In the annals of French history, few events have shaken the nation quite like the disappearance of a priceless artwork from the Louvre. Not since Napoleon decided Egypt’s treasures would look better in Paris has the City of Light been so… dimmed. But fear not, for France’s most “brilliant” detective, Inspector Jacques Clouseau, was on the case — and chaos was immediately upgraded to pandemonium.
The Crime of the Century (or Lunch Break)
It all began on a crisp Parisian morning when the Louvre’s chief curator discovered that something wasn’t right. The Mona Lisa was smiling a little too smugly — because she was gone. In her place was a note that read:
“Merci for the frame. Très chic. Signed, an admirer.”
Enter Inspector Clouseau, trench coat flapping like a startled baguette, magnifying glass in hand, and moustache twitching with purpose. His arrival alone caused three tourists to faint, one security guard to resign, and a janitor to confess to a crime he didn’t commit — just to leave early.
The Investigation Begins (and Immediately Trips Over Itself)
Clouseau began by dusting the scene for fingerprints. Within five minutes, he had successfully covered himself in more powder than a 17th-century French noble. “Aha!” he declared, squinting through the white haze. “The thief is clever, but not as clever as moi. He has disguised himself as… me!”
His loyal assistant, Sergeant François, tried to interject, “Sir, those are your own fingerprints.”
Clouseau waved him off. “Exactly! He has stolen my identity too! This is a crime of imitation!”
The inspector’s interrogation of museum staff was equally productive. He questioned the cafeteria chef for six hours about the missing sandwich from his own lunch bag before realizing he’d eaten it himself. By the time he reached the security footage, he had already arrested two mime artists, a pigeon, and the reflection of a man he was certain was following him — in a mirror.
A Trail of Clues (and Croissants)
Clouseau soon deduced the culprit must be an international mastermind — or possibly a slightly sneaky art student. His evidence? A croissant crumb on the floor, which he concluded “could not possibly belong to a Frenchman, because it was not perfectly baked.”
He traced the crumb trail through Paris, leaving behind chaos that included:
A café raid because a customer ordered “American coffee.” A mistaken arrest of a street painter, whose only crime was painting Clouseau’s portrait — upside down. A dramatic chase through the Seine, after which Clouseau realized he’d been pursuing his own floating hat.
The Shocking Conclusion
Days later, Clouseau made his grand announcement: “I have found the thief!”
The room gasped.
“It is… me!” he declared, holding up his own Louvre souvenir bag. Inside was a replica Mona Lisa he had bought earlier from the gift shop, mistaking it for the original.
The real painting, as it turned out, had never left the museum. It had simply been taken for restoration — a memo Clouseau had personally approved but “filed under mystery.”
When asked for comment, the Louvre’s director simply sighed, “We would have called Interpol, but honestly, Clouseau makes better television.”
Epilogue: A Hero in His Own Reflection
Though the “theft” was ultimately a misunderstanding, Inspector Clouseau emerged as a national hero — at least in his own eyes. The French government awarded him the Medal of Questionable Merit, and tourists now flock to the Louvre not only to see the Mona Lisa but also to spot the man who nearly arrested her for smiling suspiciously.
As Clouseau himself put it, “I always solve my cases — eventually — even if they were never crimes to begin with.”
Centre for Nigeria Progress 