by M. A. Owens
Rory’s face twitched and his brow furrowed, and he was slow to answer. “Apologies, Your Honor.” He turned back to Bones. “I’ll leave you with one final question. In any of these so-called shady dealings which you had with Vash, was he ever present?”
“No, never.” Bones had stopped smiling. It was another blow to their case against Mr. B. Could anyone on the jury be dumb enough to doubt the case based on something so insignificant? Yes, anything was possible, especially that. It was a real shame, but it was better to risk being at the mercy of a group of fools than one corrupt individual. This was the best chance we would ever get.
Rory walked away from the witness stand. “No further questions.”
48
The judge looked through his notes. “Mr. Rory, please call the next witness to the stand.”
“We call Trigger to the witness stand.”
I had butterflies in my stomach. In my career, I’d sat on that witness stand many times, both as an officer and as a private detective. None of those times involved anything like this. They put a stepping stool next to the stand and a large cushion on the seat so I could see everyone, and they could see me.
“I’m a little confused. Do I address you as Lieutenant Trigger or Mr. Trigger?” Rory asked.
“Let’s go with the easy one. Mr. Trigger is fine.”
“Are you not an officer?”
“Technically. With all that’s been going on, I haven’t turned in my badge yet. You could say I had more important things to do.”
“The court might find it a little strange that you can’t seem to decide on whether you’re an officer or a private detective.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?”
“I was just observing that it was strange is all.”
Gabe knocked gently on his desk. “Objection, Your Honor. Mr. Rory is once again taking us on an involuntary adventure into the land of speculation.”
The judge nodded. “Sustained.”
Rory nodded, now entirely composed again. “Mr. Trigger, what exactly brought you to Adria?”
“Brutus hired me to investigate the reel swapping incident.”
“And who did you discover to be the culprit?”
“A security dog by the name of Marty. We found the original reel at his residence. We believed him to be working for Mr. B.”
“Purely speculation?”
“At that point, yes. Purely speculation.”
Rory tensed when I said “at that point.” He was quick to move on from it. “Mr. Trigger, what about the second time you found yourself in Adria?”
“Personal business.”
Rory paused, thinking carefully. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
Rory had played it safe. Rather than talk me into a corner, he avoided the possibility of talking himself into a corner.
Gabe approached. “Good afternoon, Mr. Trigger.”
I returned a curt nod.
“Mr. Trigger, you were originally a police officer before you became a private detective, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“You were removed from this position by the former corrupt chief for what most would consider outstanding integrity as an officer. At least, that’s what I’ve been told by several officers who worked with you. Is that also correct?”
“I’d like to think I was just doing my job,” I replied.
Gabe turned to the jury, nodding to them knowingly. “How are your wounds healing?”
Rory raised his paw. “Objection. That’s irrelevant. Mr. Gabe can make small talk with the witness on his own time.”
The judge shook his head. “Overruled. Please continue, Mr. Gabe.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Please answer the question, Mr. Trigger.”
“I’m still pretty beat up. According to the doctors, I should only just now be up and about. But it’s nothing a little time won’t heal.”
“Mr. Trigger, I would like you to tell the court how it was you received those injuries.”
“Oh, I’d love to. See, just days ago I got a visit from that dog I helped put away in Adria, Marty, at my office. Only, he wasn’t alone. He brought a friend with him.”
That big grin Mr. B kept on his face at all times was slowly, but surely shriveling away. He had been so careful never to be present during his dirtiest deeds, but he made it a point to break that rule, just for me. He must’ve considered the visit to be no risk at all. I was soon to be a dead dog, and dead dogs don’t talk. But here I was. Talking. His curiosity to see the dog who had caused him so much trouble, in person, had killed one of the best arguments the defense had made in this trial. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him, but killing his chances of escaping justice was good enough for me.
“And this friend of his, would you recognize him?” Gabe asked.
“Sure, I could point him out to you right now.”
“Mr. Trigger, please point out this individual to the court.”
I pointed straight to Mr. B. Gasps and chatter erupted in the courtroom. Mr. B himself shot up from his chair, barely able to contain his anger. The judge banged his gavel repeatedly. “Order! Order!” Several individuals, many who I know must’ve been plants, had to be dragged out. Many of them screamed about how I was a liar, or how Mr. B had helped them with such and such and blah blah blah. As for Mr. B, his lapse in composure was only momentary. Though still not smiling, he sat back down quickly before anyone else had even noticed, looking as calm as he ever had.
Gabe made his way back to the witness stand. “And you’re certain it was Mr. Vash in your office?”
“Absolutely certain.”
“Did Mr. Vash say anything?”
“He ordered Marty to make quick work of me. I’m sure it was the only reason he bothered to show up. Dead dogs don’t talk. He introduced himself before he left. Then Marty gave me a good thrashing, which led to my office being burned down. I got lucky and by some miracle fought him off. I escaped the building before the whole thing went up in smoke.”
Gabe turned to the jury. “So much for never being there himself and always blaming it on someone else. No further questions.”
Everyone was on edge since the outburst. You got the feeling that everything seemed to go our way, but no one dared to get their hopes up. We still had one wild card to overcome: the jury.
The judge shuffled through his notes. “After a short recess, we’ll return for closing statements.”
49
Gabe was the first to make his closing statement. He wobbled about on his cane, but with his shoulders firmly back and his head held high.
“Dogs and cats of the jury. Many brave dogs and cats worked tirelessly to bring us together on this auspicious day. Some paid with their lives or their livelihoods. They all gave something so you could inherit a safer city. A safer city for your kittens and puppies, for your wives and for your husbands. For your grandchildren and their grandchildren. And not just a safer city either, but one that is more prosperous.”
Gabe continued, “Imagine how much these businesses might grow without the constant threat of thugs breathing down their neck, making threats, and stealing money from the hungry mouths of their workers. Sure, this may not be as much of a problem in Adria, but look at places like the Black District. Mr. Vash’s despicable behavior has smothered out the desire of the young people there and all over the city. Why bother opening a shop when you’re just going to be harassed and bullied? Why be honest when it’s crime that pays? Our youngest citizens, our children, who would otherwise take up honest trades when they grow up, are being groomed by gangsters and thieves. Now, I’m not naive enough to believe that this problem will be gone completely, but you… it is in your power to deal it a serious blow today.”
I thought back on Clive and how he and his family might be doing. He was just the sort of lad Gabe was describing. Undoubtedly many of these jury members knew someone like that. Maybe they’d even been someone like t
hat. Maybe they were someone like that now, planted there by Mr. B for a verdict of not guilty. My attention snapped back to Gabe’s statement.
“I also want to give a message to those of a particular purpose among you. Yes, we know you’re here, but no, we don’t know who you are. I’m speaking to those who were planted here by Mr. B to ensure that, yet again, he gets off without so much as a slap on the wrist. Consider breaking ranks. Consider casting away whatever payment he promised you. Do something far more valuable for yourself. Maybe you’ve been promised treasure. Sure, he will make good on his payment. We’ve already heard here today that he rewards those who serve him well, but consider for a moment a different reward. You may struggle tomorrow without his more direct reward, and the next day, but over time you will suffer less and less. Most of all, you will save your city and the lives of your neighbors, your friends, your family. Is that not the greater reward? I only ask that you consider it carefully. That is all.”
The judge himself appeared moved by the speech. He took a moment to gather his composure, doing his best to appear impartial. “Mr. Rory, your closing statement please.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Rory walked the length of the jury box, his energy and youthful vigor spilling out into the air itself.
“People of Arc City. Members of the jury. What has Arc City ever done for you? My client is just one cat in a city of thousands of cats and dogs. Could all your misfortune really be blamed on this villain, Mr. B, Vash, even if he was as terrible as the prosecution has told you he is? Could there even be such a boogeyman? Let’s all think about this question and be reasonable. There cannot be.
“I’m sure many of you can remember when Adria was not such a productive and prosperous place as it is now. Yes, there’s more crime, but there’s also more of everything. More wealth, more entertainment, and more opportunity, for everyone. I’m sure many of you have heard of or frequented many of my client’s businesses. He has donated real money to your schools and police forces. He has employed hundreds. He’s also the reason Mr. Gabe and myself can now stand before you as equals, both attorneys, both respected by this court. I’m sure many of you remember a time when I wouldn’t have been allowed such a privilege, simply on the basis of my species. You’ll not find another in the city more dedicated to the advancement of the civil rights of cats. Vash has brought real progress to this city, and this… this is how he is thanked.
“As for these bullied business owners experiencing buyer’s remorse with their supposedly terrible business insurance? We have put together statistics showing that nearly every business owner who duly paid their premiums operated almost entirely without incident. If you ask me, that’s money well spent.
“If you convict my client today, consider what the city will be losing. Is he really the legendary villain you have all come to fear, or is he merely a convenient scapegoat for the incompetence of your police and leaders? Is he perfect? No, but who here is? Don’t let yourself be told what to think by all the flimsy, cherry-picked evidence. Think for yourselves. That is all.”
I knew what Rory had been saying was littered with nonsense, but I couldn’t help feeling that part of it was true. That old chicken-and-the-egg question. Was Mr. B just a symptom of a broken system, with corrupt leaders looking for a payoff? Corrupt police giving in to the first thug to make them a nice offer? Patches had shown us, through the recent accomplishments of the police, that things could’ve been different all along. We now had a straight-laced cop heading the ACPD, and we arrived here in no time. Mr. B couldn’t be entirely to blame for that, could he? In the end, it didn’t matter. He’d done what he’d done, and he needed to face justice for it. We’d bring the others to justice tomorrow, setting an example for them to fear today.
Nothing was ever as simple as just one cat or one dog. No problem was so small that getting rid of one cat or one dog would fix it. But whatever happened, we’d be ready for it.
The jury was dismissed and deliberated for only an hour before returning. A young cat girl handed the judge a small envelope and took her seat. Mr. B smiled and nodded at her. I knew exactly what that nod meant.
“Vash, please stand and receive the jury’s verdict,” the judge demanded.
He complied, standing confidently behind a podium facing the judge, his smile never fading. The judge opened the envelope at what seemed like a snail’s pace. After reading over the letter calmly and carefully, he addressed the courtroom.
“In the case of Arc City versus Vash, and regarding all charges presented, the jury finds Vash, otherwise known as Mr. B… guilty of all charges. As allowed by law, I am delivering the maximum sentence, life in prison, with no chance of parole. Vash, let me just say it gives me great pleasure to send you to prison for the rest of your life. You will never see the light of day again as a free cat.”
Vash just continued smiling. “If you say so, Your Honor. I have a feeling that I’ll be seeing all of you again very soon.”
He said the words as if, beyond all doubt, he knew them to be true. As for whether or not I believed them, I suppose anything was possible. If he’d already made arrangements, it would be difficult to discover them. If I had to guess, though, it was just wishful thinking on his part. He assumed this would be just another problem for him to buy or threaten his way out of, but he was wrong. This was the end of the line for Mr. B.
50
The city quickly erupted with celebration and riots alike, those two groups clashing with one another as the news spread. It would die down in a few days, and we'd get to see how the dust settled. I made my way to Adria to pay a visit to a cat I knew would be sympathetic to those celebrating. She’s probably having a celebration of her own.
I made a stop by Rick’s office before I went to see her. He'd heard the news on the radio and was apparently waiting for me. He had two glasses sitting on his desk with an unopened bottle beside them. He poured both to full and slid one across the second I walked in.
“We did it, detective. We did it,” Rick said, taking a sip.
That there were no jokes or jests from the usually goofy beagle today took me aback.
I hung my head. “You deserve more credit than me. I would've been content sitting in that office scraping by for the rest of my days. The city had given up on me, and I'd given up on it. I'd convinced myself I couldn't make a difference, even if that’s what I wanted. Worse still, I convinced myself that I didn't want to make a difference. You, on the other hand—”
Rick motioned for me not to continue. “I had the means. That's the only difference. I have no higher character than you. I'd argue less, actually. If I’d been the one sitting in that office in Black District, I’d have been too much of a coward to take all the physical risks you did. I'm fortunate enough to have the wealth and success I do to give me other options, though I worked hard for it. Still, there's a big serving of luck involved as well.” His smile grew wide. “Speaking of which, I thought it had run out recently. Thank you for rescuing me. There's no way I was getting out of there alive.”
I chuckled. “Don't mention it. I didn't find out they kidnapped you until after I already made it back here. I tried to find you to come up with a plan. I ran into Sugarplum after I found out you weren't here. We… by the way, did you ever look into this Bad Kitty character?”
“No, I'm afraid I didn't have the chance. Would you still like me to?”
I pondered the question for a long while. “I'm not sure she's even an enemy. Let's leave her alone for now.”
“If you say so.”
We spent the next several hours chatting and looking back on events. I told him about my plans to use the money from the last job to open a new office in the Black District. He talked about how he’d gotten caught on purpose to help the judge’s family but found himself unable to escape. We shared a laugh about it. When I realized how long I’d been there, I stood up and offered my paw. We shook and I left the office. A private detective becoming good friends wi
th one of the most wanted criminals in Arc City history. How’s that for irony?
I went to see Sugarplum, who promptly showed me to her new office. It was modest for her and standard fare for a business office, but still a nice start.
“What do you think, Trigger?” she asked, eager for an answer.
“Elaborate for a private detective’s office. We could spend a few hours pouring dust around here and there while throwing papers on the floor to make it more authentic.”
She put her paw over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oh dear, no. I think I’ll turn my father’s cover business into a real business. Insurance in the form of private security. We’ll staff your business with trained security personnel. For a fee, of course, but we’ll cover the expenses if anything happens to the business. What do you think?”
“I like it better than beating people up if they don’t pay you money. I think this is even legal, too. A big plus.”
“Trigger, you’ve helped me a great deal—”
“Yeah, see to it I don’t regret that,” I grunted.
“No promises,” she said. “What can I get for you? Name one thing. Anything. I’ll get it for you. Name it and it’ll be yours.”
“Anything at all?”
She nodded in confirmation. “Anything at all.”
I left the building, a content smile across my face, giving my pocket a triumphant pat.
My next stop was Blue District headquarters. I walked into Patches’ office where he was joined by Lieutenant Buddy and Lieutenant Petey. Except Lieutenant Buddy was now Colonel Buddy. Patches assigned him to head up the Adria division, charged with cleaning up both the division and Adria itself. It was quite the job and a responsibility that no one envied. I slapped Buddy on the back and offered him my congratulations.
He shook my paw. “Why don’t you come join me in Adria, Trigger? Just keep that old badge in your paw there and forget you ever came to give it back.”