It was 11:51 a.m. when a fax machine begins to rumble. From the top, a paper emerges written in capital letters:

"NATIONAL TREASURY STOLEN IN LIMA"

"Object identified as the Pizarro’s sword", say the report. The suspect? A male. My mission? Track him from Lime to his hideout and arrest him until Sunday 5 p.m! No easy peasy.

Don’t get me wrong. I already was a detective in the LAPD back in 1947 trying to find if I could arrest Don Draper or not. But now, it was my first time in the international business. Interpol does not mess around.

I arrived at Lime at 9 o’clock on a Monday morning. A smiley native lady and his cute baby welcome me in the top of the Machu Picchu city where seemingly is the airport.

The happiness of rarefied air

My witness in the museum told me that she saw the suspect wearing fancy jewelry and asking how to fraud stamps. Driven by an epiphany, logical mental processes at subconscious levels or just my guts I walked to the airport again.

There, I saw a blond lady in a suit, with tired eyes and hunched shoulders. She told me, with all weight of an exhaustive day at work and the constant pressure of a businesswoman in the sexist society: I saw the suspect leaving in a plane with a white and blue flag.

I didn’t think twice. I left headed to San Marino, without even knowing that such international line exists. The fly was record. I lend my feet in the ground at 8 a.m. on Tuesday. In the embark gate was one suspicious creature, walking like a hunting cat. It was a henchman of my nemesis, no less. I followed on pursuit but lost him in the crowd. Undaunted, I keep on his track, trustful that I was getting closer to the luxurious thief.

Another witness identical to the previous one makes me think that businesswoman were indeed conquering the world. She told me that reliable sources said she that my suspect was writing an essay about birds migration. Questions and more questions drive my mind. How has she a sources network? How they discovered that the suspect was writing. Or worse! How the heck was she wearing a suit in San Marino?

Didn't I talked to you just now?

From there I saw some birds flying away in the distant sports club. While walking my way in, a pro tennis told me that who I pursuit tried to photograph some birds and also, that he played cricket. After all, everyone needs a break.

Without options, I visited the airport. As soon as I entered, a guard told me the suspect departed to a prince’s private island. Geez! No one like when royalty is involved. And worse, I was already known and that gives the criminal an advantage.

I checked with the customs, and the prince was Canadian or at least the island he used to own. As I got on the plane, I thanked the heavens for Interpol pay the flights, and I wondered why the criminal committed robberies if he could pay for all those international trips.

The journey continued through Canada and other countries. Sometimes the henchmen fled by the vertical, then by the horizontal. Witnesses were everywhere, detectives, men, guards, women in suits and I wondered if they were not always the same people.

Theft at five-thirty

Saturday came, the day before the end of my term. I got an ID. Fast Eddie B., man, black hair, brown eyes, Mexican who drives only convertibles and loves to play cricket. At least I could stop talking suspect.

With the warrant in hand, I went to Mexico City, where I would find the scoundrel. Interpol invaded his hideout, and finally, I saw him behind bars. However, no one expected that he was just an accomplice (actually yes, the title of the game delivers everything). The real villain was out there, his name: Carmen Sandiego. So I left, in search of the next track and a tasty promotion, since a case was not enough, apparently.

AT LAST!

Phew! All this while I was waiting for the coffee machine to finish my coffee at 7:30 a.m. It was a busy Friday in the office.

You can play Where Is Carmen Sandiego? following this link. All images are in-game featured.