(Broadchurch and Now You See Me crossover?)

2010, Las Vegas

Do you believe in magic? Well, you should, because there's no other explanation for the new scandalous phenomenon — The Four Horsemen. Their latest show in Las Vegas made the whole world go crazy, with more questions than the answers. Especially the final trick.

You were one of The Horsemen. The show you guys planned was almost sacrilegious with how good it was. Your act culminated in a trick that transported an audience member into Paris bank vault, then dispersing stolen euros over the crowd.

When the bank was found empty, the police gave the investigation to Scottish DI Alec Hardy — to find enough evidence and finally arrest the mysterious 'magicians'. At first Hardy didn't want to take the case. Magic? More like unwanted headache with immature people.

You were in the custody. Hands handcuffed and attached to the table, in case you tried something. Alec was sitting in front of him, staring right into your eyes with that hard and intimidating glare. He couldn't understand, just how did four chaotic guys rob the Paris bank from damn Las Vegas!? It seemed unreal and abnormal.

You, on the other hand, were having quite fun. Not to mention that Alec was just your type... You surely had a thing for hardened, determined to get the truth detectives. For some reason you wanted to impress him, to make him follow you and go mad with trick twists.

"Let me warn you. I want you to follow. Because no matter what you think you might know, we will always be one step, three steps, seven steps ahead of you. And when you think you're catching up, that's when we'll be right behind you. And in no time you'll be nowhere but the place I want you to be. Because the closer you are, the less you actually see." You said, a smug smile on your face. Alec seemed on the edge of snapping, that arrogance of yours was making him angry. Like, proper angry.

"I'll nail ye-" He stood up abruptly, fed up with this horseshit, and the next moment? The handcuffs, once on your wrists, were on him. Bloody hell, how?

You asked his DS if the can of Coke on the table was alright. She shaked it, something metallic ringing, then poured it on the table: the handcuff key was there. Magic? No, simple trick. First rule of magicians: be the smartest guy in the room.