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The last thing Biggie expected after a three-day Cheese bender is the sound of a harried young woman’s voice arguing with his bodyguard Jeff Bozo. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, brushing away the veritable mountain of empty takeout containers off of him. He listens to the argument curiously, blearily surveying the room around him.
His friends and associates are laid out on the floor, the coffee table, and all but one of the LazyBoys scattered around the large living room.
"I'm telling you this is serious! The Marvelous Mozzarella of Manhattan is missing and Biggie Cheese is the only person who could possibly care enough to find it!" The woman’s voice rings out, desperation seeping into her tone.
Biggie hoists himself up so he’s sitting on the couch, feeling a twinge of annoyance when Bozo doesn’t immediately come running when he hears the rustling of the food wrappers.
"And I'm telling you that Biggie Cheese is a busy man who doesn't have time to be concerned about something that he won't profit from! So get lost!"
"Bozo!" Biggie slurs out, "Wha’s goin’ on out there?”
He hears grumbling from his trusted guard followed by two sets of footsteps coming toward him.A tall, lanky woman is led by Jeff Bozo into the living room. She looks around the room
with wide eyes to the assorted lumps of dozing band members and friends before her wide eyes settle on Biggie.
She's in a sky blue tank top, white jeans and brown sandals. Her ravenette hair is tied back into a bun, but leaves her long, bleached white bangs to frame her olive-skinned face. She wears large, round glasses that don't seem to suit her- in the five seconds she's been in the room she's had to push them up twice. She has a clipboard in her hands with a pen attached holding more papers than Biggie has ever read in one sitting before- at least six.
Jeff gestures for her to take a seat on the only empty chair in the room, a large plush chair upholstered with a mauve velvet. She hesitates only a moment before a look of determination crosses her features. She sits on the edge of the chair, crosses her ankles and places the clipboard in her lap before folding her hands atop it.
"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Cheese. My name is Gabriella Ricci and I apologize for the trouble I've caused. This shouldn’t take long, sir." Her voice is clipped and awkward, with some sort of accent bleeding through.
Biggie waves a hand, “Whatever. I heard you’ve got a cheese problem?”
She nods, “Yes, we do. The donated slice of Marvelous Mozzarella was stolen from the Great Museum of Cheese in New York two days ago. The security cameras appear to have been hacked and had been playing what appears to be a coded message during the approximate time of the theft. Lady Gaga- she made and donated the cheese, sir- asked the owners to come to you for help since you owe her a favor, sir, and cheese is your specialty. They agreed, after hearing of Mr. Bozo’s background and hoped he would be able to be involved as well. The police don’t have suspects yet, and are currently trying to decode the message.”She hands him the clipboard to peruse, and he raises an eyebrow at her.
"And what makes you think I can be of assistance? I'm a rapper, Gabriella, I highly doubt I'll be able to solve this disappearance. But I suppose Bozo and I can fly out to New York and try."
He flips through the papers, skimming them, while Bozo calls in Ariana Orlara- his traveling manager who looks ready to eviscerate him three our of seven days of the week- to prepare their things.
"Will Miss Ricci be accompanying us on the plane, sir?" Ariana asks, peering at the two of them over her glasses.
"Oh- I wouldn't want to be any trouble. I'll take the boat back, sir."
"Nonsense, Miss Ricci," Bozo cuts in coolly, "You are, at present, the most knowledgeable person on the case. We'll leave tonight, so pack whatever you've brought with you and please meet us back here by six."
"Um- Alright then." She smiles awkwardly, "My number is on that card, there-" She points to it, stapled to the top paper on the clipboard- "Please call if you need anything before we- before we leave. All the information the police have gathered thus far should already be in there."
Jeff walks her to the door and Ariana leaves to get everything prepared, which leaves Biggie mostly alone to read through the evidence properly.Five hours later, Biggie sits in one of his limos with Gabriella going over the case while Bozo drives. The separator usually rolled up between the driver and the limo's fancy seating is rolled all the way down, allowing Bozo to listen and give his opinion.
"Let me get this straight," Biggie starts, fiddling with his huge gold chain, "On Tuesday the evening cleaners saw the cheese slice on its podium like it always is, and no one was in the building that they heard or saw. Then in the morning the museum owners opened the building and saw it was missing, yes?"
"Yes, sir. They called the police immediately, and they looked for evidence- not that they tried very hard. The department doesn’t seem to be taking this as seriously as it should be taken, although Detective Greene has been quite helpful. When Mr. and Mrs. Cheddar checked the security feed, all they found was a loop of a laughing mask with some sort of coded message flashing on the top and bottom. No finger or footprints anywhere around the podium, no forced entry or exit, nothing."
Biggie Cheese hums, putting a paw to his face, "Well, this is odd. Bozo? You used to be a detective, right? Any ideas?"
"Well, boss, I'd have to see the scene to get an idea. Is there any chance the perpetrator was let into the building? The museum employs security guards, correct?"
"Yes, they do. The guards didn't see anything. They said that the cheese was still there at the end of their shift- 6 A.M. The owners usually arrive at 6, but Wednesday morning they were running late and didn’t arrive until 6:38. The museum doesn't open until 8 A.M.""Well, that does make things difficult. You're certain there was no evidence left behind?" Bozo asks after a moment.
"Not that I was told, no." Gabriella frowns, "I haven't actually been inside the museum since it happened, I was just tasked with finding Mr. Cheese and asking for his help. The Cheddars wouldn't have let anyone in to steal anything, I'm positive of that. The museum is their life's work."
"I hate to doubt you, lady, but they coulda done it for notoriety. I know I would!" Biggie Cheese laughs. Gabrielle casts a nervous glance at Bozo, who rolls his eyes.
"Ignore him, Miss Ricci. I'm sure you've heard of his love of Cheese. One of the side effects of his benders is, ah. Impulsivity with words, in a way."
Gabriella nods at him, staring out the window as they finally arrive at the airport where Biggie Cheese supposedly keeps his private jets. Bozo quickly parks the limo and climbs out, opening the door and offering his hand to help her out of the vehicle.Three and a half hours later, they land in New York with surprisingly little fanfare.
"I honestly expected more... people." Gabriella murmurs, glancing around the airport.
Jeff grins, "You'll find that red herrings can be pretty useful, Miss Ricci. TMZ was called an hour ago with an anonymous tip that Biggie Cheese was planning a spontaneous trip to Universal Studios. Ariana is excellent at her job, as well, which works wonders. We should be free of the vultures for a few hours, if everything goes well. Try to look harried when they do show up- although the likelihood of you being on the front page about being his new 'main squeeze' will be high no matter what. I do apologize for not warning you ahead of time- you seemed stressed enough on the flight."
She gives him a wane smile, grabbing her bags, "I've never flown before. It was better than I thought it was, though- not sure I'd do it again, though, to be honest."
"Bozo!" Biggie Cheese calls out, several yards away, "Have you tried this food? It's horrendous!"
Bozo rushes over to his boss, leaving Gabriella to grab their bags and hurry after him.
"Sir, you know we've gotta keep a low profile. Could you perhaps wait to critique the airport food until we're in the car?"
“Bah,” Biggie waves a hand dismissively, “The vultures will turn up anyway.”
Bozo sighs, “Yes, but it would make life easier the longer they’re out of the picture. Sir, we’ve been over this. How much cheese did you have on the flight?”
While the two men argue, Gabriella digs through her bag for her phone to call the Cheddars. She lets out a little exclamation of victory- she hadn’t forgotten it in the hotel again. Quickly, she dials the number.
Six rings later, she hears “Hello? Gabby, did you make it? What did he say? Is everything okay?”
“Miss- Mrs. Cheddar, everything’s fine. We’ll be on our way soon- have the police found anything?”
“Oh, Gabby, you’re wonderful! I’ll let Jed know- no, the police haven’t been by since you’ve left. Jed thinks they think we did it! I think he’s been watching too much of his crime shows- stop by the flat, if you can, and I’ll give you the spare key I found. It was in the cupboard with the noodles! I wonder why we put it there…”
She shakes her head, smiling and glances at the exasperated bodyguard trying to usher Biggie Cheese to the exit, “I’ll let them know. See you in a bit, miss nonna.”
“Oh, Gabby, you’re a miracle worker! Maybe you can take some of these treats with you…” Mrs. Cheddar hangs up with a click, and Gabriella tucks her phone away again and hurries after the two men.
“So, um- we’ll need to stop by the Cheddars’ flat before we go to the museum. They would’ve met us there, but Mrs. Cheddar found the spare key for the building so we’ll be able to have full access. Detective Greene should be meeting us at the museum as well, to make sure we follow procedure. She probably won’t be too happy, but she’ll help.”"That's perfectly acceptable, Miss Ricci." Bozo says briskly, "So long as Sir *does what I ask of him.*" He says pointedly, giving Biggie Cheese a stern look.
Biggie waves a hand, "Oh, please, Jeff, I can behave. We're here for cheese. I'll always be good for cheese."
"Not that kind of cheese, sir." Bozo sighs long sufferingly. Gabriella stifles a laugh with her hand. Bozo notices and gives her a look as well, looking very put upon when she snorts a laugh in response.
He manages to herd Biggie out to the parking lot where a sleek, rather nondescript navy blue car is waiting for them.
"What?!" Biggie shrieks, "No limo?! Bozo! This is an outrage!"
"Sir, we need to keep a low profile. You know this. Do you really want to subject Miss Ricci to the vultures? I thought you were more gentlemanly than that, sir." Bozo says derisively, which seems to cow Biggie long enough to get him in the car quickly.
"Well- fine. I guess this... car... is fine. Where did you say we were going, Gabriella?"
She pulls out her phone, "It'll be a flat near Central Park- I forget the exact address. Give me a minute and I can pull it up."
Bozo nods, taking her suitcase and duffel bag from her and putting them in the trunk.
"And where will we be staying, Bozo? How long will this take? I won't be staying in another dingy Super 8, I draw the line at that." Biggie sniffs, climbing into the passenger seat. Gabriella makes an affronted noise, and Bozo rolls his eyes.
"We'll be staying at the Lowell, sir. Ariana was kind enough to book three connecting rooms- Lord knows how, that woman's a miracle worker- in the event Miss Ricci would need a room."
"Oh- I have an apartment, sir. The Cheddars rent it to me, it's a block or so away from the museum." Gabriella informs him, sliding into the back seat.Twenty minutes and a box of biscuits courtesy of a stressed Mrs. Cheddar later, and they're parked in front of the Great Museum of Cheese and waiting on the detective.
"I thought you said they'd be waiting for us," Biggie grumbles.
"She was supposed to be here... Maybe she's inside? It is pretty cold out. I'll go check."
With that, Gabriella climbs out of the car and walks briskly towards the glass doors of the museum with her coat tightened around her. She peeks through the doors, her breath fogging the glass, only to see nothing. Not even the lights are on, which is- odd. The Cheddars were certain that the detective along with a handful of officers were going to be at the museum all day, in case anyone else came around looking to steal anything else.
Huffing, Gabriella knocks on the glass and waits. She's relieved to see the scowling face of Detective Greene stalking forward to greet them after a minute. Gabriella beckons to Jeff Bozo and Biggie Cheese to follow her inside while she fumbles for the key.
"Miss Ricci, gentlemen." Greene greets them coolly with a nod, "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'd rather not have civilians encroaching upon a, ah, crime scene. Come with me- you'll need to wear some protective gear to ensure there's no disruption of evidence. Lock the door, Ricci."
Gabriella quickly does so before they hurry after the detective to a small table littered with gloves, shoe covers, evidence bags, among other things. She instructs the three of them to put the gloves and shoe covers on before giving them a run down of how to handle evidence- not that they’ll be doing any of that, she’s quick to bark out. In the case of them finding anything they’re to leave it be and call for her or one of the three officers walking around the museum.Under the scrutiny of Detective Greene, Gabriella and Jeff wander around the crime scene and try to get a feel for things. Jeff seems right at home, scrutinizing the large glass cloche the Mozzarella had been kept under. Gabriella awkwardly trails after him, doing her best to be helpful in some way.
Biggie peers around the other exhibits, occasionally rifling through a trash bin before walking to another piece of cheese with an air of disappointment. Detective Greene seems annoyed with everything- them in particular- as usual.
“Detective?” Jeff calls out, earning a slight scowl from her, “Could you give us a run down of the case? Were you hear for the initial survey of the scene?”
She nods, “The dispatcher sent me along with Officer Horlen when they received the call. When we arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Cheddar were distraught. They told us what had happened- that someone broke into their museum after the evening’s security officer ended his shift and stole the Marvelous Mozzarella. They couldn’t provide us with many suspects, adamant that they had no enemies or jilted customers. While Officer Horlen and I closed the museum off from the public, additional help arrived and we gathered what evidence we could. We didn’t find any fingerprints on the cloche, no footprints andwhere in or around the building that may belong to the thief, no hair, nothing. The Cheddars handed over the files from their security system and we suspect that whoever hacked them is near a professional level. From the time of 6:05 to 6:30, all the feed shows is a laughing puppet-like mask against a white background with some sort of message above and below the mask. The department’s digital forensics team can’t trace the hack and sent the feed to a team of decoders in Washington. I haven’t heard anything from them yet.”Bozo hums, “You have no leads?”
Greene scowls, “No. I’ve reached out to some of my own contacts to be on the look out for anyone potentially trying to sell the cheese, but I haven’t heard anything on that end either. The department is already spread thin, so you’ll likely get minimal help from them.”
“But not you?” Gabriella asks, “You mentioned that you were sent here with an officer. Do you work for the department?”
Greene shakes her head, “I’m a private detective, miss Ricci. I had been helping them with another odd case- perhaps you heard about Taylor Swift’s current place of residence being egged with eggs full of red paint? I enjoy taking on stranger cases, so the department asked me to go with Horlen.”
“Detective?” One of the stationed officers jogs up, “This is for you.”
He hands the detective a phone and she walks further away from her charges to speak with whoever’s on the other end. Gabriella watches her from the corner of her eye- whatever the call’s about, Greene doesn’t seem too pleased to hear it. She purses her lips, frowning, and pitches her voice even lower as she speaks.“I doubt we’ll find much else here,” Jeff murmurs to her, raising an eyebrow at Biggie Cheese when the rat starts looking a little too closely at some of the exhibits. Biggie snatches his hand back, trotting back over to them reluctantly.
“Sir?” Bozo calls out, gaining his attention, “Perhaps we should wait until the decoders have finished their job- as of now, the three of us are a hindrance to Detective Greene. Until we can follow a lead or help in some other way, we should return to the hotel.”
By this point, Greene is walking back over to them with a frown on her face. She hands the phone back to the officer from before as she passes him, giving him a tight nod.
“Something wrong?” Gabriella asks, tilting her head.
The detective huffs, “Whoever sent the files to Washington screwed up. They’ve corrected the problem now, but we’re set back a few days at least. Going back to your hotel would be the best course of action. I’ll be in touch with Ricci and the Cheddars when I get updates.”
“Why Gabriella?” Biggie asks, looking at the young woman in confusion.
“She has the keys.” Greene deadpans. Gabriella snorts, trying and failing to cover it up with a cough.
Greene raises an eyebrow at her before herding them out of the building and back into the cold air.Bozo drops Gabriella off at her apartment first, bidding her goodnight before watching her rush up the stairs to ensure she gets in safely.
“There’s a lot about all of this that I don’t understand,” He hears Biggie mumble from the backseat, “First off- why did they send some random person to ask for my help if Lady Gaga could’ve just called me? And on a boat? A plane would have been faster if calling me was completely out the window. Y’know?”
“It is odd, sir. I expect the Cheddars will be forthcoming about it tomorrow afternoon.”
“What do you mean?”
“We are dining with them for lunch, sir. You must have been dozing when I called Miss Ricci’s employers. We’ll be meeting them at Rickets, per Miss Ricci’s suggestion. She described it as a hole in the wall that should be empty enough for discussions about the case. Ricci will not be joining us.”
“All I care about’s the food.”
“Of course, sir. You haven’t had any Cheddar today, have you? You know what the doctor will say about your party.”
“That doc wouldn’t know his ass from his mouth! Why you askin’?”
“Because you and I have a lot of work to do tonight, sir. And you’ve gotta make a phone call.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He probably knows more about this than we ever will.”
“I’m not calling him! He’ll want to be involved. And not just with the case, Bozo. I can’t believe you’re suggesting that.”
“Very well, sir. As you wish it.”