Detective Trigger: Books 1-6

by M. A. Owens

  She shook her head. “If he’s as great as you say he is, and you think he can help us find Saul, I couldn’t care less. Tell him everything.”

  “Great… well, they’re from the outside, Rick. And by outside, I mean the city. One of them smuggled in a powerful weapon and attacked Harvey with it.”

  Rick furrowed his brow. “Sure, I’ve met some cats in the agricultural village. I buy fish and fruit from them. But ever since the surge of immigration we had when so many cats flooded the city all those years ago, we’ve not even had so much as a visit since then. So, it’s not just Kerdy here, it’s this Saul character too?”

  I nodded. “Right. You can imagine, with their advanced technology, that having one of their soldiers run amok in the city would be such a bad thing. Kerdy is here hunting Saul, to bring him, and his weapon back.”

  “It’s not his weapon,” Kerdy corrected. “No… sorry, that’s irrelevant.”

  Rick clasped his paws together and propped his elbows on his desk with a loud sigh. “When I was there, the pinnacle of their technology seemed to be shovels and rakes. I enjoyed the difference in scenery from the stuffy buildings of the city, but I saw nothing that would make me think ‘advanced society’ there at all.”

  “That village was set up specifically for dealings with the city. We needed a way to meet with some of you, and make sure the city had all the supplies it needed to survive, in exchange for things we didn’t even need. Do you think this city would still exist without the food we provide? That village is just a ruse designed to prevent a shock to you. Imagine if we rolled up in advanced transportation and brought you into an advanced facility to trade. Do you think you could go home with the same perspective? We’d be flooded with dogs and cats wanting to join us, not understanding why so many left in the first place.”

  Rick tilted his head. “And, why did so many leave in the first place?”

  “That’s…” Kerdy started but held her words back. “I don’t want to delve endlessly into history with more pressing matters at paw. There was a war, and there were too many to keep safe, so we sent many of our kittens to the city.”

  “And you didn’t intervene when the city treated them like second-class citizens?”

  “It is against our rules, which is why we took our children who wouldn’t remember, entrusting them to only a few adults who could keep our secrets,” she said.

  “That didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you intervene and stop their poor treatment?”

  Kerdy rubbed her forehead. “You only know what they escaped to. You don’t understand what they escaped from. This city was still a kindness to them, and we were confident that the city would progress and deal with this problem on it’s on. Which, it has.”

  “Had,” I said. “Some cats know how to hold grudges and are looking to settle the score. The wounds are still fresh. I can’t say I blame them. I’ve been known to hold a grudge myself.”

  “Like Saint. Like Saul,” Rick said. “If you’d walked into my office, I wouldn’t have trusted you, Kerdy. Your story is too hard to swallow. But… Trigger trusts you, and I trust him. I will trust you. However, the two of you are going about this the wrong way.”

  Silence for a moment. Were we?

  “I can promise you, I’m going about this exactly the way I intend to. It’s a simple matter for me. I’m here to retrieve Saul and the weapon he stole and bring him back to our people to face justice. Your city’s affairs are your problem. I won’t get involved.”

  Rick grinned. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re already involved. Besides, didn’t you say you hired Trigger to track this cat down for you? If it’s his problem, it’s your problem. Saint and Saul are one and the same, especially considering it was your weapon that nearly killed Harvey.”

  Kerdy’s eyes widened. “Clever. With only a few scrap details, you put that together. I see that I’ve underestimated the dogs here yet again, at least where the detective’s friends are concerned. I will hear your advice.”

  Wow. Was this the same Kerdy? It was probably more of a testament to Rick’s charisma than Kerdy’s open mind, if we’re being honest.

  “Thank you. Saint isn’t the one you need to be going after now, Trigger. Had you ever even heard of Saint until recently?”

  “No,” I replied. “What’s your point? I really have a hard time believing he isn’t exactly the one we should go after.”

  Rick shook his head. “Saint is being elevated beyond anything that should ever happen naturally, and far more than even that pile of bank cash could take him. He has a backer here, and they must be in Adria. We need to know who that is, or we’re going to fail again. This was our mistake last time. We assumed he only had one major stream of funding, and we assumed we knew where it came from. We were wrong, and it cost us everything. It made him even more powerful. If we make another mistake going after him, it will probably be our last. Our opportunities dwindle as his power increases. I waited years for a chance at Mr. B, and we only took him out because we caught him by complete surprise. We’ve already lost that chance with Saint. We’re close to the point of no return. We have to deal him a crippling blow this time.”

  I leaned back in my chair, a sick feeling hitting my stomach. I really hadn’t accepted how serious this was and hearing him explain it was basically force-feeding that truth to me. Mr. B really was in a unique situation. By the time he realized what we were doing, it was almost too late. When he finally tried to have me killed, I got lucky. Saint knows I’m hard to kill, so he’s taking an even more effective approach that even Mr. B wouldn’t stoop to. Hurting my friends.

  “But how do we find out something like that? There are probably less than a dozen in the whole city who could know who it is, and that’s being generous. The only two we can be sure knows it, is Saint and his backer.”

  “The broker will know. I can take us to him,” Kerdy said.

  Rick grinned, tapping his chin. “You’re telling me you know the broker? For someone who insists on not getting involved here, you seem to be pretty deeply involved already. I’ve only ever met with the broker through proxy, like basically everyone else. I doubt even Saint knows his identity. What are you going to offer him?”

  “He owed me a personal debt, but that’s already been repaid. I don’t know what I can offer him. I could offer him some of my people’s history, something completely unknown to anyone in the city,” she said.

  Rick shook his head. “Won’t work. He only wants information that can be traded inside the city for equal or greater secrets. It’s how he stays so powerful here. He has dirt on everyone and is always accumulating better and better dirt to trade up to what he doesn’t already have. What we’re asking for is a secret that could take down someone who is well on his way to becoming the most powerful cat in the city. Do either of you have something of equal value to trade?”

  I didn’t, and neither did Kerdy. Kerdy knew things beyond what any of us would ever know, but Rick was right. None of it would be valuable to the information broker. He wanted to know about secret relationships, business dealings, alliances, and… secret identities.

  Rick had been watching my face closely. “Have you figured it out yet, Trigger?”

  “No,” I said, with ice in my voice.

  “No, you haven’t figured it out or no—”

  “You heard me,” I said. “We’ll find another way.”

  “There’s a secret that only you know. The true identity of the most infamous master thief in the city, who never failed a heist, and never got caught, not even once. He stole everything of value Mr. B desired. Saint thinks about this often, I’m certain. If you’re the broker, consider what that information would mean. He could hedge his bets completely. It’s one of the few secrets that would make him part with Saint’s backer, because Saint himself would pay dearly for it. The broker could demand a high price from him, securing his foothold in Saint’s new Arc City. If the information leads to Saint being taken down, it won�
�t make any difference to him.”

  “There’s always another way, Rick.”

  He shook his head. “Sometimes there isn’t, Trigger.”

  We looked each other in the eye, and I knew I wouldn’t win this one, no matter how badly I wanted to. Rick was determined, and even more… he was right. Once again it was Rick who would sacrifice everything to save the city, while everyone else got the credit. He was a legend in this city, and no one even knew it.

  “Alright…” I said.

  I looked over to find Kerdy’s expression to be one of sympathy. She’d figured it out by now, too. I guess our conversation made it obvious.

  “With your word I can arrange a meeting, but we must be careful. His previous debt to me has been repaid, and he won’t be happy that you’re there, at least until he hears what you have to offer him.”

  “Well, that’ll make two of us.” I turned back to Rick. His smile and nod only made this feel more rotten.

  He got up, grabbed his cane, walking over to his safe in the back of the room and retrieving a small box, long and narrow. “The broker will request proof of such a big claim. This is purely sentimental. It wouldn’t mean anything to most, but it will to him. Good luck, Trigger. Oh, and one more thing: Trust your friends.”

  I looked back to Kerdy, hesitating for a moment longer.

  “Arrange the meeting,” I said.

  10

  It felt strange taking back alleys everywhere I went. I didn’t know them at all, but Kerdy seemed to know them well, especially for someone that doesn’t even live here.

  “So, how do you arrange a meeting with an ominous figure like the broker? Leave a note in a storm drain on the sixth hour of the thirteenth night of the month, under a new moon… after the twelfth raindrop falls from the night sky?” I asked, preparing myself for Kerdy’s sharp reply.

  Kerdy glared, but then stopped and tapped her chin. “You know, why bother with all the formality? Let’s just show up where he works. He’ll really love that.”

  “Wait, are you serious? Where does he work?”

  “Let’s keep walking. Let’s see if you can guess,” she said.

  We kept walking for quite a while, and I wracked my brain thinking of all the professions an urban legend like the information broker might have, knowing that even by thinking of it I could probably disqualify it as a proper guess. At least, based on what Kerdy said.

  “I always just assumed he’d be in some underground den that was always foggy, surrounded by beautiful dames and Pit Bulls with muscles on their muscles. Then again… I guess I thought the same thing about Mr. B. He was always right under everyone’s nose until he got too big to keep doing things in person. Then, he got smart and started sending someone else to conduct even the most trivial business on his behalf. No one even saw him, and by the time they figured out where he was, he had already long moved somewhere else. Out of paranoia, I imagine, because it’s not like anyone could touch him.”

  “Oh, really now?” Kerdy asked, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

  “Without the element of surprise, and a lot of good luck, he’d still be running the city to this day. He just ran out of lives, I guess. By the way, where did that expression come from, about cats having nine lives?”

  Kerdy only sighed and kept walking.

  “Right… back to the guessing. Rick, being who he is, has the benefit of a disguise. The broker doesn’t sound much different. Rick wanted to benefit from being in the inner circle of the upper class but appearing disinterested in that life. He knew about all the big business deals, and what the big shots were trying to do to impress Mr. B, gifts they’d given him, and so forth. If I were an information broker, I think I’d work… at the Arc Daily.”

  Kerdy halted, causing me to walk into her back, sending us both stumbling a few steps forward. She turned around and glared at me coldly.

  “Say that again,” she said, her eyes wide.

  I glared right back. “Oh, come on. I know the guess wasn’t that stupid.”

  “Say it again,” she insisted.

  “The… Arc Daily?” I repeated, tilting my head.

  She burst out laughing, which was almost frightening coming from Kerdy.

  “Unbelievable. I’ve thought all along that you were some kind of lucky moron that had a knack for stumbling into situations you clearly didn’t belong in, but maybe you’re not a complete idiot after all. I’m impressed,” she said.

  I furrowed my brow. “Wow, thanks. That must be the what… third compliment you’ve given someone in your entire life. Keep practicing, and one day they might even sound genuine.”

  “That’s because it was more of an observation than a compliment.”

  “So, the broker really works at the Arc Daily, and we’re just going to… show up and start talking to them?”

  “Do you really think this dog got to be who he is if he can’t handle a surprise or two turning up on his doorstep?” she asked.

  I shrugged and motioned for us to continue walking. Him being able to handle it wasn’t my concern. It was how he handled it. We were talking about a dog who rubbed shoulders with the most dangerous the city had to offer and was enough of a threat to all of them that they let him live. A dog like this could call favors from anywhere and blackmail half the residents of Adria. Would he take kindly to us barging in on his alter-ego and throwing questions at him? There was no way to know for sure, but one thing I knew without any doubt: Kerdy couldn’t care less.

  Arriving at the building for the Arc Daily, I suddenly realized that I’d never been inside the thing. Probably because I hated it with a burning passion. This was the home of Mr. B’s former top propaganda team, whether or not they’d admit it. They printed whatever garbage he asked them to print, with smiles on their faces, and no doubt cash in their pockets. They sent their “journalists” around to intimidate, smear, and spin anything his detractors had to say. I’d heard he bailed the paper out when they were in trouble, about to go under, and rebuilt them into a successful business. Yeah, and who says crime doesn’t pay? Especially when that crime is technically legal.

  The building itself was as unimposing as it needed to be. There was nothing that shouted to me that these were the makers of kings, or crime lords. It was humble, unpainted stone, with many windows to see inside lining each floor. There were only about five, which because of how the building was strategically positioned, made it look even more humble, positioned between two much larger office buildings. A welcoming sign hung above the main entrance, absent of neon, written in all black lettering: Arc Daily Tribune.

  We stepped inside, and I almost felt like I was back home in Black District. All the beaming glass, gold, and marble that typically adorned the interior or every noteworthy building in Adria was notably absent here. Wooden tables and chairs in the green-carpeted lobby were well beyond their replacement date, their once lacquered finish scuffed and worn down to the bare wood in many places. The carpet was in decent shape, but had begun unraveling in many places, and had formed several humps throughout the surface, typical of old carpet.

  Then another realization hit me, hard. There was no fleet of security guards here. One older gray cat smiled and nodded at us from the door in his security uniform. But that was all. No demands to ask who we were, or who we needed to see. In fact, aside from the receptionist standing at the wide desk at the very center, no one had even looked up. Several dogs and cats were taking breaks and reviewing notes in the sun-filled lobby, and none paid us any mind, despite how out-of-place we had to look. With all the stories they’d printed about me, in particular, I half expected them to throw a microphone in my face and start asking questions the moment I set foot inside.

  Suddenly, I realized. This wasn’t modesty or humility. This was a statement of boldness in its rawest form. If you are an enemy of this paper, you’re no threat. They don’t fear your attacks or your critiques of their facility. They’re untouchable, and this is how they remind everyone that they are
fearless. They wear no armor and dare anyone to attack. Of course, no one does. Not the police. Not the politicians. Not the criminal overlords. Everyone needs the paper to be someone in this city, and they knew it. To think Mr. B controlled it all. That cat really knew what he was doing.

  An elbow jab from Kerdy jarred me from my observations.

  “This isn’t a museum, Trigger. Are you almost finished mentally recording every inch of the place?”

  “You could tell, huh? Yeah, I suppose I’m finished. This is an interesting place, is all. A lot different from what I expected.”

  Kerdy ignored my comment, walking to the front desk.

  “We’re here to see Max.”

  The receptionist, a young black and white feline dame with round glasses, tilted her head with a reserved smile.

  “That slacker is where he always is. Last office in the rookie section of the first floor. Take the stairs to my left, and go all the way to the right, then take a left. His office is all the way in the back. I’ll page him to let him know you’re coming.”

  Slacker in the rookie section? You didn’t need to be an experienced detective to know that something wasn’t right. I could think of a couple of possibilities, but it was always better to learn things by seeing them for yourself if that was an option, and I was seconds from meeting him.

  We went up the stairs and it only just now occurred to me that the place didn’t even have elevators. Honest-to-goodness stairs, and no other way to go up a floor. There was no such thing as a working elevator in Black District, this was another first for my experience in the Adria District.

  At the end of the hall, Kerdy knocked on the open door, as a young Boxer sat in a torn leather chair at an old desk, reading over a stack of documents.

  He looked up, and the moment I’d been waiting for was a huge letdown. Not only did he not seem upset to see Kerdy or myself, he didn’t even seem surprised.

  “Kerdy, Trigger, it’s so good of you to stop by. Please, have a seat,” he said in a cheerful voice, pointing to the two simple chairs in front of him.