"I was not prepared for what would happen after Professeur Layton, Luke and my daughter left the Louvre..."

"Inspector, I apologize for departing so quickly, but would you mind if Luke and I returned to our hotel? There's something I'd like to check..."

Vergier nodded his assent to Professor Layton. "Of course, if you think you can garner any more information." He aimed a death glare at the guards dawdling around the Denon Wing; they were probably pondering how they would be punished for their incompetency. "Now, I must speak with the museum security about their lacking standards."

As he stalked away, Vergier heard Charlotte state that she was heading out with Layton and Luke to continue their investigation together. Bon. At least his impertinent child wouldn't be in the way. The professeur would surely keep a close eye on Charlotte and avoid any trouble. (Perhaps the Englishman could even teach her some etiquette manners.)

Isabelle Giles, Joseph's apparent replacement, managed to retain a straight face as Vergier surged towards her and her colleagues. "Is something the matter, Monsieur Inspector?"

Vergier got right to the point. "Why did none of you inform me about the latest security footage?"

"You mean the footage of Phantom R?" Isabelle traded quick glances with the other guards. "We did not want to waste your time. It is extremely obvious that the rhythm thief was at fault here."

"Still, some notice would have been appreciated. That footage is crucial evidence." (Even if it is rather suspicious, Vergier thought.) Next he admonished Isabelle, "And you should have asked for permission before altering my security system."

"I believe you should actually be thanking me for that," the woman retorted, "If I had not acted, Phantom R would have broken into the security room, per usual..."

Offended, Vergier snapped, "I am repairing the system, regardless. While I do that, I want you all to scour the exhibits and give me a list of every last item that has been stolen. Am I clear?"

"Oui, Inspector," the guards saluted and scattered. Hopefully they were capable of carrying out that simple task. Vergier shook his head with a sigh. He had never seen such irresponsible 'rookies'!

A while later Vergier had fixed the security room's lock so that it would respond to his voice alone. (Good luck to any intruders trying to get past that.) He then opted to double check the camera footage in case he and the professeur had missed anything earlier.

Re-watching the film of the supposed Phantom R prancing around the museum, Vergier realized just how out of character this behaviour was for the rhythm thief. No one could deny that Phantom R was always so irritatingly crafty. What was more; he usually left some kind of note as if to mock the Constabulary of his presence at a crime scene. There had not been any warning note this time as far as Vergier was aware...

Vergier hummed; his gaze scanning screens. He adjusted his glasses when he saw something on the bottom left monitor he had overlooked with Professeur Layton. "That is odd..."

For some strange reason, there was an abundance of wooden crates in the museum basement. Of course the room was often used for storage, but where had these extra boxes come from?

When Vergier went downstairs to investigate the basement, he discovered the doors were unlocked. Perhaps the guards had been in here recently...? The inspector frowned as recognised a word written across the wooden boxes: 'Portsmouth'. That had also been on the piece of paper Charlotte had picked up...

Whatever was hidden in these crates held some significance. Grabbing a convenient crowbar off the floor, Vergier began to pry to the boxes open. Inside them, he was astounded to find paintings, sculptures and relics... all the items that were missing from the exhibits. They had never even left the Louvre!

As he wondered why the thief would do such a daft thing, Vergier noticed one crate remained, larger than the others. He heaved the crate's top off and peered inside. His eyes widened at the sight of the five museum guards... the real museum guards, who were trapped within.

Vergier uttered, "No..."

Someone attempted to take advantage of his shock by swinging a heavy crate lid at his head. However, Vergier had heard their approach. He ducked and spun around to glare at Isabelle and two of her posse members.

"Who are you imposters?" Vergier demanded, wielding his crowbar menacingly.

"That is none of your concern, Inspector," Isabelle replied coolly. She snapped her fingers and her male accomplices charged at him.

Vergier blocked them with the crowbar until he had pulled out his pistols. But before he could fire a single shot, the guns were knocked out of his hands, lost in the shadowy room. Grunting, Vergier crow-barred his attackers in the brows and made a dash for the doors, escaping from the basement.

As much as he hated it, he needed to retreat for now and return with reinforcements later. The Constabulary and Professeur Layton would help him free Joseph and the other guards...

Suddenly, there was a small explosion, obstructing Vergier's break for freedom down the basement corridor. A ball of smoke blasted across his vision. Vergier shielded his mouth with his sleeve, but the brunt of the suffocating fumes invaded his lungs. The inspector collapsed, coughing uncontrollably. Although aggravated tears blurred his gaze, he discerned the outline of another figure through the smoke. A figure with very pointy hair...

"It seems your smoke bombs were not entirely useless after all, Paolo." Isabelle's voice. Vergier barely registered her boot kicking him in the eye.

"I can't believe you nearly let this guy escape," the one called Paolo quipped. "Sooner or later Layton will notice if he's missing."

"Then you will have to take the good inspector's place, for now. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Of course! Disguises are my specialty..."

One of Vergier's last coherent thoughts was that he might not make it home tonight. Yet again Charlotte would believe he never had time for her. Who would protect his petite fille and Paris now? He had failed not only as a police officer, but as a father; he had broken his promise...

Forgive me, Emma.

[[This was originally meant to be a chapter in the main narrative, but I decided to upload it as a Bonus Chapter instead. I'm just sorry if Vergier is OOC. I might write a one or two more bonus chapters, though I have no idea what they'll be about.

*Edit: Edited some spelling/ spacing errors!]]