Chapter 1: How it all started.

Warning issued: There will be slight profanity and some derogatory terms that will be introduced here. Please don't use this in real life, it's considered to be disrespectful and offensive to others.

***Recommended Song: War by Ben&Ben.***

(Violet)

It's been a few days since Violet settled down in Montana. She clearly forgot that this is not the bustling, high rising skyscrapers that she has grown accustomed to, but a vast lands of green pastures and animals.

Violet didn't seem to stop thinking about the words, "Rembrandt, my love, 1923." She entertained the idea that Grandma Lou had a secret lover before she met Grandpa Alfie, but can't grasp what the number 1923. She surfed around for jobs and not online shopping just as promised for Grandma Lou. "Violet, take a break from that computer of yours." Grandma Lou called out. Violet closed her laptop and set everything aside to aid her.

"Yes?" She replied back, seeing her knitting scarves. "Oh I want you to do me a big favor here dear. I would like you to clean the attic, I haven't had the chance to do so." She explained.

Of course, she didn't know that there is an attic around here, so Grandma Lou had to show her where it is. Both women went up the stairs and show how to access it. Once opening, it creaks up wide open and dust starts to engulf the airways of Violet. "It hasn't been cleaned for a long time now, I think you may need some help here." Grandma Lou worryingly said.

"I think I can handle this, Granny Lou, you should probably go down now. Don't want to make you inhale dust from here." Violet said, which hesitate Grandma Lou for a bit, but slowly retreated back out. Violet gets straight gets to work, with a broom and dust cleaner at hand. She rearranged some books, antique vases and trinkets around to make some space.

She moved some boxes around the vast amount of space inside, when small piece of paper that dropped down. She picked up the piece of paper and saw that small rip was there. "I love you forever, Viola. I await for your return and I have a special gift to give." And signed, E. George. Then Violet remembered a piece of paper that she saw at the table lamp. She quickly went down from the attic and grabbed the paper from her hand and then saw that it fits perfectly.

Violet was even more puzzled; who in the hell is E. George and most especially, who is Viola? "Violet? Are you done there," Grandma Lou questioned. She walked out of her room, "are you done with cleaning up the attic?"

"I'm almost done Granny, but I just came across this paper and I was wondering if this is yours?" Violet showed the paper, now pieced with tape together. "Where did you find this?" She questioned.

"I was just cleaning and organizing some boxes and antique miscellaneous. I'm sorry, am I not supposed to touch this?" She was ready to put it back where it belongs, but Grandma Lou stopped her, "don't put this away, I think there is something you need to know, bring down the box that you saw the piece of paper that you found." She said.

Violet followed Granny Lou's instructions and grabbed the dusty box from the attic to the living room. Granny Lou touched the old papers and then grabbed a leather book, not knowing how long it has been in that box.

Violet sat next to Granny Lou, and then saw her eyes filled with tears. "I have never seen this book in a very long time." She caressed the timeless leather, the smell of crispy old coffee lingered in Violet's nose.

"Who does this belong to?" Violet questions, "surely it can't be yours, just feels like you would keep in the 30s." She nodded no, "this actually belongs to your great aunt, Althea V. Hammerstein." Her eyes can only send shock waves in surprise, no one ever told her about this part of family history. "Great aunt? I thought my great grandmother is the only child."

Granny Lou can only nod no, "unfortunately, they tried to hide that from me, when I found this very book, it changed everything what they told me. This isn't the norms that were taught before. This is rare back in the day. Of course, she didn't want me to remember the past."

The past, now Violet is intrigued by it now. "What past?" She questioned.

Granny Lou can only sigh, "Well, I think it's better for you to read the book. I think it would be better for you to go through in what I did." She handed me the leather book and Violet was still clueless in what she meant by that.

Nonetheless, she continued to organized the attic and last minute inspection of the whole perimeter of the inside, before she could lock it.

Violet descended down, and immediately got herself ready to start reading that holds in this book. She grabs the box, closes the door behind her and plopping down to the sound of creaking oak flooring.

She sat down and now they are out to the modern world. A long strand of pearls that's aged to a golden shine to it, a diamond earrings still intact, along with the ring, which she has to assume is Althea's engagement ring.

Violet took out the very first copy of "The Mysterious Affair at Styles," by Agatha Christie, the very first edition. It had that patina color to it, probably when Althea, in her free time, would read this. Then she saw the gleam under the sun. When she put her hand on it and it was a badge, engraved there was, Lt. Hammerstein, Homicide Division.

What everything taught in history class, was only the half that she heard and came into the conclusion that it was everything that could there be. "She was a detective." Violet muttered. And then saw the newspaper articles.

"Hammerstein has cracked on with the death of New York's heiress."

"She did it again! Infiltrated Mafia's bootlegging operation and now many fear her."

Violet can only marvel at the accomplishments that she has done in that era, how she defied the success as a woman. As she turned the page, she saw that there were gossips, ironically placed at the back of front page news of her success. Not all girls in that society were praised of their accomplishments but also flaws.

"SCANDALOUS ALERT! Hammerstein involved with a rich man in the Hampton?"

"That's some bullshit." Violet said, now putting it away in the box. She stopped taking all the objects inside the box and has now moved on to the book, the most anticipating part. She opened up the book and written her name, Althea V. Hammerstein, and the date of birth, November 27,1897. On the first page, it wrote, "If you found this journal, please return them back to the front desk of my apartment on 240 Centre Street." Now she turned the page and this is where her story begins.

1920. New York City. (POV Althea)

I am anticipating of her job as a possible detective, after graduating at the top of my class in University of Pennsylvania, majoring in psychology. I'm the only woman graduated, God forbid being on top of the class. I was different from my counterparts, I pass as white but they soon find that I'm not white.

"Country bumpkin, FLIP,(Fucking little island people), chink girl, brownie," Those were some of the words that not only bothered me but on the inside, pained all throughout life. Used to live in a brand new state of New Mexico, with my German-French father, Klaus, a Spanish-Filipino mother, Leonora and younger sister, Emile. Many around me were not too welcoming or keen enough to be around them, which prompted us to leave that place and move up to Montana by the age of 10. My parents started their own farm and thought that I had everything in control in my life, but I was wrong.

By the time I'm 18 years old, despite the pleas from my parents to not go, I headed to Philadelphia to attend University of Pennsylvania. I thought that everything would go according to my plan but there was also some problems with it. Nonetheless, I persevered and look where I'm at now.

I'm here now to New York City, the city of dreams and doom. I asked people around here where the New York City Police department is. "Excuse me," I asked couple men passing by, "can you help me find where the police department is?" Of course, they ignored me, going about their day.

"Insolent bastards!" I muttered under my breath, I continued to scramble around, asking more people for directions but is left with side comments or ignored me. Looking at my watch, 9 o'clock, only having one hour to spare. Standing away from passing daily commuters away, she needs to think methodically. I'm is currently in West 51st in Manhattan, which way would I have to go to?

All of the sudden, in the middle of the abyss in me thoughts, a cold splash of water suddenly hit my bare ankles, arms and fully soaking the clothes I wore. I was too surprised and impulsively ran to the car and kicked it, causing a dent on the front door.

"Have you lost your mind lady?!" He exclaimed to an visibly mad young woman, ready to go off. "Your stupid self needs to be aware of the surroundings around you!" I retorted back, controlling my emotions early in the morning.

"Well I'm sorry that my car splashed that outfit of yours." He was slightly disgusted with what I wore that day. "My outfit of mine? This is the only outfit that I have on you ungrateful cunt." Everyone looked at me, not because of the wet clothes she had on but the foul words I spoke, what a great day to go here.

The stranger playfully smirked at me, "get in." I had no choice, everyone is looking at us, so I jumped inside his car. I sighed loudly, looking at the outside to avoid any contact from him. "You can't avoid me forever." He said. I was at first, ignoring him but soon realized that I don't want anywhere around him. "Just drop me off here." I said.

"Where?" He asked. "Just drop me off there, I'll be good here." I said, not wanting to get too annoyed and irritated. The car abruptly stopped and she got out of the car. "See you later doll." He winked at me and then speeds off to the distance. "Doll, pathetic." My head said. But he at least dropped me off almost on the way to the precinct. I have start to pace myself until reaching to the front doors of the Police Department. I walked up to the front desk, "are you filling for a complaint?" He asked.

"Oh no! I am not filing a complaint, I'm here for an interview with Chief Police Traver." I reply back to the question. "Your work as a clerk?" He tried guessing, making me nod no.

"No, as a detective around here."

He looked up to her and laughed at that simple answer, "a detective? A woman as a detective in a police force like this! Woman, I think you should be at the house, cooking and cleaning around here, not getting yourself dirty."

"My name is not Woman but Althea, I don't mind getting my hands dirty ever since I was born into this world. I had the trouble of getting here and I am drenched in God knows what but if you don't tell me where his office, you don't want to know what I could do next." I retorted back, again not wanting to get myself angry early again.

He rolls his eyes, "Chief Traver is located at floor 7 and turn left." I smiled back, "Thank you so much."

I walked away from the front desk and in to the elevator. "Which floor do you want to go to Miss?" The elevator boy asked. "Floor 7 please." I replied back. He pressed the button is ready to close the door, when all of the sudden, a familiar man started to run to the direction of the elevator. "Stop there!" He yelled, but it was too late. It already and started to ascend up. "I'm in trouble after this." He said.

"Trouble? Why there?" I questioned, her Montana accent coming out. "I didn't stop the elevator and would've let him in first, he usually tips pretty big." He explained. I can only nod understandingly, "don't worry there, I'll tip you something." It took 5 minutes to reach up the top and once they are there, the doors open up slowly. As promised by me, I gave him a tip of five dollars. I walked out of the elevator, before he could say anything, heading to the Police Chief's office.

Althea knocked at Chief Traver's door, "come in." he said. She opened the door and saw that he was smoking a large Cuban cigar. "Hello Chief Traver, my name is Althea Hammerstein, and I am here for the 10:30 interview." I coyly said.

"Have a seat, Ms.Hammerstein, you are the first woman to be here in this station." His deep voice made my confidence go to the depths of earth. I sat down, straightening my skirt. "Why should you be in this dangerous job?" I sighed, "I think I would be a great asset to this precinct. It might be hard for people here to adjust that I would be in this workplace but there are things I can do that not many men here can pull off." I explained my answer.

He nodded reassuringly, "I think I would take this chance on you. Welcome to New York Police Department." I got up and shake his hand, "I am so honored." I walked out of the office and jumped for joy, knowing that this is the beginning of something new.