by M. A. Owens
You could hear music playing the moment you walked in; it was coming out of the various establishments that lined the streets near the gate. Everybody looked loaded. Seemed to be having a great time while stumbling out of these places. It became a calmer, more serious place as I got farther away from the gate. The party joints gave way to clothing stores, radio shops, jewelry stores, and more. After stopping several times to ask for directions, I finally made my way to the Starlight Theater to see Brutus.
This place really looked like it belonged. It was at least ten times bigger than the biggest movie theater we had back home. A big Rottweiler greeted me at the door and told me that Brutus was expecting me. When I stepped inside, an expansive purple carpet greeted me. There wasn't a stain to be seen. All the furniture looked to be made of hardwood with a beautiful lacquer finish, and every print painstakingly wiped away. Along the top of all the counters was gold trimming, which I suspected wasn’t imitation. Once we made it into Brutus’s office, he appeared to be in much better spirits than he was the last time I saw him.
“Mr. Trigger, so very glad you made it. What’s your impression of the district so far?”
“It’s quite an upscale place, Mr. Brutus. However, probably best I not elaborate on my overall impression.”
He laughed. “I think I know exactly what you mean, detective. So, are you ready to get started?”
“Let’s start by interviewing your boy who was in charge of changing the reel. Do you have a private office I can use while I’m investigating? I prefer these interviews to be one-on-one.”
“I’m a little hesitant to let you do that, but if that’s what it takes for you to do your best work, then I’ll have a private office prepared for you.” He looked to the big dog that had escorted me inside and said, “Show Mr. Trigger to the office down the hall.”
I figured out what was going on with the big dog when he escorted me to an office that was only a few doors down. One I might’ve easily shown myself to. I suppose it’s understandable. I’m not sure I’d fully trust me either, given the circumstances.
“Hey big guy, got a name?”
“The name’s Marty, detective, but keep in mind Mr. Brutus isn’t paying me for small talk. You probably figured out by now I’m being paid to keep an eye on you. So, don’t try anything funny while you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Marty. Also, you never know. You and I might be good friends by the time this is over.”
He laughed out loud, breaking the stoic demeanor he had been carrying. “The moon just might come crashing down and smash right into this theater, Mr. Trigger. You just never know about these kinds of things. Let me go fetch the gentleman.”
I looked around the office trying to imagine what this manager’s life might have been like. Did he have a family? Evidently, he had a nice place to live. I wonder what the residential area in a place like this might look like. Side-by-side mansions spanning for miles into the horizon? No, probably nothing so extreme. I bet they looked a little better than my apartment though. A lot of the people who worked in Adria didn’t live in the district. They come here and worked their day, then leave the district and go home if they live close enough. Still, even some dogs who were big shots outside the district were fighting tooth and nail for a chance to come to a place like this and sweep the floors. That’s why the closer you got to Adria’s gates, the nicer the homes were in the Black District.
I once knew an accountant in my neck of the woods who tried for six months only to finally get a job waiting tables at a restaurant here. Worked there for a year, chatting people up on his lunch break, meeting people. Then he landed the biggest client of his career. Said he paid more than the next thirty clients below him combined. After that, he had all but retired. He worked with the one guy from Adria when he needed him. That’s one of those rare feel-good stories though. Most of the time, kids came here with big eyes and big hearts, getting promptly used up by the city and thrown away when they’re done. Most of those who live here will only do business with the people they grew up with. So there’s not much room for the outsider to come in. Guess you could say that with almost everybody. I’d like to think I gave everyone a fair shake.
23
“Alright, Trigger, here’s your dog. His name’s Tuffy. He’s the one Mr. Brutus told you about.”
Tuffy was a Pomeranian who was allergic to eye contact and sitting still. That didn’t mean much in this kind of situation, though. I was a little nervous myself. Besides, Tuffy had that distinct “fall guy” look. Young pup and tense; he was in the right place at the right time.
“Have a seat, Tuffy. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” I pointed to the chair across from me. Marty gave him an impolite shove, and he went over to have a seat.
“You gotta believe me, mister. I didn’t do it. I didn’t have nothing to do with that reel. Either of ‘em, swear it.”
“My name’s Trigger, private detective. I only want to ask you a few questions. Maybe take it easy.”
He took a deep breath and put on his best fake calm face. “Alright.”
“Sometimes going in order is a little boring, Tuffy, so let’s take these questions as they pop into my head. Let’s start with why you didn’t change the reel when Mr. Brutus was trying to get your attention to change it.”
“It’s like I told Mr. Brutus. I can’t hear real well up in that room.”
I signaled for Marty to leave, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Did you forget that your boss said I could have these one-on-one interviews?”
He looked like he wanted to bite my head off. “You’re right, Mr. Trigger. Where are my manners?” He stepped out of the office and closed the door.
“Now, where were we? Oh, you were just telling me that big fat lie about not being able to hear Brutus up in the booth.”
“Mr. Trigger, you gotta believe me. I–”
“I gotta believe nothing, kid. Least of all the big fat lies being told right to my face. Care to try again?”
“Alright, detective, you win. It’s true you can’t hear well up in the booth, but you can hear a little. Maybe I liked what I heard, alright? Maybe I agreed with it.”
“So, you act like you can’t hear any of it. You made sure not to look toward Brutus so you wouldn’t see him signaling for you to turn it off. That about right?”
He crossed his arms. “Yeah. That’s about right.”
“So how do you figure into bringing the new reel in here?”
“I don’t figure into it. So maybe I liked their work. I didn’t have anything to do with bringing it in here.”
I leaned over and pointed my paw in his face. “Who else besides you handles the reels?”
“What’s your angle in all this, Detective?” he squealed.
“I’m angling to get paid, kid.”
He threw his paws in the air. “That’s the problem. This whole situation with Mr. B. I got no problem with making money. It’s why I’m here too. The problem is when it’s all you care about. Problem is when you’re willing to do anything for a dime.”
I didn’t disagree with the kid, but I couldn’t say so. “That’s a nice speech there, Tuffy. Only you still didn’t answer my question. Who else handles the reels?”
He lowered his head, defeated. “Alright. It’s easy to see you got a wad of cash where your heart should be, just like everyone else in this city. We’ve got a maintenance dog who moves the boxes where they need to go after they get shipped in. Then there’s the guy who ships ‘em in, beyond that the distribution company, beyond that the production company. Need me to go on?”
“They pay you extra for your wisecracks, Tuffy?”
“No, sir. We done?”
“Yeah, for now.”
Tuffy stood up and walked out of the room in a huff. I called Marty back into the office.
“Get anything good out of the guy?” Marty asked.
“Wouldn’t be able to tell you if I did.”
“Tha
t how you’re going to play it, detective?”
“That’s how I’m playing it.”
He looked as though his head would pop at any moment. A thinly disguised growl lay on his lips, but he had about as much of a chance of keeping that act up as a boulder floating in a pond.
“Is the maintenance guy in?”
“Probably.”
“Be a sport and fetch him for me. I need to ask him a few questions.”
24
It took Marty all of ten minutes to get back to the room with the suspect in tow. The suspect was a Chihuahua like me. Almost solid brown with a patch of white fur around his left eye. I motioned for him to sit down.
“You must be the dog that does the maintenance around here. What’s your name?” I asked.
He sat down across from me like he had done a thousand times before. “Name’s Brownie. Can we make this quick? I gotta get back to work.”
“That’s up to you, Brownie. This could take all day if we feel like it - right, Marty?”
Marty rubbed the knuckles on his paw enthusiastically. “Yeah, I got nowhere else to be.”
Brownie looked back and forth between Marty and I, letting loose a big laugh. “Don’t you think you’re starting the tough-cop routine a little early?”
“Since neither of us are cops, I don’t know how well that'll go over,” I replied.
“Well, out with it. Make hay while the sun still shines and all that.”
“You seem awfully experienced with these kinds of interviews,” I stated.
“So you called me in here for an interview… to ask me why I seem experienced with doing interviews?”
“No, this is just a bonus question. Satisfying my curiosity.”
“So, you’re not a cop?”
“You remember how I said earlier that this could either go quick or we could take all day?”
“Yeah.”
“If you keep answering every question with another question, I'll have to ask Marty to get us a couple of pillows and a bunk bed.”
He smirked, turning his face. “Fire away, detective.”
“You’re familiar with the swapping incident, correct?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious. Want to just skip to the real question?”
“No, I know exactly what I asked. I want to know how familiar you are with it.”
“I orchestrated the whole thing. I had the fake reel made. Got it smuggled in here too. Would you believe me if I told you that?”
“I might. I get paid either way. All I have to do is pin it on somebody and that sounded like a confession to me. And hey, we’ve got a witness too. That sound like a good enough confession to you, Marty?”
“More than good enough for me.” Marty grinned.
“Well, there you have it. Let’s give the cops a ring and we’ll wrap this all up. Whole case solved before supper time. How about that?”
Brownie’s charismatic smile faded into a quivering frown, just like the schoolyard bully beaten in front of his friends by the runt. It looked like I had succeeded in making him nervous. Nervous dogs always make mistakes.
“Okay, now hold on! I’ll tell you I’m not your man, just in case you really are interested in solving this. I didn’t have anything to do with the reel swapping.”
“Oh? You're awfully forthcoming with the information now, Brownie.”
“I had my fun, detective, but now I’m telling you the truth. All I do is unbox the things when they come in. I take them to the right room or take the whole box to the right room if it all goes to the same place. I don’t check them. I box the old ones up and I unbox the new ones. I put the new ones on the machine if I’m asked to; if I’m not asked to, then I don’t even open the box.”
“Were you asked to when the switch happened?”
Brownie looked down for a moment, trying to remember. “You know what? I wasn’t. I wasn’t asked to open them that night.”
“Alright, Brownie. You’re free to go for now.”
He stood up, nodded, and hustled out of the room. Something about him didn’t feel right. He was definitely hiding something. I went back to Mr. Brutus’s office and got his address. Something told me it would be worth following him home to get a closer look. You learn from experience doing this job that it’s best not to ignore your instinct. It rarely steers you wrong.
25
I kept my distance as I followed him through the various corridors of Adria. We eventually wound up at what appeared to be a small, abandoned storage building nestled in the middle of several larger buildings. That made it conveniently difficult to spot from a distance. After he approached the door, he entered a code onto a keypad. I was too far away to see what he’d entered, but this whole case was getting more interesting by the minute. When he pressed the last button there was a loud click, and the door snapped slightly ajar. After Brownie entered and closed the door behind him, I made my way around the building to see if I could find a way inside, or at least a way to see what was going on in there. The best I saw was a ventilation fan about midways up on the building on the back side. Not ideal, but it would have to suffice.
As quietly as I could, I moved whatever boxes and crates I could find nearby into something resembling a pyramid I could climb onto. I climbed atop my shaky tower and peered inside. Too bad the fan was running. It covered up any noise I made, sure, but I couldn’t hear a doggone thing. There were several tables in the room with machines on top with a couple of dogs and cats on each side tinkering away. I had to watch for a while before I realized what was going on. At first, it looked like they were repairing slot machines, but it became clear after I saw one move over to a testing table. They pulled the lever bizarrely, almost like a code, and it would come up jackpot every time. They were rigging the machines.
I climbed down quietly as I could and made my way to the nearest payphone. I phoned Lieutenant Buddy and told him what was going on. He was quiet for a moment before he told me he’d better let me talk to Patches.
“You say you’re where, Trigger?”
“Adria, Colonel. I’ve got a whole warehouse full of slot-machine fixers ready for your boys to come and haul off.”
“I'll give you a fair warning about Adria. The chief doesn’t let the rest of us go there. He allows only Colonel Bones and his men to police there. My hands are tied.”
“Alright, so do I even need to guess what kind of dog Bones is?”
“Do you?”
I sighed. “How big of a problem is this guy?”
“Look, why don’t you meet him for yourself? You’ll see what I mean. Just call back and ask to speak to Colonel Bones. But Trigger, remember one thing: he’s not on your side.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I hung up.
I dialed back a minute later and asked to be transferred to Colonel Bones. A very cheery voice greeted me on the other line. He said to hang tight and wait. It didn’t take long for them to arrive in full force. About twenty dogs burst through the door and arrested everyone inside. As they were still marching everyone out, I finally got my chance to meet Colonel Bones.
“You must be the one who tipped us off. What brought you here?”
“Name’s Trigger, Colonel. Brutus, the owner of the Starlight, hired me to look into the incident that happened at his theater recently.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Too early to say, but I think it’s going pretty well. Earlier today I interviewed the guy who works maintenance at the theater. I thought he acted strange, so I followed him here. I was hoping to find something to do with the reels, but instead I found this. I’m sure a fella such as yourself can appreciate the opportunity to bring a bunch of criminals to justice.”
“We do appreciate the tipoff, Trigger.” For a moment there, I thought maybe Patches had him all wrong; or maybe he exaggerated. That feeling, however, didn’t last long. “For one, these guys weren’t paying their fair share to Mr. B to conduct this kind of business in Adria. Second, Mr. B has a
big casino down the street. If these rigged machines were going where I think they were that would be terrible for Mr. B’s business. Wouldn’t you agree?”
It amazed me how open he was with his allegiance to Mr. B. I knew things were bad in Adria, but he said all that without a single hint of concern in his voice. Bones must have felt invincible. Maybe he was, or maybe this kind of overconfidence was the gap in his armor.
“I suppose it would be.”
He put his paw on my shoulder, lowering his voice. “You understand what I’m driving at?”
And there it was. The veiled threat I'd been expecting. “Colonel, you make yourself crystal clear.”
26
What a mess this whole thing was turning out to be. My case was showing all the usual signs of one about to go cold. I was working blind in the first place; I'd still gotten no direction from Rico, and now I couldn’t count on any help from the cops. But that was a familiar predicament for me. I took the night off and enjoyed myself a little on Brutus’s dime. My first day here had turned out to be a productive one.
There was an uppity joint just down the street from the theater I’d passed on my way in called Sweet Dreams. Saw a sign out front that said they served food, so I headed down to have a look. It was a lively place with a steady flow of young dogs and cats coming and going. Definitely not a place I'd normally find myself. Give me a newspaper and a cup of joe over a loud party any day of the week. I got more than plenty of excitement from work. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was kick my feet up and enjoy some peace and quiet.