A Question of Principle

Interlude

As Carmen reached a safe distance from the scene of the crime, her thoughts raced in a desperate attempt to determine the weight of the events which had just taken place.

This mysterious interloper had succeeded in avoiding her and had gone out of his way to taunt her judgements. She rubbed the back of her head a moment, remembering how he had taken her hat as a trademark souvenir right after he had flipped her backwards in his escape. Carmen had not predicted his sudden move, and that was a deadly mistake. Yet he had shown no intent on harming her, just a driven motive to embarrass her. She reached into the pocket of her red coat and felt a piece of paper she did not place there. Carmen retrieved it and stared a moment at the envelope before calculating approximately how it had been placed there. When she had been countered on the rooftop, he had taken the brief moment of physical contact to place the envelope on her. Very smooth. She ripped the edge of the delicate linen paper and stared a moment at the letter addressed to her.

With the mysterious smile of La Joconde

She appeared so indifferent beneath her intentions

Sad and confident within the same circles

By the Enigma of Tarnis waits redemption

Seek the Northern path of Richelieu

If you want to discover the source of this clue.

Carmen looked at the curious piece of violet paper, and recognized it immediately. Only one thing was different from the last one she had discovered in the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam. There was a gold emblem embossed at the end of the clue, a golden scorpion curled in a distinctive defensive stance within the center of an elaborate sun, and the blackened curve of a waning moon within it. Whoever this mysterious criminal was, he was going out of his way to get her attention. The apparent lack of motive disturbed her deeply. Carmen could not recall meeting anyone who matched the description of the thief she had met in London, yet there was something very familiar about him. Unlike many of the past encounters she had which involved the violent tendencies of desperate inexperienced criminals, this one showed the makings of a calculating mind. He had blindsided her with an unexpected move as he fled from the rooftop of the museum yet he showed no evidence of possessing a weapon. Her new competitor was bold and fearless, he had enjoyed their first encounter with an unmistakable thrill of sheer antagonism.

He was playing a game with her.

Carmen sighed and a wry smile briefly broke the serious expression of concentration she often wore in solitude. If she was right, then this newcomer was in for an unexpected surprise. Surely, he didn't expect her to accept these gestures of theft and copycat clues as a friendly salutation among thieves.

Then something inside her recognized the first reference in the clue. Had she not made the same reference in the clue that had been intended for Zack and Ivy in Amsterdam? Hmm. The mysterious smile of La Joconde. Yes. The reference to La Joconde had been made in her last clue, which had indicated the painting of the Mona Lisa. Her research had revealed that the supposed subject of the famous work was the wife of Frensceco del Gioconde. His wife had been called La Joconde and had been a leading citizen of Italy at the time. Currently the Mona Lisa was being displayed at the Louvre. She had known that from her earlier clue. The early pattern of his modus operandi suggested a strong sense of theme, hadn't the first theft in the Met involved part of the Ninevah Marbles? The frieze taken from the British Museum was also from ancient Assyria. Perhaps there was more to this than she had first seen.

She felt an odd chill of deja vu in all that had happened. Something in her refused to feel afraid. Yet something deep inside told her otherwise.

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Paris, France

Something deep inside told Jida that the feeling he had was more than just educated deductive reasoning. He had purposely seen to it that the location of his next theft was the same as the one specified in the stolen clue from Amsterdam. There was no guarantee that Carmen knew he had arranged for the porcelain box to be taken from her last heist. Once again some intuitive force told him he couldn't be wrong. He held the ornate box up for a moment, admiring the obscurity of the elaborate patterns. There was an unexplainable sensation that seemed to exhilarate him about such details. For years he had only guessed at the kind of person which hid behind the brim of a red fedora, now he saw the minute details of a rare individual he was beginning to admire sincerely. There was always more to a great book that the cover it was bound in, no matter how intricate the craftmanship or grand the title. All things remained to be tested in due time.

"You betray yourself in the smallest of things."

Jida mused to himself privately. He had analyzed everything he had seen about her. His mind replayed the last encounter over and over again, reveling in the swift decisiveness which had enabled his escape.There was a great need to savor each moment in private memory before returning to his analytical repose. There was something far different about Carmen Sandiego, from the calm poise of her confrontation to the manner which she had pursued him fearlessly, armed with only her knowledge and determination to defend her. There was something noble about this elusive criminal, and despite what he had read in various articles or watched on the news it was a far grander thing to experience. Carmen had been more than surprised to discover his intentions in London, but he had relied on making the most of appearances. She had not had the same chance to dissect his motives or to determine the caliber of potential he held for such underhanded deeds. Jida had played every move he had, and Carmen had been able to keep up with him. Given the opportunity, she would have easily evened the odds and tried to outmaneuver him.

Tonight she would have that opportunity.

Jida knew he had to be prepared to the fullest extent of his experience to stand a chance. Carmen had tenfold the amount of skill he possessed and she had a greater extent of resources. Yet the odds of this twisted little game compelled him even more.

Nothing ever seemed real to him until he could see it for himself, deliberately take in all the information he could and muse over it in private memory. This was one of the more memorable things he had experienced in his lifetime, whereas most other recollections he pushed aside and longed to forget. If there was any nervousness in him, it didn't show. He had a trained ability to withhold such emotions and replace them outwardly with a face of sheer unconcern.

There was so much he had wanted to learn from the master thief. Jida knew the price of what he was doing, the consequences had played over and over in his mind from the moment he had first seen Carmen in the museum in New York. A strange sense of exhilaration filled him with anticipation. It had been a long time since such an emotion had interfered with his logic. His taste for the darker paths were well defined and deliberate. Once again, something revived within his soul he had once thought forsaken.