Richard had around fifty emails to write and absolutely nothing to do. At around eight o'clock this morning, he managed to get everything he needed to do done, and that was for the entire week. He leaned back in his office chair, eyes focused on his computer screen. It was nothing but a blur at this point, a glowing rectangle of boredom and distraction. All he had to do now was sit around and look busy as his boss made his rounds, as if his boss was a kindergarten teacher checking up on how the students' arts and crafts were going. 

Richard was an insurance investigator for antiquities. It was much more boring than it sounded. His job consisted of reading insurance claims, checking the veracity of them, and denying or accepting them. Verifying claims of stolen art seemed like it would be interesting, but that was a facade. What could be tracking down pieces of art stolen by criminal masterminds was instead checking the museum staff's history, following where the money would go, and reading police reports. And after all that, he would send his findings to his boss, where it would get sorted into a 'yes' box or a 'no' box. It was paper-pushing, plain and simple, and he was far too good at it. Most weeks, he can get all his work done in around two hours, and sometimes one. The rest of his week was meetings and emails. 

Richard waited for the next meeting, which was in forty-five minutes. He offered to take notes for his boss, which they both knew he didn't need, but his boss wanted to feel important, so he said yes. He scrolled through articles on his computer, ones about forensic identification and criminal networks. If his boss came by, he would say it was to get better at reading reports, and his boss wouldn't believe him but wouldn't stop him either. Richard did other things too, like getting coffee and organizing all of his folders. And when the forty-five minutes was up, Richard was almost relieved. At least he would get exercise on the way to the meeting room. 

"And we've seen a twelve-percent increase in productivity for our department," said one of the executives, which Richard didn't know the name of. They all blurred together. "Not only that, but we haven't gotten a single HR complaint." The executive tapped a button on the remote to switch slides. "This graph shows how my—our— department's office plan changed things for the better, and I think if we apply that lesson, we'll be better because of it. Thank you." The executive sat back down at the table, slumping a bit in his chair. 

"All right, thank you, Arnold," said another executive, the one in charge of all the other ones, including his boss. He waved his hand like he was a judge handing out a ruling, sitting on a throne and banging his gavel. "Simon," he said, and nodded to the front of the room. Simon scurried up to the head of the table, laptop under his arm. 

Simon coughed into a fist. "Our department, unfortunately, has been experiencing a downturn," he said, "and we have been trying to find ways to fix it. The problem lays mostly with an increase in payouts, due to an increase in criminal activity—"

"What kind of criminal activity?" Richard asked, and his boss shushed him. Richard put his hands in front of him, defensive, and went back to his notes. 

Simon deigned to answer the question, saying, "there is an active suspect in numerous robberies of high-profile institutions and a few private holders—" 

"It's just one guy?" Richard said, and again his boss shushed him, and apologized to the top executive. Simon looked to the top executive as well, tilting his head in Richard's direction. The top executive looked back at Simon, and gestured for him to continue. 

Simon sighed. "Yes, it's just one suspect. As I was saying, the increased payouts are concerning and are likely to lead to losses. Our department has decided to suggest reducing coverage to clients deemed high risk in light of these concerns."

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Richard raised his hand this time, and Simon stared straight ahead, not looking at him. "We have multiple strategies to minimize the potential client loss, and—"

"Wouldn't a better way of minimizing client loss be making sure the one guy is arrested?" Richard said, and there were a few chuckles throughout the room. 

Simon scoffed and said, "multiple law enforcement agencies have tried, and failed, and I'm just trying to do damage control here," and his voice rose toward the end. He seemed to realize his mistake, taking a deep breath and adjusting his tie. Simon starts to speak again, but the top executive interrupts him. 

"If we're going off of what law enforcement does, we are not doing all we can to solve this problem," the top executive said, "since what they do is mostly fill out paperwork and pass it to us." 

"Sir—" Simon said.

"And even though we can change our policies, doesn't mean that it's our only option," said the top executive, "so I won't be acting on your suggestions, Simon, until we've exhausted those other options." 

Simon looked at the table a gave a small nod. The top executive continued. "I want your department to work with Jeremy's department," the top executive nodded at Richard's boss, "and see if you can come up with a solution to this problem. Everyone's dismissed."

There were murmurs throughout the room, and Richard noticed some looks going his way. Richard and Jeremy were still sitting in the meeting room as everyone filed out. "Richard," his boss said, "don't do that again." 

Richard shrugged and said, "I was just asking some questions."

"Still. I'm sending you over to Simon for the next few weeks. This sort of thing seems suited to your skill set, and you're the one who got us into this."

"We're the investigation department, we would be roped into this anyway," Richard said, and he was working on his laptop, already doing some research into the case. 

"Keep telling yourself that. Grab your stuff from your desk and go on to Simon's department. I'll have him set up a workspace for you," his boss said, and he got up, grabbed his coffee, and left Richard alone in the meeting room. 

When Richard got to Simon's department, Simon looked him up and down, led him to an empty desk, and dropped a stack of files onto it, all without saying a word. The desk and chair looked exactly like his old one, minus a few years. Maybe Richard should get a plant, a succulent maybe. Richard pulled out the chair, set his box down on the floor, and got out his laptop. Richard started familiarizing himself with the case. He opened a document to take notes. 

The suspect had robbed twenty museums and forty-two private residencies this year. Not all of them were insured by his company, not even most, but even five robberies could harm the bottom line. There were six. All high-profile pieces valued very high on the market, taken from places in the United States. Local police forces handed it off to the FBI, concluding that, since there were similar cases across the state, the case should be deemed federal. And the FBI, even with cooperation from the police, had no leads or physical evidence. 

Richard read the 'no physical evidence' part again. It was impossible (almost, apparently) to leave no physical evidence behind. Even the best criminals left behind a stray fingerprint every once in a while. And there was no way to do a smash and grab without leaving anything behind—even a trace of a tool used for smashing, for example. 

But then Richard read more: almost every piece stolen seemed to disappear from the display without a trace. And it was often during high-traffic times, like opening exhibitions or private parties. His (or her?) general modus operandi seemed to be killing all the lights for around five minutes and getting away with the target—while in a crowded room. Richard smiled at the sheer audacity, but then Simon looked at him from his windowed office, so Richard schooled his expression into something serious. 

A crowded room, pitch black for an instant, and a missing piece of art. The skill that that would require seemed impossible, and the criminal has done it sixty-two times. And there was not even one named suspect, even with all those law enforcement agencies working together. But everyone makes mistakes, and no one can be a ghost forever. There was no way there was no evidence, it was simply a matter of finding it, putting it together, and chasing it down. This was not going to be easy, but that didn't matter. All Richard knew was that this was going to be much more fun than filling out reports and sending emails.