“Who killed him?”
“His former partner in crime, Chita. It was self-defense.”
“In spite of her lash-up with Imperius, I kind of like her.”
“So do we. She’s a big-time publisher of female’s magazines in London. Octavius thinks she’s a menace but even he is ambivalent about her. But he’s not ambivalent about the Phoxes and the Professor. He wants to put them out of business permanently. It’s very personal with him.”
“Well, tell him not to get too personal. OK, we’ll investigate. Talk to you again in a couple of days.”
Thanks, Honey. We’ll keep you posted.”
As I hung up the phone and got ready to report back to the Great Bear, the door swung open and a bouncing whirlwind bounded through, hopping up on the conference room table and then back up on one of the walls. No introductions needed. Chief Inspector Bruce Wallaroo had arrived.
“G’day all! Good to see you again. Hello Ocko!”
“Hello Bruce! Welcome! Come down off the table and join us.”
Bruce Wallaroo comes as close as any animal to being a perpetual motion machine. Octavius restrains him in a specially designed wheelchair whenever he is in the Bear’s laboratory. Otherwise, instruments, tools, devices, experiments would all exist in a state of constant peril. Frau Schuylkill must be restrained from braining him for wrecking the mansion’s furniture. I absolutely refuse to join him when he’s flying a helicopter. He and the chopper merge into an aerobatic nightmare guaranteed to send your stomach fleeing for calmer climes. Strangely, he has never had an accident. His passengers, on the other hand...
However, the manic marsupial is an absolutely brilliant detective with a long history of sensational solutions to major crimes. We work with him often even if it is a bit nerve wracking at times. By the way, the Cubs love him.
“Got our Muskox friend in your crosshairs, Ocko? Well, he’s a rotter and a rutter. Looking forward to cutting him down to size. He and his law firm have been papering the industrial landscape in Australia with their threatening letters. Understand he’s doing the same in a bunch of other countries. What’s their game? Does he honestly think any sensible souls are going to fall for his nonsense? Or is he just plain wacko?”
(As part of my service as Narrator, I will be translating Bruce’s Strine dialect to passable US English. Don’t thank me!)
“We don’t know, Bruce, but I intend to find out. We have the FBI checking them out as well. My crew here is trying to talk me out of confronting them, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit idly by and let him harass the entire technology community. I’ve told Wolford here to inform the law firm that I want to meet with them and their client. No explanation of why. Let them think they may have a patsy with a guilty conscience who is willing to negotiate although we made our position pretty clear in our response. Want to come along?”
Before Bruce could reply, I stuck my neck out and asked. “What are you going to do? Threaten him? That wouldn’t be too smart. Try to get him to admit he has no basis for his lawsuit? I doubt he’ll own up. Tell him the world is pushing back legally? That might get to the lawyers. By the way, if you’re thinking of getting physical, he’s almost as big as you are. I wouldn’t advise it.”
Octavius frowned and said, “I think I have sufficient persuasive power to get him to retreat.”
(You have no doubt surmised, dear reader, that my boss suffers from a surfeit of humility. Not!!)
* * *
Professor Hercules Ovibos
(The Muskox is a large, heavy creature weighing in at about 800 to 900 pounds and close to 8 feet in length. Only a bit smaller than Octavius Bear. Like him, they come from the Arctic and their bodies are covered with long thick hair that often reaches to the ground. They are powerful and use their horns and bulk to dominate other creatures. They normally travel in herds but are known to occasionally go solo.)
* * *
“Have we heard back from them, Wolford?”
“Not yet!”
“Well, let’s do a little preparation anyway. Frau Schuylkill, will you get the Ursa Minor ready for a trip to Detroit. The Flying Tigers are with Belinda in the Shetlands so it will be up to you and the Colonel to fly us up there.”
The Ursa Minor, the Bear’s latest aerial toy is a true wonder. Visualize a $25,000,000 AgustaWestland AW101 VVIP helicopter glistening in sparkling gold and white with the name Ursa Minor and the outline of the constellation painted along the fuselage. The North Star Polaris is highlighted. With a cruise speed of 157 mph, a range of 517 miles and a five-hour endurance rating, the Ursa Minor can make the 230-mile journey from Cincinnati to Detroit in about 90 minutes with ease and comfort. Octavius, in true gillionaire fashion, has furnished the interior with luxurious seats and fittings, an opulent galley and an array of navigation, computing, communication, performance and safety equipment that is state-of-the-art plus. Universal Ursine Industries had seen to that. Ursula also has a link to it.
While this airborne limousine only requires one pilot, the usual protocol is to have two individuals at the joysticks unless it’s the Bearoness, a highly accomplished aviator, who wants the collective and cyclic controls all to herself. Hey, she has part ownership along with all the other aircraft and can do what she wants.
“OK, now who is going? The wolves will pilot the chopper and accompany us at the meeting. Wolford will be our legal representative. Maury will be along with me. Howard, valuable as you might be, I don’t want the Professor to know you exist. Same for you, Condo. I don’t want to reveal my telecommunications secret weapon. Otto, your disappearing act may come in handy. You come along. Let’s see. That’s six of us. Bruce, are you coming to represent the international community?”
“I didn’t fly all the way up here to look at your ugly face, Ocko. I want this Muskox to know he’s heading for a mess of global trouble.”
“Fine. That makes seven. A nice number. If we count Ursula, that’s eight. Now for our strategy. I think we need to play the lawyer card. Divide and conquer. Ovibos is probably too much of a fanatic to give in but the law firm may be a different story. They’re lowlife opportunists but I think they’re smart enough to recognize when they’ve bitten off too much. If we can convince them they are in for some solid retaliation, I think they’ll cave. They have more to lose and they probably have at least one weak sister among the partners. What do you think, Wolford?”
“I’m not sure but I can’t think of a better approach. We’ve already set the stage with our letter response and the Chief Inspector here adds weight to our side. Can we get the FBI to make an appearance?”
“Good idea, Counselor. What do you think, Maury? Can we get Special Agent Badger to join us?”
“If she’s available, I think she’ll come. She may also have some input from her investigation. That will make nine of us. I’ll call her when we have a date and time.”
“All right! Let’s get ready for a short trip and some dramatics!”
Chapter Four
As the time for our meeting draws near
Our grand strategy still isn’t clear.
When these two parties meet
There will be lots of heat.
Stormy weather that’s turning severe!
Early next morning, my phone chimed as I was munching on one of Frau Schuylkill’s delightful breakfasts. (She’s a Cordon Bleu Chef in addition to everything else.) Wolford! The Phox firm was rather dubious about our visit but finally agreed to meet us at 3:30 this afternoon in their Detroit offices. The partners would be there. The Professor would be there under protest. This will not be a Kumbaya event.
I got on the horn to all the members of our expedition and alerted them to be ready for a noon departure. The Frau got clearance from the FAA and the General Aviation Terminal at Detroit Metropolitan Airport - DTW. I also had the Colonel arr
ange for ground transportation from DTW Airport to the law firm’s offices. We needed a medium size open bed truck for Octavius and a large van for the rest of us.
I also discovered that the Bearoness, Cubs, Mlle Woof and the Flying Tigers were on their way over from the Shetlands for a routine visit. She would be arriving in her SST just about the time we would be departing for Motown. We should be back late this evening, by which time the Cubs will have reopened their love affair with Ursula and turned the Bear’s Lair into a supersized playground.
The team going to Detroit met around 11 am for a final strategy session. Wolford would take the lead, lawyer to lawyer, and propose a mutual stand-down on the part of both parties. It was up to the Phox firm as to how they wanted to deal with their other “opponents” although Bruce was quite adamant that he would not stand for any intimidation on their part. We needed to deal with these issues serially. We also did not know what FBI Special Agent Honey Badger would bring to the party. The Professor was an unknown quantity. He clearly had a personal loathing for Octavius and could easily go off the deep end. We also feared the Great Bear might succumb to retaliation even though he is a paragon of rational calm at the moment. Our Motto: Stay Loose.
* * *
* * *
Off to Detroit. (We missed the Bearoness’ arrival.) Octavius, as usual, takes his place in the spacious aft compartment of the Ursa Minor and almost immediately falls asleep. We never know whether it’s his narcolepsy or the motion of the helicopter. The two wolves were in the cockpit and the five of us were stretched out in the main cabin on luxurious seats. Wonder of wonders, Bruce was actually sitting still. Otto was staring out the oversized window and Wolford, Ursula and I were passing texts and files back and forth. We had accumulated a substantial history of the Phox firm and we were shaking our heads in amazement at the chutzpah demonstrated by this bunch. It’s a miracle they haven’t been disbarred.
Ursula, the AI system, had come up with more data on the Professor. His academic and research credentials had a certain odor about them and it wasn’t musk. Most, if not all, of his technical claims were unsubstantiated. He had been expelled from two associations based primarily on his confrontational behavior. Three of his “research” papers had to be recalled by the publishers. I really wondered why we were bothering with them at all but Octavius was not to be appeased. He and UUI had been defamed and insulted (albeit by a certified Suit Case) and an apology and withdrawal of accusations had to be made. So much for staying loose.
The Frau’s Switzerdeutsch accent growled over the cabin speakers. “We are fifteen minutes to touchdown. We are landing at the DTW General Aviation Terminal. We have arranged to have our ground transportation meet us there. You will have time for a late lunch if you haven’t had enough snacks and can stand airport food. The law firm’s offices are in the Renaissance Center downtown next to the river. It’s a 30 minute drive from the airport. Our appointment is for 3:30. The RenCen can be a confusing complex so I recommend we give ourselves a little extra time.”
The consensus was to forget about a late lunch and pig out on the remaining snacks. Octavius was still asleep so I doubt if he heard any of the Frau’s monologue. We’ll bring him up to speed when we land. Wolford and I will also share our findings with the group once we are on the ground.
The Ursa Minor is an ultra-stable aircraft and, in spite of its oversize engines and huge rotors, the cabins, front and rear, are extremely quiet. In short, a great vehicle for short to medium range hops and Kodiak Bear naps. Two thumps and we were down.
Once the Wolves secured the helicopter, we moved to the General Aviation Passenger Lounge. Wolford and I brought the assembled parties up to speed on our findings and went through a short rundown on how we should approach the opposing parties. Wolford would do the introductions and he would reiterate our letter of response. My personal opinion: Given the volatile personalities of the Professor and Octavius, formalities and controlled behavior would probably disappear before we got through the introductions. We probably should have taken our seat belts with us from the Ursa Minor.
I called Special Agent Badger to see if she would be attending our mid-afternoon party. She had arranged with the Phox firm to join the meeting via Skype. She had also called ahead and wanted some time on the line with Chief Inspector Wallaroo. They arranged to talk together at 3 PM.
The SUV and flat-bed were waiting for us outside the terminal. The Colonel took over the truck. Otto was in the front seat and Octavius was in the rear out in the open (here’s hoping it didn’t rain!) They headed out on the service road. The Frau took the wheel of the SUV and the four of us followed the truck. Bruce was once again subdued. Surprise, surprise! Was he getting old?
Somewhere along the way to the Renaissance Center the two vehicles got separated. One of us took a wrong turn. It’s not easy to miss a cluster of seven skyscrapers centered around a seventy-three-story tower - the Marriott Hotel - but it isn’t easy to find the right entrance roadway. We were looking for the thirty-nine story Northwest Tower 200. After parking the SUV, we went off following a myriad of lighted direction signs until we arrived at a large bank of elevators. Now where the hell was Octavius?
It’s also not easy to miss a nine foot Kodiak, especially one who is rumbling angrily about Detroit traffic and drivers. Thumping around a curved passage, the Great Bear led the Otter and Wolf up to our waiting group, muttering under his breath about these damn lawyers and their idiotic client. The outlook wasn’t joyous.
Bruce was already on the phone with the Badger. It seemed that they had both arrived at the same conclusion: Attempted Extortion, but they were trying to sync up how they would secure enough evidence to make it stick. One cease and desist order was a bit slim. They wanted the lawyers to trip over their own cleverness and the Professor to blurt out his real intentions. Let’s hope Octavius, none too subtle at this point, didn’t screw it up.
Up we went in the elevators. The Bear needed one for himself. We followed. On floor 27, we stepped directly into a walnut clad reception area with the partnership name emblazoned in a three-dimensional gold logo on the opposite wall. Couches and upholstered seats. An attractive red fox looked up from her computer, smiled and said, “Good afternoon, Lady and Gentlebeasts. Are you the Doctor Octavius Bear party?”
Since she was staring wide-eyed at the nine-foot, fourteen hundred pound ursine standing erect before her desk, the answer to her question was self-evident.
Before the Bear could respond, Wolford stepped forward. “Good afternoon. I am Wolford Wolverine Esquire, representing the interests of Doctor Octavius Bear and Universal Ursine Industries. We are here to meet with the partners of this firm and their client, Professor Hercules Ovibos. Are they available?”
Still staring at Octavius, she stuttered a bit and pointing to a large double door, said, “If you will follow me into our client conference room, I will tell the Partners and Professor that you are here.”
More walnut, eighteen rotating leather armchairs, large boat shaped table and sideboard with carafes, subdued lighting, whiteboard wall, computer projection system. In short, a professional set designer’s concept of a high-end boardroom with one major omission. There was no place for the Bear to sit except on the floor. Not pleased with that. He stood fully erect. Instant authority! Not going to be intimidated by these shysters.
The rest of us took up our positions on one side of the table. Wolford stood next to Octavius, ready to do introductions. Resisting the urge, no doubt, to leap around the room or climb the table, Bruce Wallaroo bounced into a rotating chair, swinging it back and forth several times. The wolves sat next to each other as did Otto and I, both of us sinking into the furniture.
A wide door opened and the receptionist along with three large dogs wheeled two couches into the room - one for Octavius and one, no doubt, for the almost as large Muskox when he arrived.
Speaking of
whom, a motley procession of well-dressed animals trailed in behind the mobile furniture and began taking up seats opposite us. The Professor shambled over to one of the couches and sat glaring at the now recumbent Octavius. Glares were returned.
A smarmy looking weasel stood at the head of the table and said “Good afternoon, I am Phileas Phox, Senior Partner and Managing Director of Phox, Fox and Foxx LLC. Allow me to introduce my partners, Ms. Felicity Fox and Mr. Farrington Foxx. Several other members of our staff are here to assist as necessary.” He waved in the direction of several subordinates who I guess were to remain otherwise unidentified.
Are you ready for this? Phileas Phox is a weasel, (literally) Felicity Fox is a ferret and Farrington Foxx is a skunk (again, literally.) In fact, the receptionist seems to be the only member of the crew who is a fox. Well, if the firm has nothing else, it has diversity (and misleading names.)
“I’m sure our client requires no introduction.” (But he was going to get one, anyway.) Professor Hercules Ovibos is famous the world over for his outstanding work in sub-atomic application development. (Snort from Octavius!) That is why we are so pleased to represent him in these lawsuits that seek to provide him with intellectual property protection and the damages compensation he so justly deserves.” Before Octavius could snort again or worse, Wolford smoothly intervened. “Thank you, Counselor. I am Wolford Wolverine, Esq. representing Universal Ursine Industries and more specifically Doctor Octavius Bear, sole owner and Chief Executive Officer of UUI. I am accompanied today by Doctor Bear and Chief Inspector Bruce Wallaroo of the Australian National Police. (Intake of breath among the Phoxes.) Shortly, I also expect Special Agent Honey Badger of the Detroit office of the FBI to join us via Skype if you have made the connections we have requested. (More intake of breath and an affirmative nod from one of the nameless Phox associates.) Thank you! I’ll take one moment more to introduce the other members of our team and then we can begin our discussions.”
The Suit Case Page 3