by M. A. Owens
Eventually, I found a folder with some recent properties that were purchased at the request of Mr. B, but I heard footsteps before I could look inside. It was too late for me to get out.
“Well, hello there Nigel.”
It was Sugarplum’s voice, coming from just outside the door. She’d noticed someone coming and saved my hide.
“Sugarplum? What are you doing here?” he asked, startled.
“Why, I came here to see you.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you call me… what was it again? A ‘nauseating yes-cat?’”
She giggled. “Oh, that was ages ago. Surely your ego isn’t that frail.”
“It was last week...”
“Was it? Oh, you know how us girls are. One day we want something, and the next day we change our minds.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday. I may not be as smart as you, but I’m smart enough to know when I’m being duped.”
I finally found what I was looking for. A small storage building, leased just last month. Isolated, and not likely discovered by accident. Too small to be of any real commercial value. I waited for my chance to escape out the door and through the second-floor exit.
“Alright, let’s play it straight. I’m here to discuss a business proposition with you for something just over the horizon. It may benefit from someone with your expertise. Interested?” she asked.
“Let’s sit down in my office.”
I tensed up, looking for a place to scramble and hide if I needed to.
“No, it won’t take long. Let’s get a snack at the bar.”
“After you,” he said.
I heard their steps fade down the stairs. That was some quick thinking. Maybe this partner business wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
I dashed out of the office and through the exit on the second floor.
41
I waited back at the hotel. I didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances that might spoil Sugarplum’s plan. She was only about fifteen minutes behind me.
“So, how did you shake Nigel Moneybags?” I asked.
“Nothing special. We concluded our conversation.”
“So, what was that business proposition all about?”
She grinned. “Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
“Fine. Fine. Sorry I asked. Anyway, I got the goods.” I invited her to sit at the table with me and I slid the folder across to her.
“Have a look. See anything interesting in there?”
She flipped through the pages until she got to the small warehouse. “That one. There. That could be the place.”
“Good. Yes, I think you may be right.”
“So, what’s our next move?”
“Your next move is to put on that detective costume of yours, ‘partner’. Ready for some field work?” I asked.
“Give me five minutes.”
She wasn’t kidding. She was dressed and ready to head out in three.
Even though we had an address, the warehouse was a real pain to locate. We had to go down one street, which was easy enough. Then down another street that had the name torn off the sign. We had to find a local to ask which one it was. Then, we had to walk what seemed like forever until we finally made it to a large row of identical abandoned storage buildings. I had Sugarplum scout it out once we could identify which building was ours. If she got caught, it would be a lot easier for her to talk her way out of trouble with little incident. She disappeared around the building only to come back into my sight to give me the signal to get closer. Luckily for us it was summer, so they'd propped the back door open to help with the heat.
We took a careful peek inside and realized only one cat was guarding the whole place. But the real surprise came when we saw the other occupants. There were at least a dozen dogs and cats tied up to metal poles along the wall, none of which I recognized. We waited for a while to see if anyone would show up, but no one did. Which made sense given how remote this place was, but it meant we really lucked out. Taking care of one goon would be child’s play for the two of us. I asked Sugarplum to do what she did best - put on a performance. She went around to the front door and knocked loudly.
“Help! Help, I’m lost!”
As soon as he turned his attention to the front door, I rushed up from behind and gave him a hard knock in the back of the skull with my baton. I was really beginning to love this thing. We wasted no time untying everyone as soon as he hit the floor.
The first dog I untied didn’t want to stick around to talk. Can’t say I blamed him. I had more luck with the second one. He said they had a beagle with them until this morning. Early this morning, a few cats in suits came and took him. Only him, none of the others. They told him they had a better place in mind to host a guest of his stature. Only problem was he had no idea where they went. The trail had gone cold. Again.
We got everyone untied and sent them on their way. Any of them we could get to listen to us we asked to contact the police. Not sure how many of them would trust the police enough to do it, but just one or two would be enough. We had to let Patches know about this and quick. He may have already gotten a lead on where they moved Rick. It was the best shot we had.
I rushed to a payphone, rang up HQ, and asked dispatch to transfer me to the chief. She told me the chief had been placed on temporary leave by a judge pending investigation. I asked to be transferred over to Buddy instead, and he was in a fit. He explained that the same judge who had been prosecuting criminals fairly since Patches became chief had now flip-flopped on them overnight. He was also refusing to talk to police. Buddy asked me to pay him a visit and look into it. He suspected foul play, and I was sure he was right.
42
After I hung up the phone with Buddy, I filled in Sugarplum on the whole situation. Figuring we’d already wasted enough time, we made quick work out of heading to the Capitol District. We were both going to be out of our element now. I doubt Sugar was any better at handling the bureaucrats than I was. Maybe worse even, as hard as that might be to believe. She was quite the free spirit.
Capitol District, at least, was not a difficult place to enter. That was in part, I theorized, because it was one of the most boring places in the city. Some of the most insufferable people around inhabited it. You could get in so long as you didn’t look too shady. The overall value of this place had improved dramatically in just a short amount of time. I suspected that was thanks to payments from Mr. B for services rendered.
If he wanted a law changed, it didn’t take long for it to change. In their spare time, which for these jokers was all of their time, they usually sat around in the Leader Hall bickering or pretending to bicker about things and problems that didn’t exist until they talked about them. You might describe them as actors. Actors for a play you would never want to go see but they still forced you to buy tickets for. You didn’t just pay to see the play either. You paid to produce it, you paid for the building the play took place in, you paid the actors in the play, and for anything else they may want to waste money on. I suspect that some may disagree with me, but having lived in the Black District for as long as I have, I felt I had credibility to say it: this was the worst place in the whole city.
We made our way to the judge’s house and knocked on the door. A voice shouted through the other side, but the door remained shut.
“Are you with the police?” the voice said.
I shook my head. “No sir, no police here.”
“You work for the police?”
“No sir, not working for the police either. We work for you. We’re here to help you with your current predicament.”
The door flung open, and an old German Shepherd ushered us inside.
“What do you mean ‘working for me’?”
“Just what I said. Was it extortion? Blackmail? Kidnapping? Or are you expecting a big payday? A little icing on that big sweet taxpayer cake of yours?” I asked.
“Carson. This is my partner, Sugarplum.”
“Now, wait just a minute. Sugarplum? That fiend’s daughter? This some kind of trick?”
“No trick. Believe it or not, she’s on our side. That, and we’re probably your biggest allies in this whole city at the moment.”
Sugarplum, who’d been quiet throughout the whole conversation, finally joined in. “What’s he done that’s got you switching sides so close to the end of the war?”
“I’m a judge. I’m not on any side if I’m able to do my job properly. He tried a few things, actually. First, he offered to pay me off. I should have reported it to the police, but I was afraid that might further provoke him. I should have realized that I had already provoked him by treating these cases fairly. Next, he dug up dirt on me. Sure, it might prevent me from being elected another term as a judge, but it was nothing that would get me removed from my seat immediately. I broke a few laws in my career as a lawyer. You know how that is. Occupational hazard.
“He became even more persuasive when none of that got me to budge. The police had my family hidden away, but he got to them anyway. I’m sure it’s because he still has a few moles there, and not because he found them on his own, or by chance. He’s keeping my wife and sons somewhere, I’m sure here in the Capitol District. He couldn’t have taken them far without being noticed.
“He gave me the names of a few of his boys he needed let off and asked that I hold the new chief up temporarily. Mr. B turned himself in as all of this was being carried out and, given his prominence, they have offered him an expedited trial that is to take place just days from now. No doubt turning himself in is part of his plan and carefully timed. He knows he has little to worry about going forward, should he be found not guilty for all of these accumulated crimes.
“There are plans to pack the jury with those loyal to him, and I’m powerless to stop it. They will find him not guilty, and that verdict, as a result, will ruin the credibility of the new chief who spent night and day putting everything together. He’ll get the can and we’ll get another stooge for a chief. Things will be even worse than they were before. Mr. B is clever. He didn't make it to where he is now by accident. He won't make the same mistakes again.”
“You mean unless we can find your family in the next couple of days and get them out,” Sugar said, sounding unconvincingly optimistic.
“In time for the trial? You’d have to do so before his cronies fill the jury roster. You’d have to allow enough time for witnesses to hear about the chief being reinstated and be willing to even show up to the trial. Do you have any leads?” he asked. His face told me everything I needed to know. He had no hope.
I thought for a moment and came up with a quick plan. “I might have one.”
43
I thought of an old friend of mine, Mr. Bones. Chances were good he had the information we needed. I rang up Buddy and got him caught up on the whole situation. Told him I needed to see Bones without delay. He said he would have him transferred to headquarters for a proper police interview. Because of regulations, they would allow only one officer to interrogate Bones, but luck seemed to finally be on my side. Either Patches outright forgot, or he neglected to remove my name from the official roster. The next morning I arrived at headquarters. Bones was waiting for me in an interview room, and Sugarplum had to wait outside, much to her disappointment.
I sat down across from Bones and studied his appearance closely. He didn’t look well. Actually, it’s not that he didn’t look well. It’s that he seemed to have lost that bright, indestructible confidence he had before. With good reason too, all things considered.
“You being treated alright, Colonel?”
“You know, Trigger, I’m a little smarter than I look. Maybe not by much, but a bit. See, I don’t blame you for everything that went down. I can only assume that you played a role in setting me up because you were let off. Probably a big role. Truth is, you didn’t make me do anything. Me getting caught would’ve happened sooner or later. Now I assume that since you had me transferred here for an interview, I must have something you need.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “One thing that hasn’t changed at all is that I’m in this for me. If Mr. B won't back me up or bail me out, and I don’t benefit from protecting him, then any information I may or may not have is fair game. But before I tell you anything, I want assurances. Quid pro quo and all that.”
“Fair enough,” I replied. “Since you're on the level, let’s play it straight. I can’t promise you jack. I’m not even sure I’m still technically a cop. It’s just that I forgot to resign and they forgot to take my badge, with everything else going on. What I can tell you is that me and the new chief go way back. We’re like brothers. You tell me what I want to know, and I can all but guarantee you I can get a quarter of your sentence stripped away.” I smacked the table. “Just like that.”
“I suppose that’s a decent starting point,” Bones mumbled. “But before we settle on the cost, I want to know exactly what you’re expecting that offer to buy you.”
“Mr. B has a secret holding place in the Capitol District. I need to know where that is.”
“I spent all my time in Adria. What makes you think I know anything about some secret safe houses in the Capitol District?”
“You’re telling me you never had to transfer someone out of that place and into Adria or transfer someone there?”
He chuckled. “Oh, Trigger. You don’t know as much as you think you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This place you’re talking about. Sure, some get transferred in from Adria occasionally. However, no one gets transferred out. Understand? It’s the last-stop shop. The final destination, if you get my meaning. It’s a long stay. From what I hear, kind of permanent.”
“I’m not sure I understand. You wouldn’t transfer someone halfway across the city just to off him in some secret location. Tell me if I’m hot or cold here. This must be the place for people who get caught up in the political side of things. Those cats and dogs in the Capitol District are a lot more ruthless. Can’t have anything getting out and swaying public opinion. So where is it?”
He laughed. “I think I must be underplaying my hand a little. Judging by your interest in this place, I’m guessing valuable witnesses against Mr. B are being held there. Possibly even the family of the judge or jury members? That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? Well, since we're playing for such big stakes, I still want a good deal here - even though I’m not eager to do any big favors for Mr. B anymore. For what you’re asking, nothing less than dropping all charges will do.”
I slammed my paws down on the table. “Drop all charges? You must be out of your mind. Have you seen the list of charges you’re up against?”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Perhaps it is just a hair too much to ask.”
“At the very least.”
He leaned in, smiling. “Let me up the offer so you’re still getting a good deal. On the big day, I’ll testify against Mr. B. A lot of the witnesses won't show and you know it. Like you and the chief, Mr. B and I go way back. I know a lot and I’ll spill it all. So get the chief in here to sign off and we’ll call it a day. I’ll send you on your way to that secret location, and we’ll all pat ourselves on the back for a job well done.”
“The chief’s been placed on temporary leave by a judge, for reasons you’re smart enough to guess,” I said.
“You give me your word, I’ll give you the address. You take care of the judge’s little problem and get the chief reinstated. Get him in here to sign the papers, and you’ll get the testimony. What do you say?”
I hesitated, but what choice did I have? “You got a deal.”
I stood up and offered my paw. He stood up and shook it, that bright expression returning. I handed him a pen and paper, and he wrote the address.
I wondered how the chief would f
eel about all this. He'd have done the same thing I'd wager, and there was a time I'd have resented him for it.
44
I took the address, rushing to meet Sugar out in the lobby, and we hightailed it back to the Capitol District. It turned out I had been to this house before. I’m not sure why I didn’t recognize it sooner, but this was the house of my old friend; the mayor’s son, Jimmy Jim. It’s not that it surprised me, but he would recognize my face. We’d either have to bust in swinging and do things the hard way - with who knows how many goons to take on; or, we’d have to do this Sugar’s way. I was still busted up, so the hard way wouldn’t do.
Chances were that Sugarplum would be recognized too, but in her case she was counting on it. I hid around the corner to the side of his home, to give her plenty of distance. She knocked on the door and Jim answered.
“Sugar? What are you doing here?”
“What do you think I’m doing here, Jim?” she replied, a touch of venom in her voice.
He shrank back a little. Her tone indicated he should know the answer, but he was afraid to speak too quickly. “I might know. Didn’t you and your dad have a falling out?”
“Yes, and as punishment, he sent me here to see you. Can you imagine? Surely I haven’t been that bad.”
“Always the bottomless well of wisecracks, huh, Sugarplum? So, what is it you need? Everyone’s here that should be here, just like he asked.”
“I’m not sure what wisecracks you mean, Jimmy. My father has found you to be a… oh, how to put this nicely… an idiot. I’m sure you’re aware of how important this matter is.”
“An idiot? Sure, I’ve made mistakes but—”
“Finally, a point of agreement for you and I.”
“You’re a real charmer, Sugarplum. Sure, I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve always done exactly what your father asked of me,” he whimpered.