by M. A. Owens
This cat ended up getting off on a technicality, on account of one witness claiming they only saw one cat leave the shop. Maybe the other one left the shop later, maybe it was before, or maybe the witness just plain lied. Either way, his lawyers worked their magic, just like Mr. Scumbag here was about to work his on me.
As he was bringing his paw around to claw the uglier side of my face, I lunged forward, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. Unfortunately, other than the taste of unwashed feline I’d have to spend an hour washing out of my mouth, this didn’t buy me much. He tackled me into the wall as most of the air rapidly escaped my lungs. Yelling wouldn’t do me much good now. I jabbed my shock stick toward his ribs, hoping for a connection worth pressing the stun button for, before remembering the thing didn’t even work. He used the opportunity to grab my arm. This scrap was making a quick trip in the wrong direction.
He threw me to the side, and I fell over a metal trash can. Prompted by the racket, a voice carried over from the other side of the gate.
“What’s going on over there?”
Mr. Scumbag got distracted, turning to look in the voice’s direction. But once I finally got an opportunity to turn the tables, I’d dropped my shock stick and didn’t immediately see where it landed. Instead, I picked up the lid of the trash can and whacked him across the back of the head with it. He staggered forward, bracing himself against the wall opposite me.
At about that same time, a cat came into view from the other side of the gate. He was dressed in a security guard uniform and already had his club out. “Look, why don’t you go somewhere else to have your little spat. I’ve got a–” He squinted. “Wait just a minute! That you, detective?”
Mr. Scumbag tried to seize the opportunity to escape, turning and bolting toward the other end of the alley. But before he made it three steps, I had him tackled and we were struggling on the ground.
The security cat snapped out of his stupor, jerked the keys from his belt and made quick work of the gate lock before rushing through and piling on Mr. Scumbag. With both of us on him, the tomcat finally tuckered himself out. My newfound backup had a set of cuffs on him, which we used to secure our friend to a sturdy drainpipe bolted into the brick wall. I tried to talk to him while the guard ran to call the cops, but he didn’t offer so much as a peep.
It didn’t take long for the police to arrive. And wouldn’t you know it, the officer I tried to catch up with earlier was first on the scene. Turns out he had the day off and was helping his brother clean up his restaurant. The back entrance was in the alley. No fault of his, but that didn’t stop him from apologizing no less than twenty times and offering me a free meal. As he escorted Mr. Scumbag away, he reminded me to come by later to fill out a police report with Lieutenant Petey, who was top brass in Black District while the colonel's position remained vacant.
I cleared my throat and looked at the familiar security guard. “So, Robby… I guess I owe you one.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... This is a little awkward. Last time we saw each other I clocked you with a broom handle. What I want to know is why you didn’t press any charges. You had me by the whiskers. I already had priors. You could’ve sent me away for a long time.”
I tried to offer a serious response, but just chuckled. “Think I should have? Look, kid, I’ve had a lot worse than a broom handle to the noggin, especially since then. But I knew why you were spooked of badges coming around, or even a private eye like me. This city hasn’t always been so good to cats, and when it feels like everything and everyone is against you, before you know it everyone looks like an enemy. I just thought you deserved a second chance is all.”
He clenched his teeth and lowered his head. Great. The waterworks were coming, so I tried to change the subject. “By the way, how’s that gal you were with? Molly, right?”
“That day you and I met, after you recovered the jewelry she’d stolen from that rich dame from over—”
“Lily,” I corrected him, before I realized it.
“Sorry. Lily, from the Rose Garden Estates. She said she was leaving if we didn’t change our ways. She was tired of me losing my temper. She was tired of her own sticky paws. Tired of always looking over our shoulder for the cops or somebody we owed money to. It wasn’t easy. We slipped back into the life more than once. I’m not gonna lie to you and say I kept my nose all clean after that. But then Harvey opened up his foundation. Started all these projects. Rebuilding neighborhoods, helping create jobs, things like that.”
“Yeah, that Harvey, he’s a good kid. So, he hired you on as private security?”
“He sure did. Been working for him about a month now.”
“Well, I’ll have to let Harvey know you saved my hide today. Anyway, I’d best be heading down to the station to give my statement. Keep up the good work, Robby.” As I turned to head back down the alley, I heard his voice behind me.
“Say, detective... You’re really not sore at me?”
I sighed and turned to face him. “If I stayed sore at everybody that whacked me over the head or scratched my face at some point or another, I wouldn’t be able to think straight. It’s water under the bridge.”
“You mean that?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Now quit gabbing and get back to work, or I’ll rethink that whole ‘good word’ thing.”
He stood up straight, rigid as a statue, giving me a salute. “You got it, detective!”
I turned around and resumed walking down the alley, shaking my head as I went. At least something good came out of this lousy day.
3
Lulu, the young feline secretary with a bottomless pit of spirit, greeted me as I walked through the door of the Arc City Police Department HQ here in Black District. “Oh, heya Private T! Here to see the big boss himself?”
“Afraid so. I just can’t seem to stay out of trouble. Seems like the only three places I find myself these days are here, the hospital, and the bank. In that order. The bank being a distant third, and I’m taking out more than I’m putting in.”
Lulu erupted in laughter. “Sounds like you need a vacation. Write an autobiography, or–oh, oh! Write yourself one of those detective novels!”
I tilted my head. “About myself? About clients not showing up to appointments, getting beat up by cats in alleyways? Thanks, but no thanks. Not much point in writing something nobody’s going to read. Say… that reminds me, you remember that detective show on the radio a few years back? That German Shepherd… What was his name? Oh, that’s right, it was–”
Lulu slapped her desk with both paws. “Stone! Detective Stone! ‘Detective Stone always gets his cat,’” she mimed before looking down at her desk with a frown.
Yeah, guess that show was a little different from how I had remembered it. The city wasn’t a very “progressive” place when that show was produced. Cats didn’t have basic rights, and the crook in every episode was a cat, thus the catchphrase. Funny how you remember things differently sometimes. Your memory plays tricks and how you remember it can be a lot more romantic than how it actually was. “Yeah, Detective Stone is a little outdated. Maybe they should remake it with a cat as the lead.”
She looked up and quickly shook her head. “No no, you can’t change Detective Stone. That wouldn’t be right. Maybe Detective Stone could have a partner this time.”
I shot my paw up into the air. “Detective Lulu. The new detective dame on the scene, taking the city by storm.”
She reached down and grabbed a sheet of paper off her desk, wadding it into a tight ball and throwing it straight at me, but missing terribly. “Oh, Private T! You’re such a hoot! I’ll buzz Petey and let him know you’re here.” She pressed a button on the box in front of her. “Hey, boss dog. Got a minute to speak to your favorite private detective?”
A familiar greyhound’s voice came through the speaker. “Let me know if he comes by. In the meantime, I’ll make do with Trigger.” I could sti
ll hear him laughing when he let go of the button. Bunch of comedians around here. I tipped my hat to Lulu and made my way to Petey’s office.
A few months ago, I remember thinking to myself that Petey’s desk couldn’t possibly get any worse. But seeing it now, it’s clear I was wrong. When I first walked in, I didn’t even realize he was sitting there. Paperwork was haphazardly strewn into various stacks with some of them being knocked over and onto the floor.
“Hey pal, have yourself a seat.” He stood up and leaned over a stack of papers, peering down at the short Chihuahua that was me standing in front of him.
He grinned. “On second thought, let’s see if we can borrow one of the other offices.” He walked out of the office quickly, motioning for me to follow. He settled on a vacant room two doors down, and we walked inside, sitting across from one another at a nice clean desk. This wasn’t an office, and I recognized where we were right away.
It wasn’t just the desk in this room. In fact, the only things in the room were the two chairs we were sitting in and a table between us. Oh, and the big lamp hanging above us that felt like it belonged inside of an oven.
“Reduced to taking statements in the interrogation rooms now, Petey?”
Petey responded in the same manner he responded to just about everything, with an exaggerated shrug and an enormous grin on his face. “Well, believe it or not, Trigger, things are looking up around here. The number of new reports hitting my desk every day has slowed down quite a bit. Most of what you saw were older reports that I’m still playing catch-up on.”
“Say, didn’t you tell me a while back that the only reason you didn’t pin the colonel badge on yourself is because you didn’t want to be taken out of the field?”
“Yeah.” His grin weakened a bit. “Funny how things turn out.”
“So, how long has it been since you had the chance to work a case yourself?”
“Too long,” he said, the rest of his grin giving way to a bitter smile.
“So, why not just pin the badge on? Take the pay raise. Assume more authority.”
He chuckled. “Because once I put it on, Chief Patches will never let me take the blasted thing off. They may as well brand it on me with a hot iron. I’m surprised he hasn’t thought of that idea already and came all the way from Blue District ACPD headquarters to do it himself.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him. While we’re on the topic, it seems the chief respects you a lot if he’s willing to let you refuse it like that. Don’t think he let Buddy refuse to take the role in Adria.”
Petey shrugged. “He didn’t try. See, you and I have a bit of the same problem. We just can’t stop working cases, no matter what reward they dangle in front of us, or what punishment we’re threatened with. But we should get down to business. I’ve got about ten minutes before I need to report to the chief.”
“Right. I’ll make it short and sweet for you. Remember the two cat burglars that robbed a jewelry shop not too long ago? Well, this was the one who got off without so much as a slap on the wrist. After what they did, he didn’t deserve a second chance, but he got one anyway, and this is what he did with it. Follow me down an alley and try to do me in. A security guard saved my hide. Name’s Robby, someone else on the wrong side of the law that I’ve had a run in with in the past, only he made better use of his second chance.”
“Thought you were going to make it short and sweet?”
“Did I say that? Anyway, throw the book at this cat. Throw in everything you think will stick, and then maybe pin a few more things on him. He’s a danger to society, plus he’s late for a family reunion. His brother must get a little lonely behind bars.”
Petey finished some scribbling on a piece of paper and spun it around for me to sign, which I did. I didn’t even need to read it. Had the entire thing memorized by now, and not just because I used to be a cop. I think I saw just as many of them since going private. Probably more. We stood up and shook paws.
“So long, Petey.”
“You know, Trigger, why don’t you do me a favor and take a vacation? I can credit an enormous chunk of that paperwork to you. You’re getting yourself into too many close calls, and you’re working too hard. Take a week off. Take a day. Take a weekend. Take something. Anything.”
I put my paw on his shoulder and said, “Sure. After you.” We both laughed. Like that would ever happen.
4
I arrived back in my office that afternoon, and Zelda, my elderly German Shepherd secretary, greeted me as I walked through the door. “Did the meeting with the client go long, Mr. Trigger?”
I shook my head. “As usual, long story. Client never showed. Any calls for me?”
“No calls, but a snappily dressed pooch is here to see you. Been here about ten minutes. I told him I could schedule an appointment, but he said he would wait.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Zelda. Probably the pooch I was supposed to meet earlier, got mixed up on where and when to meet.”
When I entered my office, a tall golden retriever was sitting in the chair across from my desk. We exchanged nods, and I sat down. “So, having problems with your neighbor, are you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m afraid my problem is a bit larger than that, and I somehow doubt my neighbor is the one responsible.”
His suit wasn’t anything remarkable. It was a pleasant navy color, with no holes or tears, but with the general level of wear that placed several years on it. But it was the way he spoke that gave him away. His speech lacked our unique dialect, and he spoke a bit more slowly. The difference was subtle, but perceptible.
“You’re from Adria?”
He slowly nodded. “Very good, detective. Seems your reputation wasn’t exaggerated. What gave me away?”
“Nothing special. It’s just that you big shots from Adria have a distinct way of speaking that’s pretty easily recognized by us small timers here in Black District.” I shrugged my shoulders. “No offense.”
“None taken. And here I thought I was being careful.”
“The suit was an excellent choice. Doesn’t make it look like you’re trying to blend in, but doesn’t make you stand out either. You’re not strutting around like you own the place, making demands, so you get an A for effort. But you didn’t come here to have me inspect your disguise and discuss the classist issues facing society today.”
He shook his head. “No, I did not. In fact, I’m not even sure if this is the sort of case that would interest a dog like you, but I’m prepared to make it worth your while. My bank has been encountering some rather alarming issues as of late. Money being shifted across accounts, books not balancing, enormous sums of money altogether missing. That sort of thing.”
I laughed. “Sorry, sounds like you’re in the wrong building. You must be looking for the accountant down the street.”
“There’s no mistake, detective. Any accountant of repute will make a beeline for the police once he makes a discovery. You, on the other paw, are not only well-equipped to handle a variety of challenges, but your profession also demands discretion, and your reputation speaks well of you in this regard. Even if the case may seem unusual, I still must insist that you are the perfect dog for the job. We cannot involve the police, as I’m afraid a black stain upon the bank’s reputation could spell the end of my career.
“Although I am president of the largest bank in Adria, we are far from the only bank, and few these days want to associate with a bank known to the public for being involved in criminal activity. That just can’t happen, detective. So I need someone who is both skilled enough to solve this case and discrete enough to protect me should your search lead you to a… potentially criminal conclusion. Whatever you find, you’ll just have to trust me to handle the matter internally. As you may already know, when money is stolen from a bank, it is typically embezzled from within by an employee. We are most likely looking at nothing more than a clever manager, in a situation solved by simple firing. I suspect this is more serio
us than a simple imbalance of the books. There may be a lot of firings needed, but I need this to be handled quietly.”
I raised my paw dismissively. “Sounds boring.” And probably an insurance scam.
“I read the papers. You’ve been in there more than once. I’ve seen the bumps and bruises, and I’ve seen plenty about your frequent trips to hospital. Don’t you get enough excitement? Wouldn’t you like some easy money for a change?”
“Well, as you may already know, my Adria rate is double the rate I charge here, plus expenses.” My rates were already pretty high, and I intended to keep them that way. My ‘Adria Rate’ was high enough that I could afford to just work a few days a month and pay all the bills, but I knew a lot of these guys could afford it.
“Fifty dollars, correct? Fifty dollars a day, plus expenses.”
I had to admit, this was tempting. I hadn’t been back in Adria for a while. Ever since the Grand Gobbler incident. My reputation didn’t exactly suffer because of that case. Quite the contrary, in fact, but I rubbed some powerful people the wrong way. “I’ll think it over. Come back––”
“I’ll pay you double that rate if, and only if, you will sign a nondisclosure agreement when you take this case. I know you’ve signed them before. I understand they’re standard in your line of work. This is easy money, detective.”
Easy? Boring? What’s the difference? So maybe I can’t exactly take a vacation, but this could be the next best thing. Better, even. Normally, no danger meant no pay, but this was different. This was Adria. This was a big shot with a problem and more money than he could ever spend to throw at it. “Alright, you’ve hired yourself a private detective, Mister…”