by M. A. Owens
“I get it. You’re innocent and someone framed you. What else?”
He pulled out his handkerchief and starting wiping away the accumulated sweat. “Now I’m in serious hot water. I told one of Mr. B’s cats I would stake my business and reputation on this being a setup. He said he would give me the opportunity to prove it, but they closed my theater until I could do just that. Nobody’s happy when the theater is closed, detective. Least of all, me. Folks might go to a new theater, and I’m losing buckets of money every day we're not open.”
“Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind sharing a bucket or two with me then?”
“Now that you’ve heard what I’ve had to say, how does two thousand dollars sound? One thousand up front.”
“Been a while since I’ve been to Adria, Brutus, but from what I remember, a thousand dollars won’t take a dog very far.”
He was sweating even more now. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind. Trying to get money out of these rich types really was like trying to pull teeth from a turnip.
He scowled. “I suppose you can’t be expected to travel all around Adria on your own dime. Here’s what I'll do for you. My company has a charge account at nearly every major establishment in the district. I’ll give you one of those cards. All your expenses. Entertainment, food, drinks, a place to stay - whatever you can think of. I’ll cover it and write it off as a company expense. Though, I hope you won’t get too carried away. This way you keep every dime you make and have yourself a good time along the way I hope. Sound fair?”
This dog was desperate. In reality, he probably just multiplied his offer by five or ten. Day-to-day expenses in Adria were huge. Talk about going outside of your comfort zone…
“That’ll be sufficient, Mr. Brutus. You just hired yourself a detective.”
He all but jumped to his feet and extended his paw. “When can you start?”
I took it with a firm grasp. “Tomorrow.”
Odds were good that some of Agatha’s stolen items, along with their thief, made their way to Adria too. It might also include one ruby collar. This was my chance to find out, and maybe change my luck in the process.
22
After Mr. Brutus gave me my advance and left, I advanced Zelda a month of pay too. She was happy, until I let her know we’d be shutting down for a while. I wanted to make sure I paid her all the way through, and I could afford to with the advance I got. After that, I went about finding a suit in my closet. Just one suit. Brutus could pay for the other two when I got there.
It was a long walk to Adria. Took most of the day to get there. Talk about a sight to behold. High walls surrounded the district. It looked a lot more like a fortress than a city district. Cats were loitering outside the gate, probably hoping to pickpocket one of the work passes into the district. Brutus told me to guard mine like a firstborn pup. At the gate, a sharply dressed pooch asked to see my pass. He slid it through some kind of machine and the gate opened automatically. Two Rottweilers holding some type of long weapon I’d never seen before stood on either side of the gate. The things looked like metal poles with two prongs coming off the end. Probably those new shock sticks I’ve been hearing about. I wasn’t keen to find out, though.
You could hear music playing the moment you walked in; it was coming out of the various establishments that lined the streets near the gate. Everybody looked loaded. Seemed to be having a great time while stumbling out of these places. It became a calmer, more serious place as I got farther away from the gate. The party joints gave way to clothing stores, radio shops, jewelry stores, and more. After stopping several times to ask for directions, I finally made my way to the Starlight Theater to see Brutus.
This place really looked like it belonged. It was at least ten times bigger than the biggest movie theater we had back home. A big Rottweiler greeted me at the door and told me that Brutus was expecting me. When I stepped inside, an expansive purple carpet greeted me. There wasn't a stain to be seen. All the furniture looked to be made of hardwood with a beautiful lacquer finish, and every print painstakingly wiped away. Along the top of all the counters was gold trimming, which I suspected wasn’t imitation. Once we made it into Brutus’s office, he appeared to be in much better spirits than he was the last time I saw him.
“Mr. Trigger, so very glad you made it. What’s your impression of the district so far?”
“It’s quite an upscale place, Mr. Brutus. However, probably best I not elaborate on my overall impression.”
He laughed. “I think I know exactly what you mean, detective. So, are you ready to get started?”
“Let’s start by interviewing your boy who was in charge of changing the reel. Do you have a private office I can use while I’m investigating? I prefer these interviews to be one-on-one.”
“I’m a little hesitant to let you do that, but if that’s what it takes for you to do your best work, then I’ll have a private office prepared for you.” He looked to the big dog that had escorted me inside and said, “Show Mr. Trigger to the office down the hall.”
I figured out what was going on with the big dog when he escorted me to an office that was only a few doors down. One I might’ve easily shown myself to. I suppose it’s understandable. I’m not sure I’d fully trust me either, given the circumstances.
“Hey big guy, got a name?”
“The name’s Marty, detective, but keep in mind Mr. Brutus isn’t paying me for small talk. You probably figured out by now I’m being paid to keep an eye on you. So, don’t try anything funny while you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Marty. Also, you never know. You and I might be good friends by the time this is over.”
He laughed out loud, breaking the stoic demeanor he had been carrying. “The moon just might come crashing down and smash right into this theater, Mr. Trigger. You just never know about these kinds of things. Let me go fetch the gentleman.”
I looked around the office trying to imagine what this manager’s life might have been like. Did he have a family? Evidently, he had a nice place to live. I wonder what the residential area in a place like this might look like. Side-by-side mansions spanning for miles into the horizon? No, probably nothing so extreme. I bet they looked a little better than my apartment though. A lot of the people who worked in Adria didn’t live in the district. They come here and worked their day, then leave the district and go home if they live close enough. Still, even some dogs who were big shots outside the district were fighting tooth and nail for a chance to come to a place like this and sweep the floors. That’s why the closer you got to Adria’s gates, the nicer the homes were in the Black District.
I once knew an accountant in my neck of the woods who tried for six months only to finally get a job waiting tables at a restaurant here. Worked there for a year, chatting people up on his lunch break, meeting people. Then he landed the biggest client of his career. Said he paid more than the next thirty clients below him combined. After that, he had all but retired. He worked with the one guy from Adria when he needed him. That’s one of those rare feel-good stories though. Most of the time, kids came here with big eyes and big hearts, getting promptly used up by the city and thrown away when they’re done. Most of those who live here will only do business with the people they grew up with. So there’s not much room for the outsider to come in. Guess you could say that with almost everybody. I’d like to think I gave everyone a fair shake.
23
“Alright, Trigger, here’s your dog. His name’s Tuffy. He’s the one Mr. Brutus told you about.”
Tuffy was a Pomeranian who was allergic to eye contact and sitting still. That didn’t mean much in this kind of situation, though. I was a little nervous myself. Besides, Tuffy had that distinct “fall guy” look. Young pup and tense; he was in the right place at the right time.
“Have a seat, Tuffy. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” I pointed to the chair across from me. Marty gave him an impolite shove, and he went over to have a seat.
>
“You gotta believe me, mister. I didn’t do it. I didn’t have nothing to do with that reel. Either of ‘em, swear it.”
“My name’s Trigger, private detective. I only want to ask you a few questions. Maybe take it easy.”
He took a deep breath and put on his best fake calm face. “Alright.”
“Sometimes going in order is a little boring, Tuffy, so let’s take these questions as they pop into my head. Let’s start with why you didn’t change the reel when Mr. Brutus was trying to get your attention to change it.”
“It’s like I told Mr. Brutus. I can’t hear real well up in that room.”
I signaled for Marty to leave, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Did you forget that your boss said I could have these one-on-one interviews?”
He looked like he wanted to bite my head off. “You’re right, Mr. Trigger. Where are my manners?” He stepped out of the office and closed the door.
“Now, where were we? Oh, you were just telling me that big fat lie about not being able to hear Brutus up in the booth.”
“Mr. Trigger, you gotta believe me. I–”
“I gotta believe nothing, kid. Least of all the big fat lies being told right to my face. Care to try again?”
“Alright, detective, you win. It’s true you can’t hear well up in the booth, but you can hear a little. Maybe I liked what I heard, alright? Maybe I agreed with it.”
“So, you act like you can’t hear any of it. You made sure not to look toward Brutus so you wouldn’t see him signaling for you to turn it off. That about right?”
He crossed his arms. “Yeah. That’s about right.”
“So how do you figure into bringing the new reel in here?”
“I don’t figure into it. So maybe I liked their work. I didn’t have anything to do with bringing it in here.”
I leaned over and pointed my paw in his face. “Who else besides you handles the reels?”
“What’s your angle in all this, Detective?” he squealed.
“I’m angling to get paid, kid.”
He threw his paws in the air. “That’s the problem. This whole situation with Mr. B. I got no problem with making money. It’s why I’m here too. The problem is when it’s all you care about. Problem is when you’re willing to do anything for a dime.”
I didn’t disagree with the kid, but I couldn’t say so. “That’s a nice speech there, Tuffy. Only you still didn’t answer my question. Who else handles the reels?”
He lowered his head, defeated. “Alright. It’s easy to see you got a wad of cash where your heart should be, just like everyone else in this city. We’ve got a maintenance dog who moves the boxes where they need to go after they get shipped in. Then there’s the guy who ships ‘em in, beyond that the distribution company, beyond that the production company. Need me to go on?”
“They pay you extra for your wisecracks, Tuffy?”
“No, sir. We done?”
“Yeah, for now.”
Tuffy stood up and walked out of the room in a huff. I called Marty back into the office.
“Get anything good out of the guy?” Marty asked.
“Wouldn’t be able to tell you if I did.”
“That how you’re going to play it, detective?”
“That’s how I’m playing it.”
He looked as though his head would pop at any moment. A thinly disguised growl lay on his lips, but he had about as much of a chance of keeping that act up as a boulder floating in a pond.
“Is the maintenance guy in?”
“Probably.”
“Be a sport and fetch him for me. I need to ask him a few questions.”
24
It took Marty all of ten minutes to get back to the room with the suspect in tow. The suspect was a Chihuahua like me. Almost solid brown with a patch of white fur around his left eye. I motioned for him to sit down.
“You must be the dog that does the maintenance around here. What’s your name?” I asked.
He sat down across from me like he had done a thousand times before. “Name’s Brownie. Can we make this quick? I gotta get back to work.”
“That’s up to you, Brownie. This could take all day if we feel like it - right, Marty?”
Marty rubbed the knuckles on his paw enthusiastically. “Yeah, I got nowhere else to be.”
Brownie looked back and forth between Marty and I, letting loose a big laugh. “Don’t you think you’re starting the tough-cop routine a little early?”
“Since neither of us are cops, I don’t know how well that'll go over,” I replied.
“Well, out with it. Make hay while the sun still shines and all that.”
“You seem awfully experienced with these kinds of interviews,” I stated.
“So you called me in here for an interview… to ask me why I seem experienced with doing interviews?”
“No, this is just a bonus question. Satisfying my curiosity.”
“So, you’re not a cop?”
“You remember how I said earlier that this could either go quick or we could take all day?”
“Yeah.”
“If you keep answering every question with another question, I'll have to ask Marty to get us a couple of pillows and a bunk bed.”
He smirked, turning his face. “Fire away, detective.”
“You’re familiar with the swapping incident, correct?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious. Want to just skip to the real question?”
“No, I know exactly what I asked. I want to know how familiar you are with it.”
“I orchestrated the whole thing. I had the fake reel made. Got it smuggled in here too. Would you believe me if I told you that?”
“I might. I get paid either way. All I have to do is pin it on somebody and that sounded like a confession to me. And hey, we’ve got a witness too. That sound like a good enough confession to you, Marty?”
“More than good enough for me.” Marty grinned.
“Well, there you have it. Let’s give the cops a ring and we’ll wrap this all up. Whole case solved before supper time. How about that?”
Brownie’s charismatic smile faded into a quivering frown, just like the schoolyard bully beaten in front of his friends by the runt. It looked like I had succeeded in making him nervous. Nervous dogs always make mistakes.
“Okay, now hold on! I’ll tell you I’m not your man, just in case you really are interested in solving this. I didn’t have anything to do with the reel swapping.”
“Oh? You're awfully forthcoming with the information now, Brownie.”
“I had my fun, detective, but now I’m telling you the truth. All I do is unbox the things when they come in. I take them to the right room or take the whole box to the right room if it all goes to the same place. I don’t check them. I box the old ones up and I unbox the new ones. I put the new ones on the machine if I’m asked to; if I’m not asked to, then I don’t even open the box.”
“Were you asked to when the switch happened?”
Brownie looked down for a moment, trying to remember. “You know what? I wasn’t. I wasn’t asked to open them that night.”
“Alright, Brownie. You’re free to go for now.”
He stood up, nodded, and hustled out of the room. Something about him didn’t feel right. He was definitely hiding something. I went back to Mr. Brutus’s office and got his address. Something told me it would be worth following him home to get a closer look. You learn from experience doing this job that it’s best not to ignore your instinct. It rarely steers you wrong.
25
I kept my distance as I followed him through the various corridors of Adria. We eventually wound up at what appeared to be a small, abandoned storage building nestled in the middle of several larger buildings. That made it conveniently difficult to spot from a distance. After he approached the door, he entered a code onto a keypad. I was too far away to see what he’d entered, but this whole case was getting more interesting by the minute.
When he pressed the last button there was a loud click, and the door snapped slightly ajar. After Brownie entered and closed the door behind him, I made my way around the building to see if I could find a way inside, or at least a way to see what was going on in there. The best I saw was a ventilation fan about midways up on the building on the back side. Not ideal, but it would have to suffice.
As quietly as I could, I moved whatever boxes and crates I could find nearby into something resembling a pyramid I could climb onto. I climbed atop my shaky tower and peered inside. Too bad the fan was running. It covered up any noise I made, sure, but I couldn’t hear a doggone thing. There were several tables in the room with machines on top with a couple of dogs and cats on each side tinkering away. I had to watch for a while before I realized what was going on. At first, it looked like they were repairing slot machines, but it became clear after I saw one move over to a testing table. They pulled the lever bizarrely, almost like a code, and it would come up jackpot every time. They were rigging the machines.
I climbed down quietly as I could and made my way to the nearest payphone. I phoned Lieutenant Buddy and told him what was going on. He was quiet for a moment before he told me he’d better let me talk to Patches.
“You say you’re where, Trigger?”
“Adria, Colonel. I’ve got a whole warehouse full of slot-machine fixers ready for your boys to come and haul off.”
“I'll give you a fair warning about Adria. The chief doesn’t let the rest of us go there. He allows only Colonel Bones and his men to police there. My hands are tied.”
“Alright, so do I even need to guess what kind of dog Bones is?”
“Do you?”
I sighed. “How big of a problem is this guy?”
“Look, why don’t you meet him for yourself? You’ll see what I mean. Just call back and ask to speak to Colonel Bones. But Trigger, remember one thing: he’s not on your side.”