Chapter 6: The Shadow Broker's Trivia
[Morning – 99th Precinct Bullpen – November 14, 2013]
The 99th Precinct bullpen was a whirlwind of energy and misplaced enthusiasm. Today's source? A gaudy, plastic trophy placed in the center of the main desk. Detective Jake Peralta stood over it, a triumphant grin on his face.
"Behold, my comrades!" he announced, gesturing to the trophy. "The sacred chalice of the MacLaren's Pub Annual Trivia Night! This year, we claim it for the Nine-Nine!"
Amy Santiago, meticulously organizing a stack of files, did not look up. "Jake, it's a pub quiz. It's not a heroic quest."
"It's the most heroic of quests!" Jake countered. "It's a battle of wits! A war of knowledge! A… a brain-off! We need a team, people, and I'm looking at the best and brightest." He pointed at Adam Stiels, who was calmly sipping from a travel mug. "Adam, you're in. Your brain is a beautiful, chaotic mess, but it's a brilliant mess. You're our wildcard."
Adam shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "I'm flattered, I think. But I'm more of a spectator than a competitor. Unless the categories are 'Obscure Flash Villains' or 'The Worst TV Show Finales of All Time.'"
It's just a pub quiz. Nothing to worry about. But in a world like this, 'nothing to worry about' is usually a sign that something is about to go terribly wrong. Adam's inner monologue was interrupted by a familiar, abrupt sensation. The world seemed to pause for a microsecond as a translucent blue overlay appeared at the edge of his vision.
[SYSTEM: New Objective Unlocked: Unravel the Trivia Code.] The message vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving him with a sense of quiet intrigue. He looked from Jake's excited face to the small trophy. This wasn't just about trivia. It was a case.
Charles Boyle suddenly appeared, carrying a towering tray of homemade, bite-sized sandwiches and a Thermos of what he called "artisanal kombucha." "Behold, the 'MacLaren's Masterpieces'!" he proclaimed. "Each snack is designed to enhance specific brain functions. The 'Sherlock Salmon Bites' improve deduction, and the 'Caffeine-Infused Carrot Sticks' give you mental agility!"
Gina Linetti, who had been painting her nails at her desk, glanced at the tray and let out a single, dismissive snort. "Charles, the only thing that's going to improve is my mood, once I watch those sandwiches fall to the floor."
As if on cue, a sudden gust of wind from an open door caused the tray to wobble. Charles, in a panic, lurched forward, sending the sandwiches flying. One perfectly-crafted salmon bite landed directly on Captain Holt's pristine shoes as he walked past.
Holt stopped, looked down at the offending snack, then up at Charles. His face remained perfectly impassive. "Boyle," he said, his voice flat. "The shoes are a minor casualty. But the scent of salmon in this precinct is a major offense." He turned and walked into his office without another word.
Jake, who had been holding back laughter, clapped a hand on Adam's shoulder. "See, Adam? Chaos! It's what we do! But we can channel this chaos into a perfect trivia victory."
"Or," Adam said, picking up a rogue carrot stick, "we can channel it into solving a case. I have a feeling the trivia questions themselves are the next lead." He met Jake's gaze, and for the first time that morning, Jake's expression became serious.
[Evening – MacLaren's Pub – November 14, 2013]
The air in MacLaren's Pub was a thick, cheerful soup of conversation, laughter, and the distinct aroma of beer and French fries. The 99th Precinct's "dream team"—Jake, Amy, Rosa, Charles, and Adam—was crammed into a large booth. They had been joined by Marshall, Lily, and Ted, who were all vying for a spot at the table.
"Okay, everyone!" the trivia host announced, his voice booming over the sound system. "Let's begin Round One! Category: American History!"
The first question was simple, about the date of the Boston Tea Party. Amy, with her encyclopedic knowledge, immediately scribbled the correct answer. Adam, meanwhile, wasn't looking at the answer sheet. He was watching the trivia questions pop up on the screen, a subtle, almost imperceptible shimmer visible only to him.
[SYSTEM: Processing Anomalous Data... Code Found. Cross-referencing with NYPD database.] The System was working on the back end, analyzing the questions for hidden patterns.
"Second question!" the host yelled. "The infamous 'Phantom of the Opera' case, where the identity of the thief was never revealed, was said to have been solved by a detective in what year?"
"Wait a minute," Adam muttered, pulling out his phone and typing. "That's not a real case. That's from a musical."
"Adam, stay focused!" Amy hissed. "We can't lose this! The prize is Vegas!"
Ted leaned in from the side. "Phantom of the Opera… that's such a classic tragic romance! I wonder if The Mother likes musicals…"
Barney, who had been sitting at a separate table with Robin, slid over. "That's a no-brainer! It was solved in 2008! I was there! It was a legendary investigation, with me as the lead detective!"
Adam ignored them all, his focus locked on the System's output. The phrase "Phantom of the Opera" had been cross-referenced with the NYPD's cold case files. The System's analysis was fast and precise, linking the fictional musical to a specific, real-life unsolved case from 1988. The "Phantom of the Opera" was a code name used in the case files by an anonymous informant.
A coded message. Just like I thought. Adam's mind was racing. Someone is using this trivia night to pass information. The Shadow Broker.
He subtly kicked Jake's foot under the table. When Jake looked at him, Adam simply mouthed, "The questions are clues."
Jake's eyes lit up, his inner detective and his love of spy movies colliding. "Oh my God! It's like National Treasure! Are we looking for the secret to a Freemason vault?"
"Just… answer the questions, Jake," Adam said calmly. "The real prize isn't Vegas. It's what's in the files."
[Late Night – MacLaren's Pub – November 14, 2013]
The trivia night had ended with a dramatic flourish. The 99th Precinct team, led by Amy's rigorous knowledge and Adam's quiet, strategic guidance, had won. As Jake held the cheap trophy above his head, Adam, Rosa, and Jake gathered in a tight circle near the bar, their celebratory mood replaced by a quiet sense of purpose.
"The 'Phantom of the Opera' question," Adam said, his voice low. "It's a direct reference to an unsolved cold case from 1988. A case that was mysteriously closed by a retired detective named Leo Kane."
Rosa's face, which had been unreadable, showed a flash of interest. "Kane? He was a legend back then. He went dark after that case, no one ever heard from him again."
"The questions weren't random," Adam continued. "They were all connected to our cold case files. The 'rare antique compass' question was about a piece of evidence that vanished from that case. The 'library archives' question referred to where the evidence was supposed to be. It's a communication method, Jake. The Shadow Broker is using trivia as a dead drop."
Jake's smile had vanished, replaced by a look of awe and determination. "This is the real thing, isn't it? Not some lame robbery. This is a real conspiracy. A secret society."
"This isn't a secret society, Jake. This is a criminal network," Rosa corrected, her voice cold. "And they just sent us a message."
The trio's newfound focus was a stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere of the rest of the group. Marshall, Lily, and Ted were celebrating the victory, oblivious to the high-stakes conversation happening just a few feet away.
This world is far more complex than I ever gave it credit for, Adam mused internally. And I am officially in the middle of it.
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