In the Wolf's Lair

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  “They had a litter of ten this summer,” said Badger. “And before that, a litter of fifteen last spring. But they’ve grown up a bit by now.” He took a step toward Mrs. Rabbit. “We are all very sorry for your loss.”

  “No one knows how hard this is for me,” she said, staring at Rabbit’s outline on the ground. Her body—covered in white fur with a downy gray underside—was shaking. “Show me my Rabbit. I’m ready to…to… to identify the body.”

  “Unfortunately, there isn’t much to identify,” said Badger. “There is this tuft of gray fur. Do you recognize it?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Rabbit quietly, her shaking increasing. “This is the fur of my husband.”

  “Don’t say another word” came a voice from up above. “Not another word without our supervision!”

  Two owls nose-dived down into the clearing. Chief Badger recognized them. They were the two lawyer owls from the pub.

  “We’re lawyer owls,” they said to Mrs. Rabbit. “Our condolences for your loss. We will defend you.”

  “Defend her?” said Badger in disbelief. “But no one is accusing her of anything!”

  “There will always be someone ready to accuse a poor widowed mother,” said one owl.

  “Especially one who has lost her breadwinner,” added the other.

  CHAPTER 3: IN WHICH THE SUSPECT HOWLS

  “Open up, Wolf!” Badgercat struck the giant boulder blocking the entrance to Wolf’s den first with his front paw and then with his back paw. “It’s the police.”

  A low growling came from inside the den.

  “Far Woods Police Department!” boomed Chief Badger.

  “I don’t care,” said Wolf hoarsely. “I’m sleeping. Go away.”

  “We’ll use force to come in if we have to,” said Badger calmly. “Resisting the police will only make things worse. We’re here to question you.”

  “Again?” Wolf jerked the boulder aside and poked his muzzle out of the opening. “Sarge, aren’t you tired of accusing me? Why am I always first on your list? Huh? Theft—Wolf did it! Bite marks—Wolf! What’d I do this time, eh?”

  “What’s that I smell coming from your mouth?” sniffed Badgercat.

  “What in the…?” began Wolf.

  “This time it’s serious,” interrupted Badger. “You’re suspected of murder.”

  “I’m wondering if it isn’t rabbit meat I smell?” mused Badgercat.

  “Guys, come on!” howled Wolf. “Me? I’d never!” He ripped a huge clump of graying fur from his chest and threw it on the ground. “I didn’t eat Rabbit.”

  “How do you know who the victim was?” said Badger, squinting probingly. “And who said that he was eaten?”

  “He said it! That catlike…” Wolf pointed at Badgercat with his claw. He spat something black and shiny onto the floor and added, “Freak.”

  “I am Assistant Chief Badger of the Far Woods Police! For insulting an officer you will get an additional three days added to your life sentence!”

  “Life sentence? But why, Sarge?”

  “My colleague merely asked what the smell coming from your mouth was. Perhaps it was that of rabbit meat,” clarified Badger. “The rest came straight from you. You’re obviously aware that Rabbit was killed and eaten last night.”

  “The whole woods knows that! But what makes you think I did it?”

  “What did you eat for dinner last night?” asked Badgercat in an icy tone, entering Wolf’s den.

  “Porcini mushrooms,” snarled Wolf, watching Badgercat and then Badger pass by him into the den.

  “But you’re a predator,” said Badgercat, scanning the den for any evidence. “And predators need meat. Rabbit meat, for instance. Isn’t that so?”

  “You’re full of it and you know it, Kitty!” Wolf bared his teeth. “It’s illegal for predators to hunt for meat in the Far Woods.”

  “To prey on its residents,” said Badger.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s illegal to prey on the residents of the Far Woods, not ‘to hunt for meat.’”

  “What’s the difference, Sarge?” Wolf popped something into his mouth and began chomping loudly. “What matters is that I follow the law.” He spat on the floor. “I eat mostly mushrooms. If you fry them up nicely, they’re practically the same as steak. You want proof? There’s some left over from last night in that pan over there.”

  “Yes, let’s see,” said Badger.

  “Here ya go,” said Wolf, shoving the pan under Badger’s nose.

  “Yes, these are mushrooms,” confirmed Badger. “But this doesn’t prove that you didn’t eat Rabbit. The mushrooms could have been a side dish.”

  “I didn’t eat Rabbit,” Wolf repeated stubbornly. He made another crunching sound and spat on the floor.

  “What are you munching on?” asked Badgercat suspiciously.

  “Beetles. I’ve heard they have got more protein than deer meat. Plus, they help calm my nerves.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “What do you think? You’re in my den, giving me the third degree. Wouldn’t you be nervous if you were being accused of murder?”

  “If I wasn’t guilty of anything, I wouldn’t be nervous,” said Badgercat. “The police always carry out justice fairly.”

  “Yeah right, I know how that goes,” growled Wolf.

  “The police are fair and just,” affirmed Badger. “How about you tell us where you were last night around nine o’clock?”

  “I was here in my den.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Eating mushrooms. Munching on beetles. Watching the root tube.”

  “Can someone confirm your alibi?”

  “Confirm my…?” Wolf was confused.

  “Was anyone here in the den with you?”

  “Of course not. I’m a lone wolf.”

  “So you were all alone,” clarified Badgercat.

  “Yeah.”

  “So no one can confirm that during the time of Rabbit’s murder you were here, in your den, watching the root tube—and not murdering Rabbit in the clearing. So you don’t have an alibi.”

  “I guess not,” Wolf scrunched up his nose, exposing his top teeth. “But I didn’t kill him.”

  “What was on the tube?” asked Badger in an offhand manner. “Soccer, right?”

  “Yep, soccer,” nodded Wolf.

  “It was the Far Woods Squirrels versus the Near Woods Weasels, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why are you giving him hints?” whispered Badgercat loudly. Badger ignored his partner and continued to chat with Wolf about sports.

  “Who won? It was our Squirrels, wasn’t it?” said Badger, smiling.

  “Of course,” nodded Wolf, smiling in agreement. “Our Squirrels!”

  “Far Woods Squirrels are the champions!” Badger pumped his fist in the air in celebration.

  “Champions! Yea!” howled Wolf.

  “What are you so excited about?” Badger stopped smiling abruptly.

  “But…our Squirrels…” Wolf was startled. “They’re the champions.”

  “Yes, our Squirrels are the champions, but you… you’re lying.”

  “What do you mean, Sarge?”

  “What I mean is there wasn’t any soccer on the root tube last night,” said Badger. “In fact, nothing was on. All the root tubes were down last night. Because of all the rain we’ve been having, there was a glitch in the roots of the main oak. Which means you weren’t watching the root tube last night at nine o’clock. You were in the clearing at the scene of the crime. Vulture found your tracks. And Mrs. Rabbit said you strongly disliked Rabbit and had threatened to get even with him on multiple occasions.”

  “But I didn’t kill him, Sarge, I didn’t!” howled Wolf. “Okay, okay, I was there. But I didn’t do it!”

  “Lone Wolf,” interrupted Badgercat, “you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Rabbit. Everything that you howl can and will be used against you. Paws behind your back.” In one s
wift jump, Badgercat had materialized behind Wolf and handcuffed him.

  CHAPTER 4: IN WHICH SOMEBODY BEHAVES VERY STRANGELY

  “Nice job catching Wolf in his root tube lie,” said Badgercat respectfully, once they’d locked Wolf up in an underground detention cell beneath the Impenetrable Hill. “No way he can weasel himself out now.”

  “Yes, take note,” said Chief Badger and almost tripped. A small warted frog leaped out from under his paws and hopped off, filling the air with croaking.

  “She was eavesdropping,” Badgercat nodded after the frog. “Now news of the arrest will be all over the Frog News Network. Well, off to the Tree Knot? Let’s celebrate another case closed over a couple of glasses of milk.” Just thinking about the milk and their arrest brought such pleasure to Badgercat that he began purring at a level two of bliss.

  “Yes, to the Tree Knot,” Chief Badger answered, nodding absently. His mind was clearly someplace else.

  “You don’t seem happy,” said Badgercat, looking him over.

  “What’s there to be happy about?”

  “We solved the case of Rabbit’s murder.”

  “Right, we solved it,” agreed Badger reluctantly. “But somehow it was all too easy. First, Wolf ate Rabbit for no apparent reason. Then we arrested him…”

  “What do you mean, ‘for no apparent reason’?” huffed Badgercat. “He’s a predator! That’s reason enough.”

  “He’s a predator, all right, but he isn’t a maniac. Over the course of many years he successfully controlled his thirst for blood. He ate mushrooms and didn’t murder any rabbits. So in order to murder Rabbit, he needed a motive. What was his motive?”

  “Motive?” Badgercat furrowed his brow.

  “Yes, motive,” said Badger sternly, stopping at the entrance of the Tree Knot Tavern. “A clear-cut reason that prompts a criminal to commit a crime. It makes the crime worthwhile. Who has something to gain from killing Rabbit?”

  “Wolf,” said Badgercat uncertainly.

  “No, Wolf has nothing to gain. Judge for yourself. Is it worth spending many years behind bars for one delicious meal? It’s very strange. Something doesn’t add up. You go ahead. I’d better go see Mrs. Rabbit and ask her a few questions.”

  “Why bother the widow again? She told us yesterday that Wolf threatened Rabbit,” said Badgercat, but Chief Badger had already scampered off.

  Badgercat looked after him, puzzled, shrugged, and walked into the tavern. Everyone greeted him with applause.

  “We’ve all heard the news!” howled Yote enthusiastically. “Congratulations on solving the case!”

  “How clever of you to catch Wolf in his lies!” smiled a young Fox sitting at the bar.

  “Ribbit! Sign up to hear all the latest, ribbit, news delivered right to your croak account!” croaked the frogs. “Sign up, ribbit, and you’ll be the first to know, ribbit, about all the crime and punishment, ribbit, in the Far Woods.”

  “Milk for the hero, on the house.” Yote placed a giant dish of milk in front of Badgercat. “And now some live splash ’n’ snap!”

  DJ Beaver loudly dove out of a nearby basin, showering the wooden stage in a fountain of water.

  “Bravo!” yelped Yote. “Leeet’s welcome DJ Beaver to the staaaage!”

  “Beaver! Beaver!” the patrons chanted, whistling and applauding.

  Coyote Yote handed the deejay a bundle of dry twigs. Beaver took a bow and placed the twigs in his mouth. Then he began jumping up and down in his basin, splashing out water, and rhythmically gnawing the twigs, covering the stage in wooden chips and shavings.

  Badgercat’s tail began to twitch reflexively to the music. His eyes were half closed, like they always were when he was lapping milk, and from somewhere deep inside of him—Badgercat himself didn’t quite understand from where but thought it probably originated in his stomach—came a purring that registered a level four of bliss.

  “Splash ’n’ snap!” howled Yote and was seized with horrible convulsions, which for some reason he considered dancing.

  Badgercat opened one eye and frowned. His purring quickly fell to a level zero of bliss—that’s to say it stopped completely. Something was off about Yote’s dancing. Something was off about Yote in general. Badgercat narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what it was. Overexcitement? No. The coyote was always a bit on edge. The convulsive jerking? Also no. That’s how he always danced. It was the joy—the pure joy that emanated from Yote’s every move—that bothered Badgercat. Badgercat pulled at his stiff whiskers. They were very sensitive. His whiskers could feel the space all around. His whiskers could feel danger. His whiskers could feel deceit. Suddenly he understood, and the fur on his scruff stood on end. He moved his dish of unfinished milk aside and motioned to Yote with his paw. The waiter immediately stopped his twitchy dancing and approached Badgercat’s table.

  “What would you like? Today, everything is on the house for the valiant police of the Far Woods!”

  “I’d like to ask you a question,” said Badgercat sternly. “The deceased, Rabbit, was a friend of yours, yes?”

  “Oh yes. Rabbit and I were best friends,” nodded Yote and looked away.

  “Then why are you so happy?” Badgercat’s pupils narrowed into two thin green lines. “Yesterday your best friend was devoured. You should be in mourning.”

  “I’m just happy the police caught the culprit,” whined Yote. “The cruel murderer who devoured my best friend! What? A coyote can’t be happy that justice was served?”

  CHAPTER 5: IN WHICH IT’S HARD TO LIVE WITHOUT A BREADWINNER

  “Would you like some cabbage juice?” asked Mrs. Rabbit in a trembling voice. Everything about Mrs. Rabbit trembled, not just her voice—the fur on her tail, her bleached eyelashes, her paws, and her pinkish, almost transparent ears.

  “I suppose a bit of cabbage juice wouldn’t hurt,” said Chief Badger.

  “Well, we don’t have any,” said Mrs. Rabbit defiantly. “No cabbage juice, no carrot juice—nothing. We’re poor. My rabbit kits are chronically lacking vitamins. And now that we’ve lost our dear”—she whimpered—“breadwinner. It’ll be the end of us. We’re starving. Our burrow isn’t heated, and it’s too small for this amount of children!” She motioned with a trembling paw toward a bassinet filled with squeaking balls of gray fur. Racing around it were squealing rabbit kits who were a bit older. “We’re doomed. Only a miracle can save our family.”

  “A miracle can save our family.” Badger heard Mrs. Rabbit’s voice coming from behind him, causing his whiskers and fur to stand on end because Mrs. Rabbit remained standing in front of him.

  “We’re doomed. Only a miracle…,” repeated the voice.

  Badger cautiously turned around. Behind him was something conical covered in a dark cloth.

  “Our burrow isn’t heated,” came Mrs. Rabbit’s voice from under the cloth.

  “What is that?” Chief Badger finally blurted out.

  “Not what, who,” Mrs. Rabbit corrected him, pulling at the cloth and revealing a cage. Inside it was a ruffled starling who stared curiously at Chief Badger.

  “You live in these cramped quarters with a starling?” asked Chief Badger.

  “We took the orphan in. So you think that just because we’re poor and unfortunate we can’t take in other unfortunate beings?”

  “I didn’t mean that…”

  “In fact,” interrupted Mrs. Rabbit, “psychologist Mouse says that if poor younglings of different species play together, it helps them all develop harmoniously.”

  “In these cramped quarters with a starling,” said the starling in Badger’s voice. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Incredible!” Badger approached the cage. “What amazing mimicking abilities!”

  “Yes, our Starling is very talented.”

  “Why is your talented Starling in a cage?”

  “We decided that, despite the close quarters, he deserves his own personal space,” said Mrs. Rabbit proudly.

  “Wh
y was his cage covered?”

  “What is this? An interrogation?”

  “It’s a friendly chat about this and that. I’m just curious why you need the cloth.”

  “This and that,” said Starling in Badger’s voice. “This and that, thisandthat, thisand, thatthisand, thatthis, andthatthis, andthat…”

  “The cage was covered so that he would be quiet for just a bit.” Mrs. Rabbit grabbed the cloth. “He talks less in the dark.”

  “Wait. Don’t cover him up,” requested Badger. “I’d like to talk to him.”

  “Talk to him,” repeated the starling. “Talk to him, talk…”

  “That’s impossible.” Mrs. Rabbit shook her head. “He’s only capable of repeating.”

  “That’s exactly what I need. You said that, not long before the murder, Wolf had come to your burrow and threatened your husband. Which means the starling should be able to repeat those threats.”

  “He should be able to,” said Mrs. Rabbit, putting her hands on her hips. “So you don’t believe me?”

  “No, no, it’s not that,” Badger reassured her. “It’s just that a rabbit’s memory is…well, it’s very complicated. You might think that you remember something very clearly, but in reality things didn’t happen exactly like that.”

  “A rabbit’s memory is actually very simple!” said Mrs. Rabbit irritably. “But since the police don’t believe me, go ahead. It’s easy to find Wolf’s threats using a few key words.” She turned to the starling and thought for a moment. “I’ll kill you,” said Mrs. Rabbit in a clear distinct voice.

  “I’ll kill yoouu!” said the starling, and Badger shuddered at the exactitude of Wolf’s voice coming from the bird. “If you do it again, I’ll kill you and won’t think twice about the laws of the Far Woods! If you do it again, I’ll kill you…”

  “Do what?” asked Badger.

  “Do what?” said the starling in Badger’s voice.

  “What was Wolf talking about? What did Rabbit do to Wolf?” asked Badger.

  “What did Rabbit do to Wolf?” repeated the starling.

 

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