by M. A. Owens
Petey shrugged, walking over and picking up my phone. Like me, he set the phone on speaker, putting his paw to his lips for me to keep quiet.
I made a zipping motion across my lips with my paw, hopped up from my chair, and motioned for him to take the seat. “ACPD, Colonel Buddy speaking.”
“Hey, pal, how’s your day been?”
“Hey, Petey. Not too bad. How’s the big vacation going? Say, Trigger’s not dragging you into trouble, is he?”
“Who, Trigger? He and trouble couldn’t be more opposite from one another.”
Laughter echoed through the room from the speaker. “We are talking about the same Trigger, right?” He paused for a moment. “Wait a minute, he’s in the room, isn’t he?”
I spoke up. “And they say you’re just a big brute without a single investigative bone in your body. They couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Hardy har, Trigger. Well, now that I know Trigger’s involved, what kind of risky, headache-inducing favor are you calling to ask me for?”
“Wow, I’d better hurry, because at this rate you’re going to guess before we can tell you,” Petey said, sounding almost serious. “I need a list of registered FLP members active in the Adria District.”
Buddy sighed. “I knew it would be something like that. Did you not hear the chief? I believe he made himself clear on the matter. Very clear.”
“There’s a difference between hearing what he said and understanding what he said.”
“Is there, Petey? Please, enlighten me on the hidden meaning behind the chief’s explicit instructions not to get involved in these political messes.”
“The chief ever offered anyone boxing tickets to a fight in Adria before? Those aren’t cheap.”
The line went silent for a long minute. “Alright, Petey, let’s say I buy that, and that’s a very hypothetical position, mind you. Assuming I buy that, how quick would you need a list like that? Never mind, stupid question. Fight’s Friday. Tomorrow is Thursday. You want that list sent over to the Black District tomorrow morning.”
“That’s right. In case you’re wondering why we don’t just pick it up there–”
“No, Petey, I wasn’t wondering that. I get that the cats in the FLP could be watching your every move over here. I know you can’t be seen picking it up. Don’t worry, I’ll have it over there first thing.”
“Thanks, pal. I knew I could count on you.
“Yeah, but I need you to do me a favor in return.”
“Fair enough, what is it?”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Buddy said, as he hung up the phone. I let out an enormous sigh of relief.
“So, meet here first thing in the morning after you pick up that list?” I said.
“It’s a date, but it’s your turn to bring breakfast this time.”
Great. Thankfully, the diner down the street would be open on my way here. I’d hate for this case to end with me burning my apartment down trying to boil water.
22
After stopping by Elly’s Diner to pick up a variety bag of biscuits, I headed straight for my office. After all the time I had to spend in line, Petey and Zelda both beat me there. It was nice to see Elly’s place doing so well, though.
“Morning, champ,” Petey said.
“Good morning. Breakfast is served. My cooking skills are on full display here. You get a bag of biscuits from Elly’s Diner.”
Zelda clapped. “Oh, I love Elly’s.”
“Me too. Plus, they were on the way.”
“My hero,” Petey said.
“Any sign of Brutus’s messenger?” I asked.
“I was here first, and Petey is the only one to come by so far,” Zelda said.
“Alright, what about you, Petey?” I asked.
“Yep, got it right here,” he said, holding up an envelope.
“Alright, grab yourself some biscuits and let’s head into my office. Zelda, would you mind getting us a pot of coffee going?”
“You bet,” she said, sounding a little more chipper than usual. I guess she did enjoy having company around the office. I guess I never thought about the fact that she might be lonely here. She lived alone in the first place and she never bothered me when I was in the office. Then again, maybe I was reading too much into it, same as everything else.
Petey and I stepped into my office and closed the door behind us.
“Alright, let’s have a look at that list. Let’s see if anything stands out,” I said.
“Hot off the press,” Petey said, as he opened the envelope and laid the pages out on my desk. “I’ll let you look at them first. These names don’t mean much to me.”
I nodded, sitting at my desk and scanning the documents one name at a time. After almost an hour, I pored over each one, looking for anything that stood out. In the end, I came up snake eyes.
In the time it had taken me to go through it, Petey and I had already chugged down two cups of Joe each. Petey spent most of the time walking back and forth between the lobby and my office, chitchatting with Zelda, refilling our coffee, and eating way too many biscuits.
“No luck?” he asked after seeing me lean back in my chair and rub my eye.
I shook my head. “Not as far as I can tell. This list may come in handy, but not right now.”
“That’s too bad.”
He’d only just gotten the words out of his mouth, when we heard the front door open in the main lobby. We both stepped out in a hurry, nearly tripping over each other.
A fairly well-dressed pug held his paw up in greeting. He started to speak, but doubled over to catch his breath before standing back up straight again, snorting in a frighteningly deep breath, and letting it out. “You must be Trigger. Sorry I’m late. I didn’t expect it to be quite this far. Never been here before. I got your list here from Brutus. Keep in mind that bets are still open until the moment the fights start, but most big bets are usually in by now. Brutus wants you to meet him outside before you meet the bookies. There’s a certain way these things work, and one is wise to observe the rules.”
“Say, you want to get yourself a biscuit and a coffee and have a seat for a minute?” I asked.
He sighed, visibly relieved. “I don’t mean to impose, but I certainly wouldn’t mind a bit of a rest before I make the trip back.”
I motioned for him to follow Petey and I back into my office. He sat down in the seat beside Petey. “So, how do you know Brutus?”
“I’m one of his theater managers. I’m told you used my office when you were working on a case for him, to interview employees at the theater about the reel swapping incident.”
I nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, by the way, if I made a bit of a mess of it. We had a scuffle in there.”
He laughed. “Oh, I heard all about that, detective. Brutus knocked the guy out. Every time he tells the story, it gets more and more impressive.”
I grinned. “I was there. It was, at the very least, impressive.”
“No doubt about that. You don’t become the champ by being a pushover.”
I spread the names on the list out on my desk and began looking over them. As if on cue, the pug stood up to leave.
“Thanks for bringing this by, Mister…”
“Cameron. Pleasure to meet you, detective. You too, sir.” He nodded to Petey.
He reached over and shook my paw.
“The pleasure’s mind, Cameron. This is Lieutenant Petey, ACPD here in the Black District.”
He offered his paw to Petey. “Good meeting you, officer. You two have yourselves a wonderful day. Thanks for the breakfast.”
After Cameron stepped out, Petey and I started looking over the names. It took a lot more time than the last list. Both because it was much, much longer, and because we had to keep comparing it to the other list to make sure we didn’t miss anyone. The disappointment in the room was palpable as we slogged our way through the last pages.
“Any matches, Petey?”
“Not a one. Looks like we're still running blind here.
You?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Not a doggone one.”
In my frustration, I grabbed a handful of papers and tossed them haphazardly across my desk. I rested my chin on my paw, trying not to let my temper get the better of me. There was a time when I would’ve stood up and flipped this desk over, but a combination of living and learning, and Petey’s presence, had me just seething in silence. He was doing the same.
After a few minutes, I took another glance over at the pages and set my paw on top of them to drag them over to me and put them back in the envelope. Just before I picked them up, something caught my eye. My eyes widened. I jerked the paper up from the stack and held it close to my face, making sure I wasn’t seeing things.
“What is it?” Petey asked.
“Well, I’ll be…”
“Hey Trigger, what is it? You’re killing me with the suspense here.”
I pointed at a name on the paper.
Petey read aloud. “Peach?”
“You bet your back teeth it is. Peach!”
Petey shrugged. “Help me out here. That name wasn’t on the FLP list. I would’ve seen it.”
“That’s because it wasn’t. Peach here is an executive at Herman’s bank.”
“A coincidence?” Petey asked, tilting his head.
“Is it? We both agreed that Sunny seemed a little too obvious. Her brother being a ranking member of the FLP and all. Too obvious? Now I’m thinking so.”
Petey smiled weakly. “Okay. It’s a long shot, but a long shot is better than no shot. Think you can ring up Brutus and check on the seating for the event?”
“Good thinking. She may not be attending, or maybe she’s attending with a partner we’ll be interested in. Let’s see if we can find the amount of the bet too.”
I immediately picked up the phone and dialed Brutus. He promised to get back to me in the next few minutes with the answer to both my questions, so I hung up and we waited.
For at least ten minutes we both sat there, without saying a word, staring at the phone. When it finally rang, I hit the speakerphone button. The first bit of information was the amount of the bet. Five hundred grand. More than Petey and I would probably make in our lifetimes, combined. Still, she was a bank executive. Not out of the question, and not necessarily suspicious. Next came the seating arrangements. To her left, a name I never heard before. To her right, a name that made Petey and I look at each other and smile from ear to ear. Seated to her right was a cat named Chancey. Bingo.
23
Now that Petey and I had a solid lead to work with, we were both psyched about the trip. It was finally go time. The grand finale. And even though no one knew it, he and I had more at stake in our fight than those boxers did in their championship bout. Petey wore… well, pretty much the same thing he always wore. I think he either had several pieces of the same clothing, or, knowing Petey, he just wore the same thing every day. Not that I was much different. By now, pretty much everyone recognized me by my tan trenchcoat and brown fedora. Though, unlike in Petey’s case, I had been to Adria District before. Many times, in fact. Plus, Saint’s goons would be looking for me. Maybe not as hard as they were looking a few days ago, since they probably think I’m home to stay, but they’ll still be keeping an eye out. A disguise to look completely different would be required to say the least.
Carson would return to Adria with his blue trenchcoat and wide-brimmed blue hat. Perfect for hiding the eyes of a one-eyed Chihuahua that stood out like a sore paw. So after… Marley and I coordinated and made our way to the Adria checkpoint, we finally put Harvey’s handiwork to the test. As expected, the meat-head security dogs at the gate didn’t bat an eye.
Petey was like a cat in a butcher shop, and I couldn’t blame him. I found it just as amazing the first time I came here. You go from the slums of the Black District to bumping shoulders with the high rollers of Adria, fancy buildings lining both sides of every street. It was a lot to take in. For a cynic like me, it only made things more depressing, but for an optimist like Petey, he was filled with pup-like bewilderment. I could only imagine that his mind was flooding with all the hope in the world to bring the Black District up to par, seeing inspiration everywhere. Sure, maybe one day we could fix it. Maybe we could even live to see it… if we found a way to make ourselves immortal, that is.
“Boy, this place sure is something, eh Carson?”
“Sure is. Go your entire life thinking the whole city must be slums as far as the eye can see, with dogs and cats dying in the gutter. The young mugging the old just to buy enough food to stay alive until the next opportunity to do it again. So much crime that the backlog is sky high. You think that’s all there is, and you step foot over here and you see what it could be, and you understand why they work so hard to keep dogs like us out of this district. To keep almost everyone out. It takes hard work to keep everyone in Black District so poor.”
Petey smiled, unfaltered by my somber tone. “You’re too negative, Mr. Carson. We can’t blame Adria for all our problems. Sure, they could probably invest in Black and help things along, but things being so bad at home isn’t their doing. If anything, being so closed off gives us plenty of opportunity to do right by our neighbors. And like I said, things are changing. Just look at what Harvey’s done to help the youth. The Second Chance Foundation didn’t even exist all that long ago. If we really had to blame an outside influence for the state of the Black District, I think it would make a lot more sense to blame Mr. B. Even though he had the entire city in the pad of his paw, he only used that power to step on the Black District. Instead, he just enriched the already rich Adria District. Many times over.”
“Ah, Mr. B… That name keeps coming up again. I’ll be honest with you here. Mr. B was from the Black District. He also accomplished more in the city than anyone ever had, and a lot of it wasn’t all bad. We have to understand that. Even as downright evil as Mr. B was, he did do some good. Imagine if when he made it to the top and he left all that crime business behind. Imagine that he remembered where he came from and gave a rat’s behind about it. Imagine what a cat like that could do if he was one of the good guys.” I shook my head.
“My friend, I once knew an old sergeant who used to say ‘wishes in one paw and arrest warrants in the other, and let’s see which one fills up first.’”
I cleared my throat at the sergeant comment, and his wincing told me he got the message.
I pointed to the map I was holding. “Well, Marley, here we are. Now we just need to find Brutus.”
“That him over there?” Petey pointed.
I raised a brow. “Yeah, that’s him. How’d you know?”
“You know, Mr. Carson, we do have newspapers over in the Black District.”
I pushed the map into his chest. “Lucky us.”
We walked over to Brutus, who was sitting on a bench slightly down the street. I waved as we approached. “Mr. Brutus. It’s good to see you again. I’m the one who called you about the special tickets. Mr. Carson. This here is my shadow for the next day or two, Mr. Marley. The agency has him on probation, so they wanted him to follow a more experienced investigator. To give him one more shot at cleaning his act up.”
Petey grinned sheepishly. It would be unusual for a dog to grin after being told he was on his final notice, but somehow I felt it was a very genuine Petey reaction.
Brutus stood up, and it surprised me to see that he was no longer the plus-sized pooch he was the last time I saw him. “Mr. Carson. Mr. Marley. I sat a ways down the street like this, because there were some things I wanted to discuss with the two of you in private. Given what’s at stake, I’m willing to help as much as I can. Fortunately for you, I can help a lot. Let’s just say the two of you will investigate some fraudulent activity a good friend of mine told me about just a few hours ago. I’d like for you to meet him, so he can explain it to you in person.”
Petey and I nodded at one another.
“Let’s not waste any time then. I want to make su
re we're completely up to speed by the time the fighting starts.”
“Follow me,” Brutus said, leading us around the back of the building. I hadn’t noticed the name above the door before; The Brute Center.
“Say,” I said as we were walking. “This building…”
“Mine.”
“Thought so. When I heard you got the taste for the boxing world again, I didn’t realize it went that far. Hope you don’t mind my saying, but you look pretty doggone impressive. I can hardly tell the difference between the Brutus in front of me right now in the Brutus on the picture box all those years ago.”
He laughed. “Why, thank you Mr. Carson. I bought this building from my old boxing manager and remodeled it. The old dog treated me like dirt when I was just a pup trying to make a name for myself. Pocketed most of my winnings, so I enjoyed buying him out. I’ve been training fighters here in the evenings and on the weekends. Several of my dogs and cats are titleholders now. Think you can keep a secret?”
“My lips are sealed,” I said, feeling myself getting winded just trying to keep up with him while walking down the long stairs to the basement. Maybe I need to hit the gym too.
“I thought about passing the reins of the theater over to one of my best managers. He’s a pug. Cameron. You met him. I’m finding that I missed this life a lot more than I thought I did.”
“Oh boy. Been a while since I’ve tuned in for a fight. Now I’ll have to get a better picture box.”
Petey grinned. “Maybe you can give me your old one when you do.”
I tilted my head. “You don’t have a picture box, Petey?”
“On my salary? Couldn’t get a very good one. Besides, never been all that interested anyways. Always been a radio dog myself.”
“So have I. I like the shows they have on the radio better than the ones they do on the picture box, live sporting events excluded, of course.”
When we finally reached the basement floor, there were several dogs sitting around tables, frantically writing, answering calls, hanging up calls, and the moment they hung up the phone would ring. It was strange. All the dogs working down here were Chihuahuas, like me. Brutus continued to take us down the hallway where he suddenly stopped and knocked on a door.