Black Mail

Chapter 1

Chief Samuel surveyed the three girls in front of him suspiciously. They'd just been assigned to a blackmail case.

"I'll have to put you with a mentor." He stood up, and motioning to the girls, walked out of his office. Rapping sharply on the frosted glass of Inspector Beuregarde's office, Chief Samuel glowered at the girls as Inspector Beuregarde, green-eyed and sandy-haired and rumpled, opened the door and said sleepily,

"Yes?"

"Amateurs assigned to a case," grumbled Chief Samuel, jerking his head at the three girls. He stomped away, muttering about no free inspectors and too many cases. The three girls cowered together as Inspector Beuregarde studied them with half-closed eyes. Finally he said,

"Come in." the girls tiptoed in and sat on the stiff, shiny plastic-upholstered couch, clutching the precious manila file which held their case.

"So!" Inspector Beuregarde clapped his hands. The three girls jumped.

"First: your names."

"Mavis." A small black-haired girl squeaked.

"Mikara." A taller black-haired girl said softly.

"Tyra." A young blonde smiled.

"Right. Give me the file." Inspector Beuregarde held out his hand, and Mikara stood up and handed him the file, squashing herself back down on the couch. Inspector Beuregarde flipped slowly through the file and skimmed through the few notes. He shook his head several times and sighed.

"This might get dangerous." he finally concluded, spreading out the few pages on his desk. All three girls traded edgy glances but remained silent, watching as their mentor examined the evidence closer.

"Well, don't just sit there. Do you expect to solve the case by just sitting there? No! Come here and examine the evidence. I need to see how you work."

Timidly, the three girls stood up and inched closer to the desk, carefully reading the papers.

"No, no. You don't read it like it's a novel or a nursery rhyme. Read it like a piece of art."

The girls traded confused glances, but they tried to read it closer. After a few minutes, Inspector Beuregarde whisked away the papers and barked,

"Tell me what you read."

"Blackmail." all three girls said together.

"And?" Inspector Beuregarde prompted.

"General March has reported blackmail to the police."

"Son of a..." Inspector Beuregarde ran his hands through his blonde hair and groaned.

"He wasn't kidding when he said you guys were amateurs."

For the next hour or so, the girls memorised the evidence, practiced unscrambling codes, worked on basic self defense and medical tending, practiced lifting fingerprints from pieces of evidence and dismantled mock bombs. Finally, Inspector Beuregarde let them go.

"Be back here at six a.m. sharp tomorrow. We'll start the real investigation then."

Early the next morning, all three girls were assembled in his office, clutching coffee and blinking sleepily. The Inspector himself was bright and awake and peppy, having taken twelve shots of espresso. He led them, bounce-walking, down the street and to General March's house, the man who reported the blackmail. He pulled himself together before ringing the doorbell, but he couldn't contain the random spasms through his body.

"M-maybe I s-should have t-taken less e-espresso!" he said in eccentric spasms. The door was opened by a man in a pair of blue pinstripe pajamas, his hair in messy spikes, his eyes hooded with sleep. As soon as he saw the four people standing outside (one of them riddled with odd jerks) his eyes brightened and he ran his hands through his silvery hair.

"Good morning. Come in!" he beckoned them into the house. They trooped in. On the kitchen table sat three notes on inky black paper, written with white ink. Everyone crowded around the table and began to feverishly read the notes.

General Thomas March,

I know what you've done. Want me to expose you to the whole world? No? Then give me ten thousand- in cash. Leave it at Page Park, by the statue of you. If you don't- that secret is going to slip out of my fingers and onto social media. Shh!

BlackJack

General Thomas March,

I've received the five thousand you gave me. Be a good man and fork over five thousand more, will you? Or you can kiss your reputation goodbye. You have seventy-two hours, or your secret is out the door and I'll set my men on you.

BlackJack

General Thomas March,

You have twenty-four hours left. You know what happens if you don't give me the rest of the five thousand.

BlackJack

Inspector Beuregarde read the notes slowly- two times, in fact, while the girls started to analyze it quietly. At last, Inspector Beuregarde said slowly,

"I have a plan... but it might be extremely risky. It's basic, but it might work."

"What is it?"

"Put some money there, wait it out and follow them, just to find their location."

"Well, I suppose that is risky, but we could try it," Tyra said, slowly.

"True." Mavis agreed. "So, let's get the money together. At eight let's go to the park and bring along some fake money... then we'll follow whoever it is and see where they camp out at."

Everyone else nodded, and they began their plan. Little did they know, the small blackmail case would turn out to be something much, much bigger.