My leg clanked through the alleyway of the Crystal Swan. Wet snowflakes matted my hair and chilled my collar bone, but it was nice to breath the open air after being in such a stuffy ballroom. I touched my comphone and sure enough, my ride arrived at the far end of the alleyway. A hovering black cab with darkened windows awaited me. My breath of fresh air away from the methane emissions of the public.

I hopped on the platform and entered into two seater. I basked in the warmth of the radiator as I recieved a greeting.

"Salutations Miss Blunderbuss."

Sitting in the driver's seat was a dapper man in his mid fifties. A curling stache, a black tuxedo with a long coat tail and a certain upward curve of his nose made it clear that he was my trusty butler. A holographic blue tint to his skin suggested something irregular about this man. He fingered a circular red touch screen built into the dashboard and turned to face me. "Master Jacqueline," he smiled, his voice warm, calm and automated. "My ones and zeroes are pleased as anything to see you alive and unscathed."

I grinned and smoked my vape in the car. "Mostly unscathed, PAL. Maybe a little ding up. No biggy."

I turned my leg to face him, and he winced. There was a large indent in my mechanical leg where the bullet had hit me.

My automated servant feigned outrage as best as his circuits could. "These scoundrels must know I invest great care in installing protective plates in that leg of yours, Master. Otherwise, they wouldn't scuff it up so much."

I leaned back and laughed. Fumes coming out my nostrils. "Or bad aim. Trust me, if this criminal had any foresight, he wouldn't have showed his face at the ballroom tonight. Nope, Mr. Bon Appart had come up a bit…short."

My automated butler chortled with a few 'ho-ho-hos' before activating the touch screen. The vehicle lifted up in the air as he politely reprimanded me, "I do appreciate your witticisms, Miss Blunderbuss, but please do not smoke in the cockpit. It tends to agitate my programming."

I got one last puff in, savoring the sweet buzz before putting it away.

***

We arrived at a skyscraper built next to a clock tower. On a platform, we parked the carriage beside a penthouse of all black windows. The skyline was full of billowing snow clouds that darkened Noirberg beyond its usual shadowy appearance. My metal leg stepped out of the carriage and my organic one followed. I had long gotten used to the handicap. It was now second nature to move. The clock tower chimed 12 times as I entered my apartment. It was officially a new day, but most importantly, it was my day.

I stepped into the kitchen when the electric candle lights brightened the whole room. Lying on a marble island table was a birthday cake of with exactly sixteen, multicolored birthday candles pressed into dark chocolate icing. They immediately sparkled when I entered. My holographic butler appeared beside me, his top hat replaced with a birthday hat. "Happy 16th, young master!" he said.

"You shouldn't have, PAL," I gushed.

"If I didn't," PAL responded drolly. "Who else would? Your father made sure that I would in lieu of his absense. "

I signed. As much as I was grateful to PAL, he spoke the truth. I was a prodigy at the Enigma Academy, I outsmarted countless crooks, and earned enough to live handsomely…but nobody wanted anything to do with me. My father's name was stained as the worst detective Noirberg had ever seen. Even a police officer's dog had solved more crimes than my poor begotten dad.

PAL pointed to a rectangular shaped present in pink polka dot wrapping paper. It was sealed with a twirling ribbon and there was a letter. "Miss Olivia Appletini Sutherland dropped that off earlier."

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"I should have guessed," I said with a smirk. "That wrapping paper is more pink and frilly than she is…" I gazed upwards. "but…at least she remembered."

Olivia, or Olive, as I called her, was one of my only friends from the Enigma Academy, and perhaps it was due to me helping keep her air headedness from lifting her off the ground that she had really taken to me.

Presents from a friend were almost as rare as a kind smile in my direction, so I opened her gift first and savored the moment. Shedding the paper revealed a white clothing box and when I lifted the lid, there was a fuzzy, hot pink…thing inside.

"What in the world…" I muttered, and I opened the letter looking for some answers.

"Howdy Jacky," it read. "Sorry I couldn't come to your 16th birthday bash, but my daddy said that members of his family don't associate with your ilk. I dunno what ilk is, so I got you a present anyways. It's a leg warmer for your metal leg. I heard metal gets cold in the winter so hopefully this will warm it up lickity split!

Hope to see y'all at the academy tomorrow so we can keep solvin' mysteries.

Toodles,

Olive."

This girl made me roll my eyes so much it had become a permenant tic, but I still managed to grin. At least someone of flesh and blood remembered my birthday. I gazed deeply into the orangey-red flames on the ends of the candle, each flickering with an age of my lifespan. Today wasn't just my birthday.

It was an important anniversary.

I took a deep puff and blew every candle out, leaving smoldering black wicks in their place. I cut myself a slice of the cake, savored its spongey texture and went off to bed.

Lying awake in the dimness of my room, I gazed outside my window. The city lights were all lit up like birthday candles too. I thought about my wish on the candles. They say you're never supposed to say what you wished for, but I will disclose it for you: I wished to solve the unsolvable, even for myself. The disappearance and death of my father, Norman Blunderbuss was something nobody had come close to figuring out.

Now that would truly be a mystery on my level.

***

Sunlight shone on a sheet of freshly fallen snow. The city of Noirberg was snowbound, but that hardly stopped the motion of school, work, play and high class criminal misdeeds. It was Monday, and much like the fabulous ball, the weekend had come to an end and it was back to the academy. Hardly something to lament about, since the Enigma Academy was just as much my home as my penthouse on Vixen Boulevard. There was also something I was even more eager about. It got me up quicker than a five caffeine patches on my arm.

The automatic shutters opened, brightening my room with a sliver of light. I slid from the silky sheets of my queen-sized bed, and rose to my feet. Aside from my double paneled closet, work desk, overlooking window and mirror, my bedroom was wall-to-wall lined with bookshelves. Even in this digital age, to me, I liked nothing better than to curl up with a good book written by the likes of mystery fantacist Janice K. Penfeather or the esteemed professor Archie Bald.

I slid into something stylish yet comfortable for the long hours spent perusing the library and sitting in class. A pair of dark trousers fitted over my robotic leg and with a pair of a silver pair of compliment them. At last, I checked my face. Pale white skin, short jet-black bob haircut with one side shaved and light purple eyes. I never knew my mother, but my father always said, when he saw me, it was like her eyes were gazing back at him. I was ready for yet another day, especially when there'd be a celebration waiting for me at every cornerstore.

My carriage soared through the chalk white skies of Noirberg and pulled in front of the Newsie Shop. It was a green portable stand erected on the side of the corner, dealing out issues of the Newsies Paper. Last night was a hard night's work and I was ready to bask in the innate glory. For even if the people didn't love me, the headlines did. I activated my vape, sticking it out of the corner of my mouth. "The latest one," I asked the robot in a plaid cap. "My good newsbot."

The front page headline was clear as day in my head: "Wonder Detective, Blunderbuss Foils Bon Appart's High End Scheme."

I could taste those words like synergy had transformed them chocolate cake.

"Here you are ma'am," the robot said, printing a brand new paper from inside of it.

My vape dangled from my lips as I turned to the front page.

On the front cover was not my award winning feat, but instead a cross eyed picture of a girl my age–sixteen– in a frilly, purple bow laced dress. Her hair was done nearly in blond curls that hung lightly below her ears. She had a vacant smile as empty and wide as her bright blue eyes. Her nose was covered in a white powdery substance. The headline read, "A Powdered Belle at the Crystal Swan. Esteemed Sutherland Daughter Caught In New Scandal."

My mouth dropped so far that it fell into the filthy salted snow.

Bloody hell.

It was Olive.