Rain in the city it felt like bullets as it pierced the body. Any normal person would have just stayed inside, but not the detectives. They had a late call that night, and as they each made their way to the crime scene one detective's mind was more focused than the others.
Marco, in his mind, went over every detail of this serial thief. She always made her way into the places she robbed unusually, they never made sense, and most of the time seemed impossible. However she was doing it, she was good. This newest case, was one of the impossible ones, the item in question, the Golden Jaguar, was a valuable artefact in the art community. It was held in a 12 inch secured vault, and as some might think that that wasn't the impossible part, it was the fact that the vault sat at the top floor of the tallest building in town, with a team of guards that kept watch over it all day. She would've had to break in without someone seeing her, and that's where Marco's mind left off as he reached the building.
It was an older building, it's chips and scratches showing the age of it, and the matched so. He walked towards the elevator, and rode up to the top floor. He whistled as the numbers changed on the dial. As the doors opened, he was met with his chief, the elusive Jackie Lynn, the apple of the young detective's eyes. He turned his face in embarrassment as she reached in, and pulled him out of the elevator. Her face was one of rage, she was unpleased by the thief's trickery.
"This is the sixth time I've had to stand here and be screamed at by some fat old geezer! Are we any closer to finding out who this thief is?" Jackie asked furiously. Marco sighed, and turned to face his enraged leader.
"Not much, just that the only time she was actually spotted, which was only from the window of an opposite building during the second heist, was that she was female. Other than that, we still haven't been able to figure out how she gets in these places without being spotted." Explained Marco, much to the chagrin of the Chief. She looked down in disappointment, and then returned to the crime scene. Marco followed, and witnessed the normal. The confused guards, the angry owner, and the intrigued detectives. As he looked inside, he noticed the thief's calling card, the spray painted Butterfly. She had left it at all major crime scenes, and had been attributed to a dozen more with no insignia. Marco's mind began to race, he had so many questions, and the answers were nowhere to be found.
"What does she want?" he thought aloud. A quick flash of white lightning flared across the scene, giving it an artistic look. Marco decided he wouldn't find many answers at the scene... He never did. So with a dramatic swing of his dampened leather cloak, he walked back towards the elevator, ready to turn in for the night. Another flash of lightning, the sound of thunder erupting soon after. The flicker of light reflected against the puddles that had been strewn about the city. One of these puddles reflected a rather tall building across the road from the scene. It was nowhere close to the height of the opposing building, but it's height wasn't something to focus on. At the top, a blackened figure sat on the edge of the building, her legs swinging over the edge.
She held an item in her left hand, casually holding it like it was only a toy. She brought the item to her face, eyeing it closely, trying to make out the details in the dim lighting, but it was proved to be in vein. She looked back at the building across the road, watching through the windows as officers worked as best they could. There were people dusting for prints, taking photographs of the scene, even some drawing hairs from either the carpet or the furniture. It was quite funny for her to watch. She laughed lightly in the darkness, another flash of lightning revealing her bright and energetic blue eyes to no one. Thunder clapped once more and she decided that she was contempt with watching the police force search for things they won't find. She stood up from her sitting position and turned around swiftly.
Marco had just exited the doors of the scene and was now in the on-going storm that raged through the city. He sighed depressingly, his inability to find this master-minded thief was really starting to bring him down, he decided he would need to sleep before his head blew a fuse. So he walked out into the rain in the direction of his home, but the sound of thunder threw off his focus and he turned in the direction where it was most likely coming from. Marco only saw the building across the street, a few lights on and an overflowing gutter, but there was nothing special about it.
Even though there was nothing that he could possibly gain from the endeavour, his head told him to look at the roof, like he just needed to look there. And that's where he saw a figure in the darkness, too far away to detail, but he had a feeling he knew exactly who was up there. His gut had a hunch, but he pushed the thought away. "There's no point..." he thought aloud once more, "She's got the advantage in distance. We'd never catch her anyway."
The figure started to walk away, out of Marcos field of vision. Marco laughed breathily, a gruff tone to his voice. "Letting the criminal get away..."
Rain continued to pour down, his hair soaked and droopy. The darkened brown of it fell into his eyes as he pushed it away.
"Next time will be different..."