Dead ends.

Nothing but dead ends.

She went to the courthouse. They found the blueprints for the Agreste manor, put them on the table and unfurled the paper to pour over it. The building had three stories, of which, the lobby and her office were on the bottom floor.

No basement, nothing close to a basement.

"Can I help you with anything specific?" Asked the woman who had retrieved the plans. Obviously, Marinette's distress was a little more evident than she wanted as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

"So, I inherited this house," she explained.

"Yes, you showed me the deed."

"But I was friends with Adrien, the son of the previous owner. He told me to look in the basement. Other family members said there wasn't one, and I was hoping that maybe there was, and no one knew about it."

The attendant gave her a pitiful look. "I'm sorry, Miss Dupain-Cheng, these are the only plans we have on record. In fact, most houses in Paris don't have a basement."

So what was Adrien talking about?

The woman seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Although, if Mr. Agreste wanted to, I suppose he could have commissioned the building of a basement later on. He might not have submitted the documents for it, which is illegal, but it is a possibility."

"There's a chance?"

"I suppose. Have you checked all over for stairways?"

"Not thoroughly, not yet. I haven't moved in."

"Well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Marinette smiled at the woman, but ultimately didn't ask anymore questions. They couldn't offer her the kind of help she needed. She doubted anyone could.

Children, have you ever met the Boogeyman before?

No, of course you haven't, for you're much too good I'm sure.

Don't you be afraid of him, if he should visit you.

He's a great big coward, so I'll tell you what to do.

Her next lead was the funeral director, Bill Hunkerson. He had been cagey with Marinette, but maybe his guilt would make him open up more to Ladybug. She just had to play it smart.

She strolled into the Funeral home, suited up and ready to interrogate. Of course, she was quiet so as not to upset anyone if a service was in session.

The receptionist spotted her immediately. "Ladybug? Is something the matter?"

Obviously, it wasn't common for a superhero to be spotted at a funeral home. The question was justified.

"I need to have a word with Bill Hunkerson."

"Who?"

Oh no.

"This is Armes-Hunt Funeral Home, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And a Bill Hunkerson doesn't work here? As a director?"

"Oh! My apologies. I'm rather new here. Mr. Hunkerson resigned just as I was starting, about a month ago."

Ladybug felt her hands growing clammy under the suit. "Are you sure? He was directing Gabriel and Adrien Agreste's funeral a week ago."

The receptionist looked at her, wide-eyed. "Really? We weren't covering that funeral. I would have remembered something that important. Was he maybe doing it freelance? Maybe he was friends with Mr. Agreste and did the funeral with outside resources."

"The programs had your logo on them. The staff were wearing the logo too."

Stunned, the receptionist looked around the room. "Just a minute, Ladybug. I'll get my boss."

This conspiracy was unraveling in her hands, slowly like a ball of twine.

Hush, hush, hush. Here comes the Bogeyman!

Don't let him come too close to you, he'll catch you if he can.

Just pretend, that you're a crocodile,

And you will find that Bogeyman will run away a mile.

The receptionist was hurrying back to her, with an older man in tow. When he arrived, he gave her a comforting smile and held out a hand. "Hello Ladybug, I'm Johann Armes. Rachel said you had some information about Bill?"

Ladybug rehashed what she had said to the woman, revealing that their funeral home had supposedly taken care of the funeral.

As her tale went on, Mr. Armes went from confused to shocked to angry.

"Rachel didn't lie," he clarified. "Bill did resign from here about a month ago. He worked for me for twenty years, and then one day told me the work was too much for him, and quit. This is a hard business to be in, so there is a high turnover rate, so I didn't even think about it. But with what you told me…I wonder if he was being honest." He pursed his lips into a thin line as he took out his cell phone. "At any rate, he wrongfully took a job from us. What if something had gone wrong? Our name was all over it! Bill better have some answers for me. If not on the phone, then in court." He furiously scrolled through the phone until he found the contact and dialed it.

He put it on speaker as it rang.

Once, twice, then click.

"Bill? It's Johann. I have some questions for you."

There wasn't an answer on the other line.

"Bill? You better start talking!"

The phone clicked again, and the call ended.

"The prick hung up on me!" Mr. Armes shouted.

"Where does Bill live?" Ladybug asked. "I'll go speak to him in person. I really need the information he has."

"I'll give you the address."

Say Shoo, shoo, and stick him with a pin!

Boogeyman will very nearly jump out of his skin.

Say Buzz-Buzz, just like the wasp that stings,

Bogeyman will think you are an elephant with wings!

Only minutes later, thanks to the speed of her yo-yo, Ladybug arrived at the address provided.

Though, the dozens of emergency vehicles outside gave her a sense of dread instead.

As she landed, she was greeted by police and ushered to the front of the house.

A woman in a shock blanket spotted her immediately and ran to her, flinging her arms around her. "Ladybug! Thank Christ you're here!"

Ladybug gave her a comforting squeeze and pulled back. "Are you Bill's wife?"

She burst into sobs. "My Bill! My wonderful Bill! Who would do this to him?!"

Ladybug pulled her into a hug and patted her shoulder. "I know, I know it hurts. Can you tell me what happened?"

"It just came in through the window! I only saw it leaving, but it was big and black! Like a huge spider!" She was hysterical, waving her arms around and letting the blanket fall to the ground.

"Ma'am, why don't you sit back down?" An EMT picked up the blanket and put it on her shoulders. "We can fill in Ladybug from what you've said."

"Bill! Where's my Bill? Have you seen him!?" She cried as she was steered over to an ambulance.

Big and black like a huge spider…was it an akuma? No akuma has set out to murder anyone before. People had turned into ice cream, glitter, and all sorts of things, but never just straight up murdered.

"Ladybug?" A man in a vest asked. "I'm Detective Joseph Bertony, would you come with me please?"

"Of course."

He led her into the Hunkerson home, where every room they passed was spotless and not a hair out of place.

"What you are about to see is shocking, if you need any time, please speak up."

When they arrived in the living room, a huge red bloodstain on the wall caught her attention. Below it, the man she had seen at the funeral was propped against the wall. He had a hole in his forehead, and the back of his skull was missing.

"Oh my god…"

"It's…pretty horrible, I must say." Said the detective. "A couple of people have vomited already."

"I can understand that." She felt weak in the legs. If she wasn't transformed, she probably would have collapsed as well.

"According to Mrs. Hunkerson, the assailant was a huge black creature that looked like a large spider. She saw it as it was leaving the house through the window. How exactly it killed Mr. Hunkerson is unknown."

"Do you think it could be an akuma?"

He gave her a look. "Isn't that why you're here? Don't you and Chat Noir listen to police scanners or something?"

She shook her head. "That's not it at all. I was coming here to speak to Mr. Hunkerson about something else."

"Care to share?"

She glanced around the room, taking stock of the investigators and police standing around, and decided to beckon him into another room.

He followed her quietly, concern written all over his face.

"I know I'm not a detective," she began. "My job is to deal with akumas and Hawkmoth. But I've been running an investigation on my own."

"Concerning what?" His tone was sharp.

Ladybug bit her lip, feeling like a student with late homework standing in front of a strict teacher. She just couldn't imagine this going well. What should she disclose? Would he tell her to stop and leave it alone?

Detective Bertony noticed her unease immediately, and gave her a minute to collect herself. When she only grew more hesitant, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's alright."

It was like talking to Adrien for the briefest moment. That's what this was about, after all. Justice for her Kitty.

"It concerns the Agreste family."

"Gabriel and Adrien Agreste, right?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't involved in that case, but I heard about it. Murder suicide, open and shut case. Cut and dry. So what about it?"

"I knew Adrien. He wouldn't have done that."

"That's what people said about Jeffery Dahmer too. Not that there's a comparison."

"Right. People have their vices and demons and Adrien isn't exempt. But that's not all."

He nodded once, indicating that he was listening.

"Both Gabriel and Adrien's coffins were buried empty."

He frowned. "Your proof?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"They let you look?"

"Nope. But Ladybug has her ways."

The detective scratched his chin in thought. "What does this have to do with Hunkerson?"

"He was the director for the funeral. I think he knew that the coffins were empty, and that's what got him killed."

"So…Hawkmoth is covering up the truth about the Agreste's?"

"Up until just now, I didn't know what to think. But if Mr. Hunkerson was killed by an akuma, that's what I'm led to believe. I was just at Armes-Hunt funeral home. According to Mr. Armes, Bill Hunkerson resigned a month ago, and yet he directed the funeral a week ago, under their name without permission. Mr. Armes called him and—" she stopped, remembering a critical detail and pulling up her yo-yo.

"What?"

"Someone picked up." She glanced at the time stamp on her search for his address. It had been 20 minutes since she left the funeral home. "When was he murdered?"

He glanced at his watch. "Oh, about an hour and a half ago. Why?"

"Someone answered our call 20 minutes ago. They didn't say anything, but hung up. Did you find his phone?"

"We can check the evidence. I didn't see it."

"Would anyone have answered it?"

"No, that would be tampering. But what does that have to do with this? Someone answered the call. If not, would you have sought him out here?"

"I probably would have come here anyways. I really wanted to hear what he had to say about their funeral."

"Tell you what. Since this has to do with my current case, I'm going to get more details on the Agreste murder. Is there a number I can reach you at?"

"Here's the number to my yo-yo, if I don't pick up, just leave a message."

He put her number into his phone. "Now, if you don't mind me asking, what made you start investigating this anyway?"

"That's a superhero secret. Sorry detective."

"Fair enough. But the more info you give me, the more help I can give you."

"I understand. I will consider it and give you as much as I can. But if an Akuma is killing people who know about the Agreste's, I don't want any part of my identity getting out."

"You have a point. Best not mention my involvement either."

"Off the record?"

"For now, until we have solid evidence and the upper hand. We know nothing about Hawkmoth…unless you do?"

"Nothing. It's been eleven years and we've only fought him face to face a handful of times. It doesn't help that his akuma rate is slowing down too. At this rate, I fear he'll retire before we catch him."

"I'm sure he'll slip up soon." He twisted up his lip. "Maybe he already did, and that's why the Agrestes perished."

"One more detail I can give you: Emilie Agreste, Gabriel's wife, died about 12 years ago. Her coffin was also empty."

"You saw it?"

"I…not personally, but I have a….trick that allows something to phase through solid objects. This 'something' reported back that the coffin was empty."

"And would this 'something' be willing to testify if we get to that point?"

"Um…probably?" She grimaced. "I'm sorry I'm being so vague, I just…it has to do with the Miraculous, and that's very sensitive information."

"Fine. I won't pry. But thank you for telling me. I'm not sure how these deaths and Emilie's 12 years ago could be related, but I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Likewise, Detective. I better be off and see if I can spot this Akuma before it strikes again."

"Good luck Ladybug!"

"I'm going to need it, I'm a little arachnophobic."

When the shadows of the evening creep across the sky,

And your mommy comes upstairs to sing a lullaby,

Tell her that the Bogeyman no longer frightens you,

Uncle Henry very kindly told you what to do!

Tonight would have been her patrol night anyway. Joint patrol, her and Chat.

The third he had missed, and the second after she found out he was dead.

The last time, she tried to call him. She was on the Agreste's wall and she called him. He was there, staring right at her the whole time. Hadn't he cared? Could he not see the frantic desperation on her face?

She scanned the shadowed streets for the spider-like figure the police had described. It was still early in the night, and the streets were plenty full of happy Parisians enjoying the nightlife.

If only they knew what lurked around the corner. If only they had seen what she had. The blood on the wall, the soulless gaze in Bill Hunkerson's eyes. The absolute devastation of his wife.

It was so messed up. It seemed like everyday since Adrien's passing, Paris got a little darker. A little more sinister.

Hush, hush, hush, here comes the Bogeyman!

Don't let him come too close to you, he'll catch you if you can.

Just pretend, your teddy bear's a dog!

Then shout out, "fetch him teddy!" and he'll hop off like a frog!

Ladybug paused to take a break at one of their checkpoints. Normally, if they patrolled separately, this is where they would meet up before splitting up again. And she couldn't help but linger there for a minute or too, even though no one would come.

Or so she thought.

A thump drew her attention to the chimney behind her. It was a black figure, not like a spider, but like a person.

A person with pointy ears on his head.

She gasped. "Chat!"

He whipped his head to look at her, his eyes glowing a solid green in the night.

"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick about you!"

As she stepped closer, he backed away, keeping his unblinking eyes drilled on her.

"Chat? What's wrong? Won't you come down and talk to me?"

He backed up farther before darting off into the shadows.

She had just found him! She couldn't lose him now!

She took off after him, listening for the scrambling of his claws on the zinc rooftops.

He was fast. Faster than normal, and it took every bit of strain to keep up with him.

Finally, she had a good shot and she threw her yo-yo out, snagging him with her rope. He wriggled and squirmed, kicking his legs as he fought for freedom.

"Settle down, kitty cat," she said, with annoyance, but concern. "I just want to talk to you."

He snapped his alien gaze to her and hissed, spittle drawing lines between his huge canine teeth.

It made her recoil.

"Chat? Kitty?"

He wriggled some more before he got his hand free, then he brandished his claws and cut through her, previously assumed, invincible line.

Then he bolted, scrambling into the night.

After his reaction, she didn't have the heart to chase him down again.

It was Chat. It was Adrien. It was definitely him. But something was definitely wrong.

At least she had an idea of where the Black Cat ring was.

Just pretend he isn't really there,

You will find that Bogeyman will vanish in thin air.