We're Interpol
Hitomi whispered out of the side of her mouth, “Stop fidgeting. We’re Interpol.”
“Sorry. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’ve done this a thousand times.”
“Well, I haven’t,” Alana tugged on the bottom of her jacket again, and adjusted her glasses.
“Rookie,” Hitomi growled, smiling.
“Oh shut up,” Alana laughed. “How long does it take for a secretary to get someone anyway?”
“This is business as usual. Considering how quickly all footage was pulled, this guy was probably told to keep his mouth shut. So he takes his time. Figures out what he wants to say, how to get rid of us.”
“I never knew this was so,” she trailed off.
“Involved?” When Alana nodded, Hitomi shook her head. “Yeah, it tends to be. No one wants to think the government covers things up. But sometimes they have to, if only to curb panic. Some agents tend to be, shall we say, over-zelous?”
“And use intimidation.”
“Yeah, it’s not everyone, but enough to give the rest a bad name.”
They didn’t need to wait much longer, as a mousy little man came skittering into the waiting room and motioned to them, “May I help you?”
Hitomi wasted no time in flourishing her badge to the man. “Agent Komuri, this is Agent Westwood, Interpol.” Her British accent was flawless, and the little man’s watery eyes widened behind his thick glasses.
“Oh, of course. Please, this way.” He turned and shuffled back into the hall. Alana and Hitomi followed him into a small, cluttered office, notebooks and toys everywhere. There were no chairs to sit. “You’ll forgive me. This is a small museum, on a shoestring budget.”
“That’s alright, Mister?”
“Oh, Joop. Patrick Joop. Owner and curator here.”
“Of course, Mr. Joop. I assume you know why we’re here?”
“Yes. The parade.”
“Right. I assure you, you’re not in trouble. We’re here because there have been similar incidents in the European Union. We would like to get your account for our records.”
“Can’t you just take from the report I files with the local authorities?”
“We prefer first hand accounts. Please, tell us what you saw.”
“Very well. It was after midnight, I was here doing paperwork. I heard a commotion coming from in back, from my small warehouse. It’s where I keep toys and games I don’t have on display. Anyway, I got up and went in the hall, and then I saw it.”
“It? The toys?”
“Yes. Some where mine, others weren’t. I followed the line back to the warehouse and saw the most amazing thing,” Joop’s voice became wistful. “I saw three enormous matryoshka dolls.”
“Matryoshka dolls?”
“That’s right, Agent Westwood. Also knows as Russian Nesting Dolls.”
“Right, I’ve seen those. Normally small, are they not?”
“You have good taste Agent Komuri. Usually about three or four inches tall. These were six feet tall, and there were three layers of doll. The innermost was where all the toys were coming from. Though there were far more than could have fit in even the outermost doll. They were still beautiful. Anyway, not long after I got back there, the last of the soldiers and robots came out of the matryoshkas. Then they matryoshkas crumbled to dust as I watched. It was a shame. I would have loved to display them.”
“Anything else strike you as odd?”
“Aside from the entire thing you mean?” He laughed, “Well, the inside of the dolls seemed to glow.” The man thought for a moment. “Oh. Yes, that’s right. There was one thing. One of the toys had fallen over, broken. It was one of mine, but not from here.”
“What do you mean, Mister Joop?”
“Well, I used to have a second warehouse, a few miles away. I couldn’t really afford to keep it, but once I had moved out, there were a few boxes of broken toys missing. I had intended to fix them eventually, but,” he trailed off. “I was hurting for money at the time, and I really couldn’t afford to fix them, and most of them were duplicates.”
“How do you know it was yours?”
“I had small stick on tags on them.” The man smiled. “The FBI took it, and told me they’d check it out. Would you like the address of the warehouse?”
“Yes, please. That would be quite helpful.”
Joop gave them the address. They thanked him and promised him he wouldn’t be in any trouble. As they left he stopped them, “Ah, if you could, I would like to know if the FBI found any of those boxes. They haven’t returned my calls, and there was one toy that I wouldn’t mind having back.”
“Yes?”
“It was an old wind up. A man in coveralls carrying a tiny replica of the Mona Lisa.”
“Sorry. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’ve done this a thousand times.”
“Well, I haven’t,” Alana tugged on the bottom of her jacket again, and adjusted her glasses.
“Rookie,” Hitomi growled, smiling.
“Oh shut up,” Alana laughed. “How long does it take for a secretary to get someone anyway?”
“This is business as usual. Considering how quickly all footage was pulled, this guy was probably told to keep his mouth shut. So he takes his time. Figures out what he wants to say, how to get rid of us.”
“I never knew this was so,” she trailed off.
“Involved?” When Alana nodded, Hitomi shook her head. “Yeah, it tends to be. No one wants to think the government covers things up. But sometimes they have to, if only to curb panic. Some agents tend to be, shall we say, over-zelous?”
“And use intimidation.”
“Yeah, it’s not everyone, but enough to give the rest a bad name.”
They didn’t need to wait much longer, as a mousy little man came skittering into the waiting room and motioned to them, “May I help you?”
Hitomi wasted no time in flourishing her badge to the man. “Agent Komuri, this is Agent Westwood, Interpol.” Her British accent was flawless, and the little man’s watery eyes widened behind his thick glasses.
“Oh, of course. Please, this way.” He turned and shuffled back into the hall. Alana and Hitomi followed him into a small, cluttered office, notebooks and toys everywhere. There were no chairs to sit. “You’ll forgive me. This is a small museum, on a shoestring budget.”
“That’s alright, Mister?”
“Oh, Joop. Patrick Joop. Owner and curator here.”
“Of course, Mr. Joop. I assume you know why we’re here?”
“Yes. The parade.”
“Right. I assure you, you’re not in trouble. We’re here because there have been similar incidents in the European Union. We would like to get your account for our records.”
“Can’t you just take from the report I files with the local authorities?”
“We prefer first hand accounts. Please, tell us what you saw.”
“Very well. It was after midnight, I was here doing paperwork. I heard a commotion coming from in back, from my small warehouse. It’s where I keep toys and games I don’t have on display. Anyway, I got up and went in the hall, and then I saw it.”
“It? The toys?”
“Yes. Some where mine, others weren’t. I followed the line back to the warehouse and saw the most amazing thing,” Joop’s voice became wistful. “I saw three enormous matryoshka dolls.”
“Matryoshka dolls?”
“That’s right, Agent Westwood. Also knows as Russian Nesting Dolls.”
“Right, I’ve seen those. Normally small, are they not?”
“You have good taste Agent Komuri. Usually about three or four inches tall. These were six feet tall, and there were three layers of doll. The innermost was where all the toys were coming from. Though there were far more than could have fit in even the outermost doll. They were still beautiful. Anyway, not long after I got back there, the last of the soldiers and robots came out of the matryoshkas. Then they matryoshkas crumbled to dust as I watched. It was a shame. I would have loved to display them.”
“Anything else strike you as odd?”
“Aside from the entire thing you mean?” He laughed, “Well, the inside of the dolls seemed to glow.” The man thought for a moment. “Oh. Yes, that’s right. There was one thing. One of the toys had fallen over, broken. It was one of mine, but not from here.”
“What do you mean, Mister Joop?”
“Well, I used to have a second warehouse, a few miles away. I couldn’t really afford to keep it, but once I had moved out, there were a few boxes of broken toys missing. I had intended to fix them eventually, but,” he trailed off. “I was hurting for money at the time, and I really couldn’t afford to fix them, and most of them were duplicates.”
“How do you know it was yours?”
“I had small stick on tags on them.” The man smiled. “The FBI took it, and told me they’d check it out. Would you like the address of the warehouse?”
“Yes, please. That would be quite helpful.”
Joop gave them the address. They thanked him and promised him he wouldn’t be in any trouble. As they left he stopped them, “Ah, if you could, I would like to know if the FBI found any of those boxes. They haven’t returned my calls, and there was one toy that I wouldn’t mind having back.”
“Yes?”
“It was an old wind up. A man in coveralls carrying a tiny replica of the Mona Lisa.”
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