took out his wallet, pulling out a crisp 10 dollar bill and holding it out to her, pulling it back as she went to snatch it.
“Don’t do anything illegal,” he warned.
“Who, me? Never,” she asked, blinking sweetly, causing Dick to snort as she snatched the bill from his hand. “Have fun!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared amongst the patrons, weaving her way through the tables before finding one with an empty seat.
She smiled, slapping the 10 dollar bill onto the table. “Deal me in.”
—------------------
“Detective Grayson?”
“Yes?”
“Hi. Deuce Coinne. Head of Security here at Luthor Casino,” the man offered, holding out his hand. Dick took it, giving a firm handshake before letting the other man lead him away.
“What can I do for you today?”
Dick gave him a tight smile. “We found one of your employees on the side of the road this morning. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Victoria Rose Champagne?”
“Tory? Oh god. Is she okay?”
“I regret to inform you she’s dead.”
Deuce froze at that, taking a moment to take a deep breath and collect himself, before nodding.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Tory is- was, one of our best dealers. She was quick and no one could catch a cheater faster than she could. Friendly as well. She often worked some of the most popular tables.”
“Did you ever suspect her of double dealing or did she ever do anything suspicious?”
“No, no not at all. I mean she often worked more hours and spent more time here than our other dealers, but I always guessed it was because she and Vic have a son. We all know how expensive little kids can be. I swear my little girl outgrows her favorite dress every other week. But I never suspected her of anything. She was always wonderful to be around.”
Dick nodded, “Do you know if anyone has filed a complaint against her recently? Maybe a disgruntled customer who thought she cost them money? Anyone who wanted her dead?”
Deuce shook his head. “No one comes to mind. Um, we have surveillance on the floor at all times,” he told Dick opening a door leading to a room filled with screens. Each screen focused on a table or a section of slots. A guard sat there, keeping half an eye on them, swiveling slightly in their chair. “The casino offers full service gaming, and we recently spent 10 million upgrading the facilities to improve the customer’s experience. Softer lighting, a wider selection of games and alcohol, as well as expanding the main room and reinforcing the walls with compressed lead for safety in the case of an event. Stronger than steel, these walls.”
Dick frowned at that detail, filing it away for later to pass along to Superman, as he looked through the screens. One eye peeled for his consultant as he watched, cards getting shuffled and dealt, practically flying through some of the dealers hands.
He was about to ask a question, when a small light started to blink under one of the screens, the guard and Deuce immediately going over to look at it.
“What’s happening?” Dick asked, peering over to see a bouncer walking over to speak to a petite dark haired woman, who looked suspiciously like his consultant.
“Suspected cheater at table 12-B.”
“Dammit, Naanders.”
—------------------
“I’m not cheating,” she protested.
“I’m sure you’re not, ma’am,” the bouncer said, sarcasm seeping into his voice.
“This is a luck based game-”
"Doesn't mean you don't have the ability to cheat. Explain."
She crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair. "Well you see when I was a teenager I was blessed by the powers of a luck Goddess for years of service with her, defending the world from a mind controlling maniac."
"Pfft yeah right."
"It's the truth. Whether you believe it or not is up to you. Would you like to study me as I play the next round? I'll show you my cards to explain the decisions. Watch. You can even handle my cards for me if you’d like. I don’t like being accused of things that aren’t true.”
“Ma’am-”
“Come on. Be my hands for a few games.”
He let out a sigh, standing behind her, watching her like a hawk for the first game, refusing to touch her cards as she played. He agreed to her offer for the next two games, as she stepped back slightly, only looking at the cards as he handled them.
The look he gave her after the third game almost made her laugh.
“How the hell are you so good?”
She gave a small laugh as she shrugged. "I'm just lucky."
He shook his head as he started to walk off. “‘Lucky as a ladybug’ as my old man always said.”
She snorted at that. “You have no idea.”
“Is that so, Naanders?”
She jumped, turning to find Dick standing there with his arms crossed, accompanied by another man, whom she had a sneaking suspicion was the Head of Security given the way he scrutinized her.
“Detective! How goes the investigation?”
“Fairly well, until my consultant was found cheating.”
“I was not cheating!”
“Regardless, of whether or not you were cheating, why don’t the three of us go and speak to the CEO?” the Head of Security piped up.
“Yes. Let’s!” Marinette hopped off her chair, grabbing her chips and following the two of them, purposefully ignoring the look Dick shot her as she introduced herself to Deuce.
—------------------
The trio stopped in front of a plain door, Deuce reaching up to knock, giving a quick knock.
“Mr. Owens? The detective is here to see you.”
The door opened right as Deuce went to knock again. He was barely able to stop himself from accidentally knocking on the CEO’s face.
The man in the doorway was small, ratlike in appearance as he glanced around before darting out with a smile, taking Dick’s hand in a handshake, and kissing the back of Marinette’s hand. She wrinkled her nose at that, disguising it poorly with a smile-like grimace.
“Hello, hello. I’m Colbert Owens, I run this Casino on the behest of Mr. Luthor.”
“Your name is… Colbert Owens?” Marinette asked, rubbing the back of her hand across her pants leg. He grimaced as she asked that, running a hand through his combover.
“Please, just call me Colby.”
“Mr. Owens-”
“Colby, please.”
“Colby, what can you tell us about Tory? What she did for the casino and anything that might help point us in the right direction.”
“Oh! Oh, um, she was very helpful. She’d often help out with odd jobs. Nothing too major usually. Um, just an extra pair of hands around here when we needed. We’d pull her for special events and parties that were held occasionally. She was always happy to help.”
“And what animal would you say she was?” Marinette interrupted, earning a glance from Detective Grayson.
Colby stopped wringing his hands as she said that.
“Excuse me?”
“What animal would you say she was?”
“Oh, um. I suppose she’d be a- Jesus, I don’t know. A squirrel,” he muttered, tripping over his answer before narrowing his eyes at her. “Weren’t you the cheater at 12-B.”
“I wasn’t cheating. However your dealer is working with a whale. The redhead guy at the end of the table. They have quite a cushy deal going on from the little I saw.”
“What?”
“Mhmm. She slips him the good cards. Or tries to at least. She fumbles on occasion.”
Colby looked over at Deuce.
“I’m on it. Detective, Miss Naanders, lovely meeting you. Good luck.”
“You as well.”
Colby cleared his throat, wringing his hands once more. “I have a, um, meeting here in a few minutes, is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?”
“No. No. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
“Of course. Well in that case-”
“Actually, really quick,” Marinette interjected. “Do you know of a notebook or journal Tory might have kept.”
Colby tensed for a second before shaking his head. “Er um, no. No I don’t.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Of course.”
The three bid their adieus, Dick and Marinette making it to the elevator before he turned to her.
“Okay, Marinette. What do you know?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Then what was that? About the animal and notebook.”
“Like I said. Nothing.”
Dick let out a groan. “Well at least your noncommittal responses aren’t grunts and hmms,” he muttered as Marinette laughed, leaving the elevator.
“Wait for me a minute. I have some chips to cash in.”
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
—------------------
“Finally, y’all came back!” Aderyn exclaimed, looking up to catch the pair walking in, separating as Dick went to his desk and Marinette plopped down on her couch.
“What did you guys find out?” he asked.
“She was married to Victor Champagne. Kind enough man, a few priors on him from some bad mistakes as a teen. Some petty theft and accidents,” Aderyn informed them.
“He was really nice,” Riley chimed in. “Though, it was hard breaking the news. He - uh- there were a lot of tears and I’m not the best with, you know…. Comforting others I don’t really know. But he said he last saw her yesterday morning before she left for work.”
“They have a son, Vincent. 12 years old, same age as my Benny,” Aderyn let out a little tut. “Poor thing, losing his mama like that.”
Riley scratched the back of their neck at that. “And he told us that he took Tory’s last name cause she got very happy every time she said her full name because ‘Rose Champagne’ and that we could look through any of their things if it helps find her killer.”
Dick nodded at that, opening his mouth to say something when the Chief’s sharp shout of “Grayson,” rang through.
“Coming, Chief,” he called, before turning to look at Marinette. “Please don’t burn down the precinct before I get back.”
“Me? I would never.”
She laughed as he walked off, leaning back into the couch.
“So, Marinette….”
“Yeah, Riley?”
“So much, I mean, so um, how much did you end up winning at the casino?”
“Oh about 100 thousand.”
Riley let out a small sputtering noise. “Holy- God, I could pay off the rest of my student debts and then some with that money. God, Marinette. I envy you. How’d you do it?”
She shrugged, with a small grin. “I’m just lucky.”
“No one’s that lucky.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Bean. It’s all in the Luck of the Draw.”
“Well, I sure wish I had your luck.”
She laughed, standing and stretching while giving them a Cheshire grin. “Maybe one day. Now come on.”
“Where?”
“I wanna talk to Vic. And since I’m not technically police. I should have at least one of you two with me. Aderyn, care to join?”
“You two go on ahead. I’ll hold down the fort for when Grayson gets back.”
“Alright. See you in a bit. Adieu!”
“Why are we going? I was just there?”
Marinette laughed, dragging them along. “Just come on.”
Chapter 2: Case 1: In the Cards
Chapter Text
—--------------------------------
The Champagne Residence
—------------------
Officer Riley Sanders cast a quizzical look at Marinette as they parked the car in front of the victim's home. "What are we doing here, Marinette?"
“I told you, I wanted to see Vic.”
“I know. You had the whole car ride to explain why, and you didn’t .”
Marinette chuckled as Sanders parked, hopping out almost immediately and taking in the front of the house as she wandered up the walkway. It was pretty, with a neat, well kept garden in the front. A small birdbath sat vacant on the lawn. The house seemed perfect, ripped from the pages of a home and garden magazine. Almost perfect, if it wasn't for the few weeds popping up among the flowers or the slightly too long grass.
Marinette frowned slightly. Any number of things could lead to that- a promotion or picked up shifts making someone work longer hours, an event or visit disrupting their landscaping schedule… tension in a relationship.
She needed to see the interior.
“Coming, Sanders?”
“Yep,” they sighed as they caught up and walked the last half with her.
Marinette discreetly peered through the windows as Riley knocked on the door. She glimpsed family keepsakes and mementos, from photographs lining the walls to knickknacks on the fireplace mantel. The shadow of a man crossing the hall drew her attention back to the front door as she quickly glanced away.
“Oh, Officer Sanders, is there any news? Anything I can do to help? You were just here this morning…” the vic’s husband, Vic, trailed off, his expression a mix of confusion and hopefulness.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, sir. They’re here as my supervision. I’m Marinette Naanders, a consultant for the Bludhaven P.D.”
His face fell slightly at the lack of news regarding his wife, though he offered a hand for her to shake. “Victor Champagne, though you probably already knew that. You can call me Vic,” he introduced himself with a small chuckle. “So, I have to ask. What did you do that requires you to have supervision?”
Riley snorted at that. “What hasn’t she done? First of all, she first showed up out of the blue and sni-”
“ Monsieur Champagne ,” Marinette interrupted Riley, elbowing them gently in the side. “Would you mind if I had a look around your house?”
Victor agreed and led the pair into the house, gesturing to the living room to talk as he sat on a worn couch. Riley took the arm chair across from him, while Marinette chose to wander the house in search of anything that could point to Vic as Tory's murderer.
She still didn't think it was him, given her initial observations at the scene that morning and what she knows about the husband. She also knew, however, that some people are excellent liars and deceivers. It was better to be thorough and investigate Vic like any other suspect than risk putting an innocent man behind bars because of her stubbornness and reliance on Miraculous magic.
She could feel his eyes on her as she poked around the room, when he asked, “Officer Sanders, if you don’t mind me asking, what is she doing?”
“Looking around for clues.”
“Right, but isn’t that what you and Officer Moore already did this morning? How does she spot things you didn't?”
Hearing him say spot had Marinette smiling softly to herself as she remembered her time as Ladybug. The days where clues and objects had a red and black spotted highlight. It's hard to believe beating Hawkmoth was easier than this, she thought as twisted Plagg's ring on her finger. Despite not having Tikki's Miraculous or Lucky Charms with her, she was thankful the Miraculous magic still nudged her in the right direction of what to look for.
“She’s… different. We’re not exactly sure how she does it, but Marinette tends to notice things and make connections others overlook. Say what you will about her methods, Marinette has been incredible at closing cases so far.”
Vic nodded and turned to her, “Please, do what you need to find my wife's killer.”
“I haven’t worked on a case I couldn’t close yet,” she reassured. “How about I make us some tea before we chat?”
“Electric kettle is on the counter, there’s some tea boxes in the pantry. My wife loved to share her tea, so please help yourself.”
Marinette thanked him and excused herself to the kitchen. The minute she was out of earshot of the others, she felt her jacket pocket start squirming.
“You know you can’t come out, Plagg,” she hissed as she poked around the cabinets. “And before you ask, I’m not stealing any of Vic’s cheese for you”
“Come on, Naanders , you’ve taken more from other cases. Just check the fridge for me, maybe there’s clues,” her Kwami poked his head out of her pocket.
“Anything and everything I’ve borrowed was to catch criminals and you know that, you dairy fiend,” she rolled her eyes as she filled and started the kettle.
“Alright alright, just don’t look at the fridge for a few moments, ‘kay?”
“If you so much as leave my pocket, Plagg, I’m putting you in the box for a week,” Marinette threatened, grabbing the box of green tea. It seemed to be a favorite, judging by the stockpile and hastily torn box.
“I’d be more afraid of that threat if I didn’t know how much you love that game of cat and mouse you play with the local vigilante,” the Kwami teased.
Marinette was about to retort when the appliance clicked. “We’ll continue this discussion later, just, please, let me do my job for now?”
She poured the water and started to steep the leaves, finishing up her mental notes of the kitchen. She doesn’t seem to feel anything off Balance like in previous cases where the spouse or partner was an obvious killer, but what she did feel was a pretty strong cohesive blend under all the grief and sadness. Either this was more complicated than she thought or Vic didn’t kill the vic, and she was leaning towards the latter.
Marinette picked up a family photo on the kitchen counter, little stickers of dinosaurs and a blue cartoon dog adorning the frame that she could assume were placed by Vince. It was moments like this that made this job difficult, reminding her that if not for the hand she was dealt, she wouldn’t be in this position.
“At least this is temporary,” she thought to herself as she set the picture back down.
The consultant returned to the living room a few minutes later with the tea, passing a cup to Victor and Riley.
“So, Miss Naanders, Officer Sanders tells me you’re from France? I’m surprised you transferred to Bludhaven of all places. Willingly too.”
She laughed as he said that. “It wasn’t the accent that gave it away?”
“I assumed it was French Canadian. We’re a little closer to Canada than Europe.”
Marinette smiled as she sat down next to Riley with her own cup of tea, “Unfortunately, it's a longer flight back home,”she told him, ignoring the quicker and less conventional modes of travel she had at her fingertips. “But enough about me, let's get down to business. What can you tell me about Tory as a person?”
Vic took a deep breath before beginning. “She’s the kindest person I know. Always more than willing to lend a helping hand to anyone who needs it, even if they don’t think they do. You know my sister called once, years ago, panicking about her daughter’s bake sale because she tripped and dropped the cookies. As soon as Tory heard, she immediately pulled out the ingredients to start making some new batches. Vince was around three, so he wasn’t exactly pleased he couldn’t have all the cookies,” he chuckled.
“She was also one of the smartest people I ever met, it’s crazy just how fast she was at pattern recognition and math. I think being wired that way made her both a great gambler and casino employee, and frankly I think that’s why her boss asked her to work more.”
Marinette nodded. “I spoke with Colbert Owens this morning, that's basically what he said. Though he made it seem like she was doing odd jobs around the casino”
“That could have been what she was doing,” Vic shrugged. “Tory never wanted to bring anything but card games and tricks home from work, so I just know she had skills he wanted for management or something. Though lately with how much she worked and how weird the hours could get, we’ve avoided things from the casino. She said she wanted to make the most out of family time.”
“You mentioned your son Vince earlier, where is he now?”
“With my sister and her family, they live in an apartment more in the city than here. He’s just a kid. I don’t want to scare him any further.”
Marinette nodded and took a sip of her tea, before catching a glimpse of black peeking out from under his sleeve.
“Do you and Tory have the same tattoo?” she asked.
He paused, blinking a few times as he glanced down at it for a moment, his voice strained when he asked, “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. Would you like to tell me about its meaning?”
“The Queen of Spades is for Tory, and the Ace is Vince. The queen represents intelligence, quick wit, and being calm, cool, and collected,” Vic explained, turning to grab a picture frame, holding a photo of the Champagne couple holding a newborn. “The Ace is a symbol of good fortune and luck; Tory and I were beyond lucky that we had Vince, we tried for years and were about to give up when he came into the world.”
“What about you? What does the King stand for?”
Vic hesitated before answering. “It means being fair and just, someone who is logical and reasonable”
“You don’t seem to think that's an accurate representation,” Marinette observed.
“I… I don’t know anymore. I haven’t felt very ‘logical’ or ‘reasonable’ since this morning when I, you know, found out.”
Mari cocked her head to the side and looked at Vic closer to read his energies. “You haven’t had a close loved one die before, have you?”
He and Riley looked at her, surprised. It made sense, in her eyes. There were undertones of old grief in the house, but his reaction confirmed her suspicions that they weren’t his.The overwhelming emotions she sensed now that she was focusing on them, though, were all Vic’s.
“How did you know that? Are you some kind of psychic or meta, Marinette?”
“Just observant and lucky. If it helps, no one can be expected to act or feel logical and reasonable after experiencing loss. Especially not like the loss you’re suffering.”
“Thank you.”
The three continued their questioning and conversation, with Vic confirming that he couldn’t think of anyone who would want to hurt his wife.
“It’s getting pretty late, we should probably get out of your hair,” Riley said as they checked their watch.
Vic nodded and rose from the couch in agreement. He thanked the two for stopping by and helping before getting the door for them.
“Oh,um, one last question. Who does your landscaping?” Marinette asked as Vic opened the front door for them.
“Tory, though lately she’s been busy with work and I’ve got a brown thumb. Hopefully Vince took after his mother in that regard.”
“Thank you for your time, I promise we’ll find who did this,” Marinette reassured.
The two of them walked away, giving a small wave to Vic before entering the cruiser.
“Do you want a ride back to your apartment? It’s not safe in the city at night.”
Marinette laughed. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve been here long enough to know that by now. I will take you up on that offer, though. Thank you.”
—--------------------------------
Marinette’s Apartment
—------------------
Plagg wasted no time in flying out of her bag as soon as she had said goodbye to Riley and closed her apartment door.
“Jeez Pigtails. It’s so cramped staying hidden all day like that,” he grumbled. “At least sneak me some cheese from time to time, so I’m not starving all day”
“I'm sorry, Plagg, but you know why we have to be extra careful. After…” Marinette began to feel her eyes sting and chest ache. The kwami softened and flew over to hug her cheek and comfort her.
“I know, Pigtails. Don’t worry we’ll figure this out. I’ll bet my finest camembert on that.”
She laughed, with a soft smile. “I don’t know if you can keep calling me that, I haven’t had my hair in pigtails in years. Besides, your ‘finest camembert’ comes from my paycheck.”
“Please, you make plenty off your commissions, plus this consulting gig you’ve got going on. Not to mention how much you could make off gambling.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, “You know why I can’t keep that money, Plagg.”
“Blah blah blah. How much of it is ordinary luck and skill, how much is from Sugar Cube’s influence on the universe, blah blah blah.”
“Wow, you really do listen to me.”
“Only when it has to do with my lovely cheese. And Tikki.”
“Of course. Thanks, Plagg”
“Do you want to call Adrien?” He offered, dragging her phone out of her purse.
“Not tonight. I heard there might be a miraculous at the museum, though. Maybe we should check it out?” Marinette grinned.
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
Yesterday
—------------------
Marinette walked into the precinct, cradling a steaming cup of coffee as she made her way over to the bullpen. Detective Aderyn Moore sat fiddling with a deck of cards from the casino at her desk while watching sped up videos of the casino floor. She waved at Riley, on the phone at their desk, before she made her way towards her older colleague.
“ Salut! What are you up to, Moore?”
She turned and smiled at the consultant, “Good morning, hon. I’m just checking security footage. The casino gave us footage from the tables, so Grayson and I watched some of it while you and Sanders spoke with our vic’s husband.”
“And that?” Marinette gestured to the deck in her hands.
“Trying to see if there’s anything hidden on or in the cards that would make it easier for someone to cheat or that could link to a Rogue. Have you figured anything out yet?”
“Maybe, nothing concrete yet. You?”
“Nothing useful so far,” Moore sighed. “But we’re hoping to find an upset guest or someone cheating. Anyone we could consider a suspect with reason to kill Tory.”
Marinette moved to look at her colleague’s computer monitor, glancing at the faces that sped by. “Colbert hasn’t shown up at all, has he?”
“Not that I’ve seen, but check with Grayson. We’re watching different videos.”
Marinette looked over at where Dick’s desk usually used sat, though without the detective.
"He's moving into his new office. Chief talked to him about it after you left with Riley, something about him being less distracting if he needs to run out of the precinct,” Moore adds, sensing the consultant’s question and pointing her in the right direction.
"Thanks, you’re an angel,” Marinette gave her a thumbs up as she set off to find Dick. “For all the hard work you do!”
“You’re just glad that you don’t have to do the grunt work,” she teased.
“I’m just following my contract, Detective Moore.”
—------------------
Detective Dick Grayson sighed as he finished organizing his new desk, complete with hidden vigilante gear. He looked around the room with a frown, noting how much empty space he would have to fill.
“Nice office, Dick. You could fit a really nice chaise in here.”
Dick crossed his arms and turned around to face his consultant,who looked like she was trying to be the picture of innocence. “Oh no, I’m not making this mistake again”
“Whatever do you mean, Detective Grayson?”
“The last time you said that, we ended up making a bet. Now, you have a couch in the bullpen.”
”I actually asked for a chaise,” she teased as she sat in his desk chair. “Besides, you know as well as I do that that couch is wonderful for naps.”
He couldn’t argue with that, the couch really was ridiculously comfortable. He knows he’s slept there more than a few times after a late patrol, with the police or.… otherwise. Still, he had to put his foot down on getting a second couch in the precinct, and told Marinette it wouldn’t be beneficial. Dick was already surprised Chief Zhang approved her’s in the first place, though he suspected the man had a soft spot for the consultant.
The woman dramatically sighed in disdain as Dick rolled his eyes. “Is there anything you actually want, or do you know anything else about the case? I heard from Sanders that you two spoke with our vic’s husband.”
“Well, I know it’s not Vic,” she shrugged.
“Then who is it?” At her silence, he continued, “I trust your instincts, Naanders, but we can’t rule him out ye-”
“Detective!” Sanders burst into his office. Dick noticed Marinette tense slightly and her eyes darted to the door, relaxing when she realized who it was. She often left him with more questions than answers, and how skilled she was at concealing reactions was certainly one of them.
“Sanders, where’s the fire?” Dick joked, at the officer’s franticness.
“Vic raised Tory’s life insurance a few months ago,” they said. “Just found out he bumped it up to half a million.”
“What?!”
Dick grabbed his jacket and asked them if they’d already informed Moore. He glanced back at Marinette, his consultant looked lost in thought, he could almost see the gears turning in her head.
“Sanders, with me. Naanders, you and Moore make sure the interrogation room is set up,” he ordered as he left.
“Great luck,” she waited a moment for the door to close before continuing. "You know I blame you," she muttered under her breath before following out the door.
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
Interrogation Room
—------------------
Dick watched Moore and Sanders question Victor Champagne as he tried to find anything in his words or microexpressions that might lead to him being the killer. He hadn’t noticed anything so far, and he doubted someone like Vic would have the lying skills he often saw as a vigilante. But then why would he raise the life insurance?
“Why would I kill my wife, the mother of our son? Even if I wanted to hurt Tory, which I don’t, I know that the spouse is always the first suspect and that I’d get caught. And then what happens to Vincent? Do you really think I could put my son through that? That I would ever entertain the thought?”
“You tell me. We found out about her life insurance update. Maybe she was keeping secrets. Maybe she wanted to divorce you and take your son. So you figured you’d make sure you got a good payout before getting rid of her,” Moore pressed, leaning into a ‘Bad Cop’ persona.
“Colby was the one who told me to up the insurance! He said that with the money she made, it was better for my family in the long run to invest in things like that. I don’t know. Tory was the smart one of the family. I was just trying to take some advice from a friend. Honest."
“Speaking of her earnings, we checked out Tory’s financials. Turns out she was making quite a lot for just a casino dealer, not to mention how much time she spent there outside her scheduled hours. Isn’t that suspicious?” Sanders asked as they sorted through papers on the table and filled the ‘Good Cop’ role.
“Didn’t you guys talk to her boss already? She told me he noticed her skills or something, and asked her to help with some of the behind the scenes casino work.”
Dick recalled his conversation with Colby while his colleagues questioned him. He did mention Tory picking up extra tasks at work, but the man made it seem like quick and easy tasks. Vic on the other hand, made it seem like his wife was asked specifically.
“That doesn’t line up with what Colbert said,” Marinette frowned.
“I was thinking the same. You get anything from Vic last night you haven’t already told me?”
She thought for a moment, “Tory was a giver, bent over backwards for people more than they did her.”
“Hmm.”
Dick winced internally at how much he sounded like Bruce.
The door opened, Sanders holding it for Moore. “I just don’t know if he’s innocent. I mean we’ve had to deal with some sick and twisted people here, he could be manipulating us to seem innocent,” they said as they walked in.
“But then why was he so obvious about the life insurance policy? Rookie mistake, or a set up?”
“He could be lying about the casino owner advising him. We might have enough to arrest and charge him, considering the lack of alibi, life insurance update, and robbery priors."
Dick shook his head. “The DA wouldn’t take it this early, we’re still trying to locate the murder weapon.”
"Don't forget how often spouses and partners are the ones convicted, though. There's a whole show about murderous lovers for a reason."
Marinette scoffed, "Vic is just a man who loves his wife. He’s absolutely whipped. Show me a better example of a devoted man that isn't fictional."
“My husband, if he knows what’s good for him,” Moore muttered.
“How do you figure that, Naanders?" Dick asked.
Dick could almost see the flurry of thoughts racing through her head. Maybe for once, he thought, he would be given solid evidence that would prove her point.
"There's no man cave," she shrugged.
He shouldn’t have expected so much from her.
"No man cave. That's it?" He deadpanned.
"A lot of married guys have a personal space in their house, from corners of rooms to entire basements. Vic and our vic? Every room had a perfect balance of his and her things. He has no need for a man cave, because he felt perfectly comfortable with his wife and the home they shared."
“Tory could have lied to Vic about picking up extra jobs, and gotten killed by a casino lover?”
“Or maybe Vic lied because he found out about an affair, killed his wife-”
“We don’t even have evidence there was an affair!”
Dick watched as Marinette left the observation room in exasperation, and joined Vic to ask him what first came to mind when he thought of squirrels.
"Squirrels? Like the skittish rats with fuzzy tails?" Sanders asked aloud.
“They taste pretty good, I know a delicious honey bourbon squirrel recipe,” Moore smiled fondly, in contrast to Sander’s horrified look.
“You’ve cooked and eaten them before?”
“Bagged ‘em too.”
"Savers... like the phrase ‘squirreling away,’” Vic answered after a moment, pulling the three cops away from discussing Moore’s concerning cooking and back to the man on the other side of the glass.
“Do you know if your wife kept any journals or notebooks, hidden or otherwise?” Marinette continued.
“No, she didn’t. She hated writing stuff down, it hurt her wrists. She did when she had to, though.”
Marinette stared at him for a moment before she turned to the mirror and nodded, signaling that she thinks he’s telling the truth.
“Why is that relevant? Nothing has had anything to do with journaling this far?” Sanders asked.
“Naanders asked Colby when we went to the casino yesterday. He tensed up when she asked.” Dick explained.
“And whether Tory’s hiding anything or not, Colbert’s worried that she did. Vic feels sure she didn’t, so if she did, it has nothing to do with her husband,” his consultant said as she walked back into the room.
Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. They were already over 24 hours into the case, and if nothing pointed to either of their two suspects they were back at square one.
“You two look into Colby and the casino’s finances as best you can. The casino might look clean but it probably bounces around shells, considering its holding company is LexCorp. Naanders, we’re going back to the casino.”
The grin she gave him at that made him question several of his life choices.
Chapter Text
—--------------------------------
Luthor Casino
Bludhaven, NJ
Earlier today
—------------------
“No gambling this time, Naanders,” Dick warned as he and Marinette entered the casino.
She looked around the room and took in the flashing lights and cheers of victory, before she spotted the security guard she and the detective spoke with before.
“No problem,” she said, and pointed out the familiar face.
“Detective Grayson, Marinette. Any progress on the case?” Deuce Coinne asked as the pair approached the head of security.
She noticed something off about him, some kind of nervousness maybe? A glance at her boss told her he saw something as well, but nothing that put the cop on edge.
Dick shook his head, “Nothing concrete yet, but we’re working on it. Is Mr. Owens in today?”
“He just arrived, he’s in his office.”
“At four in the afternoon?”
“Considering peak is in three hours, I would say this is pretty early for him.”
“Any reason he came in early, then?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Maybe you could go talk to him while I look around here,” Marinette suggested, shooting Dick a look.
He seemed to understand the message and nodded, “Good idea, you didn’t have much time to ask around yesterday, did you?”
She heard him loud and clear, “I suppose not, I was… busy.”
He cracked a smile and shook his head at that, and turned to head up to Colby’s office. “You know where to find me, Naanders,” he waved.
Marinette stood by Deuce and scanned the casino floor, occasionally looking at the man to see if he would confess what was on his mind. It was a trick teachers often used: sit in silence long enough, and someone will eventually say something.
“Listen, I know I’m technically on Lexcorp payroll, but I’m clean.”
Marinette eyed the head of security. Not many people, employees of his or not, knew of Luthor’s shadier dealings. Even fewer would hint towards it to someone who worked with the law. Hell, even she thought he was just some rich businessman until she started doing some Guardian work and personal investigations.
“If you’re looking to give any casual advice, I’m listening,” she prompted him to continue.
He looked around and lowered his voice, “Most of our staff and regulars could tell you that Colby tends to leave around three in the morning, since our peaks usually end around two. Common knowledge, of course. Well, one can then assume that as a safety precaution there would be more eyes on the boss as he leaves than say… the loading docks.”
“Interesting. Could one also assume there would be more cameras outside than inside of a Luthor owned building?”
Deuce looked surprised at that, and gave a nod. “Hard to say if that’s a Luthor thing, but that would be correct.”
“Well, either way, is there anything that would bring your boss back to the office after he’s left?”
He thought about it for a moment and shrugged, “Only if there’s a vault security concern, really. He makes a point to avoid coming in any more than he has to.”
“Hmm. And did Tory have a space, personal or office, around here?”
“Officially, no. But I have seen her working alone in one of the conference rooms fairly often the last few months. I noticed some more decorations there lately, too.”
“And that conference room would be where?”
“Down the hall from Colby's office, want me to lead you there?”
“No need, thank you Mr. Coinne”
“Anytime.”
----------------
“Tell me again what kind of side work you had Tory doing?” Dick asked as he continued questioning the casino owner.
“Oh just menial tasks really. Anytime I or other members of staff needed an extra set of hands. Of course, I offered her a room or to share my own office should she need it. Only the best for my employee’s after all,” Colbert Owens grinned, something Dick decided he was not a fan of.
He kept a straight face as the other man continued, “But, she refused. Never wanted to ask too much of anyone, instead preferring to lend out a helping hand. That’s how she ended up picking up jobs around here.”
“We were led to believe you asked for her specifically,” Dick raised a brow.
He heard a slight creak of the wood floors by the door, though he didn’t see anything in his periphery. Colby didn’t seem to notice anything
“Who told you that? And why would I show favoritism like that? She was nice. Easy on the eyes of course. But she was no mathematician,” he laughed, palms out in a placating gesture. Dick noted that that was typically a sign of openness and honesty, conflicting with the concealed worry in the man’s facial expressions.
“As this is an ongoing investigation, I’m not at liberty to say. Did you need a mathematician for anything around here?”
Colby’s eyes widened slightly, “No. No, nothing that I or any of my management teams can’t handle.”
“It’s interesting you specifically said she wasn’t one then,” his consultant piped up, leaning against the door frame. Colby jumped in surprise, and put a hand on his own chest.
“Jesus, lady. Warn a guy next time.”
“I don’t need to warn murderers,” she retorted, and walked over to join him.
Colby straightened his spine and his expression shifted, any fear Dick noticed earlier was gone, replaced by defensive anger. He looked at Marinette confused and tried to read her expression to figure out her plan, but all he could glean was calm confidence as she joined them, perching on the arm of Dick’s chair.
“That is a baseless accusation. I’ll entertain you kids until I’m annoyed, and you’re toeing the line. Don’t forget I’m employed under billionaire Lex Luthor, while you both are public servants who couldn’t afford to gamble at my casino,” Colby smiled. “Without dirty tricks, at least,” he added with a pointed look at Marinette.
“Forgive me for being lucky,” she deadpanned in response.
“He’s our killer, Naanders?” Dick raised a brow as he looked between the two.
“Please, with what evidence?” He scoffed.
Mari hesitated and turned to him, looking unsure about whether she should say something. He frowned slightly, studying her, but she was a deceptively closed book.
“Do you really think I killed my employee?” Colby glanced between the investigators and straightened his spine. “And again, with what evidence?”
“Tory wrote down things she considered important, so I have a hunch that we’ll find evidence around here. Evidence like a journal she could have left that would implicate you.”
“Well, if you don’t want me to call security you two can see yourselves out. I refuse to speak with you pigs any further until you have a warrant to search the premises.”
Dick took a breath as he stood, offering the man a placating smile. “I’m sorry for any baseless accusations my consultant made. I assure you it was not our intention. Thank you for your help,” he apologized, grabbing Marinette’s arm and dragged her out of the office.
-----
“What was that, Naanders?” Dick demanded as they walked out of the casino.
“He irks me. He’s irksome. Plus, I need him on edge,” she shrugged.
“You and me both, Naanders,” He sighed. “But why do you need him on edge?”
“Just hoping he slips up. You should check to see if the others got anything.”
“What are you, my boss?” Dick joked as he dialed the unit. “Moore, have you found anything on the casino yet?”
“Not much, all the public information I could find checked out. Sanders is working on getting a warrant for the finances. Colbert give y’all anything?”
“Tell them to get a search warrant for the casino and Colby’s office, too. Someone made the suspect upset.” He shot Marinette a pointed look as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “We don’t have anything concrete on him, but he was acting very suspicious.”
Marinette took the phone as they slid into the car, and stuck her tongue out at Dick.
“Hey, what kind of house does Colby own? Big with good security?” She asked.
“Looks like it. Want me to add that to the list of warrants?” Moore half joked.
“No no, just trying to… figure out how we can arrest him.”
He had an uneasy feeling she meant her way, and not the legal way. Sure, in some walkabout way the clues all tied together with Marinette’s intuition, but she had a knack for getting on lawyers’ nerves.
“Oh, wait, drop me off here,” she passed his phone back to him as he stopped at a red light.
“Why?” He asked suspiciously, and looked around for what could have caught her attention.
“Bookstore, I need something for a project. You have your killer, so my work here is done,” she shrugged.
“Is project a code word for a scheme you're planning?”
He could stop her from unbuckling and make her come back to the precinct with him. Maybe see if she noticed anything when they get the warrants. But a part of him was curious to see what wild scheme she had planned.
“Not always. Good luck with all the boring procedural stuff,” Marinette grinned and slammed the door shut. She had work to do.
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
—------------------
Dick was right about how the casino finances would look clean. He and the unit had spent hours trying to find anything to link to the murder, but nothing stood out. The Champagne’s seemed to start making significantly more money around when Tory took the extra jobs, though he couldn’t find anything shady about it. All their finances were above water.
And there still was no sight or sound of his consultant and knowing Marinette that was only slightly more concerning than it probably should be.
The phone only rang twice before a bright voice answered.
“ Hello? ”
“Hey Naanders.”
“Dick, What’s going on? Did you get the warrants? ”
“No. Not yet. Frankly I don’t know how we’re going to get these warrants. What about you, Naanders? What are you up to?”
“ Nothing much. ”
“Marinette,” his voice took on a warning tone. He could picture the grin on her face as he said that.
“It’s just a small project. Don’t worry about it. ”
Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair as she said that. “You know that only worries me. Please tell me it’s not work related.”
“ Mmmm, no comment. It’s fine. You’ll see. ”
“Naanders….”
She laughed. “ It’s fine. You worry too much, Grayson. See you later. ”
“Naanders-”
The soft click of the phone hanging up was the only thing that answered him.
“Dammit, Marinette,” he muttered to himself, turning back to all the papers in front of him.
—--------------------------------
Luthor Casino
Bludhaven, NJ
—------------------
The soft beam of a flashlight cut through the empty room, illuminating its contents as it darted about. The conference room had sat empty and unused since Vic’s death, the hints of her presence still lingered in the room.
Empty chairs at an empty table. The lamp in the corner. That was standard. But the table to the side, traditionally used for refreshments or pamphlets, held a few folders, a small picture of her family together, the spine of a book poking up between the table and the wall.
That was what stood out.
Flipping through the journal revealed the gold mine. It was exactly what they were looking for.
“Come on… come on…” a voice grumbled in frustration as a lighter clicked repeatedly. When it finally lit, they wasted no time in bringing it up to the notebook when the light turned on.
“What are you up to, Colbert? Not destroying evidence are you?” The lamp illuminated the room as the chair spun around to reveal Marinette sitting there, gently stroking a stuffed cat.
“Nothing!” he yelled, throwing the journal, now flaming, into the air. “You- You shouldn’t even- How-”
Marinette had a sinking feeling in her chest as she watched the notebook sail through the air, landing on the curtain rod - perfectly out of reach for both her and the newly confirmed killer. As he turned to her and began trying to plead innocent, she noticed a black blur out of the corner of her eye dart out to grab the notebook.
That victory was short lived, as Marinette unfortunately learned that Colby’s drapes provided great kindling. He paused mid-sentence to look between her and the growing flames, before bolting out the door.
“ Merde. This is a disaster,” Marinette groaned as she followed him out of the building and dialed her Dick’s number.
“ Marinette ?”
“Dick! Hey! You guys are close to the casino, right?” Marinette tried to act casual as she sprinted down the stairs after Colby.
“Yeah, just found some-”
Dick was cut off by the blaring sound of the fire alarm as it finally started up.
“I’m going to need you at the casino ASAP. Colbert did it and I can prove it. Anywaygottarunbye!”
“Naanders what the hell-”
Marinette cut him off herself this time and hung up as Colby reached the bottom of the stairs. She used her momentum and took a flying leap of faith over the rail, and landed on the man. He groaned in pain from the force slamming him into the ground.
“You’re under arrest… as soon as we get out of the building.”
Marinette chose to ignore the fact that she didn’t have the authority to make arrests.
—--------------------------------
As she finished up her retelling of events to the unit and Chief, Detective Moore looked between her and the notebook, “Wait, so this is what you did all day? While the rest of us were mucking about in the weeds trying to find anything on Colbert, you wrote a fake journal?”
“Is anyone else aware of this?” Chief Zhang asked, grabbing it to gently leaf through the lightly toasted pages.
“Only whoever is within earshot, Colby seems to think it’s real,” she shrugged and watched the man drive off in the back of a cruiser.
Zhang nodded, “Good work, Naanders. We might be able to get a confession out of Mr. Owens.” He patted her on the shoulder and walked back to his car, still holding the forged evidence.
“How did you know he would try to burn the journal?”
“Oh, I didn’t. I was just hoping to catch him doing something to get rid of it. Or at least steal it.” she shrugged. “I just wish he wasn’t a rich Casino owner, I couldn’t tell if his sliminess was because of that, or murder.”
“You accused the man because he’s ‘slimy’?”
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
Dick blew out a long breath shaking his head. “Only you Naanders. Only you.”
His only reply was laughter as he walked away.
—--------------------------------
Marinette’s Apartment
—------------------
“Thanks for taking care of that wire transfer for me, Max,” Marinette looked out at the city from her balcony, grateful that someone on her team was skilled with technology. As decent as she was, she couldn’t hold a candle to what the horse hero could do.
“It was easier than trying to pull money out of someone’s account. I’m assuming the funds were related to your casino case?”
Marinette smiled and turned in the direction of her co-worker's apartment.
Across the city, Riley Sanders sighed as they saw an email notification from their student loan company and sat at their desk to pay off a little more. Their eyes widened as they saw a lack of balance due and refreshed the page, thinking that maybe there was a glitch. They opened up their phone to check the email and froze at the message, which congratulated them for paying off their loans.
“Yeah, it looks like Tikki’s luck is still with me.”
“Sounds like Plagg’s was with you too, I saw reports that the building was on fire.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” she groaned, glaring at the kwami snacking on some cheese. She swears, she had no idea how Adrien managed to put up with him.
“At least we solved the case,” she sighed. “Colbert panicked when we took him in, thinking Luthor wouldn’t protect him in favor of his flambé subsidiary. Not only did we get a confession, but Detective Grayson also uncovered evidence of the victim's DNA both inside and outside one of Colbert's vehicles.”
She didn’t know how he found it, but she knew better than to ask questions. There have been plenty of cases where she had Plagg’s help in locating evidence, and Dick didn’t usually ask. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, or however the saying went, she figured.
“Anyway, since it was hidden, the District Attorney intends to pursue charges of tampering with evidence, first-degree murder, and obstruction of justice. He said he would try for tampering with witnesses, given Colbert's attempt to frame the victim's husband by suggesting he increase his wife’s life insurance policy, but we don’t know if it’ll hold.”
“You sound like a real detective now, ‘Naanders.’ How long do you think you’ll be at this?”
Marinette stiffened and gripped her balcony railing, her voice taking a steel edge. “As long as it takes for me to-”
“I meant after that,” he said gently. “Do you think you’ll keep working with your unit?”
“That’s assuming they won’t figure me out first, and then fire me at best.”
“The only things that have been falsified are your previous police credentials and your last name. You’ve closed every case you’ve been put on, which makes you an incredibly valuable asset. Considering the meta crimes unit has yet to realize who you are, there’s a 82.7% chance you solve our case with no problems.”
“That’s with what they currently know, I’ve only been here a few months. What are my chances if they find more evidence?”
“If our hypothesis is correct in that the Miraculous magic is helping you conceal this identity, no change. If they find undeniable proof, though… I’m not sure. There’s too many different factors for me to consider for an accurate calculation, especially with your boss. Detective Grayson is a skilled detective, if anyone can realize who you are, it’s him.”
Marinette could hear the frustration in his voice. She knew the uncertainty of this situation put her team on edge, and prayed to the Kwami that they can all make it out of this without any more problems.
“It’s not your or anyone’s fault that this is happening, Max. None of us expected this when you all had me take a break, and I’m thankful for the time off I had,” she reassured. “Besides, Dick doesn’t seem like the type of person to shut us down.”
“I just hope you’re right.”
—--------------------------------
Dick’s Apartment
Bludhaven, NJ
—------------------
“ What’s up, Dick?”
“Hey, Timmy! How are things going over in Gotham?”
“ Nothing new to report here. B’s out on patrol with Damian. Jason’s out doing his thing. I’m researching tonight as I gather you picked up on. How’d your casino case go?”
“Based on your tone, I think you know already.”
“ I have to meet your consultant sometime.”
“So long as you don’t introduce her to Bernard, we’ll see.”
“ I make no promises. Anyways, aren’t you going to ask about what you really called about?”
Dick laughed. “Can’t I call to check in from time to time?”
“ We both know you’re a bigger fan of in person check-ins, Dick.”
“You got me there. Still no results on the ligature marks from the strangulation cases, huh?” Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he checked Batcave files on his laptop.
“Nothing yet. Isn’t that case being worked on by a different unit?”
“Yeah, but something about this is rubbing me the wrong way. I mean what kind of material exists that the computer hasn’t analyzed yet?”
“This one, apparently. Have you considered asking your consultant? You’ve said so yourself that her skills are better than most, if not all, of your coworkers. Maybe she would know something.”
“I thought about it, but I don’t want to risk her safety in case this becomes a… family problem.”
“Speaking of, don’t you have patrol tonight?”
Dick glanced at the clock and realized he should have left way sooner, “Crap, yeah. Talk to you later, Tim.”
“Tell the Catwoman wannabe I said hi,” his brother teased.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Have fun. Be safe out there, Dick.”
“Always am.”
Dick laughed at his little brother’s scoff as the two hung up, before suiting up for his nightly activities.
Notes:
Hey Y'all!
So sorry for the wait! Life's been hectic lately! But we're back (hopefully)! and hope you enjoy! <3
Chapter Text
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
—------------------
“I come bearing gifts!”
Marinette's declaration to the bullpen caused several heads to pop up from their desks, some even being detectives and officers not on her team. She proudly marched over and set her box of baked goods down on a table, before she hopped up to perch on the edge of her desk.
She glanced around at everyone, no one eager to make the first move, before she made a small gesture to encourage them. “Go on. I didn’t slave away in my kitchen for no one to eat my croissants.”
“Jesus Naanders, how long did this take you? You must have made dozens,” Aderyn commented as she grabbed a pastry.
“Eh, time flies when you're in the kitchen,” she shrugged.
“Not when you're making dinner for three picky kids,” the detective grumbled before she walked back to her seat.
“Naanders, off your desk. Be professional,” Dick ordered as he walked in, gently swatting her head with the folder in his hands. His eyes immediately darted to the box next to her, and he picked up a chocolate croissant.
Riley snickered as the consultant moved to sit on her couch with a pout. “Naanders and professional don't belong in the same sentence.”
“Well, I guess I won't be making any more professional grade baked goods then,” Marinette said flippantly, much to the younger officer’s chagrin.
Dick ignored Riley's protests and took a bite. “You made these?” He asked, eyes wide.
“Mhmm.”
“Well, thank you,” Her boss said, practically melting as he ate it. “No one tell Alfred I said this, but I think these are better than his.”
Marinette raised an eyebrow at that. “Alfred? As in your dad’s butler, Alfred?”
“And the one who banned Grayson from the kitchen,” Aderyn chimed in.
“Moore…” Dick narrowed his eyes in warning.
“Oh bless my heart, did you not tell her? My apologies,” she seemed sincere, but Marinette had worked with the woman long enough to know it wasn’t.
Riley snickered at that before they turned to stage whisper to Marinette. “Hey, maybe you could give Detective Grayson some tips. You know, teach him how not to set cereal on fire.”
Marinette blanched as she spun to face Dick. “Please tell me they’re joking.” She watched in growing horror as he avoided her gaze, ducking his head slightly as he scratched the back of his neck. “How the hell did you manage that? Merde . I thought I had friends who were bad at baking but that, that is a new low I didn’t even imagine possible.”
Dick shrugged, moving for a second baked good. “What can I say? I have a gift.”
Aderyn scoffed at that and leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. “More like a curse.”
Marinette couldn’t help but voice her agreement as she leaned back on her couch. She pulled out some embroidery to give her hands something to do.
As soon as she started stitching, one of the new officers walked in the room. “Croissants! Who brought these?” He asked excitedly.
“Naanders brought them in for us,” Dick answered, nodding his head in her direction.
“Hey! Naanders! How much do I owe you for one of these?”
“They’re on the house.”
The officer’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right? I couldn’t, these look expensive.”
“They’re free, I already had all the ingredients. I figured I should use them up before they go bad.” Marinette insisted.
“You made these?”
She bit back a sigh and looked up from her embroidery at that. “No need to sound so surprised. I grew up baking with my parents. You’re all benefiting from an old habit of mine. Besides, it’s in my name to be good at baking.”
“What do you mean by that?” Riley asked, confused.
Marinette froze. Merde . She hadn’t meant to say that. She sat there for a minute sweating as she felt Dick stare at her, reading her. If he figures out I’m lying, I’m screwed-
Dick broke her from her thoughts as he laughed.”Naanders, like naan bread. That’s funny.”
She let out a breath before giving Dick a small laugh. “Exactly. You can only imagine how many times I heard that growing up,” she lied. “Started making my own jokes about it.”
She glanced over, not surprised to find Dick still looking at her staring at her. She knew that look well. Like there was something more to the story. She wasn’t often on the receiving end, he usually gave it to people they investigated. He looked like he was about to say something when the phone rang.
Marinette let out another small sigh of relief as he answered the phone, and moved to put her embroidery away when he hung up.
“We've got a case.”
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Convention Center
Bludhaven, NJ
—------------------
“‘A Cut Above.’ Cute name for a sewing competition,” Naanders commented as she read the sign outside the convention hall.
The unit flashed their badges and IDs to a security guard and uniformed officer who stood by the entrance to block it off from the public. The people milling about whispered amongst themselves, gossiping about what happened inside. Dick noticed his consultant’s eyes were unfocused, which he presumed was to see if she could glean anything from the rumors.
Once they managed to get inside, the senior detective immediately started to take note of the room.
His attention was first drawn to a cluster of circle tables and chairs that took up a quarter of the space immediately to the side. At one, a ginger girl, maybe 12 or 13 years old, loudly sobbed uncontrollably as her parents and other attendees comforted her.
Half the room had two rows of rectangular folding tables for the contestants, each with a dress form, sewing machine, various bolts of fabric, and other tools of the trade that he vaguely recognized. In the walkway between the rows stood three fashionably dressed individuals who spoke in hushed tones. Dick assumed they were judges or event coordinators, considering their attire and the tablets they held.
Across the room, the last quarter of the area held what looked to be convention merchandise for sale as well as a help desk. What caught Dick’s eye was the man talking to first responders. It was hard to tell from a distance, but it looked like he was staring at the doors to the stairs where he was told the body was found. The detective assumed he was the one who found the body, given how shaken up he appeared and his proximity to the vic.
Dick turned to face his unit, who mostly stood at the ready for his orders. Marinette had wandered off a paces, looking at the set up for each of the contestants. “Moore, you go talk to the kid. See if you can calm her down, maybe she saw something and is trying to process. Sanders I want you to try and talk to the guy with the EMTs. Naanders,” Dick called her name, drawing her attention from the fabric she was studying before continuing. “We’re going to check out the body.”
—------------------
“What are we looking at here?” Dick asked the coroner as he and Naanders entered the stairwell.
“Detective Grayson, Miss Naanders,” the doctor greeted the pair. She walked up the stairs to them while a forensic photographer snapped some pictures.
The vic lay sprawled upside down a few steps from the landing below. He looked young, early to mid twenties. Blood stained most of the front of his white button up with tears that suggested stabbing.
“This is Mr. Fabian Castor, one of the designers competing this weekend. To state the obvious, he was stabbed ten times in the chest sometime between nine and eleven this morning. The momentum carried him down the rest of this flight of stairs. Looks like it was done with a knife, judging by the tears in his shirt,” she explained, then sighed. “Honestly, I expected him to have been killed by fabric scis- what are you doing?!” The coroner cut herself off, looking affronted as she turned her attention towards his consultant.
On her hands and knees, sniffing the vic’s body.
“Not again,” Dick groaned. “I don’t know how you smell anything but cologne and blood down there.”
“Garlic…” she muttered with a frown as her eyes darted between Castor’s face and hands. With a hum, she stood up and wiped the dust off her hands and onto her pants. “You can wrap up here, Dick. I’m going to check the catering options.”
He rolled his eyes. “Some of us like to finish one thing before moving onto the next, you know.”
“Right, that’s why I found a half eaten batburger in your car,” she teased. He opened his mouth to retort, but Naanders was already halfway out. She stuck her tongue out at him, and closed the door.
It wasn’t his fault one of his new rogues interrupted his dinner.
—------------------
The heavy stairwell door slammed shut behind Dick when he left the coroner and photographer to finish their work. He scanned the room for his unit, and started making his way towards Sanders when he was stopped by one of the people he thought could be a judge.
“Excuse me, Mister Officer, will this little investigation take long?” The RuPaul wannabe asked haughtily, placing a hand on his hip.
Dick could immediately feel his patience drop, but kept his professional mask up as the other two approached. “And you are?”
“Harlow de Luxe, event coordinator and head judge. This is our technical judge Camille Niang, and Valentina Montgomery, our design and trend expert.”
“Detective Dick Grayson,” he introduced. “Were any of you close with the victim?”
They shook their heads. “No, we didn’t even meet them before gathering here. Competitors were asked to send us their portfolios. Any that we liked were invited to this round,” Niang said.
“I see,” Dick nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you could send me a list of those who were accepted and rejected.”
“Do you think one of them could have done it?” Montgomery asked with wide eyes.
“Hard to say this early. Do you-”
“Ohhh My God you guys, are we going to have to cancel the contest?” Montgomery asked worriedly as she turned to her fellow judges.
“Absolutely not!” De Luxe scoffed. “We have gotten too far for it to all be for naught. Mr. Castor may have lost his chance, but we still have a dozen other designers here.”
Niang folded her arms and took a step towards the man with a glare. “‘Lost his chance,’” she quoted. “More like lost his life! Harlow, one of our top competitors was actually murdered! And you seriously want to go through with this?”
The judges turned away from Dick to start bickering amongst themselves. It was at that moment that Naanders returned with a plate of fruit, crackers, and cheese.
“What did you do this time?” She teased, popping an apple slice with cheese in her mouth.
Dick rolled his eyes. “Big talk coming from you. They’re arguing about whether to cancel the event or not. Thoughts?”
“I say let it run. The killer could have been trying to get rid of the competition.”
“Or a judge trying to help someone else win…” He hummed in consideration. “You think someone here for the event did it?”
“I don’t think there’s many other options,” she shrugged. “But I do need to talk to more people.”
Dick put his hand on her shoulder as she started to approach the judges. “Hang on, let’s see if Sanders or Moore got anything before we deal with… them,” he suggested, steering her away towards the other two members of the unit walking over.
Sanders looked at the arguing judges nervously, while Moore raised an eyebrow at the consultant.
“Goodness Naanders, what buttons did you push this time?”
“Ask Dick, it wasn’t me this time,” she grinned.
He opened his mouth to defend himself, when the crying girl he saw earlier let out a loud sob from the other side of the room. The unit turned to her, and Dick noticed that while the other two looked on with sympathy, Naanders seemed lost in thought.
“Poor kid, it can’t be easy to see this kind of thing. Bless her heart.” Detective Moore sighed with a hand on her cheek.
“Was she the one who found the body?” Naanders asked.
Moore shook her head as Sanders answered. “The brother did, Sean Castor. But the kid-”
“Amy, her name is Amy Cinos. She said she heard Sean scream and rushed over ” Moore interjected.
Sanders nodded before they continued, “Right, anyway Sean said he was looking for Fabian. They use one of those family GPS tracking apps, so he said it didn’t take long to find his brother.”
“Did he say if he noticed anything odd about the rest of the family’s locations?” Dick asked, and Sanders shook their head.
“Not really, but he did mention his dad’s location was turned off. And that he never really approved of Fabian being in this competition, said it was ‘too girly for a man,’ to quote.”
Naanders rolled her eyes, and Dick could tell she was biting her tongue to refrain from launching into a rant. He put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down. She gave a small huff at that before shooting him a small smile in thanks as he pulled away, refocusing on Riley.
“Does he think his dad could have killed him?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, he just looked so shaken up. I told him not to leave town, and that we’ll be in touch.”
Dick nodded, then turned to Moore. “What about the girl, Amy?”
“I wasn’t able to get a word out of her, but her parents said when they heard Sean scream she grabbed her Girl Scouts vest and rushed over. They think she thought she might have a badge that could have helped,” she sighed. “Poor girl, kids shouldn’t have to see things like that.”
Thoughts of his family, especially his brother Damian, the former literal assassin, flashed through his mind. It was comments like that that reminded Dick of how… different his family was.
“No, they shouldn’t,” Naanders agreed with a frown.
“Something on your mind?” He asked her.
Her eyes scanned to look at all the potential suspects in the room. Her eyes lingered on the crowd of competitors, before they moved to the ceiling.
“There’s cameras in here.”
Moore grinned. “Well would you look at that. Luck is on our side, folks.”
“What do you wanna bet they were cut before the crime?” Officer Sanders commented, half-jokingly.
“Sugar if you just jinxed us, Lord almighty neither Heaven nor Hell could help the karma coming back your way.”
“Don’t look at me like I want them cut! I want an easy case with video evidence too!”
“Haven’t I made your cases easier? That’s why I was hired, no?” Naanders teased with a raised eyebrow.
“Hon, we love you, and you do make solving the crime easier. But you’ve also given us unholy amounts of paperwork. I didn’t even know we had some of those forms before you showed up.”
Dick nodded in agreement with his fellow detective and internally weighed the pros and cons of his consultant. On the one hand, he had no idea how her last unit controlled her. He had spoken to a Captain Raincomprix a few months ago when Naanders first joined the unit, and the young woman laughed at his exasperation with her antics. She explained that Marinette was incredibly observant and always knew the best way to get a job done, despite the fact that she was rather unconventional at best. The captain had warned him that his new consultant would keep him on his toes, and at the time he didn’t realize how right she was.
Although, on the other hand, she made him more motivated to drag himself out of bed and go to his day job. He used to dread the cycle of finding a body, investigating, finding the killer, and putting them behind bars. Rinse and repeat. Then Naanders showed up. She immediately livened up the precinct, both literally and figuratively. The office plants started to grow better under her care, and his coworkers seemed friendlier after eating some of her delicious baked goods.
Sure, he’s had to send a couple gift baskets to the DA’s office because her debatably legal schemes ruined a few parts of their arguments and cases.
He was happy to keep sending them.
Notes:
"Hey y'all! We're alive with a new chapter! So sorry about the year wait. Life and work really got in the way. "
Egg note: Apples and harvarti cheese are delicious together
Chapter Text
—--------------------------------
Bludhaven Police Department
—------------------
Marinette watched the unit typing away at their desks, likely looking for phone or credit card records or something equally boring. She was grateful she’d been hired as a consultant. She much preferred her couch and projects that helped her think through cases, rather than having to dig through the muck for evidence.
She glanced over at Dick using what was technically her desk. When she had asked him about it, he said he was just used to keeping an eye on her. Still, she had a feeling he also liked working in the same space as his team.
“Uh, hey Boss? Want the good news or bad news?” Riley called out sheepishly, interrupting the team’s silence as they peeked out above their monitor.
Dick gave a small sigh as he looked over at the officer. “Give me the good news first.”
“So, uh, the good news is that the convention center's security sent us the files of their camera footage. It's a bit blurry, but it looks like our vic had a pretty heated conversation with that head judge pretty early this morning, around seven.”
“Okay. So what's the bad news?”
“The… footage went out around the time of the murder,” Riley winced as Aderyn groaned, and quickly continued. “They did say they launched an internal investigation on it, but are happy to let us poke around if need be. They didn’t sound too optimistic about finding anything, though.”
Dick hummed. “Harlow de Luxe, huh?”
“He could have been trying to convince Fabian to pull out of the competition,” Marinette suggested.
“Why would he do that?” Aderyn asked.
She just shrugged. “People do weird things when it comes to fashion competitions. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that’s happened, and it won’t be the last.”
“Well then, we should go talk to him. Moore, Sanders, keep looking into the other judges and contestants. Naanders, you’re with me.”
Marinette grinned and rolled off her couch, coming to lean on her desk next to where Dick sat.
“Ready when you are, Detective Grayson,” she teased.
He stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of her chair, gesturing for her to lead the way.
“After you, Miss Naanders.”
—--------------------------------
Harlow de Luxe’s Apartment
Bludhaven, NJ
—------------------
Dick reached forward, knocking a few times before stepping back. Marinette thought Harlow’s apartment seemed like a pretty standard place on the outside, at least compared to the other American apartments she’s seen. Nothing but the number on the door set it apart from the others in the hall.
“Mr. de Luxe? It’s Detective Grayson and Marinette Naanders with Bludhaven PD. We have a few questions to ask.” He called out, holding his badge near the peephole.
The door opened, revealing Harlow in a more casual outfit than the loud and glittery suit from earlier. He beckoned them in, holding the door open for the two. “Yes, yes. I figured. Come in. Can I offer you two any refreshments? Tea? Coffee? Liquor?”
“Coffee is fine. Thank you.” Dick thanked him.
Harlow made his way towards the kitchen. “Good choice, I just made a pot. And for your partner?” He asked, reaching for a mug.
“What kind of liquor do you have?” She asked innocently.
Dick narrowed his eyes at her. “Naanders…” He warned as she laughed.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’ll have some tea, thank you.”
“Oh, of course,” he said before handing the two their drinks. “Anything for our hardworking officers of the law. Please, take a seat. I’ll be right out with some food as well.” De Luxe smiled at the two before he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two in the living room.
Marinette frowned slightly and turned to Dick, who was settling into a couch. “Did you also get an, ah, ass kissing vibe from him?”
He chuckled. “I was going to say brown-nosing, but that works too. Doesn’t seem like he’s planning to run while we’re here, though. Think he’s hiding something?”
“Definitely,” she nodded, then stood up from the armchair to look around in hopes of finding out what that something was.
“Careful with that mug, I don’t want you to spill on anything. Want me to hold it for now?” Dick offered, holding a hand out.
She scoffed and took a sip with a pointed look. “I’m not that clumsy. Not anymore, at least.”
He raised an eyebrow, and leaned back with crossed arms. “Right. And how many times have you tripped over your own feet in the bullpen?”
“As if you’ve never tripped before. Surely with the amount of siblings you have….” she trailed off, eyes honing in on a pen displayed on a side table. “Speaking of pens…”
It looked like just a sleek and modern pen. She picked it up to take a closer look at it, trying to see where it’s from.
“Hey, do you recognize this? I think it's a… Montblanc Meisterstück?” She asked Dick, reading the label and holding it out for him to see.
He leaned forward to get a closer look at it, tilting his head to the side. “Just that it’s expensive. Why?”
“Something about it is familiar to me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though.”
“Put your finger on what?” Harlow inquired, walking back in with a tray of expertly sliced vegetables.
“This pen of yours that you have displayed here.”
“Oh, I was given that as a gift from Gabriel Agreste himself,” Harlow proudly informed them, setting the tray down before sitting down across from Dick.
Marinette felt a flash of rage hearing that man’s name, clearing her throat and taking a sip of her drink to try and cover it up as she set the pen down. Of course it looked familiar, Adrien has around a dozen of the same ones. Gifted to him by Nathalie .
She ignored the look Dick shot her as she swallowed, plastering a smile on her face as she grit her teeth. “Did he now?” she asked, coming to join Dick on the couch.
“Oh yes. Before all that nasty business happened, of course! I mean, who would have guessed? But that’s in the past now and good riddance! Can’t say I was disappointed to hear what happened to him. Brutal as it was, he certainly had that karma headed his way. But I digress. It was a wonderful trip to Paris, regardless. Managed to meet some of the best designers there. I did miss MDC though, which is such a shame. I was truly looking forward to meeting them.”
Marinette bristled, but tried to reign herself in. She’s never been a fan of people name-dropping any of her alter egos. “I didn’t realize she did meet and greets.”
Harlow blinked. “Pardon?”
“You know,” she prompted, making sure to keep her tone light and casual. “MDC. She doesn’t tend to go to meet-and-greets outside of business purposes. I’ve heard she keeps a tight knit circle.”
Harlow blinked at her as she said that. “R-right. But I simply figured that if someone as, uh, reclusive as Gabriel Agreste would come out and network, then surely -”
“Surely you aren’t comparing Gabriel Agreste and MDC,” Marinette interrupted. “ Surely you understand what you could be implying, especially to a Parisian.”
“Oh, no, I would never -”
“How about we move on to the case,” Dick spoke up, interrupting the two of them and giving his consultant a sharp look.
Marinette mentally kicked herself. "Oh gods, he's probably wondering why I’m getting so worked up over this. Then he’s going to look more into my backstory and realize I’m undercover, or worse they'll think I’m a criminal and then I'll be kicked out of the unit or imprisoned and then I’ll be sent away to Arkham surrounded by other criminals and I’ll die alone there without ever getting a hamster named -"
“Of course. You said you had some questions for me?” Harlow asked, breaking the consultant out of her spiral.
Dick nodded, placing his mug on the coffee table. “We received some security footage of you and Fabian Castor arguing shortly before his death. What were you talking to him about before the competition?”
As she fell back into the usual rhythm of this job, she leaned back and took a sip of her tea. “Deep breaths, everything is fine. Nothing bad will happen if I play it off right, and that’s assuming he even asks.”
Harlow took a sip of his drink before answering. “I couldn’t tell you. I have so many conversations with so many people about so many things when it comes to this competition that it all blends together,” he shrugged casually.
“Couldn’t or won’t? Seemed pretty heated for a ‘conversation,’ from what I heard” Marinette crossed her arms. “I think that would be one of your more memorable conversations of the event.”
“Forgive me for not remembering everything this morning,” he replied with a wave of his hand, glancing off to the side. “It was rather chaotic for everyone. Ask any of the other judges. We were all scrambling to make sure everything was set up properly for our competition.”
Marinette narrowed her eyes slightly as he spoke, not buying his story while Dick carried on with his questions.
“You’re both the head judge and the event coordinator, correct?”
“Yes, quite stressful if you ask me,” Harlow chuckled.
Dick nodded. “I can only imagine. Were you or any of the other judges given special access to anywhere in the building?”
Harlow thought for a moment. “Sort of. Camille and I were, though as far as I know, neither of us has ever used it.”
“Care to elaborate?” The detective raised an eyebrow.
“There’s an Employees Only hallway to one of the ballrooms in the building. We’re renting it for the final stage of the competition: a runway show, with the contestants, or a model they already picked, showing off their designs and handiwork!” He said with a flourish. “All of the contestants know about the hallway, since that’s where they’ll be waiting, but only us two are allowed in there until for now.”
Marinette looked between the two of them. “Who’s Camille?”
“Oh, you weren’t introduced. My apologies. Her name is Camille Niang, she’s our technical judge.” Harlow answered.
“Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Mr. Castor?” Dick asked.
The event coordinator quickly shook his head. “Heavens, no. Fabi was a good man. I just can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt him, much less kill him. Christ, he was one of the sweetest people I knew.”
Marinette perked up at that, and interrupted Dick before he could get another question out. “Were you close with him?”
“Hmph, hardly. Barely knew him. Our paths had crossed a few times over the years, at other competitions, events, gatherings. You know the sort. Brief dalliances when we were involved in the same thing. That sort of stuff.”
Harlow shifted as he spoke, refusing to make eye contact outside of a quick glance.
Marinette tilted her head slightly, watching him. “Dalliances, you say? Sounds like you knew him better than we thought. Not to mention the nickname ‘Fabi.’”
“No, no, no. Not like that, nothing like that! Dalliances as in brief - you know - involvements, not - not that ,” he protested, turning red as he stumbled over his words.
“Methinks the sir doth protest too much. How about you, Grayson?” She teased, hoping that by pushing the man’s buttons enough, he would confess to something that helped their case.
Dick gave her a stern glance, not that that ever stopped her before, before he turned back to the man.
“Mr. de Luxe, we aren’t here to judge you. We’re just trying to figure out what happened to Fabian Castor. All we know is that you were one of the last people to see him alive. Knowing your relationship with him could have a huge impact on our case.”
Harlow crossed his arms defensively. “Why does it matter?”
“Simply put, it gives us some insight into his life. It will tell us whether or not you’re a victim of unfortunate timing. Plus, it could point us in the right direction and lead us away from potential dead ends.”
De Luxe looked at Dick for a moment before standing up and moving towards the bar cart in the corner. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink, downing it in one go before pouring out a second.
“Forgive me for needing a bit of liquid courage,” he muttered, losing a bit of his haughty air as he sat down. “You want to know what my relationship with Fabian was? Fine. We were fucking. Happy? As to what we were arguing about, I was trying to convince the stupid bastard to drop out.”
Marinette went quiet and looked down at the ground. She may have gotten the info that she wanted, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She’d pressured the man to come out in a rather high-stakes, stressful situation: homicide questioning. Dick glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but continued.
“Why did you care so much about persuading him to drop out?” He asked.
Harlow looked at the detective incredulously. “Because it was a conflict of interest, obviously! I was unhappy to see he’d signed on as a contestant, especially as he was a fairly last minute addition. I had been announced as a judge since the conception of the competition! I wanted him to drop out so I wouldn’t have to have to worry about bias, but the idiot refused, just wanting to spend time around me. And look where that got him,” he spat.
De Luxe shook his head and took another swig of his drink before he continued. “Loveable bastard just wanted to see me again, and I was too shortsighted to appreciate it. And before you ask, yes, I was mad that he was there. But I never wanted him dead. Now, if you two are satisfied with your prying into my life, I have better things to do.”
Dick nodded, standing up and reaching over to shake hands with de Luxe. “Of course. Thank you for your time. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”
“Of course. Anything for our city’s finest ,” Harlow replied, escorting the two of them towards the door. “Good day, Detective. Miss.”
And with that, he shut the door in their faces, and the lock clicked shut.
Dick sighed as the two exited the complex. He glanced at Marinette, walking quietly with her head down, as he fished his keys out.
“Well. That went well,” he said as he unlocked the car.
“I antagonized him into coming out,” Marinette muttered.
She didn’t look at him as she pulled open the passenger side door and slumped into the seat.
“That wasn’t your intention -” Dick started to reassure her.
“But I did it anyway! I was so focused on pushing his buttons, trying to get him to slip, I completely ignored the situation,” she bemoaned, shaking her head. “I'm usually better than this. I swear. Normally I'm the one trying to read the situation not instigate something and I-”
“Naanders!” Dick's voice cut her spiral off with a sharp snap before softening. “Marinette. You made a mistake. It happens, you're human. You are allowed to mess up from time to time. Sure, it's a shitty mistake, but I can guarantee almost everyone back at the precinct has done worst. It doesn't excuse what happened in there, but it does mean you don't have to bury yourself in it. Okay?”
Marinette didn't say anything for a minute before nodding softly. “I know. But - but I have an idea for how to make it up to him and apologize. I’ll fix it.”
“You don't -”
“No. No, I do. It's fine. I'll make sure it is.”
Dick thought about what to say to his consultant. Part of him hoped that maybe this would curb some of her... antics and encourage a more professional approach to suspects. The other part of him felt bad for her. The woman could be hard to read, even for him, but right then she was radiating guilt and shame.
He opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang, cutting him off. He glanced down at it for a second before answering, placing it on speaker. Marinette peeked at the caller ID, biting back a groan when she saw that it read, ‘Doc Manson - ME.’
“We’ll talk about this later, but don’t stress yourself out, okay?” Dick tried to reassure before he answered the call with artificial cheer in his voice. “Hey, what’s up, Doc?”
“I am going to choose to ignore that for the nth time. Anyways, I got something. It’s about the body. You should come in and look at this.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Great. And bring the Freaky One with you. She’ll want to know too.”
Marinette snapped out of her funk when she heard that and scoffed, “Oh, I’m the frea-”
Dick placed a hand over her mouth, then looked over sharply at the sudden dampness on his palm. She didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic as she glared back. At least he was used to that response, though it was usually from his siblings.
“Will do. Is everything-”
“Great! See ya soon, Cap’n. Bye!,” he chimed in, before hanging up.
“Don’t call me Captain,” Dick muttered under his breath as the line went dead.
Marinette crossed her arms as Dick took his hand away from her mouth. “I still don’t see where he gets off calling me the freaky one,” she protested, glaring at the phone as Dick started the car.
“ I still don’t see why you don’t like him,” Dick sighed. “Manson’s a nice guy who actually passed all the background checks, same as you did. Besides that, he’s our best ME in ages.”
She bit back a retort at that. Beating the background checks doesn’t necessarily mean much, especially if you have a skilled hacker in your wings. Instead she just poked him and said, “At least I’m your best consultant.”
“You're my only consultant.”
“Which makes me the best.”
“Ha ha. Seriously, Naanders. All joking aside, why don’t you like him?” He turned to her, concerned.
She knew Dick had her best interests at heart, and that he just wanted to make sure she was alright, but… “It’s not that I don’t like him. It’s just… His vibes are off. I don’t know what it is exactly, it’s just… There’s so much death lingering about him.”
Dick glanced over at that, the silent question of ‘ are you serious, right now?’ palpable at that look. “You do realize that he’s the Medical Examiner. It’s his job to be around death.”
“It’s not the same,” she huffed, and turned to look out the window.
Dick simply shook his head, and focused back on the road. “Sure, it’s not Naanders. Sure it’s not. Probably doesn’t have anything to do with how you met.”
He laughed as she whirled on him, clearly ticked off. “I do not have bad luck that needs to be fixed with his stupid crystals!”
—--------------------------------
The Morgue
Bludhaven Police Department
—------------------
As soon as Doc saw the two walk in, he waved them over to the body laying on the exam table. He waited until they got a bit closer before diving into his findings.
“Okay, so first of all, it's kind of hard to determine how tall the murderer is by the angle of the stabbing, because no one knows what stair your vic was standing on when it happened. Unless you have new info?”
Dick and Marinette shook their heads, so he continued. “Okay, so if both people were standing on the landing, the killer would have to be around 6’2.”
“That’s what was so urgent?” Dick raised an eyebrow, and received a head shake in response.
“Actually, it's everything else.”
“Everything else, meaning what?” Marinette asked with a glance at the body.
"First of all, I'm still seeing some serious rigor mortis, which is weird given that it’s been a few hours since the crime, and given the warm weather we’ve had today. And look at the Mees’ lines and skin pigmentation here." He gently grabbed the vic's hand to show the two investigators.
The faux consultant only blinked in confusion and glanced at Dick, though he seemed to be following along just fine.
“Me lines?” She whispered to him.
He turned to whisper back to her. “Mees’. A color change in the nail bed. I think they usually indicate-” .
"By itself, these symptoms could be a couple different things.” The ME interrupted. “Moving on to the vic’s internals, though, things get a little more concerning. He's dealing with erythematous mucosa in the stomach, jaundice and some fatty degeneration in the liver, and petechial hemorrhages under the echocardium of his left ventricle here.”
In the corner of her eye, Marinette noticed Dick nodding in understanding, likely wracking his brain for what that could mean. Something about what she noticed at the scene still bugged her though.
“Do you want to try again in English? Or maybe French?” She asked as she scanned the body.
“Best I can do is high school Spanish. Crappy high school Spanish at that. But, basically, I think he not only was stabbed, but was also poisoned by-”
“Arsenic,” Dick snapped his fingers.
“The garlic!” Marinette exclaimed, turning to Dick with a grin. The men looked at her, confused, so she continued. “Ah, arsenic smells like garlic. I noticed it was in his mouth but not his hands at the scene. It was odd, because I couldn’t find anything with garlic at the catering table. Part of me figured it was something he ate at home.”
Dick groaned. “Great. Do we know which killed him?”
He shook his head. “Nothing definitive. Actually, that’s part of the reason I called you. I just wanted to check with you before running any tests.”
“Of course. And for future reference, I trust your judgment, Doc. Feel free to run any tests you think could help our investigations”
He gave a wide grin. “Thank you, Cap’n. I’ll get a start on those tonight, hopefully I should get the results at some point tomorrow, if not early Tuesday.”
“What have I said about calling me that? I’m not a captain, you know.” Dick frowned.
Manson just laughed as he waved the two of them off. “ Maybe I’ll stop calling you Cap’n when you finally start calling me by my actual name.”
“I call you Manson all the time,” Dick protested.
“My first name.”
“Fine. Thanks for all your help, Danny . Check back in tomorrow?”
“Of course. Talk to you tomorrow, Cap’n . Freaky One.”
Marinette spun to retort as Dick grabbed her by the waist, and hauled her out of the morgue before she could spit insults at the ME. The door fell shut behind the pair, cutting off the sound of laughter as he carried her to the stairwell.
“Oh, so you’ll call him by his first name, but I’m still Naanders?” She grumbled, practically hanging in his arms as if he’d just scooped up a kitten instead of his pint-sized consultant.
“He’s not under my supervision, unlike you,” he answered before putting her down. He had to bite back his own laughter as she glared daggers at him, straightening her blouse and shaking her head.
“I am choosing to ignore the fact that you just did that, Grayson,” she huffed, as she started up the stairs, then paused a few steps above where Dick stood. “You do realize what Doc told us means, don’t you?”
“What are you thinking, Naanders?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.
“That we’re probably dealing with a killer and an attempted homicide.”
Dick groaned at the thought. “Great. That’s just what we needed, huh?”
Marinette laughed as she pushed open the door. “It’s the spice of life.”
He hesitated for a moment, then his face quickly shifted to realization and disappointment. “You did not just say that.”
“Say what?” she asked, face full of innocence he knew she didn’t possess.
“I’m going to run and see if Moore and Sanders are still here, and update them if they are. Hopefully they’ve got something new,” he informed her, moving past her poor joke. “You should call it a night and head home. I’ll see you in the morning, Naanders.”
Marinette nodded, giving him a fake salute as she backed towards the door. “Aye aye, Cap’n.”
She was out the door before he could say anything.
---------
The ME watched, looking out the small window in his door as the detective and his consultant spoke on the stairs. He hummed to himself, leaning back in his chair as he glanced back at the body, guiding his chair next to the examination table and resting his head on his hand with a sigh.
“Those two may very well be the death of me one day,” he informed the corpse with a small laugh. “Get it? Death?”
He shook his head as he stared at his companion. Straightening up, he got back to work.
Notes:
We're back and a lot sooner this time!
A couple of notes:
First off, HUGE Thanks to our two betas: Worried Safari ( Ao3: Celestial_Ruined_My_LIFE ) and Ellie_Net ( Ao3: Ellie_Net ). These two were such a huge help in giving feedback and editting this chapter, Egg and I are so thankful for y'all's help!!
Second of all, any references to other fandoms does not mean they are actually a part of this crossover. This fic will be chock full of easter eggs to other shows and fandoms if you can find them. :)
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