Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl ain't mine. But he's fun to play with anyways.
Summary: When the Mona Lisa disappears without a trace from the Louvre's Salle des Etats by means that only a dwarf could pull off, the LEP recieves a ransom note of roughly Koboi proportions.The thief left something behind in the museum. Something that was meant to be found. Desperate and running out of time, the LEP turns to now 25-year-old Artemis Fowl for help in quickly recovering the artifact. Problem is, someone's already found it -and she's not going to give it back without a fight.
THE NEW YORK TIMES
MONA LISA VANISHES FROM THE LOUVRE.
Police and Museum officials baffled.
By Camilla Buriers, Special correspondent.
"At 8:30 this morning, Security guards opened the Louvre to find that the priceless DaVinci masterpiece had vanished from its protective plexi-glass case in the museum's impenetrable Salle des Etats.
The painting appears to have been removed through a large hole that had been melted into the front of the case. Louvre security and Paris' Judicial police force is in uproar as no alarms went off during or after the theft and all the rooms cameras appeared to have been turned so that they could not capture the intruder(s) image.
An investigation is underway to determine why the alarms and moisture/humidity sensors were not set off by the thief's presence while the government and the Louvre officials can only plead for the painting's safe return of their beloved DaVinci masterpiece while Paris' citizens weep in the streets.
The Mona Lisa was painted by the renowned and brilliant Renaissance inventor and painter, Leonardo DaVinci in 1503 in the beautiful and difficult sfumato style…"
Twenty-five-year old Artemis Fowl threw down the newspaper in disgust and began to pace the study of his penthouse above Dublin's harbour. The theft positively screamed dwarf involvement, from the seemingly invisible entry and exit due to the rotated camera's to the melted plexiglass case in the Salle des Etats. The hole had been caused by Dwarf Rock Polish, if he was not mistaken.
The thing that troubled Artemis was that the only dwarf he knew who had given up his magic and had extensive experience with breaking into high-security human establishments was currently on vacation with his business partner in Atlantis, but then Mulch had always said breaking into human dwellings had always been a piece of cake, so long as there were no dogs and Artemis knew the Louvre didn't have any. Dog dander tended to stick to the paintings.
But then, Artemis knew that Mulch wasn't the only dwarf out there with sticky fingers and no stomach for spells.
His fingers were already reaching for the fairy communicator on his belt (He had long since disguised it as a cell phone) when it began to buzz and vibrate.
With a small smile, Artemis plucked it from his belt and flipped it open to reveal the nut-brown visage and large hazel eyes of one Holly Short, a former captain in the Lower Elements Police force's Recon division and now a Private Eye with more tricks up her sleeve than the average magician.
The look on his old friend's face stilled Artemis' grin.
"Artemis," she said, her expression grave.
"Holly – I take it you've seen today's newscast."
She nodded.
"I just heard from Foaly that Police Plaza just received a ransom note for the painting. It indicated that the thief left something behind up there."
Artemis' grin faded from his expression altogether. "Something fairy related." He guessed.
Holly nodded once more.
"We're facing another Koboi situation – and yes -"said Holly, catching Artemis' expression, "She's still in Howler's Peak. We checked first thing. She's alert and cheering on whoever this bastard is. Warden says she's glued to the TV in the common room."
Artemis frowned. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not that Opal Koboi wasn't involved this time. Part of him longed to have another crack at the tiny pixie-turned-human. He knew Butler also wished for another chance to bring her down – She had killed Julius and very nearly destroyed all of Haven, the fairies underground city that protected and hid them from the majority of humanity, and being locked up in Howler's peak, the high-security goblin prison, didn't alleviate the feeling that Opal had gotten off easily for her crimes.
"Were there any other details about what was left behind?" asked Artemis, crossing the room and turning on CNN on the widescreen TV that sat behind a wall panel on the side of the room furthest from the windows.
Holly nodded again. "Foaly said the message contained some mention of the Rosetta stone. He said it could be taken literally or figuratively, but he leans towards figuratively, because the stone is still in the British museum."
"Rosetta stone can be used as a metaphor to deciphering something," replied Artemis. "I have noticed that several of the older Egyptian monuments have several sections that are marked in Gnommish. Perhaps the object that was left behind will lead to Egypt. Either way, it will be a key of some sort to Fairy society."
"Exactly."
"And you want me to go get it?" extrapolated Artemis as he scanned the headlines that flashed beneath the news anchor's picture.
Holly smiled for the first time since the conversation started.
"You've still got it, Mud-boy."
"Tell me, does Commander Sool approve of this?"
Holly laughed.
"Not in the slightest, but Foaly suggested it and no one could come up with a better idea save a full blown retrieval unit and it's going to take 48 hours to clear one. Sool had the whole department against him – ten years and he still hasn't inspired any loyalty among his men. The only reason they don't fire him is because he does everything right," said Holly with smirk as she glanced off screen.
Artemis felt a small smile quirk at his face. His distaste for the LEP commander matched Holly's.
"So you want me to go to Paris and retrieve whatever this thief left behind."
"Actually," came a different, familiar voice over the connection as the screen widened. "We want you to do this."
Artemis grinned as the Ops booth at Police plaza and five more familiar faces came into view – Foaly the centaur; the LEP tech advisor and Haven's leading developer, Mulch Diggums; the kleptomaniac dwarf and Holly's partner in the P.I. business they ran, Major Trouble Kelp; famous for the name that he had chosen at his coming-of-age ceremony and his hands-on method when it came to police work, a grumpy looking Ark Sool; Haven's LEPrecon commander-in-chief and surprisingly enough, a stern looking Wing Commander Vinyaya of the Fairy council.
"Foaly, Mulch, Major Kelp, Commander Vinyaya – Sool," said Artemis, nodding to each of them in turn. Sool glowered at him. It was very clear that the tall (for a fairy) and pinched looking gnome would have preferred to be somewhere else.
Foaly clopped forward, his hoofs rapping on the Ops booth tiled floor.
"We're already prepping a Retrieval team, but Paris is a very difficult place to do a time stop – If I'm not there of course," he added with a whinny, before continuing. "We're lucky that the Louvre has the Tuileries gardens and lots of space to park a shuttle on the roof but with the Judicial police force's investigation going on, it'll be noticed if some of the DCPJ's officers go missing in time…."
Artemis nodded, understanding the implications.
"Can't you knock them out?" He asked, thinking of the time he had escaped Foaly's Time field and subsequent bio-bomb by drugging himself, Juliet and his bodyguard, the mountainous Butler some thirteen years previously during his initial scuffle with the fairies over Holly Short's kidnapping and the LEP ransom fund.
Foaly nodded, absently scratching his flank with a hairy hand as he deftly manipulated the Gnommish keyboard in front of him with the other.
"That's what we were planning, but either way, it'll look suspicious – but if you go in there, and find what we're looking for before the DCPJ stumble across it, we won't have to worry about it. I've just booked two seats on a flight to Paris. Butler will be coming with you, I assume?"
"Of course he will." A rumbling bass voice came from the doorway. Butler stood just inside the room's threshold, a cup of the Earl Grey tea that Artemis had asked for earlier in his hand. "What's this all about?"
"I'll explain in the car," said Artemis to him, before refocusing on the communicator "I'll get going right away. I'll report in once we touch down in Paris. Fowl out."
"Good luck Mud-boy!" called Holly from behind Foaly as the screen winked out.
"We'll need it, I think," muttered Artemis, flipping the phone shut and sliding it onto his belt.
Four and a half hours later, he and Butler were striding across the Louvre's enormous plaza towards the large, glass pyramid that rose stood in the center of the courtyard, its 666 pieces of glass reflecting the sky and the Louvre surrounding it in startling and fractured detail.
Butler had made a call to an old colleague of his whom now was a lieutenant in the DCPJ and had told him that he and a friend had uncovered some information about the crime that they would have liked to investigate to see if it held any worth to the DCPJ. Since this particular old colleague conveniently owed his life to Butler, it was little trouble for the man to arrange for them two have a few minutes to poke around the Salle des Etats.
Since Agent Gerould's superiors were desperate for any leads, they had agreed to Gerould's proposal. Butler pointed to a slim figure standing just outside of the main entrance as they approached it.
"That's him. Sebastian Gerould."
Sebastian Gerould was thin and quite short. He had light blonde hair, tinged with grey and pale green eyes that reminded Artemis vaguely of a cat's night eyes. He greeted Butler warmly and shook Artemis' hand, eyeing the small silver briefcase that Artemis carried in his other hand suspiciously.
"Investigative equipment," supplied Artemis and Gerould nodded.
"So, what is information that you would like to test?" he asked in English as he led them into the museum. His accent was light and had a touch of an Australian twang to it. Artemis couldn't begin to imagine why he had it, but if the man knew Butler, anything was possible.
"As you know, Mr. Gerould," replied Artemis succinctly, paying little attention to his grandiose surroundings in the atrium under the pyramid. "My family's dealings on the far side of the law have given us some more - interesting - contacts. I received telling of a rumor that I thought was worthy of investigation. In the interests of my sources, I cannot tell you anything more."
Gerould nodded thoughtfully.
"Very well," he said, leading them across the brilliantly lit atrium and up a set of stairs to the arched gateway that led to the Denon wing. Two flights of escalators later, they were striding towards the Louvre's Grande Galerie. Besides the police perimeter that Artemis had seen around the museum, the two police officers standing guard at the entrance of the Louvre's most popular section were the first sign of any Judicial police activity that he had seen.
The Grand Gallery beyond was similarly devoid of life as the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows. Artemis noted that the containment gates hadn't been lowered. The security system didn't seem to realize that the most valuable thing that it protected was gone.
"There's a PTS team in the Salle de Etats already, but they have been told to take a break. You have free reign of the room, under my supervision, as long as you do not touch any of their equipment."
Artemis nodded, as they stared having expected those terms. As they began to make their way down the Grand Gallery, an angry voice rang out from behind them.
"Agent Gerould!"
Gerould winced as they turned around, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. Artemis raised his eyebrows at the sight of a pretty, slim young woman stalking down the corridor towards them. Her long dark hair was loose and trailed after her as she walked and she wore jeans, an olive coloured turtleneck sweater and what looked like leather boots. Her hazel eyes were narrowed and her mouth was drawn into a straight line, the severity of her expression at odds with the delicate-seeming features of her face. She looked ready to throw down.
"Ah…" Gerould raised his arms placatingly. "Mademoiselle Black - I thought you were busy in the curator's office."
"Don't you dare 'Mademoiselle' Black me, Gerould. I've had it up to here with all your condescending dipshit," snarled Black, making a vehement gesture somewhere above her head as she approached them. Artemis noticed that her French was tinged with a British accent and she walked with a very small, but distinct limp that favoured her right side. She was wearing a prosthetic leg under her jeans.
"Who are these men, what are they doing here and why the hellwasn't I notified?" Demanded Black angrily. Gerould sighed.
"Mr. Fowl, Mr. Butler, I apologize for not introducing you to Miss Andrea Black, the curator's secretary and -" he coughed slightly. "- personal assistant."
He turned to Black, who was standing still, with her hands on her hips and glaring at the short man with an expression of the utmost distaste.
"Miss Black, this is Artemis Fowl, one of Ireland's most prominent Art collectors and scientific minds and his associate, Mr. Butler,"
Andrea Black was unimpressed. "Art collector you say? How do we know you didn't take La Gioconda?" She asked, eyeing him critically. Artemis smiled. He couldn't help but see why the DCPJ treated this woman with some amount of condescension.
"If I took it, Miss Black, then why would I be here to investigate?" He asked politely, holding up his briefcase.
"Oh I can think of dozens of reasons, Mr. Fowl," said Andrea Black patronizingly as she raised a delicately arched eyebrow. "Perhaps you're here to sabotage the PTS equipment or maybe - recover something you left behind?" Her hazel eyes watched him carefully.
Artemis frowned. "Don't be ridiculous," he said coolly, meeting her suspicious gaze squarely. Perhaps she knows something.
Agent Gerould snorted irritably. "Miss Black, the DCPJ's investigation is not yours to command or instigate. You do not need to be informed of everything we do, even if the curator requested it."
Andrea turned back to Agent Gerould. "I supervise the day to day runnings of this wing. I know everything from which of the paintings are slated for restoration to which of the toilet stalls need more toilet paper. If you don't like the fact that the curator put me in charge of relations with the police, then you can go to hell and they can send someone in who's less irritating and insufferable."
Gerould rolled his eyes and stalked off down the hallway. Artemis, Butler and Black followed. "To think," he muttered under his breath to Artemis, "- that two years ago, she was a lowly art student at the University of London. She's a nightmare. One that we've been ordered to tolerate."
"I heard that," snapped Black, coming up behind them. "You're not the only one who was ordered to be tolerant, so quit your whining."
"Are you always this unpleasant?" asked Artemis innocently, glancing over his shoulder at her. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked slightly thrown by the question. After a moment and a stern look at Gerould, she shook her head.
The entrance to the Salle de Etats was roped off and Gerould unhooked it and stood aside to let Artemis, Butler and Andrea past. As he entered, Artemis took note to a folding table that had been set up in the middle of the room and on it, various pieces of lab equipment and evidence bags were strewn about.
Setting down his briefcase on the railing that kept museum goers a few feet back from the Mona Lisa, he opened it and donned a pair of latex gloves, before handing a pair to Butler. He offered a pair to Andrea, who unlike Gerould – who was standing by the door looking distinctly bored – was hovering over them, trying to see what was in the briefcase. She took them.
Looking up, he studied the Mona Lisa's case. It seemed relatively untouched, save for the fact that there was a gaping hole in the thick glass and the portrait itself was missing.
"There were no fingerprints," she noted, catching his look
Artemis nodded and dug around in his briefcase. Pulling out a finger print dusting kit and fairy-made substance sampler, he handed the items to Butler.
"Butler, could you dust the area above the case while I look around?"
"Yes Artemis," said Butler, taking the kit and crossing the room to the plexiglass case. Andrea made a small indignant noise that sounded half-way between gyah! and humph! and situated herself right behind Butler as he slowly ducked under the railing and popped open the little dusting kit.
Artemis smiled at his foresight and began to examine the room systematically, poking around in the corners, making his way from the Mona Lisa's empty case to the gigantic Marriage of Cana which hung across the room. There was nothing out of place, save a variety of PTS investigative equipment, which he looked over. The evidence in the multitude of bags and containers seemed to be numerous hair samples and the odd small item. Nothing that appeared to be fairy related at first glance.
Never one to be daunted by the thought of a thorough search, Artemis returned to his briefcase. Glancing up, he saw that Butler had been brought a chair during the fifteen minutes he had spent looking around and was in the middle of both dusting the top of the case and lifting samples from the edges of the melted glass. As he was about to pull out his X-ray panel, the communicator on his belt began to vibrate.
With a sigh, he flipped it open and thumbed down the volume, before turning away and bringing it to his ear.
"Fowl."
"Artemis, just why am I staring at your ear?" Holly's indignant voice came over the line.
"For the sake of appearances, Holly."
"I see… Anyways, Foaly's been checking up on humans who have come into contact with the fairies. We just discovered that Spiro's been out of jail for about two years. Foaly can't find him."
Artemis frowned. "Do you think he's involved?"
"It's a one in a million chance, but Foaly and I thought it would be a good idea to warn you. We don't know what we're dealing with, and if it was Spiro, at least we'd know what we're up against. Have you found anything yet?"
"No. I have Butler dusting and taking samples and I did a once over of the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary."
"Seemed huh?" said Holly sarcastically. "Mud boy thinks there's something that was missed?"
"Yes. Either missed or taken as taken as evidence, then overlooked or perhaps…" he trailed off slightly as a new idea occurred to him. "Perhaps something was taken from the room before the police arrived. Excuse me for a moment Holly-" he mimed covering the communicator's microphone, knowing perfectly well that it would pick up everything in the room regardless and turned around, only to find himself face to face with a suspicious Andrea Black.
"Who're you talking to?" she asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow as Artemis reigned in his expression, so that he did not appear as surprised as he felt. He hadn't heard her approach. Come to think of it, he hadn't heard her footsteps when they had been walking through the grand Gallery. For someone with a prosthetic limb, she was remarkably quiet when moving around. Even his father, who was now as nimble as most boys when moving about with his prosthetic leg, tended to make a slight scuffing noise when he walked.
"A friend," replied Artemis. "May I ask who exactly discovered that the Mona Lisa was missing this morning?"
Andrea's expression flickered with anxiety. "Me," she said after a long silence.
"Did you find anything unusual besides the fact that the painting was missing?" asked Artemis calmly, already knowing the answer, even if she wasn't about to divulge it quickly.
"No - I-I just came in to turn on the lights and then I saw it was gone and I ran back to the curator's office and called the Police."
"Did you say anything to the curator?" asked Artemis pointedly. Andrea shook her head. "No. Henri wasn't here yet. He's never here as early as I am – or the rest of the staff for that matter."
"Why did he give you the job as his personal assistant?"
Andrea rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty, if you haven't noticed. He describes it as having a nice piece of art that works for him. I'd be out of here if my family didn't owe him so much, the old bastard. One would think it was a treat to work among all these works of art, but not with him around."
"Owe him?" Artemis was interested, despite himself.
"He's a great-uncle of sorts on my mom's side. Loaned my dad about fifty thousand Euro several years ago. Dad couldn't pay it back. It was either be sued out of house and home or I would work here for the next five years. You can guess which option was picked."
Artemis nodded, understanding the reason behind her tough-as-nails attitude.
"What did you find in here, Andrea?" he said suddenly, changing the subject back to what he was originally planning to question her about.
Looking startled, Andrea bit her lip. Glancing over at Gerould, who was perusing a painting by the doorway, she dug something out of her pocket and quickly pressed it into his hand. It was a small object, about the size of a matchbox and it felt suspiciously familiar.
Turning so his back was to the door, Artemis opened his hand and his heart clenched slightly. He was holding a copy of the Book.
A/N: hmmm... Interesting ending there, eh? ;)
I hope you liked it and please review!
I have the second chapter written, but I'm not updating this until I update my other two major fics; Heirof the Pheonix: Fate and Learning my way,both of which have their next chapters about 50 and 75 finished respectively. I've also opened an account on DeviantART, the link to which can be found in my profile.
Mockingbirdflyaway