Chapter Text
The city of London. What a dreary place, Jigen thought as he looked out the kitchen window of their latest hideout, set in the heart of the city. He chewed on the end of his bent cigarette, his hand automatically snapping noodles in half to add to a pot of boiling water while he watched rain drops run down the window.
Once he was sure the lid was securely on the pot, he turned to the door in between the kitchen and living room, a frown crossing his features.
It was… quiet in there. Goemon, he knew, was probably meditating. But Lupin would usually be tinkering with one of his gadgets, resulting in the sounds from his tools, or talking about something or another. Neither sound was anywhere to be heard, so the gunman stepped away from the stove, and peeked his head out.
As predicted, Goemon was meditating. Lupin, on the other hand, had his long, lanky limbs sprawled across an armchair, one hand holding a slim, maroon book with gold foil details on the front, his eyes sliding across the pages.
Sizzling reached his ears, and he spun around to see the pot with pasta was starting to boil over. He managed to catch it before it put out the fire, and finished cooking dinner, heaping out three, large helpings on plates, before taking them into the living room, placing one each in front of his partners, before sitting down with his plate. Lupin peeked up over the book, and immediately perked up.
“Wow, Jigen! This looks good! You’ve really outdone yourself, this time,” the thief said, letting the book drop into the chair between his body and the arm as he reached forward to grab his plate. Goemon sniffed the air slightly, before opening his eyes and studying the dish.
“I thought you said you were making Ramen, tonight,” he muttered, eyeing the dish critically. Jigen rolled his eyes as he spun his fork into the noodles.
“I said I was making noodles tonight. Never said what kind,” he said. Goemon simply let out a sigh through his nose, but took the plate from where it sat on the table.
“So, Boss, what’s that book there?” Jigen asked, turning to where the other man was shoveling pasta into his mouth with gusto. His movements paused as he looked up at the other men, and a slow grin crossed his face.
“Have either of you ever heard of the Kingdom of Ambrosia?” he asked. Both men shook their heads.
“Hm… what about the lost City of Harmony?”
“Just some rumors underground. Why?” Jigen asked.
“Oswald Whistler, an old opera composer, is putting out a new opera,” Lupin explained, leaning to the side to free the book from where it sat, passing it to Jigen. The older man paused in eating, taking the book to flip through it. “It’s based off the legend of the Kingdom of Ambrosia, which talks about a beautiful queen who loved music, and was beloved by her people, blah, blah, blah.” Lupin shoved another mouthful of pasta into his mouth. “She got sick though, and her people tried to save her, but they were too late.”
Goemon hummed suddenly. “I have heard of this. She died just as they created the Elixir of Eternal Life, correct?” he asked.
“Bingo!” Lupin called, pointing his fork at the samurai. “And apparently, the producers of this Opera are promising everyone who purchases a ticket that one person in the audience will be given this Elixir.”
“So, what? We’re gonna steal this magical cure?” Jigen asked, looking up from where he was flipping through the book. Lupin laughed at that, shaking his head.
“Of course not! That’s just some publicity stunt. I highly doubt it’s the real thing, don’t you?” he asked.
“Then why the interest?” Jigen asked, holding up the book. Lupin leaned forward, flipping the book open to near the end. There, a picture of a large, beautiful instrument showed.
“’The debut of Oswald Whistler’s Detragan’,” Jigen read the caption, before studying the picture again. There was one organ keyboard, coupled with two other keyboards, presumably where the player would sit, but the instrument itself was topped with a number of different sized brass horns, a large harp, drums, organ pipes, an accordion, a xylophone, and even cymbals.
“’A new instrument, invented by Oswald Whistler for this specific opera. It allows for a single player to emulate an entire orchestra’,” Lupin recited from memory. “That is our target. It’s one of a kind. Can’t you just imagine how priceless it is?” he asked.
“Hm…” Jigen puffed on his cigarette for a moment, studying the picture. “Bound to be big. How are we getting it out?” he asked. A sly smirk crossed Lupin’s face.”
“I have a few ideas. Of course, we’ll need Goemon to open the top of the opera house for us,” he said. Goemon, who had finished eating and had resumed a mandative pose, cracked open an eye to study Lupin’s grinning face.
“If I must,” he finally mumbled. Jigen studied the picture for a few more moments, before slowly nodding, grinning as well.
“Alright, Lupin. What’s these plans of yours?”
Zenigata frowned as he stared up at the armless, weeping angle statue that stood in front of the Crown Petone. His research into the opera house revealed it was built about a year ago, under the influence of the composer of tonight’s opera, Oswald Whistler. Speaking of which, a man stepped out of the doors, waving to the inspector.
“Mr. Whistler is busy, sir, but he has agreed to meet with you,” he said.
“Thanks. I’m sorry to interrupt him tonight, due to the show and all, but it’s rather important,” the inspector said. The man nodded, leading Zenigata through the lobby, up a flight of steps, and through a grand hall. Zenigata looked around as they walked, noting the décor and artifacts on display around the ship.
“This feels more like a museum, then an opera house,” he commented, nodding towards a dinosaur skeleton. It didn’t look like any species he vaguely remembered from school.
“Yes. Mr. Whistler, along with the help of Dr. Schrader, the leading expert on Ambrosia, built and decorated the opera house, theming it around the lost city of Ambrosia,” the man explained, before stopping in front of a door and knocking. A moment later, it opened, and a red-haired woman in a purple dress nearly ran into the man.
“Oh! Excuse me,” she said, glancing from him to Zenigata, before stepping around them and hurrying down the hall.
The smaller man lead Zenigata into the office, before melting away, leaving the room. Zenigata turned to look at the man pacing behind the desk in the center of the room, a frown crossing his face. He had thick, curly gray hair, which was currently disheveled, small eyes behind a pair of small glasses, and a rather large nose.
“I take it you’re the inspector who insisted on seeing me?” Whistler demanded, turning to the man. “I am trying to prepare for the show tonight. I don’t have time for this.”
“I think you will for this. I am Inspector Zenigata, Interpol,” he said, showing the man his badge. “This message was just delivered to me about two hours ago.” He replaced his badge into his pocket, instead pulling out a card, and handing it to the man. Oswald took it, frowning slightly.
“I will steal the jewel of the Crown Petone, tonight, before midnight.
~Lupin III”
Next to the signature, was a peanut shaped face with with a large smile, and little arms. A scowl crossed Whistler’s face.
“Lupin the Third. The international thief?” he asked. Zenigata nodded.
“I suggest cancelling the show until—”
“I can’t.” Whistler all but yelled. Zenigata’s eyes widened at that, and he took a step back. Whistler sighed, leaning his weight against the desk on one hand, the other rubbing his eyes. "This opera…. It’s for my daughter. She loved music…”
“’Loved’?” Zenigata asked, picking up on the past tense. Whistler looked up at the man.
“I was asked to compose this opera, but I wrote it in memory of her, and insisted it be shown today. It’s the first year anniversary since she…” the man trailed off. Zenigata’s face softened at that.
“I understand. In that case, do you know what Lupin might be after? This jewel in the crown?”
“The theater is called the Crown Petone, so it really can be anything in this building. I’m not entirely sure what he considers the jewel,” Whistler said, adjusting his glasses.
“Then I am going to have to stay here, and wait until he shows up,” Zenigata decided. Whistler frowned at that, but didn’t see another way around it.
“Alright. But just you, Inspector. A large police force would make the audience uneasy,” he said. Zenigata nodded slowly, and finally got out of the man’s hair once he was given a seat number in the audience.
When Zenigata arrived, he found another man sitting in his seat. He was a barrel chested man with an impressive pompadour. Zenigata sighed and stepped closer, speaking quietly so as to not create a scene with the other members in the audience.
“Excuse me, sir, but I believe you are in my seat,” he said. The man looked up, surprise.
“That can’t be. I specifically took this seat because it hadn’t been reserved,” he said. A suspicious frown crossed Zenigata’s face.
“Who are you?” he demanded. If this is Lupin, I’d be impressed. I didn’t think it would be possible to fake those kinds of muscles, he thought. The man, however, reached into his pocket and held up a badge.
“Inspector Grosky with the Yard,” he declared, before narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Zenigata. “And you?”
For the second time that night, Zenigata pulled out his own badge, letting the man see it. “Inspector Zenigata, Interpol.” He eyed the other man’s badge. It looked genuine. “Are you here on an investigation, too?”
“Yes,” Grosky seemed to warm up to the man, now that he knew he was a fellow law man, moving down one seat and letting Zenigata take the one he’d just been occupying. “There have been some odd rumors surrounding this opera, so I looked into it. Something is going to happen tonight, and I intend to stop it,” he said. “What about you?”
“Ever hear of Lupin III?” Zenigata paused, waiting for an answer. Grosky frowned, crossing his arms and nodded. “I received a calling card from him earlier, stating he was going to steal the ‘Jewel of the Crown Petone’ after the show tonight. I intend to catch him and his band of thieves,” he explained. Grosky smiled at that.
“Then maybe we can work together?” he offered. Zenigata smiled at that, relieved to have stumbled across an ally, and the two shook hands.
“Seems Pops is making a new friend,” an elderly man said, his voice thick with a French accent, watching the two inspectors from the corner of his eye as he made his way to his seat. As he stepped from the aisle into the row of seat, he detected a change in the sound of his footsteps. It was slight, but enough to catch his attention… and make him frown.
“Yeah, but if he’s anything like the rest of Scotland Yard, I don’t think we have to worry,” his companion, a younger man, clean shaven, said, pushing his bowler hat lower over his head. The French accent was lighter in his voice. The older man let out a laugh, tugging at the end of his short, snowy beard.
“True.”
Just then, a man in a dark suit and top hat took the seat in front of the young man in the bowler hat. A young boy, probably about ten-years-old, sat in front of the old man. Bowler hat glanced up at the top hat for a moment, waiting for the man to remove it, before shrugging when he didn’t, slouching in his seat. The older man chuckled again, glancing down at the boy in front of him, and preparing for the boy to get bored and become a distraction.
After a bit longer, the lights went down, with a spot light shining on stage, and the opera started. Through out the show, the gentleman in the top hat quietly explained the legend of Ambrosia to the boy next to him. Bowler Hat lowered the brim of his hat lower over his eyes and settled down, unable to see the stage anyway, while the older man kept his eyes glued to the red haired lead, vaguely listening to man in front of them.
At intermission, the older man leaned forward, and smiled at the gentleman in the top hat.
“Your son is so well behaved, if you don’t mind me saying, sir. My useless lump of a son here would have started acting out at his age at an opera.”
The man looked around, confused for a moment, before laughing.
“Well, thank you, but Luke here isn’t my son,” he said.
“Yeah! I’m the Professor’s apprentice!” the boy said, voice bright.
“Apprentice? The Professor’s?” The older man turned and looked at the man in the top hat again. “Ah, I recognize you from the papers. Professor Layton, right?” he asked. Layton chuckled at that, adjusting his hat.
“Yes, indeed. And you are?”
“Auguste Ganimard,” he said with a smile. “And this is my son, Bernard.” Bowler Hat, Bernard, simply nodded. Auguste chuckled, leaning closer to Luke with a conspiratorial wink. “He still misbehaves at operas,” he added in a stage whisper. Layton and Luke both laughed at that, while Bernard let out a huff. Luke’s face then turned thoughtful.
“’Ganimard’… like the Inspector who chased after Arsene Lupin?” he asked. Auguste smiled warmly at that.
“Correct! My father did a lot of good work in the day. It’s too bad he never caught that thief, eh?” He looked up at Layton. “Your apprentice is very well read, it seems.”
Layton smiled warmly at that, patting Luke’s shoulder. “Yes, he is,” he said, before studying the two men behind him.
“Though, I wonder—” Just then, the lights went back down, cutting him off as an expectant hush fell over the audience. Lights glowed on stage, and the next act of the opera began. It was the end of intermission. Layton and Luke quickly turned back in their seats to face the stage, getting reabsorbed in the show.
During the ending number, as the music swelled in triumph, Layton leaned a little closer to his apprentice, turning to look at the Detragan. “Luke. That instrument is Oswald Whistler’s Detragan. They say it allows one musician to play music as rich as a whole orchestra. And I must say, it is very beautiful,” he said, turning back to the stage.
“Not as beautiful as Janice’s voice, Professor,” Luke replied, and Auguste chuckled softly.
“Seems the kid’s got a crush,” Bernard muttered from under his hat. Auguste smiled at that.
“Can’t blame him,” he whispered back.
The music finally tapered out, ending on a beautiful note, and the lights rose over the audience.
“Bravo!” Luke yelled as he jumped to his feet and clapping enthusiastically. Layton also stood and started clapping. They were the only ones to do so, and their confusion at the situation was obvious as their clapping slowed, and they looked around.
“Is it time?” Bernard whispered. Auguste shook his head, putting a hand on the younger man’s arm.
“No, something is wrong. We need to wait until everyone is distracted,” he whispered back, glad the signal was the full round of applause that usually followed a performance.
“Professor? Why aren’t people clapping?” Luke asked, looking up at the man as he looked around. Before Layton could answer, the lights went off again. A shadow appeared on stage, hidden in the darkness for just a moment, before a spotlight appeared over him, revealing a masked man in a feathered hat.
“Ladies and gentleman! Welcome to my theater, the Crown Petone. You are truly fortunate.” The man’s movements were jerky, almost stilted. Auguste frowned deeply at that. Something about it seemed… familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
“For tonight, you will witness a miracle!”
These words made the crowd go wild, and panic flared in Auguste’s chest. He quickly pressed the radio in his ear.
“Not yet.”
“But the signal—” the voice on the other end replied.
“Change of plans. I will let you know, alright?"
“Alright.”
“As was promised when you purchased your tickets, tonight, one person from the audience gathered here will receive the gift of Eternal Life.”
“The gift of Eternal Life?” Luke demanded, as Layton sat down.
“It would seem we were the only ones who didn’t know about this, Luke,” Layton said.
“However,” the man said with a smirk. “There is one condition. All of you gathered here will play a little game. The rules are simple; the prize for the lucky winner! Eternal life. But those of you who loose will lose your life!”
His words sent a ripple of unease through the audience. Auguste sat forward, his eyes locked on the man in stage. Even Bernard, who had barely stirred the entire show, sat up a little straighter, one eye revealing itself from beneath the brim of his hat.
“You must admit, it’s a small fee for those desiring such a big prize!” Discussion flew through the audience for just a moment, before real panic set it, and most people jumped to their feet, fleeing their seats and heading towards the door, crowding the aisles.
Before they could reach the doors, however, masked men stepped in their way, blocking them. The audience members who had ran stopped in confusion and apprehension, staring at the men. Bernard sat up straighter, his hand reaching around his back. Auguste caught his wrist.
“Wait—” he hissed.
Suddenly, the floor of the aisles opened up, dropping the ones who were running through what appeared to be very large trap doors, their screams ripping through the air.
I knew they were hollow! Auguste thought, standing and watching as the people fell in.
Once they had fallen, the floors/trap doors slowly closed, sealing once again.
“Professor!”
Auguste turned to look at the boy, noticing the hint of panic in his voice. Layton turned from where the people had fallen, to the stage, before suddenly jumping to his feet, getting out of the rows of seats, and running towards the stage. Luke was hot on his heels.
“Change of plans,” Auguste said, his voice loosing its French accent as he also stood, quickly catching up to them, Bernard on his heels.
Before Layton, or any of their group, could mount the stairs of the stage, two other people flew up the steps, and the shorter, broader of the two grabbed the masked man on stage, slapping handcuffs on the man’s wrist, the other cuff already around his own.
“Fear not! I am Inspector Grosky of the Yard!” the man announced, holding his badge up for those who remained of the audience to see. “My finely honed investigation showed something suspicious would happen here in this theatre tonight, and I am here to put a stop to it!”
As he was talking, the taller of the two men, Inspector Zenigata, swept his eyes around the theatre, looking for the other masked men who had appeared, then disappeared. He frowned when he couldn’t find them, his gut telling him they would continue to be trouble.
“Ladies and gentlemen! No one will lose their lives! I, Inspector Grosky of the Yard, have arrested this diabolical criminal!”
Auguste’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man handcuffed to Grosky. He was twitching, his face seemingly blank.
“Are you quite sure of that, Inspector?” Professor Layton called up to him. Grosky and Zenigata looked over at the man.
“I say, Layton, is that you?” Grosky called.
“At your service,” Layton replied, tipping his hat.
“And who are your friends?” he asked. Zenigata looked at the Ganimards, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.
“Luke Triton,” Luke said. Before either of the two men behind the Professor could say anything, the masked man’s hand suddenly gave a wrench, before deflating.
“What the--!? A puppet!?”
Of course! His movements were being controlled by strings... that's what it was. Now that those strings have been cut, though... Auguste watched in worry.
The man – the puppet’s – body suddenly expanded, quickly filling with air, just as the room shook. Everyone looked around, but it was Zenigata who discovered the source of the trembling first.
“The roof!?” he gasped. Both Ganimards’ heads snapped up, watching at the dome of the roof seemed to unravel, expanding like a blooming flower.
“Boss…” Bernard muttered.
“I know,” Auguste replied. Layton quickly looked at them, only for his attention to be yanked back to the unfortunate inspector when the man let out a cry of surprise and pain. The inflated puppet floated from the ground, dragging the man with it by his wrist, due to the hand cuffs.
Inspector!” Layton yelled, darting up the steps. Zenigata ran over and jumped, catching Grosky around his waist in an effort to drag him down again, but after a moment, his grip slipped, and the puppet continued skyward.
“Jigen!” Auguste ran forward, clawing at his face. Spandex like material peeled away, revealing Lupin III.
“Got it!” Bernard yanked his Magnum from the back of his waistband, aiming at the puppet, and attempting to get a clear shot around the flailing inspector. Lupin, meanwhile, was searching the edges of the opened roof, looking for the shadow that would reveal Goemon’s position.
BANG-POP!
Jigen’s shot hit true, of course, but the result of popping the balloon caused it to shoot upwards as the air escaped. Lupin’s breath caught in his throat as he spotted Goemon’s shadow, only for both puppet and inspector to slam into him, carrying him away with them.
“Goemon?” Jigen asked, finally removing his own mask.
“He got hit by that thing,” Lupin said, only for laughter to echo over the radio. The five on stage looked around.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Without further interruption, let us begin our journey to Eternal Life!”
The whole room shook again, knocking anyone who was standing to the ground, including the group on stage. Lupin’s eyebrows knitted together at the rumble rolling through the floor, confused for a moment as to why it felt so familiar, before it hit him.
“Jigen, common!” he yelled, standing and darting down the steps of the stage. He felt, rather than saw, the gun man following him, both shedding the clothes of their disguises to reveal Lupin’s signature red jacket, and Jigen’s black suit, waist coat, gray shirt combo.
“Luke!”
“Coming!”
Lupin glanced back to see Layton following them, the boy at his heels. Then his eyes met Zenigata’s.
“LUPIN!” he roared, chasing after them.
Lupin and Jigen slammed through the doors of the theatre, out to the front lawn, only to watch as the décor of the building shifted, changing the building. What turned out to be a ship broke away from the cliffs, and drove out to sea.
“Boss…” Jigen said, watching as the shore quickly shrunk away.
“I know,” Lupin said grimly, a frown covering his face.
“The theatre…” Layton muttered, from where he stepped up next to Lupin.
“It’s really a huge ship!” Luke gasped. Zenigata had also staggered to a halt, staring around with huge eyes.
“But… how?” he asked.
“Seems whoever planned this little game wanted to make sure no one would be able to escape,” Lupin said grimly.