The Fairy Tale Feint
Sherlock's heart pounded in her chest alongside the gentleman's. She'd suspected him from the start, and now he was finally showing his hand. Of course, she couldn't afford to act rashly and ruin the whole operation, so she kept up a calm facade on the surface. The plan was to follow him naturally into the room and signal the waiting police inside. Everything had been arranged in advance—no issues there.
The two of them chattered away obliviously with pointless small talk.
"You must have liked that last purchase. You're back again already."
"It wasn't bad, that's for sure."
Look at that brazen attitude. Who would ever guess that this seemingly upstanding gentleman was actually Phantom Thief Raven, the man who'd stirred up chaos across all of Britannia? It was utterly absurd. But his vile escapades ended here. It was time to rip off the mask and confront his true face.
"Before entering, could you please show your ID first?"
The usher, still oblivious to the gentleman before her being the phantom thief, spoke with a polite smile. Surprisingly, Lupin readily pulled an ID from his pocket and handed it over. Sherlock glanced sideways and confirmed there were no oddities in the name, age, or other details.
Thorough as expected.
The meticulous preparation even extended to forging a perfect fake ID. No wonder he'd operated undetected for so long. Or perhaps... that was his real identity. Logically, no criminal would stroll into their announced crime scene undisguised, but this guy had always danced outside the bounds of common sense.
The usher found nothing amiss and returned the ID to its owner. Just as expected. It wouldn't be some sloppy fake that an usher could spot.
Joan went through the ID check next, and finally, it was Sherlock's turn.
"...Ah."
Now she was the problem. She'd only disguised her appearance, not prepared a fake ID. As she hesitated without pulling one out, the usher eyed her suspiciously. The two ahead, already cleared, turned back with puzzled looks.
This wouldn't do. Any more dithering, and she'd be the one under suspicion. Especially Raven—he could sense something off and bolt in an instant. But revealing her real identity here was even worse. Just as she'd glimpsed Lupin's ID, he'd memorize hers too.
She had to do something. But what?
After a split-second dilemma, Sherlock swiftly drew a card from her pocket and presented it to the usher. The woman's eyes widened in shock.
"S-sorry for the inconvenience! Enjoy your time!"
The gleam of gold. A VIP pass. The best option in this pinch. But it wasn't perfect—far more eye-catching than a plain ID.
People around were already murmuring, Joan was rubbing her eyes, and Lupin watched with keen interest. Ignoring it all, Sherlock pushed inside, only to hear a grating voice from beside her.
"I knew you were from a wealthy family, but you're quite the big shot."
"Uh... Charlotte? If I offended you earlier somehow..."
As her feared reaction played out exactly, Sherlock sighed and replied.
"Just treat me like normal. That's easier for me too."
"Oh, okay! I don't care about that stuff at all...!"
"If that's what you want. We'll do that."
He tried justifying it as unavoidable. Better a secretive casino VIP than revealing herself to Raven, right? Anyway, crisis averted somehow. Now just one thing left: arrest him the moment he entered the room, with the police.
"Perfect timing—the auction's just about to start."
"The center room has private items. Heading there again today?"
The private item Joan pointed to was the treasure the phantom thief had announced he'd steal today.
"Hmm..."
Lupin rubbed his chin, pretending to ponder. Watching him, Joan smirked and whispered.
"I heard a rumor— that item's no joke."
"Oh?"
"Not sure exactly what it is, but it's definitely not ordinary."
Where did she pick up these rumors? Either way, it worked in their favor. With her laying the bait, he'd drop the act soon. Nodding, Lupin tapped the schedule with his finger.
"But I like this one."
"...Pardon?"
"How about the leftmost room?"
Joan was stunned, and so was Sherlock.
What? Testing me?
Was he suspicious and doing this on purpose? She'd assumed he'd head straight for the target room, but he spouted the last thing she expected.
No. Stay calm. He'll end up in the center room eventually.
As if mocking her, the moment she thought that, Lupin strode confidently toward the left room.
"Wait a second."
"Hm? What's wrong?"
"Any reason not to go to the center? The auction there has..."
A complete set of children's books. Fairy tales, in other words. Even after Joan's bait, he refused? And picked fairy tales, which didn't suit a middle-aged gentleman at all?
Sherlock couldn't make sense of it. Something was seriously off.
Lupin shrugged nonchalantly at the girl's question.
"If it's as valuable as Joan says, the bidding will be fierce. Sadly, I'm not rolling in money."
"But..."
"Plus, these seem like they'd really help the kids I sponsor."
What more could she say? Admit she knew he was the thief and tell him to confess? She'd just look insane.
"......"
"Ah, if you're curious about the next auction, go check it out. No need for us all to bid together. I'll head this way then."
With that, he sauntered into the left room leisurely. Left staring blankly at his retreating back, Joan spoke up beside her.
"He's a quirky one, huh?"
"...Yeah."
She had no idea what was going on anymore. Thief or not, she had to follow and see it through.
The room wasn't large, and it was nearly empty. No surprise—how many people came to a casino to bid on fairy tales? Having one weirdo here was miraculous enough.
The three ended up sitting in the same row, participating in the auction. As the laid-back auctioneer droned on, Sherlock grew increasingly anxious. The target item's auction was starting next door. Yet the supposed culprit lounged here, browsing fairy tales.
Was my intuition wrong?
If so, she needed to bolt to the next room immediately. No time to waste like an idiot. But lingering doubts held her back. There was something about this Lupin guy. Why was he so relaxed? Or had she misinterpreted the notice?
Cracks formed in Sherlock's lofty pride.
Then, murmurs filtered in from outside. An auction staffer rushed onstage and urgently whispered to the auctioneer, whose face stiffened instantly.
Something had happened.
Sherlock shot up and dashed backstage.
"Hey? Charlotte? Where you going?"
Ignoring the question, she sprinted full-tilt into the center room. There stood Gadget, clutching her forehead and squinting fiercely.
"We got hit again."
"Detective! Where's Raven!?"
Gadget turned at the desperate shout, took a deep breath, and murmured gravely.
"The item's gone."
"......"
Meanwhile, in the left room, Joan kept glancing back.
"You sure it's okay not to follow?"
"She probably had something urgent. Think we could help anyway?"
The recent memory flashed in her mind. How could they assist a girl with a VIP pass? The uneasy atmosphere suggested trouble at the casino. Was that why Charlotte bolted? Maybe she was someone important, like the manager's daughter.
Then, Lupin dusted his hands, stood, and said,
"The casino vibe's off tonight."
"Yeah..."
"No point sticking around if I can't enjoy it properly. I'll head out."
Joan tilted her head.
"Already? What about the fairy tales...?"
"What can you do? Auctioneer's gone too—if there's no owner, can't exactly steal them."
Of course, that was obvious. As Joan reeled from the sudden shift, Lupin turned casually and bid farewell while exiting.
"See you next time. If fate allows."