Finnick finally got Mr Big on the phone ten o'clock that night. "I'm real sorry to bother you, sir…"
"I told you, you are family now." Mr Big sounded as menacing as ever but his words were encouraging. "What do you need?"
Finnick took a deep breath. "It's about the robbery at Arctic's Edibles."
"Ah." Mr Big's voice dropped. "You have information about the thief? I will be forever in your debt."
"Well…" The fox squirmed. "The fact is, I sort of wound up with your money. He didn't know it was yours and when he found out he asked me to give it back to you." He held his breath waiting for the shrew's reply.
"The thief is your friend?"
Finnick all but growled, "He ain't no friend of mine. Let's just say he came to me for help and I'd rather not see him get in any more trouble."
It was a long moment before Mr Big replied. "There is family, and there is business. If you make yourself responsible for the money, it will be business. You must return it or suffer the consequences. Is that truly what you wish?"
Now it was Finnick who paused. The smart thing to do would be to tell Mr Big about Duke and let nature take its course, and the fox sighed as he made his decision. "Yeah, I'll bring it back. I'll come by first thing in the morning."
"I will expect you for breakfast. Goodnight, my friend."
Finnick hung up the phone and weighed the briefcase in his paw, then locked it in the safe Judy had insisted on installing and headed upstairs. Five o'clock the next morning, he gave up trying to get any sleep and got up to make a cup of coffee, taking out the briefcase and eyeing it morosely. He could drive his van over to Mr Big's, but after he moved into a real apartment and started working such long hours, he hadn't found much use for the van. It would be three hours before the long term parking garage it was stored in opened, and he decided to call a cab instead. The dispatcher assured him the driver would be able to pick him up within ten minutes and he hung a Closed Today sign on the front door and headed out the back.
Whoever hit him moved so quietly Finnick never heard them coming. He woke up face down in the alley behind his garage with a splitting headache and a vague feeling that something was missing. The briefcase! He jumped to his feet and the resulting dizziness put him right back on the ground. He buried his face in his paws, shuddering. There is family, and there is business. If you make yourself responsible for the money, it will be business. You must return it or suffer the consequences.
"You okay, mister?"
Finnick looked up to see the cabbie he had called, a squirrel, eyeing him with a dubious expression. "Yeah, I'm just great." He got up more slowly than the last time and managed to stay on his feet.
"You don't look so good."
The fox felt his head and looked at his paw. Just a little lump and no blood, so whoever hit him must have used something soft and weighted, like a blackjack. "You just get here?" The squirrel nodded and Finnick asked hopefully, "You see who hit me?"
"I didn't see nothing, mister. I got the call to make a pickup in the alley so I came around the back and there you was."
Terrific. Finnick felt the lump on his head again, wincing. "Where's your cab?"
"You want I should take you to the doctor?"
The fox started to shake his head and a sharp pain made him stop. "No, there's someplace else I have to be."
