by M. A. Owens
"I do. Do you need it?"
"Not yet, but right now it's the only direct physical evidence we have that links to Bad Kitty. It may come in handy later."
He picked up a bagel off his desk and took a hearty bite. "You mind?"
"Nope. Gotta multi-task sometimes. I know how it goes."
He chewed quickly and wiped his mouth after swallowing enough to speak without covering me with little crumbs. "Buddy phoned me up and said he saw you over in Adria. You have any luck over there?"
"I didn't. Well, not exactly. Not yet."
He eyed me with amusement. "That bad, huh?"
"That bad I'm afraid. I found the one who sent the letter over there. He found out it was stolen and I wanted to see if I could find it for him. Real high-brow type." Petey nodded, taking another bite and signaling for me to continue. I obliged. "He had some kind of informant that tipped him off about the insurance claim, so he went to Agatha's house to ask questions. Only another dog must've had access to the same information. He arrived to find Agatha and this cat already in a meeting. He listened in and found out about me."
Petey swallowed quickly. "Think he's our killer?"
I shook my head. "That's the problem, Lieutenant. I think someone else realized how easily he could be made for it. They killed that cat and I think they intend to bring it down on Benjamin if anyone gets too close."
"Benjamin?"
"Yeah, the original owner was the first mayor of the city. Benjamin's his great-great-grandson. He sold off his great-great-grandfather's estate in blind auctions one crate at a time. The idiot sold the statue for next to nothing. Didn't even realize what he had, him being one of those silver spoon types. Probably never worked a day in his life. I know they can be violent criminals too, but you should see him. He couldn't kill an ant if he jumped on it with both feet. Walked around in a big expensive blue coat right through the middle of Black District."
Petey laughed, losing a little of his bagel before catching it in his paw and tossing it back into his mouth. "Point taken, Trigger. Want me to have him tailed?"
"I was about to suggest that. Here, let me see your notepad." I grabbed it and scribbled Benjamin's address down. "Have someone stick to him like glue. Two officers if you can spare them, in shifts around the clock. It's possible these guys'll get bold and try to get rid of him. He's also a competitor for the statue now. Wants it back."
"Any other leads on our perp?"
"In a way. I need to follow some hunches and see where it lands me. Could you run the background on a cat named Kerdy here in the district? Just whenever you got time. I don't need it right away."
"She connected?" He stuffed the rest of the bagel into his mouth.
"Could be. She authenticated the statue for the insurance company."
"Think she might've swiped it after the fact?"
I sighed, thinking of all the possibilities. "Could've swiped it herself. Could've sold the information to someone else. Could've authenticated a fake. Could've swapped the real one for a fake. Lieutenant, I'd complain about the work but looking at the stack of reports on your desk makes what I have to sort out look like pup's play."
He chuckled, this time without losing a single crumb. "Oh, come on now Trigger, it's not so bad. I've made some headway. Some of these reports are only a few months old."
I shook my head. "So long, Petey."
13
I picked up the busted buzz box as I was heading out the door to begin the next leg of my journey. Needless to say, I was getting my fair share of exercise today; this hunk of junk was a lot heavier than it looked.
After a lot of determination, and several breaks, I finally made it back to Kerdy's apartment. She still hadn't fixed the hole in the door. I tried to show some good manners and knock first, but there was no answer. I bent down and peered through the head-sized hole in the door and saw her pulling a contraption with her paws, extending her arm all the way forward and pulling it all the way back. It was basically a rope threaded through a hanging pulley, with a weight tied to the end. It was knotted on the other end so she could dig her claws in to hold it. Guess she liked to stay in shape.
She was counting quietly to herself. When she got the ten she let go of the weight and looked over to see me peering through the hole in the door.
"Stop standing there looking in, you fool. You look ridiculous," she said.
I stood up quickly and walked in. "The landlord made any mention of fixing that door for you?"
"I don't care about that door. Besides, that's my business, not yours." She pointed to the box. "Is that your radio?"
"Yeah... I mean, no. It's a buzz box that secretaries use to talk to someone in their office. Got switches and things like that."
"Well, don't just stand there gawking at me. Put it on the table then."
Kerdy was a real piece of work, but she had a kind of charm that was hard to place. It felt almost like the coarse and callous act was just that: an act. Only it wasn't. Not quite.
"Right, you're going to ask me what's wrong with it. I don't know. I only know that it doesn't work."
"I charge extra for 'it just doesn't work' jobs."
"Will you take a look at it?"
She said nothing and pulled the buzz box from the cardboard box I brought it in, slid the box to the side, and set it down on the table. I was a little stronger than the average Chihuahua, but this cat had some muscle. Especially for being on the older side of life. She trained, but why? Health? Or occupational hazard? On a hunch, I decided to explore the topic further.
"Say, you're fit for a cat your age."
She looked at me as though I was a whining pup who'd just asked her the same annoying question for the thirtieth time today.
"Just making conversation."
She sighed. "I don't like small talk. I don't like small talk or small dogs."
"You beat around the bush too much, Kerdy," I snapped back. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"
"Oh. Ha ha." It wasn't very convincing, or endearing, mock laughter, though it was obvious she didn't intend for it to be. "Have a seat and stick your nose in the paper or something. I should know in just a minute what I'm dealing with here."
I held the paper in front of me, but I didn't read it. I'd already read it front to back that morning. All I could think about was whether this cat could be Bad Kitty. It was certainly a suitable name. She's older than what I was expecting, but the dame did seem to be in better shape than me, someone a lot younger than herself. Still, if she'd gotten some kind of payoff or stolen the statue, why live in a dump like this? She could've been putting back the money. Or maybe someone threatened her? If she was in danger, why stay in a place with a door that could just be pushed open by a slight draft?
That was one of the problems with this case. Everything seemed to almost fit and then didn't. Nothing added up one hundred percent. Benjamin could almost be the killer. Kerdy could almost be Bad Kitty. Too many unanswered questions.
I kept staring blankly at the newspaper for several minutes when Kerdy finally spoke up. "Do you want it to work or do you want it fixed?"
I folded up the paper and tossed it onto the table. "What's the difference?"
"It's got a blown capacitor, but that's just the start. You've got two more that won't be far behind. And the switching mechanism is just about toast. You might get another few months or a year out of it at most."
"You're forgetting where we are, sister. Nothing's ever really fixed, but we make it work. Why should that box be any different?"
"Well said, little dog. I'll change the capacitor. It'll be five dollars for the repair, and five for the diagnosis."
"Sure. How long until it's done?"
"I got one of those capacitors here I can use. It'll take about ten minutes. You'll be able to take it with you when you leave."
"Whatever you say. I'm glad it can be fixed fast."
Without answering me, she stood up to fetch the capacitor. Until now, the tab
le had hidden the lower half of her body. When I was at the door earlier, I was too far away to see her legs. There was a long metal brace attached to her leg, by rods which protruded through either side of her flesh. The wounds were old and thoroughly scarred over. It made a loud clattering sound when she lifted her leg and touched her foot to the ground again. It was in this moment I realized I was looking at neither Bad Kitty nor the murderer. You couldn't sneak up on a rock with a leg like that. You'd be lucky to outrun one.
Having had experienced more than my fair share of questioning about my blind eye, I thought better of it to just outright ask what happened. However, having noticed my curious glances, she volunteered the information.
"Never seen a leg brace before, detective?" she asked.
"Several. Though, yours is a little different from the others I've seen. Whoever did it seems to be a real expert. It doesn't look like Black District quality."
"Keen on the details as ever, detective. You're right, it's not from the Black District."
"So, it's from Adria. Should've guessed."
She shook her head. "It isn't from Adria either." She paused, but just briefly. "It's from the outside."
Did she just say what I thought she said? Surely she didn't mean... "You're not talking about outside the city, are you?"
She nodded. "Yes, little detective, that's exactly what I mean. So, what now? You know what the punishment is for entering the city without an authorization, don't you?"
I knew the penalties well. For the city, it was a simple deportation. However, for the town it has long been rumored that the punishment for escaping to the city was severe. Execution kind of severe. Though, I wasn't sure how much of this to believe. I'd met no one from the outside. I knew no one else who had either. Maybe Rick had since he owned a business that got its salmon, milk, and strawberries from out there, but I never asked him about it. The city was surrounded by high walls with locked gates. You couldn't even see what it looked like beyond them.
"I'm a private detective, not a cop. I don't have any obligation to tell anyone anything," I said, looking her square in the eye.
I tapped my nails on the table. Curiosity got the better of me. "It's the neighboring city, town, or whatever... Was it really attacked by monsters?"
Kerdy just stared at me, astonished, before grinning as though she was feeling some pity toward me. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. I always suspected it was a stupid rumor, anyway.
Thoroughly embarrassed, I raised my paw, hoping to drop it. "Okay. All right, I get it. So there are no monsters."
Kerdy stopped grinning, her expression immediately becoming more serious. She looked down to the side, no longer making eye contact. "You misunderstand me, detective. I think it's funny that the city has been so successful in making sure everyone is oblivious to anything going on outside the walls. Your monsters..." She made over-the-top "monster" paw gestures, as if telling a ghost story to a puppy. "They're real. They never tire. They don't bleed. They have no blood and no bones. They feel no pain. They don't laugh. They don't cry. They have no concept of mercy." She stopped the gestures, taking on the troubled look again. "As for the former, we cannot match them. As for the latter... when it comes to having no mercy, that we can match them on. For now, I live in the city, in the so-called worst district. One of the worst neighborhoods in the worst district. Little detective, my most dangerous day here was safer than my safest day out there. Try watching your friends die in battle, and tell me again why I should worry about some burglar. You don't know how easy you've got it."
She turned around and stomped angrily toward her storage room. I knew better than to say anything else, now that she was good and riled up. How much of what she said was true? I would most likely never find out, as I had more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.
After some time she came back with the capacitor. She sat down at the table and made quick work of it, not speaking another word as long as I was there. She didn't seem upset. The contrary, actually. She seemed more calm and focused, as if that little bit of talking had lifted a small burden from her shoulders. Without another word from either of us, Kerdy completed her work on the buzz box. I handed her the ten, picked up my box, and went on my way.
14
After I dropped off the buzz box to a pleasantly surprised Lulu, I decided to take a detour to a payphone and make myself an appointment with Rick. I was warming up to his previous theory. Well... almost.
Between the long walk and carrying that blasted box, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I reached Rick's office. I walked in and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk.
"Good to see you, Rick. Found anything yet?" I asked.
He grinned, but shook his head. "No. Not yet, anyway. That could change very soon, though."
"What makes you say that?"
"I've generated enough buzz in the underground market that if your statue exists, I think we'll be seeing it or hearing about it soon. It's getting the right kind of attention," he replied.
I couldn't help but laugh a little. "That's funny. You know, the reason I came here today was because I'm warming up to your theory on the whole thing. That maybe the thing didn't really exist."
Rick tilted his head. "Oh? What brought you to that conclusion?"
"For starters, there's Mr. B. You made it your goal to keep things he wanted out of his paws as often as you could. How many times did Mr. B want something he didn't wind up getting? You'd think if the mayor's great-great-grandson had the statue he would've happily sold it to Mr. B. It would be the ultimate win-win for him. He'd make a lot of dough and make a friend of the most powerful cat in the city. It's that kind of friendship that would do wonders for your political career."
Rick nodded in agreement. "That would lead us to believe he didn't know where the statue was."
"Exactly. Benjamin--that's his real name--probably had no idea where the thing was. How do you accidentally throw a statue like that into a box with junk? You find something like that and no one else knows about it, you probably lift it and keep it for yourself. You don't just toss it into a box without incident."
Rick pointed at the desk with his paw as if at the imaginary statue. "In which case, Agatha would have never gotten her paws on it."
"Also, when Fernando told me about when he originally asked Benjamin about the statue, he didn't seem to know anything about it."
"So, is the favored theory now that it never existed?"
I shook my head. "Not quite. There's a couple of things that bother me about that theory." Rick motioned for me to continue. "I met the cat who authenticated it. Despite the tough act she puts on, my hunch is that she's living straight-laced now."
Rick flashed a big grin. "A fake tough guy act, but a big softy underneath. Now where have I seen that before?"
"Sure, sure. Anyway, she's also living in a dump. That might seem like a reason to take a bribe, but in her case I think that's actually what she wants. Doesn't seem like the type to take a payoff, though. Problem is, she also seems clever. She's especially good with tech. I think the situations where she saved the insurance company a lot of money probably involved tech. I could definitely see her picking up on counterfeits there. As for her knowledge of this sort of thing, a really well-made counterfeit might have slipped by her."
"So, a convincing counterfeit then? Likely made for the sole purpose of this scam. It fits, but that's a lot of trouble to go through for something that might not work. A counterfeit that could fool an insurance company couldn't have been cheap."
All of this speculation was really wearing me down.
I rubbed my forehead. "If we're lucky, someone has the fake and is waiting for the insurance to pay out before putting it on the market. They figure if it fooled everyone once, it can do it again. Hard to pass up two paychecks."
"That's right. Then we need to get the bird in our paws and give it a thorough inspection."
"If Kerdy missed it, how are you going identify
it? Is there a special technique you know will expose it as a fake?"
He shook his head, holding onto a sliver of the grin on his face.
"Not without really doing damage to it, no. That a problem for you, detective?" Rick asked.
"Not for me. How are you going to deal with Fernando? Surely he must be included."
"He watches the market too, so yes he'll have to be included. I think I can reason with him. After all, he's not going to want to purchase a fake. Better a damaged authentic piece than a perfect fake."
"He might disagree."
"He might not. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it," he said with a grin.
"Are you sure it's a bridge we'll be able to, uh, burn? I think Fernando may work for someone else. Letting you damage the statue might not be his call."
Rick relaxed back into his chair and tapped his chin with his paw. "That's entirely possible, but it doesn't really change anything on our end in terms of strategy. It may expose just how much authority he has on the matter."
"You're right. I only mention it because I want you to keep your head about you. We already know he had ties with Mr. B, which means he may be working with or for someone else. And he's already dangerous alone. Mr. B... Mr. Big got too big for his own good. It was only because everyone in the city knew him, and he had to watch his step. In these isolated situations like this, I worry just as much about the small timers with less to lose."
He laughed. "Is that some gray hair I see around your muzzle? You worry too much."
"What about Buddy? He been givin' you a hard time?"
He shook his head. "He had his guys watch the place for a short while. Had me looked into."
"And?"
Rick put his paws over his heart and gasped. "You wound me, detective. This business and my name are both squeaky clean, thank you very much. He did not, and could not, find a single thing. Regardless, he seems satisfied for the moment."