It was a Thursday afternoon, and sunny.
Nick thought it was a pretty odd time for Ed's schedule to be free. Even stranger still was the odd way in which his secretary phrased it.
"He'll be with other clients until then," Nick repeated that piece to himself while he rolled up his window with the crank, and shifted his clunker of a car into Park. "What does that even mean?"
The street was broad, newly paved, and the freshly mowed lawns of every home were still very green, despite the new season. Mansions loomed tall everywhere around him, miles outside of Downtown; this was the nice part of Zootopia, certainly wealthier than the nicest suburbia. The leaves of methodically placed oak trees twinkled in the sun, silhouetted under blankets of oranges, reds, and yellows. October was nearing its end.
Nick was surprised there were no gates to pass through, not even a fence, but, thankfully, the driveway was short. He walked by a stone face as large as a king bed, engraved with a fancy looking 'B', standing proudly, just at the end of the drive. The trek to the front door was uneventful and quiet, but pleasant. The whole way his furry, auburn feet crumpled leaves that were of the exact same color. He noticed the silver sports car too, the stolen one he and Judy had stopped, sitting outside the quadruple-door garage; it looked shined up and fixed. He found it increasingly difficult not to feel intimidated, almost forgetting he was an off-duty police officer.
He walked up a short flight of rustic-looking, red-brick stairs, and knocked on the doors — which were huge — in quick succession. Once again donning his trademark mask of stoicism, his game face, he waited. Something could be heard inside, a series of thumping, footsteps, getting louder as it approached the door.
Then it jerked open, and there stood a sharply dressed ram ready to meet him. The fox almost didn't recognize Ed.
"Nick," greeted the ram happily; his voice was different too, youthful, and his accent a little more proper and reserved. He gestured for the fox to come in, to which he complied. "Hey, good to see you."
"Hey Ed," Nick confidently replied as they shook paw and hoof. "So sorry about the other night. My partner was in a bit of a bind." He lied; he wasn't sorry at all.
The foyer was truly immense, brightly lit by an ornate chandelier, and the ceiling loomed high over their heads. Twin sets of spiraling staircases went up to an overlook on the second floor, and paintings were hung about on every wall. The home radiated a powerful sense of opulence, and its size seemed more fitting for elephants than sheep.
"Looks like you've fallen on hard times," Nick joked.
Ed laughed, though not as much as the fox had hoped for. He wore a casual, black suit, and started adjusting his cuff links. His puffy wool was almost bursting out at the seams, and his gold chain was missing. "You'd be surprised, Nick. This could all go in an instant if my family's not careful, and there are many who'd be thrilled to see that happen."
"You didn't mention that before," Nick said, trying to remember. "So, what exactly was that contract you sent to me in the mail? And why did you?—If you don't mind me asking."
"So eager," Ed grinned. "I like that. You're full of spunk for a fox, Nick, or are all foxes just like that?" He finished awkwardly fiddling with his links. "Sorry, I know this must look weird to you. I don't have too many friends left." That statement made the fur on the back of Nick's neck stand up. "To get right to the chase, Nick — I need your help."
"My help?" Nick asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah," Ed confirmed. "I have investors that I need to keep happy, otherwise we stand to lose everything. When my cousin, the former mayor, did what she did and put a stigma forever on the name Bellwether ... well, let's just say that things haven't been so great since then."
"Do you blame me for that?" Nick's feet fidgeted, stepping back away from the ram.
"Oh no, not at all." Ed shook his horned head again. "Someone would have figured it out sooner or later. Actually, if you hadn't uncovered her plot when you did, the damage to our reputation could have been that much worse — we would have never recovered."
Nick stood a little straighter, regaining a tiny shred of confidence. "That's good, I suppose."
"I'd say so," Ed admitted. "But tell me, Nick, have you ever performed on a stage before? Like a REAL stage, in front of a crowd full of people?"
"No," the fox said evenly.
"Would you like to?" Ed asked sharply. "Because, if you did, then we could potentially help each other out."
Nick's gaze wandered to an empty corner of the room as he thought, afraid of giving a straightforward answer. "I'm not sure, I don't really think I can play to that level yet."
Ed shrugged, and his suit jacket fell an inch. He placed a hoof on Nick's shoulders while he sulked. "C'mon, Officer Wilde," said the ram. "I have something I want to show you."
Nick followed the ram past the foyer, past a kitchen full of glossy, granite countertops, with the smell of coffee and sweets filling his nostrils. It was wonderful. His enjoyment was cut short as they entered the next room, overlooking a long, blue swimming pool in the backyard. The windows were taller than both of them, swallowing up three of the four walls, bathing the room in soft, afternoon sunlight. And quietly sitting there, dominating the room with its presence, was the largest piano Nick had ever laid eyes on.
He couldn't steal his eyes away.
"Woah," said the fox as he exhaled; he was almost afraid to approach it. "It's beautiful."
Ed confidently meandered over to the instrument and pretended to inspect it, taking great pleasure in witnessing Nick's reaction. The fox followed suit, tiptoeing his way around it, nervous to lay even a single claw on it. The wood was a glossy jet black, almost like it had been shaped from volcanic glass.
The ram pulled out something from his left coat pocket, which Nick noticed, and handed it to the bewildered fox. "Tell me, what do you think of this setlist, Nick?"
The white piece of paper was folded twice, neatly, and Nick noisily straightened it out. He read it over, his features remaining expressionless; it was Ed's turn to be confused.
"Anything you want to add?" he asked.
"Maybe two things," said Nick after several seconds, sarcastic.
"Name it," Ed said in all seriousness. "Anything you want, but can you play everything on the list?"
The fox tilted his head while he scanned it, buried in thought, weighing his own skill versus what was being demanded of him. It was an unexpected question. The names and pieces on the list would require a professional orchestra, and an even more professional pianist.
"When?" Nick asked, sounding apprehensive.
"About a month from now."
"Do you have the music?"
"Yes."
"And what about the other parts?"
"Leave that to me," Ed affirmed.
"Where?" Nick started to fold the paper back up and placed it in the pocket of his green shirt.
"The Opera House, Downtown," Ed looked surprised. "I thought I put that in the document."
"You barely gave any specifics," Nick quipped. "Other than that you required my 'services', I was completely in the dark about any of this. I had no idea that place was even open to the public. It's had scaffolding around it for years."
"You're right, it's not open," said Ed, nodding. "Not yet anyway, but it will be. I bought it recently."
"What?" Nick winced. "I thought you were in trouble with money. How could you—"
"Like I said earlier, Nick," the ram smiled as he interrupted. "My investors; I have to make wise decisions, or they pull out. That's our arrangement. It's what I studied at the school of commerce, and I'm very good at it. My family's been doing this for generations, while also dabbling in politics here and there, and sometimes we do afford some criticism — we hear the term 'conflict of interest' thrown around occasionally. But that's the dishonest side of the family." He placed a hoof on the piano, now ignoring it, looking the fox dead in the eye. "You were a decision I made, Nick; you're a predator, a police officer, and I think a wonderful player ... so, I'm taking a chance on you."
Nick's heart was giving him mixed signals, churning around in his chest. He wasn't quite sure this is what he wanted, as if the weight of the world was being thrust upon his shoulders, and his mouth began to feel watery.
And he remembered Judy.
"No pressure, Ed," he joked again, casually brushing off the knot in his stomach. The ram could tell he was still unconvinced.
He then felt the inside of his black coat, the right side this time, looking for something, and finally pulled out a stack of green. Ed wordlessly gave the bundle of money over to Nick. The fox cautiously accepted it and flipped over the neatly wrapped bills in his paws, eyeing them closely, nearly speechless.
"This is ..." Nick searched for the words as he inspected, "... this is like six month's pay. I can't take this."
"Nonsense — just consider it advance," Ed smirked. "Or, compensation for meeting with me today. Whichever you prefer. You can keep all of it even if you decline my offer, and I will never expect to be reimbursed. Although, I think it would be a great loss to the people of Zootopia to lose out on a talent such as yourself."
"Lose out?" the fox asked.
"Nick," Ed stifled a laugh, motioning for them both to leave. "Let me tell you a story."