The Investigation Begins

Unknowingly, Scarlet parked the small cop car exactly where the thieves had the few nights before. All she knew was that it seemed less crowded. And crossing the street to examine the crime scene wasn't a big deal. "Why'd you park so far??" Bart groaned into his window.

She simply rolled her eyes and exited the vehicle, "I didn't," she insisted before leaving him to his lonesome.

He huffed and held his arms firmly over his chest. He almost thought about making stupid faces at her. Sometimes it was so annoying when she got serious.

She couldn't agree more. Only, Scarlet wished she wasn't the sole provider of this partnership. She shook those thoughts from her head and ducked under the security tape. If she didn't have a partner, she wouldn't be able to solve *any* case. If she couldn't solve any case, then this mini Gotham would remain corrupt forever. She couldn't let that happen.

"What chu get from the cams?" she asked the nearest officer.

The cop shrugged at her question, "Not much." he reported dryly, rather bored if he was being frank, "They didn't waste time cutting the footage."

Scar gave a nod, "You said they?" Of course he was bored. She'd spent an extra 30 minutes simply waiting for her lazy partner to arrive.

The officer affirmed and moved to her side to showcase his clip board, specifically the couple of blurry pics they managed to gather from the ratchety camera system. "Two perks, one tall, skinny -- most likely female. Raulph guesses early twenties. The other's short and stalky."

CONTINUE:

She slowly bobbed her curly head, lightly scratching the photo's edge with her pristine jet nails, "So Raulph, didn't get any footage of the act?" she asked, letting the sprite young man breath onto her neck for a moment. Scarlet was *really* wandering when her partner would decide to enter the scene.

He shook his head and took a step back. "Uh.. no."

Scarlet, proud of his professionalism, smiled and dismissed him with a thank you before walking in, pulling on her gloves. "Smashed it, but not the glass.." the detective mumbled under her breath about how arrogant this criminal must be while taking a sample of Shane's shattered lock.

"Mm, smart." Bart said, looking over her shoulder.

Scarlet's skin jumped but her eyes glowered. "Yes, Bartholomew, commend the enemy." she scoffed, but as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Though it would have been easier, they'd have been there in ten tops. Clearly this person had a history of break-ins. He was experienced.

"Sounds like someone else I know," he failed to flirt.

Scarlet simply shook her head at him and shoved her plastic bag into Bart's stomache. "Just get this analyzed."

"Why?" he dared to challenge her, honestly kind of annoyed now too, "Isn't it just some iron??"

"Yes," she nearly hissed. He frowned and brushed his brown bangs aside, "And aluminum. I don't know what else, just don't loose it this time."

"What? C'mon Scar, that was an accident."

She just rolled her eyes. 'An accident.' she thought before turning back to her crime scene. The method was too obvious to even explain to him. The criminal froze the lock, probably with a can of liquid nitrogen, then used something -- probably the can itself, based off the chips of aluminum within the iron sample.

'What's got *her* panties in a bunch?' he thought, clearly pouting while playing on his phone. She was never this irritated... er, at least not this early. He hadn't even done anything! Maybe that was the problem??

While she gradually drifted across the empty jewelry cases, considering the polar techniques of both perps, Bart picked up the note they left -- which she'd obviously already seen, read, and decided to ignore. "This important?"

"No," she answered without even glancing to him.

"But you haven't even--."

Scar's brows furrowed in annoyance, "I *have*, and it's utterly unhelpful."

"What? How do you--"

The firey woman interrupted his most likely idiotic question with a snap, "Fine! Put it in evidence. If it *is* important, we'll might need it later."

Bart grumbled under his breath, "I'm your partner, not your errand boy."

After a few minutes of silence, Scarlet regained enough patience to ask, "What do you think of the intact locks?"

Bart looked up from his phone in a bout of confusion, "..Um, I dunno. It probably took longer than hitting it?"

Flashing a smile, Scarlet nodded her approval, "Yes." he stands a little straighter and adjusts his wire rimmed glasses. She continued on like a school teacher, "Notice her approach: Lock picking, it's slow," he smiled, letting her know that he was, in fact, paying attention, "And difficult, inefficient, but effective. Why do you think she didn't just copy him?"

Bart looked around anxiously, all his confidence falling in the face of her simple question, "It's most likely, because she wasn't here just for the money. Lock picking takes a careful hand, skill. She was trying to impress Mr. Can." Whether she failed or not, Detective O'Bryvan couldn't tell.

"You think we've got a Bonny and Clide sitch?" Though lowly, Scarlet actually chuckled at the question.

Looking back to the empty containers, she scraped her gloved finger across the top of the empty case then rubbed the dust away, "I'm not sure. It's too early to tell. But I *do* know that they have to be half crazy to rob this place."

Bart's head cocked, "Why?"

Scar glanced up to him with a brow raised before proceeding to shake her head, "*Because*," honestly she couldn't believe he was even asking that question. It was too obvious, "Ironclad doesn't take kindly to someone... unless it's their own."

Befuddled Bart dared to ask yet another silly question, "What do you mean?"

Her patience lessened once more,"I mean," she jabbed her hand out to the side, "Think about it, Bart. Who else would attack this place?" Scarlet frowned at the answer forming on his lips and decided to walk towards him, the bagged note really, and huffed, "But why would they leave a note?" Rubbing her chin, she began to pace from him to the shop's barred front door and back, "This isn't like them!"

Bart just shrugged, his heart fluttering every time she came close, "Y-yeah I dunno." he looked to his raggedy, cracking, brown converse, and sighed deeply. "It's probably not them."

To his surprise, she agreed with a nod, "You're right. It's not." In shock he glanced up from the phone in his hands and grinned. He finally got something right! "Unless..." She slowed to a halt at one Jesseye's intact locks, "They're training a progeny!"

Poor Bart's face contorted with bafflement once more and bent down by same lock she was, "Progeny?" he asked, hoping the closer distance would somehow help his fuzzy mind.

Detective O'Bryvan quickly nodded before jumping into action once more,"Yeah!" she exclaimed, throwing a fist into the air. They were already getting somewhere! "Someone new to rear up to..." And her hypothesis fell a part. Deflating, she decided to return to the empty case and stare with Bart at it some more.

"Maybe, but why'd they do that? Only places they can't get are in Richmound."

"Richmond," she corrected without thought."Richmond." She repeated more quietly, lightly touching the clouded glass with her fingertips. Could these cases connect somehow? She wasn't sure. Nothing truly pointed to that, not yet at least. All she knew was that one of the thieving styles matched Ironclad.