A/N: Alright, before we start anything, let me get this down on the table. It is so hard to find information about real French inspectors. Or a lot of other things about 1950s Paris. There probably weren't female inspectors. So let's not worry how realistic I make it, but I will try to make it as authentic as it can possibly be. There will be limits, but I hope you enjoy either way. Also there won't be smut (sorry or not sorry?) I just can't write it and I may do like a fade to black but that will be it. There are sexual themes though.
Anyway, on with the story!
Episode 1: Pilot
"'Women raised and educated exactly like men would work under the same conditions and for the same salaries; erotic freedom would be accepted by custom, but the sexual act would no longer be considered a remunerable "service"; women would be obliged to provide another livelihood for themselves; marriage would be based on a free engagement that the spouses could break when they wanted to; motherhood would be freely chosen—that is, birth control and abortion would be allowed—and in return all mothers and their children would be given the same rights; maternity leave would be paid for by the society that would have responsibility for the children, which does not mean that they would be taken from their parents but that they would not be abandoned to them.'"
A sigh, almost of relief, followed the paragraph, as the young woman tossed a copy of The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir back onto the table.
"Well, Mari?" Another young woman, probably the first woman's friend, stared at her with raised eyebrows, awaiting her thoughts.
Mari pinched her nose, opening her eyes wide as her blue irises shined in the sunlight. "To be honest, Alya, I found the ideas to be...intriguing. Certainly, I would love to see them enacted. Paid maternity leave, the ability to divorce whenever, the same salaries as men. I found them to be enlightening, at the very least."
Her friend arched an eyebrow. "But?"
"But...I have the feeling this woman is also raving about other things that don't make sense. I mean...look, back in chapter...four, I think," she said, grabbing the book and flipping through the pages, her eyes scanning the words before finding them, jabbing her finger at it, "Ah! She says housecleaning is 'holding away death but also refusing life'. What the hell does that mean? The refusing life part makes sense, but how is it holding away death?"
"Marin-"
"And wasn't this the same woman who not only seduced her female students and sent them to another man, but also wanted to have the age of consent laws taken down?"
"But the book-"
"The book is good in most areas. I'll admit that. But this...maquerelle...ugh...she disgusts me in some ways."
"Marinette, could you please listen?"
She sighed, crossing her arms."Sure...fine, go ahead."
"I just thought it could enlighten your mind. You seemed to be having a lot of problems as an inspector."
Marinette frowned at her friend. "Yes, I have problems. But nothing a book can help. It's not a big deal. It's just that I want a case that is actually interesting. I wanna be respected. I mostly get prostitution cases. Practically insulting, if you ask me."
"When have the men cared?"
"There are some."
"Some."
"Yeah, just as there are some women who are undesirables."
"That may be true...but I mean…"
"Alya, can we switch the subject?"
"Ugh...sure. I haven't been to your apartment in a while. How is Manon?"
Marinette smiled, her thin lips curving up. "She is fine. Still the happiest thing on earth whenever I see her. An energetic little bugger, though. I am surprised Mrs. Chamack can handle it all."
"She had years to grow accustomed to it. As a sister to many siblings, I can attest to that."
"Hmm."
"How about your mother and father?"
"Last time I called them up, they were still doing great. I need to get back out there sometime. They are always worried about me and my job."
"Worried their little girl will get hurt?" Alya asked, teasing.
"Exactly," Marinette sighed, throwing her hair to the side as she looked out at Parc Kellermann, a park at the edge of the thirteenth arrondissement, watching the youthful couples giving pecks to each other on the benches, watching the children playing and laughing, their mother smiling at their fun.
Marinette had always enjoyed the company of children, finding their youth refreshing. Her parents were still waiting for her to find a man to marry and have children with. She keeps on telling them the same thing she always tells them.
When I'm ready.
She can't seem to find the right man.
Speaking of men…
"I should get back to work, thanks for talking with me," she said, grabbing her small purse that was hanging from the chair and putting the thin strap over her shoulder, taking her hat before leaving.
"My pleasure, Mari. Show them how miraculous of an inspector you are!"
Marinette smirked, clicked her tongue, and aimed a finger gun at her. Alya returned the gesture, before waving her friend goodbye.
Marinette gazed up at the police department of Paris, her heart beating rapidly. She wasn't nervous. She was scared.
Straightening her tie, pulling her trench coat closer around her body, and tipping her hat down were the things she usually did before pushing the door open, stepping in.
Just gotta make it to my desk. There, I am safe.
She wasn't five steps in before the first comment was thrown.
"Hey honey, what's with the face? Smile."
She kept her eyes to the ground. Quarter of the way there, her mind kept track.
"Shouldn't you be wearing a skirt?"
Damn them, she cursed the men as they kept on hurtling words. She could imagine them, smirking, smug. She wished she could do something about it.
"Put on some make up, it'd make you much prettier."
Finally, she made it to the stairs, descending them down into the basement, where the files of many completed cases were lining the walls.
And in the back?
Her desk.
She leaned against a nearby wall, breathing heavily as she looked up the stairs. It's not easy, she thought to herself, they just want me to quit...to admit defeat.
She simply shook her head. "They...are gonna have to try harder than that."
Relaxed, she pushed herself off the wall, continuing until she reached her desk, turning on a lamp to illuminate the dusty old corner.
Their excuse for not giving her a desk with the other inspectors is that they "ran out of room". She thinks it's because they want her out of sight.
Of course, there were the few men here who were genuinely nice to her, most of them police officers. But they never interacted with her in front of the other guys, as to avoid chastisement. Nevertheless, she appreciated them.
The woman fell into her seat, taking off her coat and hat, sighing as she took one of the case files on her desk, opening it, her eyes scanning the contents.
"Wait...this one was already completed." She remembered this one. It was like all the others. She found the pimp, called in backup, and shutdown the operation.
Lather.
Rinse.
Repeat.
It was the same for the most part. Rarely was there a change in the pattern, and even then it wasn't a big change. Once there was a gunfight that lasted five seconds.
She just wished that there was a way to show she is a competent inspector. A way to prove herself.
After realizing all the files were of cases already done, she piled them up and put them away, cleaning her desk up.
As she pulled open a cabinet, tucking the file away in it, her ears picked up the sounds of footsteps coming downstairs.
Her head turned to see the captain of this division, Damocles, is what he liked to be called. He never gave his first name, which she found queer.
"Oh, hello, sir. I just finished cleaning up my desk," she held her hands behind her back, giving the stout man a smile.
He nodded to her and held up a case file. "Would you mind if I start to make it dirty again?"
She chuckled, crossing her arms and holding a hand out for it. "I'll just take it."
He handed it over, and she opened it, her smile dissipating in an instant.
"Now, Marinette, I-"
"Another prostitution case, huh?"
"Inspector Dupain, please, can you listen?"
Marinette took a deep breath and leaned against the cabinet. "Go ahead. It's not like I have any power."
"Please don't be like that," he approached her desk, turning around and resting his hands on it, "I am sorry that you can't get any of the better cases. The men take them all before I can even bring one to you. I appreciate what you have done here, really I do. Just...look, if you can do a good job on this case, I will do my best to get you a case tomorrow that is better than this."
Marinette turned her head up, smirking and raising an eyebrow at him. "Promise?"
"Promise."
She nodded, gesturing for him to go. "I'll read it and be on my way."
"Good," he said in a simple tone before he made his way up the stairs, leaving the inspector to herself.
She waited until he was gone to walk back to her desk and read the file.
"A pimp named Gustave Bouvier in the 11th arrondissement...hmm...some information to go on: a name, a supposed place the pimp lives, and rumors," she snapped it shut, "Guess I'll have to ask around."
She gathered her hat and coat, putting them back on and ascending the stairs, ignoring the foul remarks thrown her way as her mind was now focused on the case at hand.
Exiting the station, she walked to the parking lot, approaching her car, the cheapest one, a Citroen 2CV, an economy car her parents got for her when she was younger. It wasn't in the best shape, but it worked.
Getting in, she started it up, hearing the music of Luis Mariano filtering through the speakers. She turned it down and began to drive to the 11th arrondissement, the supposed location of this illegal brothel already memorized in her head.
Marinette parked the car on the street the building was on, her eyes staring at it. The place looked like a regular bar from the outside. Gustave's Place, it was called. But then again, it was still daytime and once the night comes, Paris turns into a whole different world.
She pursed her lips, eyes glancing to the side to see a small cafe sitting across from it. They might know something, she thought to herself, pushing her hat down before stepping out onto the sidewalk, a sudden burst of wind blowing back her black hair.
Her shoes tapped against the cement beneath them as they carried her to this cafe where there weren't much people yet.
Hopefully I can get some information before more come in, she thought as she pushed open the front door, a ring acknowledging her entrance.
A woman with a black wide brim hat sat in one corner of the room, nibbling on a cookie. Another man sat near the window, staring out of it like he was dreaming of something. It was fairly empty.
Marinette ignored them both, her focus on the man in front of her, manning the counter. He was much older than her, with wrinkles all over his face and a white mustache sitting on his lips.
He gave a weak smile as she approached him. "Welcome to the XY Cafe, mademoiselle. How may I help you?"
"Oh, nothing really." She returned a grin and rested her arms on the counter, leaning in. Her voice lowered to a whisper, "I am just looking for information."
His eyebrows raised. "I am afraid I have none."
"About Gustave's Place?" She tilted her head to the side to reveal the bar being straight across from the cafe.
"It's a bar, nothing more or less."
"But what is it at night?"
"At night?"
"Yes. I have rumors that state it's more than just a bar."
He was silent. "I know nothing about that."
She arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am su-"
All of a sudden, the woman from the corner walked up to the counter next to Marinette, the inspector unable to see her face as, she now realized, her hat had a black veil hanging from the brim all the way around, obstructing her face. With a black glove, she reached out and grabbed the man's wrist, gentle as she placed something in his hand, her fingers making some movement, before nodding and exiting. Not a word was said.
In the man's hand were several francs, paying for his service.
He put them aside and gestured for the inspector to leave. "Like I said, I know nothing."
Marinette narrowed her eyes, staring at the man for a moment before sighing and nodding. "If you insist. I will make my leave then."
She turned around and began her exit. As she reached the door, the man spoke out, "Wait, mademoiselle!"
Marinette peered over her shoulder at the man, who ripped a small piece of paper in half and threw it away before gesturing for her to come back.
She raised her eyebrows, returning to the counter. "Yes?"
The man glanced from side to side, as if scared someone was listening, before he spoke again, "After ten o'clock, the bar closes. I live upstairs, so I get a good view of it. Two hours later, I see many women in dresses collect in an alley nearby before entering the bar, one by one. That...is all I know, I swear."
Marinette, eyebrows still raised, nodded. "Every night?"
"Every night."
She nodded once more. "Thank you, monsieur."
With that, she exited the cafe, staring at the bar as she walked down the street.
In her head, she already had a plan.
That Night
Due to the housing problems of Paris, there wasn't much in the way of a good home for the young adults. Sometimes, young married couples still had to live with their parents, or in apartments that, for the most part, didn't have their own bathroom or toilet. This had caused many health problems and deaths.
Luckily, Inspector Marinette Dupain Cheng wasn't one of those. She was of the fifteen percent that had a single furnished room as their apartment, with running water and a bathroom.
The young woman was in the center of the room, strapping an RR-51 handgun to her right thigh. Once secured, she allowed the skirt of her red Chinese qipao that her mother gifted her to cover it from any who may be watching. A gold design of flowers and leaves fell down the left side of it, while the right side had a slit starting at the knee to expose everything below it, but not enough to reveal her gun. She was wearing black heels, earrings, and a scarlet red scarf to keep herself warm. Her hair was done up in a bun with bangs that framed her face well.
She looked over herself multiple times, to make sure she looked presentable. There can't be one flaw, one visible thing that hinted she wasn't a prostitute.
This was her first time going undercover, and she was nervous. What if I screw up? What will they do to me? What if I can't stop them from touching me?
Immediately she sighed and pushed those thoughts away. Need to focus on the case.
She gave one more look in the mirror before deeming herself a good looking prostitute.
Well...fake prostitute.
Once she was ready, she exited her apartment building and out into the cold Parisian night filled streets, turning her head side to side, looking down the sidewalk.
She walked to her car, getting in and starting it up.
Marinette parked her car down the street from the bar, so as to not look suspicious. The car shut its eyes as she pulled the key from the ignition, stepping out into the cold air once again, her heels clicking against the hard concrete sidewalk.
She could already see a group of prostitutes standing in the alleyway, a tall one standing out in the sidewalk, as if she was the one watching if the bar was open yet.
As Marinette approached the group, several of them glanced over to see the woman, looking her up and down, examining her. Sizing her up.
One of them, a blonde with dark brown eyes, smiled and nodded to her. "You. You look new."
Marinette grinned and glanced down. "Yeah...I, uh...I am just using this to pay for my rent, since I lost my job an-"
"Woah, woah, no need for your life story. And don't worry, this pays really well." She leaned in, eyes scanning every part of Marinette.
"Hmm...are you Chinese?"
"Uh...half...chinese."
"Ooh, a mixed breed, eh? Gustave loves those kinds of girls. You'll fit in very easily."
Marinette widened her eyes in surprise. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. Just don't be nervous and have fun."
"Yeah...right...thanks."
"Anytime."
A whistle could be heard from the door, and the girl on watch gestured for the others. "It's time."
The girl who spoke to Marinette nodded to her. "Deep breath, uh...what's your name?"
"Uh, Marinette."
"Marinette, my name is Vivienne. Just take deep breaths and you will be fine."
Marinette nodded and took a deep breath. "Right, okay. Thanks, Vivienne. Let's do this."
She continued to take deep breaths as she followed behind Vivienne, leaning to the side to look ahead. A man was looking the women up and down, then jerking his thumb, gesturing them inside, before the next woman stepped up.
As Marinette drew closer, she began to look herself over once more, hoping she'd be allowed in. What would I do once I am in?
As Vivienne stepped up to the plate, Marinette's mind wrapped up it's thought.
I'll just cross that bridge when I get there.
Vivienne was allowed in, and so Marinette went forward, standing in front of the man.
His eyes looked her up and down, observing her every detail. The inspector smiled, showing her pearly whites.
"Are you a new girl?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.
Marinette held her hands behind her back. "Uh, yeah. A new girl. My name is Marinette."
"Marinette…" He remained silent.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and gripped her chin, earning a gasp from the girl. He turned her head side to side.
"Mixed race...interesting. Go straight to Gustave. He likes to try out the new girls."
"Uhm...who is he?"
"Just go to the back. You'll know when you see him. Now go."
He pushed her into the bar, the girl stumbling a bit but able to recover.
Her eyes lit up as she acknowledged the scene around her. There wasn't one piece of furniture that didn't have some form of sin occurring on it. Even the walls were pretty much lined with two individuals engaging in sexual activities.
Vivienne was talking to some guy, one of her hands creeping down to rub his leg.
Marinette took a deep breath, determined to see this through to the end. There was something about this place that just wasn't sitting right with her.
Well...other than the prostitution.
She followed the directions the man up front gave her, walking past all the many different forms of debauchery going on while some music played in the back.
Marinette rounded a corner, hearing a lot of almost over exaggerated laughter.
And she knew what the man meant by "You'll know when you see him".
A man with a red beret sitting on a couch was smiling with girls surrounding him, beaming his bright yellow smile as he took a drag of his smoke. He wore a red suit with a black tie, making him stand out among everyone else.
He probably did it for that reason.
She took another deep breath and began to make her way towards him, trying to put on a sultry walk, to allure the man.
To say it got his attention would be an understatement. His eyes widened in excitement at her entrance.
"Ahh! Mademoiselle! The one with the pretty exotic look! Oh, you look extravagant! Utterly a beauty!"
Marinette faked a smile at his comments. "Thank you, monsieur."
He gestured for the ladies to leave, which they did, before he reached out to grab Marinette's hands, "I don't think I have seen you around! You must be a new girl! What is your name?"
"Uh...M-Marinette, monsieur."
"Marinette! What a lovely name! Please sit!" He pulled her onto the couch a little more forceful than she would've wanted, since she grunted as she hit the cushion.
With no hesitation, his hands were already on her thighs. "I say we get things started. I'd like to get to know you." He said, a tone in his voice coming out, one of which she never wanted to hear.
Before his hands could slide up anymore, her hands came down to stop them. "Uh...m-may I use the bathroom first? I need to freshen up a bit."
His eyes met hers, wide in surprise, but he nodded. "Of course, my beauty. Please, use my bathroom in my room upstairs."
"Oh, you sure?"
"Yes, please. Go on. I'll be waiting."
She stood up. "Thank you, monsieur."
Without waiting for anything else, she began on her way to the stairs, wrinkling her nose in disgust as his stench still lingered with her.
Her heels clicked as she ascended the stairs, slipping past people already getting to know each other. Up ahead, she saw the door to his bedroom. She reached out to push it open, closing it behind her.
It was a simple bedroom, but very messy. The bathroom was off to the side.
She immediately went to the bathroom, turning the sink on to wash her face, looking up in the mirror, she frowned and nodded.
"Let's do this."
She got to it right away, searching around his room for a good minute, trying to find any evidence of more than just prostitution on him. Because he probably would burn it if the police were called.
Marinette then noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A square outline in the ceiling.
A hatch? She thought. Reaching up, she tried reaching for a button protruding from it.
But she was too short.
She looked around, hoping there was some item that could help her.
Off in the corner, she found a cane leaning against a wall. Of course he has one.
Marinette picked it up and walked underneath the hatch, holding it up, the reach being long enough to press the button.
The hatch swung open, a ladder connected to it. She hopped up and grabbed the bottom rung, grasping the next rung to then reach into the attic, pulling her upper half into it.
Her eyes widened, the sight being one of disgust.
Children gathered around her, holding each other, scared to see the woman.
The inspector realized.
Child prostitutes.
"D-don't worry," she said in as friendly a tone as she could, "I am here to rescue you. I just need you to wait a little bit more, I need to call the-"
"You ain't calling nobody!" An angered voice shouted, and Marinette could feel fingers wrap around her ankles and pull her down, her body hitting the floor hard, earning a grunt from the girl as a figure appeared above her. They bent down and growled in her face. She could smell the smoke in their breath.
Gustave.
"You think you could just ruin my whole business? Huh? Do you?"
Marinette frowned and grabbed him by his shoulders, thrusting her head into his with a thunk.
The pimp reeled back in pain, cursing as Marinette got up, holding her own head. Maybe I shouldn't have done that.
Recovering faster, she reached down and pulled out her gun. She was about to aim it at the man when he was already on her, grabbing the gun and wrenching it from her grasp. He threw it aside, hearing it clatter against the wall.
The pimp threw a punch, but Marinette was fast, pulling off her scarf and wrapping it around her arm, using her weight to pull him to the ground.
Raising her fist, she brought it down upon his face, raising it again only for him to catch it and grab her hair, throwing her at the wall.
A yelp escaped from her lips as her back slammed against it. She slid herself up the wall to her feet, taking her shoes off, as he pushed himself up, sneering at her.
Gustave went in to throw a right hook at her. She ducked underneath it, giving his gut a couple of quick punches before stepping back and snapping a kick up to his jaw, sending him flying into the air before hitting the ground hard.
As she approached his groaning form, he asked her, "Where'd you learn those moves? The Chinese?"
She giggled, shaking her head. "No," she muttered, lifting her leg high up into the air, her toes pointing to the ceiling, "Ballet."
With that, she brought her heel down onto his balls.
He screamed in pain as Marinette wasted no time nudging him onto his back. "Yeah, there you go, big boy, on your back," she said, straddling him.
She grabbed her scarf on the floor and used it to tie his hands up. Reaching over to pick up her gun, she noticed a couple of men at the door, staring in with wide eyes.
Her eyes narrowed. She aimed the gun at them. "Get out now, or you'll be joining big boy right here."
The men scrambled to get out of the bar and the area.
Marinette had to keep watch on the pimp. So she called out, "Vivienne!"
She could just imagine the hesitation as the prostitute called back, "Yeah?"
"Call the cops! Tell them Inspector Marinette found something big!"
Marinette stared at the bar, now surrounded by the police, a blanket across her shoulders as the kids were being led out, on their way to being processed and, eventually, brought back to their parents while the prostitutes were lined up and talked to.
The inspector wore a wide smile. She was proud of what she did tonight, pulling the blanket closer around her body.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an officer walking up to her. She looked away, not wanting to hear another insult.
"Uh...excuse me? Miss...I mean, Inspector Dupain?"
She raised her eyebrows, and turned to look at the officer. "Nobody usually calls me that."
He chuckled. "Really? Even though that's your position?"
"Uh yeah. At least...the other inspectors don't call me that."
"Oh well...I was just gonna say...you did a great job tonight. Really. Who knows where those kids would be if you hadn't found them."
Marinette smiled, nodding to him. "Thank you."
He nodded back. "We also found documents of other buildings that contain children. So...again good work. You should be doing a homicide case some day."
She giggled. "I hope so."
The officer nodded again before leaving her to her devices. She sat on top of the police car, smirking.
"Juleka this way! It's over here!"
"Rose, just calm down for a bit! I don't want to drop the camera!"
Marinette cocked an eyebrow, looking towards the source of the voices.
Suddenly, two figures exploded out from the nearby alley, a small blonde girl with a pixie haircut wearing a newsboy cap who skidded to a halt, while a taller black haired girl with a camera in her hands was following behind, being able to stop without skidding.
"We have to get this before the other newspapers do!"
"You're so cute when you are panicky."
The blonde looked around, her blue eyes settling on Marinette, a smile gracing her face. "Over there! Hey, Inspector!" She began running over.
Marinette stared at them with wide eyes, the one with black hair snapping a picture of the inspector.
"Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about what happened here?"
Marinette's eyes switched from one girl to the other, surprised from their unexpected entrance and sudden questioning. But she smiled.
"Uh...sure, go ahead."
From afar, a woman watched as the inspector was asked questions.
Her face was shielded by the veil hanging from the wide brim of her hat. She took a bite of the cookie in her hand.
"Well, Tikki? She looks like a good one to me." A cacophonic voice asked from behind her back.
She smirked. "I think she is the one."
A/N: Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please remember to give a comment because I really need the critique, be it praise or criticism. I love noire and the research that goes into it! I don't know how long this series will be, but I am hoping to keep the same, if not better, quality as this chapter for the rest of it. I am happy to answer any questions you may have.
I would like to thank my friends insomniatictitan, titanwolfdog, Nakamatoo, Dorminchu, Ghastmine and Nani for helping me. You guys are the best!