Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

  “No, I'm afraid I didn't have the chance. Would you still like me to?”

  I pondered the question for a long while. “I'm not sure she's even an enemy. Let's leave her alone for now.”

  “If you say so.”

  We spent the next several hours chatting and looking back on events. I told him about my plans to use the money from the last job to open a new office in the Black District. He talked about how he’d gotten caught on purpose to help the judge’s family but found himself unable to escape. We shared a laugh about it. When I realized how long I’d been there, I stood up and offered my paw. We shook and I left the office. A private detective becoming good friends with one of the most wanted criminals in Arc City history. How’s that for irony?

  I went to see Sugarplum, who promptly showed me to her new office. It was modest for her and standard fare for a business office, but still a nice start.

  “What do you think, Trigger?” she asked, eager for an answer.

  “Elaborate for a private detective’s office. We could spend a few hours pouring dust around here and there while throwing papers on the floor to make it more authentic.”

  She put her paw over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oh dear, no. I think I’ll turn my father’s cover business into a real business. Insurance in the form of private security. We’ll staff your business with trained security personnel. For a fee, of course, but we’ll cover the expenses if anything happens to the business. What do you think?”

  “I like it better than beating people up if they don’t pay you money. I think this is even legal, too. A big plus.”

  “Trigger, you’ve helped me a great deal—”

  “Yeah, see to it I don’t regret that,” I grunted.

  “No promises,” she said. “What can I get for you? Name one thing. Anything. I’ll get it for you. Name it and it’ll be yours.”

  “Anything at all?”

  She nodded in confirmation. “Anything at all.”

  I left the building, a content smile across my face, giving my pocket a triumphant pat.

  My next stop was Blue District headquarters. I walked into Patches’ office where he was joined by Lieutenant Buddy and Lieutenant Petey. Except Lieutenant Buddy was now Colonel Buddy. Patches assigned him to head up the Adria division, charged with cleaning up both the division and Adria itself. It was quite the job and a responsibility that no one envied. I slapped Buddy on the back and offered him my congratulations.

  He shook my paw. “Why don’t you come join me in Adria, Trigger? Just keep that old badge in your paw there and forget you ever came to give it back.”

  I smiled back at him. I’ll admit that the thought crossed my mind. I got a little choked up when I tried to answer.

  Patches spoke up and saved me the embarrassment. “Alright ladies, I need to see the big hero here. Why don’t you catch the rookies up on your plan for the coming weeks?”

  The two nodded at each other, with Petey making imitation punches toward me as he walked out, laughing. Nothing could bring these dogs down. They were in quite the mood.

  Patches closed the door to his office as he said, “You thought about it for a minute there, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  I placed the badge in Patches’ paw.

  He shook it in the air, smiling. “This is yours, any time you want to come back and get it. You’ll always have a place here.”

  “It’s good to know there are still honest cops I can call if I get into trouble. Some folks will still be afraid to go to the police, but they’ll come to me. The city needs someone like that. So long, Patches. I’ll be seeing you around.” We shook paws, and I headed toward the door but stopped short. “Oh, one more thing.” I reached into my other pocket, pulling out the gold watch Mr. B had sent me and gently tossed it onto the desk. “Auction that thing off. It ought to fetch enough to outfit every officer in the Black District with those fancy zap sticks they have in Adria.”

  “Where did you… Nope, never mind. I don’t want to know. Thank you, Trigger. See you around.”

  I left and headed toward my final stop of the day, a payphone just outside my old office. I rang up Lily and asked her to meet me on the bench just across the street from what was left of it. After she left me have a word in, that is. She did think I was dead for a time, so it was understandable that I’d get an earful.

  While I waited, I took the opportunity to rummage through the debris. I’m not sure what I was hoping to find, but I didn’t find it. It’s amazing how hard it is to recognize what things are after they’ve been burned. In a way, it wasn’t just my office that ended up this way. It was hard to look at any part of my life from before Lily walked in with her missing collar problem, and see myself as the same dog.

  When I saw Lily approaching, I walked across the street and sat on the bench. She sat down beside me, silently looking over the burnt rubble.

  “Are you going to open a new office somewhere?” she asked.

  “Right there, actually. Going to purchase the lot from my old landlord and have a new building built there. The landlord’s actually an architect. Maybe I’ll have him design the new one.”

  “I look forward to seeing it,” she said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I heard about what happened. You’re getting a reputation as quite the hero around here. I rather admire you, and your courage, detective.”

  “It’s funny, Lily. Now that I think about it, it’s your case that got all this started, and how it all ended.”

  “How it all ended?”

  I picked up the small box sitting at my side and handed it over to her. “Here, this is for you.”

  “Shall I open it?”

  I nodded. She opened the box and dropped it onto the ground below, placing both her paws over her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears.

  “You found it! You really found my mother’s collar.”

  I grinned and scratched the back of my head, not prepared for the surge of excitement. She lunged toward me and hugged me tightly.

  “Oh, Trigger, even if you weren’t anyone else’s hero, you’ll always be mine.”

  Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

  Epilogue

  “I can do this,” Constance whispered to herself.

  This was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life. A chance to finally claw her way out of the Black District slums, and into a life of glamor and fortune in Adria. She’d finally be able to wear the latest fashion, enjoy the finest dining, and buy the most expensive baubles and trinkets.

  No more bullying from her older siblings. No more disappointment from her mother. No more judgmental glances from passersby. No more stealing to pay the rent for an apartment no one should even have to stay in for free. No more sobbing into her pillow at night, waiting for a handsome rescuer who would never come.

  “I just have to deliver one message, and it’s home free. Big payday here I come!” She still whispered, but her excitement was getting the better of her… just a bit.

  She was told it would be dangerous, but there was no danger as far as she could see. The dark streets of Arc City might be scary for a cat like the one who hired her, but not for her. She’d grown up on these streets. She could feel when she was being followed. She could sense eyes on her. She knew which back alleys were safe, and which where a death sentence. She wasn’t a big cat, but her claws were sharp, and she’d used them before. Good enough to win a lot of fights, but more than good enough to run away from the ones she couldn’t.

  “This must be it,” she said, letting out a huge sigh of relief as she arrived at the entrance of an old, rundown apartment complex. “This dog’s apartment isn’t much better than mine. Wonder what’s so special about him?” Then she realized it wasn’t her job to wonder about it. It was her job to follow the instructions in the letter and be on her way. She was just the go-between, and that was fine by her.

  The front was locked, but she’d never met a side entrance she could
n’t quietly sneak into, so that’s what she did. In this case, the best option was a fire exit on the second floor down a side alley. She ran toward the opposite wall, jumped and kicked off, and caught the bottom of a raised ladder on the opposite side. As she pulled herself up, she was startled by a shift in the moonlight she’d noticed out of the corner of her eye and snapped her attention to the roof of the opposite building.

  She hadn’t made a sound, and no one had been following her, as far as she was aware. She scanned her surroundings for a few minutes, but nothing presented itself. There was a light wind and the smell of a coming rain creeping into the night air. Probably a stray piece of litter blowing by. No one was that stealthy, so it must have been. She gathered herself and wedged open the door, entering the dark hallways of the apartment’s shared interior space.

  She was in luck. Only a short distance down the hall was the door she’d been looking for. In just a few short hours, she’d be back in Adria, this time to stay. Then, it would be on to the next job, and a new life. She took a deep breath, raised her paw, and prepared to knock on the door. Before she could bring her paw forward, she noticed a line of vertical light land on the door, and slowly become smaller as it traveled along the wall back toward the fire exit. The fire exit!

  She looked up, just in time to see it close quietly, leaving the interior nearly pitch dark again. Her cat eyes adjusted quickly, and although she couldn’t see perfectly, she could see a figure slowly moving toward her in the dark. She wasn’t alone.

  1

  I could feel the rain coming in the breeze through the cracked window, but the storm was holding off as if it was waiting for just the right moment. A little eerie, but a perfect night to steal some peace and quiet. Earlier today, I had helped one of Arc City's finest chase down a thief. Little brown Chihuahuas like myself aren't built for running, so this opportunity to relax was very much welcome.

  I sat down and turned the radio dial to my favorite detective show. My cramped apartment, normally noisy from all the hooligans hollering outside, was silent. A rare occasion. One perfect for listening to a good radio show. I poured my drink and sat down in my chair when I heard it. The scream rang out from just outside my door. I leapt from my chair, slamming my drink on my table as I sped toward the door. I made quick work of the lock and spilled into the dim hallway. I heard an exit door slam on the far end, but there was no way I would catch whoever it was now. I fumbled around until I found the switch for the brighter hallway lights and turned it on, but by then a small crowd had gathered at the scene. I heard the scream of old Mrs. Candy behind me.

  "She's dead, detective. She's been murdered!"

  I whirled around after turning on the light switch. I ran over to the young cat, desperately checking for vitals. The victim was lying face down and had no pulse. Everyone crowded in more, blocking my light.

  "All right, back it up," I said. Mrs. Candy gave me support, shooing the other tenants further down the hall. I continued inspecting the body, finding she had been killed from a single blow to the head. She was a fully grown cat, a little bigger than me. Judging by the wound on the top of the head and the size of the damage, this was the work of a dog. And not a small one like me. This had all the markings of a big dog; strong, and fast. One who had no intention to scare or to wound, but to kill.

  I checked the vic's coat pocket, looking for any clue as to why she had been here or what might've happened. She had nothing on her person, but when I checked her purse, I realized quickly we could rule out a robbery. She had a thousand dollars cash in her purse, and a note. I pulled it out and read it quietly to myself.

  Constance,

  Take the money I left you and this letter. Go to the Black District and look for a private detective there. His name's Trigger. He's a small, brown Chihuahua with a blinded right eye. He usually wears a fedora and a long tan coat over a suit. I know how much you hate dogs, especially the small ones, but he's the only one who can help us.

  Trigger is good at what he does, and he's had dealings with the Grand Gobbler before.

  I need you to rekindle his interests by any means necessary. Give him the whole grand up front if you have to. I believe others already know of my intention to locate the statue and may look to sabotage you. Be EXTREMELY careful and make sure you aren't followed.

  Just my luck. Someone who doesn't like to sign their letters. If Constance here disliked dogs so much, surely the sender was a cat. Now, how do I find this mystery cat?

  I cleared out all the audience members and asked Mrs. Candy to keep an eye on the body while I gave Lieutenant Petey a ring. He never liked late-night calls, which is partially why I loved calling him.

  Mrs. Candy dutifully pushed the crowd back and made sure no one else interfered with the scene. She was a substitute mother to a lot of the residents here, so they listened to her better than me. She was the first to welcome me when I moved into this building, and more importantly she respected my desire for privacy enough not to go inserting my name into things if the press showed up before the cops.

  Petey answered after the fifth ring. "Yeah?"

  "Petey?"

  "Trigger? This better be good. Look, if this is about earlier, if it makes you feel better I went on a diet and start exercising tomorrow. I mean, can you believe it, a greyhound being out-raced by a Chihuahua? Why, my parents would-"

  "Save it, Petey, I'm not calling you about that. As we speak I'm standing approximately twenty feet from a dead body, still warm. I need you and a couple of your boys to come down here, take care of the scene. She had a lett–" I stopped myself from telling Petey about the letter. Whoever wrote it was concerned about anyone finding out. If this got plastered in the papers, they would make themselves a lot harder to find. For the time being, Petey would have to settle for most of the truth.

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing Petey. You and your boys just get down here as quick as you can." I hung up the phone and went back to the hallway to wait.

  2

  I grabbed the envelope, along with the letter and the cash. When Petey came, I stuck to the facts... minus the envelope.

  "Nice work keeping the scene intact," he said. "Any idea who this dame is?" He tried to fight back a yawn, but it was a losing battle.

  "I don't. She may have been here to see me, but I can't say for certain. Killed by a single blow to the head. Screamed once just before. Was dead by the time I made it out here. All I saw of the perp was a whole lot of nothing, just a shadow and that exit door at the end of the hall slamming. This brighter light wasn't on at the time."

  Petey sighed, resting his paw between his eyes rubbing the length of his snout. "I'm not surprised. We never seem to get any open and shuts anymore. Look, my head's seen less than two hours of a pillow in the last two days. I'm going to do you and me a favor here and hold off on the paperwork. Come by later and fill out a report."

  "You got it." I gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, before returning to my apartment. That's one dog's job I didn't envy. When he and his officers finally finished their work and left, I stole a few hours sleep.

  The next morning, I headed straight for the Rose Garden Estates after leaving a note at the office for Zelda, my secretary. There's only one individual who I ever met that at one point owned the Grand Gobbler, and she was an elderly Chihuahua by the name of Agatha. I never found out much about that statue other than it was worth barrels of money. At that time I was there investigating the whereabouts of a valuable ruby collar, also taken from Agatha's house, along with the statue. I'd been hired by Agatha's niece, Lily, to retrieve the collar, but Agatha never seemed too interested in getting the statue back on account of the lucrative insurance policy she had on it. Just how lucrative? The twenty-thousand-dollars kind of lucrative.

  The security dog at the gate remembered me from a previous case and gave me a polite nod as I strolled into the gated neighborhood, straight for Agatha's place. I knocked on the door. When Agatha opened it she seemed none too
surprised to see me.

  "Detective. I suppose you're here to ask me about the Grand Gobbler?"

  "Your powers of perception are bar none as usual, Miss Agatha." I humored her, but I already got the feeling that "other" parties had been here to see Agatha.

  "Well, you are the third person to ask me about the hunk of gold just this week and to be quite frank, considering how I'm just now finding out about how valuable the statue really is, and considering the fact that I owned it not too long ago, discussing the topic has soured my mood." She started to close the door, but I gently place my paw in front to stop it.

  "Miss Agatha, you may like to know why I'm here asking about the Grand Gobbler."

  "I shouldn't think I would, detective. Good day." She had closed the door almost all the way when I put my foot inside to stop it.

  "Miss, a cat was murdered last night. She made it as far as the hallway just in front of my apartment door, but someone got her. One clean strike to the head. Now, I don't think you're in any danger. At least right now. I think it would be in your best interest to answer a few questions for me and help me get to the bottom of it, wouldn't you say?"

  She loosened her grip on the door and looked down for a moment, her voice becoming much quieter. "Where are my manners? Come in, detective. We do need to talk."

  She invited me inside and I met another old acquaintance. It was her maid, the one who looked more like a bodyguard. She was a Doberman dame with a beautiful, but icy gaze. A gaze that would go straight to your heart, except it seemed like it would keep going, piercing your heart and leaving you dead. "Lady, would you be so kind as to take Mr. Trigger's coat and hat and prepare some tea?"

  Saying nothing, Lady nodded and did as she was asked as I followed Agatha to the living room where we sat at her table.