O’Malley did not seem impressed. “Hmphh. I don’t see what’s so special about him. I went to high school with the guy, and knew him long before he went by the name Chase Mercy.”
“Wait. That’s not his real name?” Zengo’s legions of action figures, piles of posters, and stacks of DVDs flashed across his mind, all of them emblazoned with the name Chase Mercy. Could this be true? “What is it, then?”
Before O’Malley could respond, Plazinski’s door flew open. The sound of the door hitting the wall made everybody in the office jump—even Peggy, though she jumped a few seconds after everyone else.
“O’Malley! Zengo! Diaz! Lucinni!” Plazinski bellowed. “In my office, now!”
O’Malley was already standing and buttoning his sports coat. Zengo would have to wait for the inside scoop on Chase Mercy.
SERGEANT PLAZINSKI’S OFFICE, 8:00 A.M.
Plazinski motioned for his detectives to sit. The four platypuses did as they were told, huddling on the uncomfortable orange plastic chairs around Plazinski’s desk. The sergeant sat down in his own chair, rolled up his sleeves, and brushed the sweat off his brow.
“Well, my friends, we have a heck of a situation on our hands. I’ve spoken to the mayor’s office. They have assured me that the disaster at the Kalamazoo City Dome last night was nothing but a simple series of opening-day snafus.”
“And you believe them?” Zengo asked.
“That’s the official story. But the public won’t feel safe until they have some real answers on what went down.” Plazinski played with a pen on his desk. “O’Malley, I saw your daughter on the news this morning. I assume she’s okay?”
O’Malley sat up in his chair. “Yes, she is. Thank you, sir.”
“I read her statement. She saw something odd, didn’t she?”
Zengo was impressed. The sarge had already read the pile of paperwork on Peggy’s desk. What time had he gotten to work that morning?
“Well, sort of,” said O’Malley. “While she was stuck at the top of the sKCy Scraper, she caught a glimpse of what looked like a small boat departing at the northeast corner of the Dome.”
“Interesting. That’s near where the fireworks display was housed.” Plazinski glanced out the window. “We’re lucky no lives were lost.” He reached into his drawer and slapped some papers on his desk. “I’ve already requisitioned some search warrants. I want you four to head down to the Dome and see if there are any signs of foul play. I advised the mayor to close the Dome for a bit, but he won’t give us very much time. He wants to reopen as soon as possible. Our city needs the Dome to be a success. And never mind ticket sales—if it’s not perceived to be safe, Chase Mercy and his film crew won’t be coming to town.”
“Why would someone want to jeopardize the film shoot?” Diaz asked.
“Maybe somebody from Walhalla?” Zengo offered immediately.
“What?” Plazinski barked. “Rookie, you going to tell us where that theory is coming from?”
Rookie again. It was as if his theories didn’t even matter. “Sir, the engineer who built the dome is from Walhalla. The tourism guru is from Walhalla. And the contractor? He isn’t from Kalamazoo City, either.”
“An interesting set of coincidences, I suppose,” said Plazinski. “But coincidences don’t prove anything. Sure, we’ve got a long-standing rivalry with Walhalla. But our two towns settle their differences on the baseball field. Before anyone accuses folks from Walhalla of plotting against our fair city to the tune of putting lives in danger, I want to see some concrete leads. Put your bills to the ground and sweep your tails around that Dome. All of you. Now, go! Get out of my office ten minutes ago!”
Diaz and Lucinni pounded fists and made for the door. But as O’Malley left their boss’s office, Plazinski stopped him. Zengo hung back too.
“Hey, even though your kid was there last night, don’t let any of this get personal.”
“I won’t, Sarge.”
Plazinski looked at Zengo, and he nodded as well. “All right, get moving.”
THE KALAMAZOO CITY DOME, 9:20 A.M.
“Sorry, we’re not open yet.” The security guard’s voice crackled over the speaker on the front gate. O’Malley was not amused.
He pressed the buzzer again, and held up his badge and the warrant to the security camera. “Platypus Police Squad. We have a warrant. Open this dang gate!”
The gate swung open and Zengo entered with O’Malley by his side, and Diaz and Lucinni just behind.
Zengo was instantly awestruck. The place was unbelievable. He had never seen so many different rides, and such incredibly cool ones. Whether everything behind the scenes and under the hood was up to snuff, he had no idea. But he had to admit the first impression was pretty impressive.
Even so, it was eerie to be in this vast building with just the other three detectives—especially given what had gone down the night before. If Zengo had not had an early a.m. shift, he probably would have been one of the first in line on opening night. Of course, if he been there, he would definitely have been able to keep everyone calm. Zengo imagined himself leading everyone to safety as if he were in a Chase Mercy movie himself.
O’Malley didn’t waste any time. “All right, guys, Zengo and I will scope out the main grounds. Diaz, Lucinni—you guys go check the administration offices on the west side of the park. See if you can chat up any security guards.”
“Hey, Diaz, look, it’s Mayor Saunders himself,” scoffed Lucinni. “What gives you the right to hand out these orders, O’Malley?”
Diaz snickered and opened his bill to add to the ribbing, but before he could, O’Malley turned on them with a glare so fierce that it stopped them dead in their tracks, even though he was about a foot shorter than either of them.
“Get to gettin’, Detectives,” he said.
“All right, all right. Come on, Diaz.” Lucinni grabbed his partner by the arm and they waddled off.
Zengo liked seeing his partner throw his weight around—especially since the anger was not directed at him. He and O’Malley walked down the Dome’s main street, a bright-green stripe painted down the center of the complex. Smaller avenues shot off from each side, leading to a wealth of attractions.
Kiddy Land, a section for the youngest of Kalamazooians, was painted with vibrant colors. Zengo thought that it would have been the end-all of awesomeness if you were a kid. A ride labeled THE LADYBUG swirled little ladybuglike cars around in circles. Another, called the Whaler, was a miniature boat ride where the passengers were sprayed by an animatronic whale. Zengo thought he would have most enjoyed the Mosquito, a miniature roller coaster that couldn’t have been eight feet off the ground. Adjacent to the kid-centric section was a giant arcade that was filled with both the newest video games for the younger kids, but also some vintage eight-bit cabinets for the older gamers. Zengo felt the quarters burning holes in his pocket, and his thumbs twitched, but he knew now was not the time to get his game on, even if he could easily throw his initials up on Quack-Man’s high-score board.
Everywhere you looked, there was some sort of ride or concession stand. A person could drop fifty bucks in less than twenty minutes. No wonder the mayor promised increased revenues for the city. It was still early in the morning, but Zengo salivated at the thought of how delicious the fried cupcakes must taste.
“This really would be the perfect setting for a Chase Mercy movie.” Zengo imagined the action star jumping off of the roller-coaster tracks, doing backflips, and chucking boomerangs at the bad guys.
O’Malley rolled his eyes. At least Zengo figured that was what he was doing behind those sunglasses of his. “You mean Chadwick Mickleheimer.”
“You’re serious?” said Zengo. “Chadwick Mickleheimer? Really? You said you knew him in high school?”
“Oh yeah. His older brother was my best friend. He and I were both on the Kal East football team back in the day.”
“Was Chase on the team too?”
“Nope. His brother, Andre
w, was a great guy and a great teammate, but Chadwick, to be honest . . .” O’Malley shook his head. “Let’s just say he wasn’t built for football. Or for anything else, really. He usually just kept to himself, always refused to hang out with Drew and me. Everyone called him Squirt, if I remember right.”
Zengo couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but at that moment something else caught his attention. “Hey, look!”
They had come to a sign that pointed to an attraction called the “Kalamazoo City River of Dreams.” A miniature replica of the Kalamazoo City skyline rose up before them—it was all there, every detail of the city they loved, meticulously recreated. In all of the chaos last night, somebody had forgotten to turn the ride off. Boats turned the corner of a man-made river and ran along a track that disappeared into a small opening underneath a miniature of Pandini Tower.
“Want to take a spin?” said Zengo. “You know, look for clues?”
“Hmm. Not sure if you’re old enough to ride, slugger,” chuckled O’Malley.
“Actually, you need to be this tall to ride,” quipped Zengo as he pointed to the height requirement next to the ride, only a few inches below O’Malley’s head. “On your tiptoes, you just make it. Come on, let’s jump into one of these boats.”
“I was actually saving all of my fingerprint dust for the horsies over on the merry-go-round,” sneered O’Malley.
“Aw, come on, partner,” said Zengo. “Plazinski wants us to leave no stone unturned.”
“You go ahead, kid,” said O’Malley. “I want to inspect the Ferris wheel.”
“Suit yourself,” Zengo said. Then he called over his shoulder. “Remember what the sergeant said—don’t let this get personal.”
O’Malley took off his sunglasses. “That little piece of wisdom goes for us both, partner.” Zengo followed O’Malley’s eyes to a line written on the sign beneath the ride’s title: PAID FOR BY THE GENEROUS SUPPORT OF PANDINI ENTERPRISES. “You go ahead and jump on one of those boats—that is, if you can deal with those raging rapids. I’m going to move along on foot.”
O’Malley left before Zengo could come up with a halfway decent comeback to O’Malley’s jab about Zengo’s permanent suspicion of Frank Pandini Jr.—and his fear of water.
Zengo jumped aboard a tiny blue boat as it turned the corner, bumping his knees up against the safety guard as he did. He was carried into the ride. The temperature dropped about twenty degrees. The junior detective was enveloped in pure darkness as he floated past the entrance. Sounds of dinosaurs filtered in from either side, followed by a large explosion. Then a sliver of light illuminated a caveplatypus grunting atop a rock formation. The animatronic looked so lifelike, Zengo thought the figure banging rocks together would suddenly turn and look at him. The Neanderthal worked furiously, banging rocks on top of a pile of fallen tree branches. Soon a spark flickered and the pile turned into a flame. Orchestral music dramatically filled the room, and a deep, gravelly voice began to narrate. “Welcome to the Kalamazoo City River of Dreams. On this voyage, you will witness the marvels that this city has brought the world. It is home to many inventions that have helped define civilization, including the invention of fire.”
Zengo hardly believed that was true. But the voice sounded so confident and . . . familiar. Zengo listened intently as the narration continued. Who was it?
“From the dawn of time to the days of the early settlers, this land was rich with resources. Even the visionary pioneers who founded what we now call Kalamazoo City could never have imagined the boundless riches that this fine city would cultivate. Sir Calvin Kalamazoo claimed this territory as his own and constructed the first few buildings. Many followed Sir Kalamazoo’s lead, and soon our beautiful town began to grow.”
He finally recognized the voice—it was Chase Mercy.
Zengo sailed past a menagerie of early settlers constructing homes, building churches, and engineering bridges. “During the industrial revolution, the citizens of Kalamazoo City embraced the changing times and shifted their industry from farming to manufacturing.”
As his boat chugged along, a roomful of similarly dressed animals worked on machines to create wind-up toys. “Yes, the windup toy, a cheery distraction for youth worldwide, was invented here in Kalamazoo City!”
Looming ahead was what looked like a skeleton of the Kalamazoo City skyline. “In the early 1900s, the population of Kalamazoo City grew exponentially. No longer did the citizens look outward to settle, but upward! Skyscrapers were all the rage, and we were among the first in the country to build these magnificent structures. All the entrepreneurs in town, along with their architects of choice, raced to outdo one another—in both style and altitude.
“Of course, Kalamazoo City has had its dark days. Frank Pandini, one of the most nefarious crime lords in the nation’s history, made his home right here in Kalamazoo.” Zengo’s fur stood on end as he examined the animatronic Frank Pandini. The family resemblance between him and his son, billionaire and man-about-town Frank Pandini Jr., was uncanny. Zengo remembered with mixed feelings his first case as a Platypus Police Squad detective, when he had suspected Frank Jr. of being behind a string of illegal fish deals. Though he was cleared of all charges, Zengo still didn’t completely trust him.
Chase Mercy’s voice continued. “Mr. Frank Pandini’s ring of crime terrorized the city until he was taken down by Lieutenant Andrew Dailey of the Platypus Police Squad.”
Zengo’s eyes welled up. His breath caught. The robotic statue of his dearly departed grandfather was so realistic that Zengo wanted to jump out of the boat to visit with him. Over the music, his grandfather began to speak about his quest to protect the city and leave it a better place than he found it. But something was wrong. The movement of his grandfather’s bill didn’t match the sound playing from the speakers. It made his grandpa seem like nothing more than a cheesy attraction.
The voice of Chase Mercy cut through the family reunion. “Dailey’s hard work and bravery sent Pandini to prison, but that didn’t save the brave platypus from the mob boss’s claws. The corrupt kingpin lived out his remaining days behind bars, but he still ran Kalamazoo City with a thirst for vengeance and fury. Tragically, Lieutenant Dailey was taken out while on a routine inspection of downtown businesses. While Frank Pandini Sr. was undoubtedly behind the murder, the actual culprits were never caught.”
Tears welled up in Zengo’s eyes, and he might have begun to cry if the little blue boat hadn’t moved past this sad scene.
“Pandini’s notorious legacy, however, has been atoned for by his son, Frank Pandini Jr., one of the most brilliant businessmen and generous philanthropists the city has ever known. After making his fortunes through legitimate real-estate deals, Frank Jr. has returned to Kalamazoo City and constructed the crown jewel of the downtown skyline—Pandini Tower. Situated in the center of town, this sparkling edifice is one of the tallest and most impressive buildings in the world.”
The music shifted to a peppier tune as the boat turned a corner. “Kalamazoo is also the home of the planet’s most daring action star—me, Chase Mercy!” Zengo found himself face-to-face with a life-size Chase Mercy. Hands on his hips, a dangerous glint in his eye, the animatronic Chase wore his signature Spy Masterson tuxedo and looked as heroic as he ever had in his movies. But all Zengo could think about was squirt. That wasn’t so different from rookie. He knew how Chase probably felt.
“A new era is upon us here in Kalamazoo City. During Mayor Saunders’s tenure, the city has witnessed unparalleled growth, leading to the triumph that is the Kalamazoo City Dome, one of the nation’s foremost tourist attractions. Kalamazoo may already have a long and distinguished history, but this is truly just the beginning.”
The ride ended with a coronet fanfare. Zengo jumped off the boat as soon as it came to a stop, and grabbed his radio. He had an idea, and he wanted to run it by his partner right away.
“O’Malley, come in, O’Malley.” Zengo looked from left to right for any sign of his partner
as his radio crackled to life.
“Yeah, rook. I’m here.”
Zengo huffed over the rookie comment. He was really getting sick of this. “O’Malley, I just had a thought. Frank Pandini Jr. can’t be too happy with how his father was depicted in this river ride, especially considering the fact that he paid for it. I think we should check out his alibi for last night, see if we can find his paw prints in the disaster.”
“Sounds like you’re letting your feet get ahead of your skis, kid,” said O’Malley. “Remember the last time you accused him of a crime like this?”
“O’Malley, open your eyes! Can’t you see his motivation here?”
“My eyes are open, kid. And they’re looking at Mr. Pandini right now.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, kid, I’ve just had an interesting conversation with the man. I think you should come by the sKCy Scraper to hear what he has to say.”
Zengo brought the radio closer to his bill and whispered, “He heard everything I just said, didn’t he?”
“Every single word, rookie.”
THE SKCY SCRAPER, 9:50 A.M.
Frank Pandini Jr. filed his claws as he accepted Zengo’s babbled attempt at an explanation.
“There is no need to apologize,” said Pandini as he placed the emery board back into his inner jacket pocket. “I appreciate your thoroughness, Detective.”
“Mr. Pandini is here today to take a look around the grounds of the Dome,” said O’Malley, in an obvious attempt to defuse the tension.
Zengo wondered how Pandini managed to get past the gates. Even the badge-carrying Platypus Police Squad had needed search warrants. But he supposed all doors in this city were open to Pandini.
Platypus Police Squad : The Ostrich Conspiracy (9780062071675) Page 2