#xshowoff

     "Sherlock Holmes. Oh my."

Sierra stood outside the flat, knocking on the door, waiting impatiently for an answer. She had to see this consulting detective. This was a very delicate matter, very important to her personally, and she would not trust it to anyone but the best. And she'd done her homework--Sherlock Holmes was the best. Just that morning, a very old sword from Scandinavia had gone missing from her private collection of archaeological artifacts. She had dug it up herself from a burial mound, worked on the restoration and preservation herself, and it was one of her most prized possessions. Displayed in a climate-controlled case in her gallery, carefully watched over by the staff and a security system which included video surveillance, the sword was quite well protected. Yet somehow, someone had stolen it. There was a bright flash into the camera's lens, momentarily obscuring the video; long enough for them to apparently spirit away the sword. Only that wasn't possible. The case was virtually untouched, no signs on tampering, though it was only able to be opened by the key she kept on her key ring at all times; there were laser sensors that hadn't been tripped, and no one had seen anyone enter or exit the room.  The entire staff had been accounted for, everyone checked thoroughly. The thief must have been a ghost.