Detective Eliza

The Mystery of The Ever-Breaking Internet

An old man, with wrinkles deep enough to hold a lifetime of secrets, tapped his coffee cup rhythmically. "It's the aliens," he muttered, his cloudy eyes darting around, "They're telling us they're here."

A young woman, her face partially hidden by a large floppy hat, whispered excitedly to her friend, "It's a government conspiracy, I tell you. They're trying to control us!"

Martha approached a corner booth where a group of tech enthusiasts usually congregated. "It's likely a massive server failure, or maybe even a cyber-attack," one of them postulated, pushing up his glasses.

As Robert leaned in closer to another group, his analytical mind filtering the useful from the useless, a bead of sweat formed on his temple, trickling down his face. Despite the mist outside, the café's atmosphere was stifling, the heat only accentuated by the tension.

Suddenly, Martha's keen eyes caught a familiar face, the suspicious-looking individual she had observed earlier. He was seated at the bar, trying to look nonchalant while sipping his coffee. However, his fidgety fingers and the way he cast quick, furtive glances gave away his unease.

Seeing Martha's attention, Eliza followed her gaze. Her eyes narrowed, recognizing the man from some previous case, though the details eluded her. A quiet decision passed between the two women. Martha, with her ability to read people, would approach him.

Martha gracefully made her way over, her every step exuding confidence. "Strange times, huh?" she began, her voice casual, as she took the seat next to him.

He stiffened but tried to maintain composure. "Yeah, the whole town's in a tizzy," he replied, his voice betraying a slight tremor.

Back in a dim corner, Eliza kept a close watch, the shadows playing on her face, revealing a mixture of concern and intrigue. Robert, noticing the exchange, discreetly moved closer, ready to offer assistance if needed.

The stage was set. An ordinary café had transformed into a crucible of secrets, and the next few moments would shape the course of their investigation.

The First Clue

The steady hum of the café's chatter continued, punctuated by the hiss of the espresso machine and the soft notes of a blues song playing in the background. In stark contrast to this ambiance, the tension between Martha and the suspicious man was palpable.

"I've seen you around before," Martha said, her tone light but her eyes sharp as they bore into him.

The man tried to laugh it off, the sound coming out more as a nervous chuckle. "A lot of people have seen me around. It's a small town." His eyes shifted uneasily, looking for an escape route.

Martha leaned in slightly, her face inches from his. "Why are you so nervous?" she whispered, her breath cool against his ear.

Taken aback by her direct approach, he hesitated for a moment. In that brief pause, Martha's trained eyes spotted a tiny device peeking out from his jacket pocket. Swiftly, with a fluid motion only a person trained in stealth could achieve, she slipped it out. The man's eyes widened in shock, realizing he had been outplayed.

She examined the tiny electronic contraption with intrigue. "What's this?" Martha inquired, holding the device up to the light. It was sleek, with a series of minuscule buttons and a faint blue light blinking at its side.

"I... I don't know!" he stammered, his face turning a shade paler.

Eliza, sensing the importance of the moment, approached the bar. Her heels clicked softly on the wooden floor, each step resonating with authority. She stood next to Martha, her eyes on the man. "Who are you working for?"