Signal's Messages

“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat” Cass sent a sharp look at her assistant as the elevator doors spilled out onto the second floor of the Coeur Grand Museum.

“Well, I’m sorry for thinking that catching the greatest thief in the world will be the least bit difficult, detective.”

Cass laughed, turning to look at the extravagant second floor, with marble pillars and innumerable paintings—barely any space on the wall that was bare.

Except for one spot across the hall.

“Were you on shift the night of the robbery, Ms. Wong?” she asked the guard as she stalked across the pathway.

“It was day actually” corrected Wong.

“Day?” Leo turned around to share a confused look with Cass, and she couldn’t help but share the sentiment. “The report stated it was 2:84 a.m.”

“The manager doesn’t want people knowing Signal stole right under his nose, from the Coeur Museum of all places. That too, in broad daylight.”

“Does your manager realize that lying about case details to an officer is an offence?”

Wong scoffed. “I doubt his ego cares.”

Cass leant down to read the small information board next to where the painting would’ve been. “Vagabond” she read aloud. Below that was the artist name (Arthur Dubois), the year painted (1944), the medium (oil paint), and finally the auction price. Leo had made his way to Cass’s side and frowned at the small sign. “$20,000? I thought that was a typo in the report. I bet this place worth millions. Why steal a mere $20,000?”

“The million-dollar pieces are more heavily guarded” Cass muttered, righting herself. She looked upwards, scanning for cameras. She spotted one in the left corner, and one on the adjacent wall, recording where Vagabond would’ve been.

“But this one doesn’t seem like ‘candy from a baby’ either. Those cameras, can I see their footage?”

“All cameras in the Coeur glitched around the time it happened. Signal really messed them up. We had to call experts in to fix them.”

“That man has probably caused more damage to CCTV cameras than anything else.” laughed Cass. She glanced back at the empty wall and noticed that the painting right beside her was hanging slanted away from the wall, as if something had been stuffed behind it. Cass moved the painting off its nail and a small black journal thudded against the quartz floor.

Cass picked it up, then held it up for Wong to see. “Have you ever seen this book?”

“No.”

Cass studied the jet-black cover of the book with interest, kneading her brows together. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. She flipped to the first page where, in scratchy handwriting, was a note from Signal himself.

This book belongs to: Signal. To: the lovely Detective Cassandra Auclait

Cass frowned, flipping through to the second page.

I thought I’d give you at least a chance at catching me, Detective. Below are the details for our dates. See you then!

As Cass flipped through the book, she realized it was filled to the brim with names of galleries and museums Signal was planning on stealing from, some even specifying which piece he was targeting. The dates were chronological, and the time was written down to the last minute.

“He wants you to catch him?” Leo asked later in the taxi, looking at Cass quizzically.

She shrugged and as she took out her wallet to pay, Leo spotted the picture Cass had framed proudly in its clear pocket.

“Detective, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s that? A boyfriend?”

“Huh? Oh! No, that’s Cedric, a friend.”

“A friend? Why would you put a picture of a friend in your wallet?” Leo’s tone was teasing, but Cass was not smiling.

She hurried out of the taxi without a word and Leo didn’t press for more.

They spent the rest of the afternoon huddled together, charting the list of museums Signal was planning on “visiting”. Cass had been arguing to go by what the book said to a reluctant Leo.

“If he doesn’t show up at Sightings Center tomorrow, we’d know that this entire list is a dud” Cass reasoned.

Leo ended up agreeing, but with the condition that they had get to call in all the backup they could get.

When Cass and Leo landed in Ireland—where the first gallery on Signal’s list was—they were met with a large team meant to be their backup.

As they surrounded Sightings Center at 5 am, just 13 minutes before the alleged robbery, Cass felt her heart tighten. Had she let Signal lead her on a wild goose chase?

Attempting to calm her nerves, she watched a feed of the inside of the museum on a monitor. Then, the cameras suddenly cut out. The loud sirens began to ring, and that was all Cass needed to confirm that Signal was here. Backup rushed inside from all possible exits.

For several unbearable minutes, Cass had no idea what was going on inside. She hated that she was not allowed to go in despite being the lead detective on the case. As the minutes passed, she heard no new updates, and she knew he was already gone.

That was confirmed when she was finally allowed to go in. In the spot where the sculpture “Clarity” once stood was a sticky note with the same handwriting as was in the black notebook.

Ditch the parade next time.

The audacity Signal spoke with was astounding to Cass. As if they were old friends. Not many people spoke to Cass that way, with the reputation that she had. Scoffing, she crumpled the note and stuck it in her pocket.

That night, Cass tried to convince Leo that she should go to Spain—the second destination on Signal’s list—alone.

“Sounds like a trap to me.” he had said.

But at the Lunar Gallery in Spain, everything went as Cass had expected. She watched as the cameras cut out at 1:04 a.m. —, the alarms rang a minute later, and it took a half hour search before the police declared that Signal was gone with another painting.

“I’m not asking for permission, Leo” Cass said that night, “I’m the detective on this case and I don’t take orders from assistants, understood?”

He nodded reluctantly, looking downtrodden. Cass hadn’t meant to blow up on him, but she was desperate to end this case, for some reason.

Cass arrived at the Design Institute at 7:30 a.m. alone, half an hour before what was written in the black book. As the time ticked closer to 8 am, Cass made her way through the dark corridors. Signal had specified that he was stealing from the Ancient Greek Exhibition, so she headed there.

Cass felt ridiculous standing alone in the shadows of the room, with one hand on the book, other on her gun. Her watch read 7:57.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up from the shadows and Cass jumped. “I know you recognize the book, Cass.”

Cass strained her eyes, peering out into the darkness. “Come out with your hands up, Signal, and you won’t get hurt.”

Signal stepped out into the moonlight shining through the skylight in the middle of the room.

Cass took her hand away from her gun. She didn’t want to use it. Instead, she reached for the book and held it up for him to see. He raised his brows, giving a careless look to the notebook.

“You recognize the book, don’t you?” he said again.

There was silence. Cass thought something about the book was familiar. But she had no idea what.

“It’s a black notebook. Everyone’s seen one.”

Signal laughed. “I guess you have a bad memory, detective. The higher ups eventually got you, didn’t they?”

Cass cautiously stepped closer and took the handcuffs chained to her belt out. “What higher ups?” She asked, despite herself and utterly confused. “What, you mean to say stealing priceless art pieces is your way of sticking it to the man?”

“That art isn’t meant to be displayed in galleries, detective.”

“They’re not exactly your property either. Who do you think you are? Some sort of reverse Banksy?”

“I’m better.”

“Are you?”

“You sure thought so.”

“I don’t know you.” Cass said rigidly. Her hand had instinctively gone to her gun, although she still had no intention of using it.

“Don’t you?” And without warning, he whipped off his mask.

Even in the small amount of lighting, Cass recognized him. Her jaw dropped as she whispered his name, somehow still unsure of herself, as if she couldn’t believe it. “Cedric?”

“Hey, Cass” he said, with an edge in his voice. “Remember the book now?”

She did. Of course, she did.

College. A black notebook. And Cedric.

They were best friends in college. The book was a gift from him to her, and they both used it as a place to store all their ideas. Plots, characters, incoherent sentences that never made sense a day later. They spent any free time they got writing in that book.

They planned on becoming co-authors. They would only ever write together. Either together, or not at all.

Then one Saturday, the book, and her best friend was gone. She dropped out of her writing degree a week later, when he was pronounced dead by police.

But the search hadn’t been long enough. Not for Cass. Wasn’t that why she was here right now, a gleaming detective badge in her pocket? No matter how long she searched, it would never be enough…not until she found him.

And she had. Here he was, a ski mask clutched tightly in his hand.

“Cedric, what are you doing?”

“Carrying out our plans. I thought we’d do them together but here we are. Opposite ends”

“What…...?” Cass asked, dumbfounded, “What plans?”

“The heist.” Cedric’s eyes were wide now, and that combined with his messy hair and grimy face made him look crazy. “We wrote all about it, remember?”

She paid no heed to his insane words. She realized she was angry. No, she was beyond angry. All these years Cass spent looking for him, and now he was ranting about…. what again? Heists?

“We wrote all the details. Every passageway, every camera….”

“Are you out of your mind!?” She shouted, her voice ricocheting off the walls. “You disappeared into thin air! I’ve been looking for you since the day you went missing. It’s been 5 years!” Her voice cracked. “And you turn up like this!? Playing stupid games with this book!?”

She angrily threw it at his feet. He didn’t even look at it.

“I didn’t go missing. I left” Cedric said quietly.

“What?” Cass had heard him.

“I left” He said, louder. “I chose to go.”

“You chose? You just chose to get up and leave right when you knew I needed you!? When you knew you were all I had?! Was it that easy?”

“Being someone else’s need is a waste of time.” Cedric sounded emotionless.

“A waste of time?” Cass gritted her teeth. “No, you know what’s a waste of time? Spending your whole life looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found! A missing person who was never missing! That’s a waste of time!” Her voice boomed now, and tears blurred her sight.

There was a silence, and even though her blurry vision she could see Cedric backing away into the darkness. She stood in the silence for a bit, letting it envelop her, and she knew that he had left.

She stared at the book on the floor and picked it up. She was confused at what had just happened, it felt like a distant dream. But still, she was determined on finding him. Now for a very different reason than before. She glanced down at the handcuffs she was holding, then clipped them back onto her belt.

Then she took the picture out of her wallet. She had a lead.