Hello Readers,
Nice and easy chapter this time for A Weasels Watch. Expect a much longer chapter next week. Criticism always welcome and enjoy!
-CG
Reggie fidgeted in the cruiser passenger seat, his seat belt adding to the uncomfortably of his dress uniform. "Why do I need to go in this?" lamented the Weasel as he pulled at the tight, dark blue material, "my duty uniform would have been fine!"
"Supposed to make you look more professional, kind of like why they allow the accused to wear suits at the trial," responded Wilde, his eyes on the road, "course we both know that's futile in your case."
Reggie snorted and glanced at the Fox, "Personal experience?"
The older officer grinned, "Never as the accused, but I did play the part of lawyer once."
Reggie rolled his eyes and watched the scenery pass by quietly. The mustela had been called as a witness to the Dustbowl Avenue bank robbery. Apparently the "questionable" method of taking down the accused was being argued as Police Brutality. When the young officer had first heard this, he laughed. Then he became slightly insulted. It wasn't like they beat them with bricks and pipes, they used their own physical bodies. The Chief had assured the Weasel that this was simply normal court tactic, but that didn't make it right.
"What the rutt they want us to do, wait for that Rhino to run out of bullets?"
The mustela sighed and ran a paw over his eyes. He couldn't believe that the crime was only months ago as it felt like years had passed. Reggie was a different officer since that incident. Sure he was still the same angry, stubborn, still has some murderous intent Weasel at the time, but now he had friends and a girlfriend. His life had gotten so much better, even if it had to get so much director get there first.
The courthouse came into view and Wilde pulled the cruiser to a stop. "Time for school Q-Tip! Now don't forget your lunch." Reggie glared at the smug Fox. "Don't give me that look little mam," the vulpine continued to tease, rapping a knuckle on the Weasel's shoulder, "How about we get a pawsicle afterwards. Ok?"
"I hope you get your tail stuck in the door." deadpanned Reggie. He opened the cruiser door and slid out. The Weasel turned and called out, "Have fun with Wolfowitz today. I bet you'll just love his opinion on Fur Trek."
"He's in for a rude awakening!" replied Wilde with a smile, "I'm a Star Boars fan."
The mustela chuckled and rolled his eyes. He gave a quick salute to his partner and closed the door. The Courthouse was made of grey granite, large columns supporting the front. On top of the triangle roof of the building was a large bronze set of scales balanced evenly. The Weasel huffed as he climbed the small set of stairs as he stared at the roof. In the young officer's experience, justice wasn't always balanced, and mammals didn't seem to mind tipping the scales in their favor. He knew the importance of following regulations was to keep everything legal and smooth out the process, but the reason for him being called to trial was regulations not keeping up with the times.
"Hopefully the Chief will fix that," Reggie thought, "I can't keep coming here every time I make an 'Assisted Arrest.'"
What also chafed the young officer, other than his too tight Dress blues, was that today was supposed to be his first day back on the beat. After passing the physical, he had been looking forward to this day. It was pulled out from under him because of some slam dunk case needed even more proof of no wrongdoing. Reggie pulled at the collar of his shirt before fixing it, grumbling under his breath as he reached the small mammals' door. "...Should have broken something on the Cheetah," he muttered darkly, "Then they would have reason to complain, but nooo a Cheetah got beat by throwing a Weasel and All of a sudden he can't handle it anymore..." He yanked the handle to the courthouse door and stepped through, Reggie's mood deteriorating with each step.
The young officer was sitting on the witness stand, the hippo judge to his right, looking out onto the small courtroom. The seats were abandoned, no family for the defendants and only two journalists in the back typing away their notes. The ticking of the stenographer echoed off the walls as a Weasel in a tailored suit sauntered from his place at the defense table towards Reggie. The older mustela's fur was groomed to perfection, his claws shined and trimmed and his smile showed all of his teeth. Reggie had never seen a shark up close, but he imagined that it would be something like this.
The officer had heard of the defense lawyer, a smart mustela named Nathaniel Wezaill, also known as Tricky Nat. The lawyer was rumored to be extremely underpawed, with witnesses sometimes disappearing or refusing to testify once trial began. He was known for defending the worst of the worst, but only the richest of them. It seemed to Reggie that this could have been a Pro-bono case for the seasoned attorney. The Rhino, Cheetah and Wallaby watched their lawyer carefully as he approach the other mustela.
"Mister Weaselton-"
"Officer." interrupted Reggie.
"I'm sorry?" asked the lawyer, his smile never wavering.
"It's Officer Weaselton," emphasized the young mustela, "Not Mister."
"My apologies," the lawyer said unapologetically, "Officer Weaselton. You testified that you saw my clients robbing the bank, with one holding a gun. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Yet, you also testified that the streets were filled with civilians running out of this 'supposed gunfire,'" the older Weasel air quoted with his digits. He turned his back to Reggie and walked towards the Prosecution's table, a scowling Muntjac Assistant District Attorney watching his every move. "You also mentioned that you and your partner, Officer Hopps, were out of the recommended range for your tranquilizers, is that correct?"
"Yes."
The lawyer folded his paws behind his back, still facing away from Reggie, and continued his questioning. "What is the recommended range?"
Reggie shrugged, "About one hundred feet."
The older mustela turned dramatically, tail whipping behind him, "One hundred feet!"
"Uh..." Reggie glanced at the Prosecutor who seemed just as confused as he was, "...Yes?"
"So your telling me, that you were able to see through stampeding mammals over the distance of one hundred feet and were able make out my clients supposedly by their backs!"
"Well not just their backs," corrected the officer, "Mister Alquarn did turn and point the gun at me."
"Allegedly!" retorted the Wezaill with a raised claw, "Allegedly it was my client, yet by your own statement you were only halfway to the suspects, which would have been fifty feet and were looking at his face." The lawyer leaned against the witness stand, "Or were you looking at the gun?"
Reggie balked, "You mean the gun your client was holding?"
"No, I mean the gun the suspect was holding," retorted the suited mustela. He pushed off the stand and walked back into the middle of the room, "Would you consider yourself a violent mammal, Officer?"
"Objection!" shouted the Muntjac with a raised hoof, "Relevance?"
"Your honor I promise this has a point," begged the defense attorney.
The hippo frowned, a hoof rubbing his chin, "I'll allow it for now, but get to your point Mister Wezaill."
"Thank you, your honor." replied the Weasel with a slight bow. He turned his gaze back to Reggie. "Would you like me to repeat the question?"
The officer frowned, "When I need to be."
"Yes or no, please."
Reggie's frown deepened, "Well then...no."
"Are you sure-I'll rephrase!" The last part was added with a paw raised towards the Prosecution, who had stood up. "Considering the facts that you admit to being at least one hundred feet away from the suspects, their backs turned to you and a stampede of mammals rushing past, is it not possible that you found three mammals that looked suspicious and decided they were the guilty part?"
"No I-"
"Isn't it also possible that you and the Z.P.D's rush to judgment, as well as your past documented physical altercations is what swayed you to injure an innocent bystander who was trying to get away?!"
"He was fleeing the scene!" responded the officer heatedly, "and I have only gotten into altercations with those committing crimes."
The lawyer's smile grew predatory as his tail bounced behind him, "Is that a fact?" The older mustela rushed back to his table and grabbed a manila folder. "Your honor I would like to submit into evidence documents six, seven and eight."
"Objection your honor!" The Muntjac stood, "You already ruled this evidence inadmissible to this trial."
"Your honor this shows a clear pattern of abuse!" cried the Weasel.
"Except that all of those reports are from after the arrest of the defendants and therefore have no relevancy to this trial!"
The hippo banged the gavel twice. "That's enough," commanded the judge, "Mister Wezaill I warned you about trying to sneak this information into the trial as it would be prejudicial. My decision stills stands and the objection is sustained."
There was a twitch in the mustela lips, if Reggie wasn't mistaken it may have been the start of a frown. Still the defense attorney's smile returned, "Officer Weaselton...I would like to discuss you and Officer Jackson's...unusual procedure for arresting my client."
The officer sighed internally, hoping this would be over soon.
Reggie was exhausted; who knew testifying could be so draining? The Weasel was sitting on a large mammal wooden bench, slouching against the back as his hind paws were well off the ground. "Well that sucked," murmured the mustela. The sound of chuckling next to the young officer had him glancing at his companion.
Sitting next to the small mammal was Officer Jackson dressed officially as well. The bench was made for mammals the Tiger's side, so the officer was leaning against the armrest with his head in a paw. A lazy smile and half lidded eyes accompanied the feline's mirth. "Yeah...cases are never easy when you're accused of stepping over the line." He glanced over at the smaller mammal, "Course when that line hasn't been drawn..."
"What was the point of some of the questions?" bemoaned the Weasel.
"Defense has to make it seem like their clients are innocent. Their job is to prove reasonable doubt, and Wezaill is one of the best at that."
He glanced around the mostly abandoned hallway. Granite was still visible, but there was veneer of marble on some of the surfaces of the support columns and bronze coverings for the vents. Add in all the wooden furniture and wide open windows, all barred from the inside, and the young officer couldn't help but feel like he stepped back in time. The Weasel frowned as his gaze remained unfocused looking forward, "Do you think they'll be convicted?"
"Camera footage, paw and hoof prints on the weapons, and more than enough eye witness to prove more than one mammal saw them...I think so...but I've seen stranger things..."
Reggie frowned, "That doesn't sound reassuring."
Jackson laughed, "The justice system isn't about being reassuring, but being right. 'Better that ten guilty go free than one innocent suffer...' or something like that."
"Who said that safe advice?" scoffed the mustela.
"William Blackclaw a long time ago," responded the feline. He frowned and glanced at the Weasel, "You disagree?"
"I've seen what happens when the guilty are free," muttered the young officer darkly, "And it's never pretty."
"That's why It's important for us to get it right," replied the Tiger. He smiled reassuringly, "And we definitely did this time around. Old Wezaill had to pull some dirty moves just to make them look innocent."
"Nothing dirty," a smooth voice said, "Just my job." Reggie glanced to see Wezaill walking towards them, a studded briefcase in paw and smug grin in place. "Officer Weaselton," started the older mustela, "I'm glad to finally make your acquaintance." He held out his paw for the officer, but Reggie simply laid there, suspicion rooting him in place. Wezaill chuckled and dropped his paw, "Not one for niceties I see. No matter...it's good to see more Weasels enforcing the law."
Reggie pushed up, rising to his elbows, "Is that what you call what you did? Enforcing the law?"
"Everyone has a right to legal representation," responded Wezaill pointedly, his grin disappearing, "I thought that they covered that in the Academy." He chuckled and smirked, "Who am I kidding? The evidence is overwhelming against my clients. Officer Jackson, how long has the jury been deliberating?"
"Roughly three hours," gruffly replied the Tiger, "Probably wanted to make sure they got the free lunch."
"No doubt about that." He reached into jacket. Reggie reacted and bolted up, paw going to his empty side. The lawyer chuckled and shook his head, "Not very trust are you?" He flicked a business card into the officer's chest. "If you ever get bored...or find the force isn't for you...give me a call."
Reggie picked the card which had fallen into his lap. It was white card that simply read "Nathaniel Wezaill Defense Counsel" and a number underneath, no address or any form of noticeable marking. Before the Weasel could rip up the offending scrap of paper, the orange and black paw of Jackson snatched it from him.
"Weaselton's sticking around," Jackson spoke, a slight growl in his throat, "unlike you, he justice."
"Officer Jackson, you wound me!" The lawyer placed a delicate paw above his chest and mockingly sighed in anguish, "Truly this is Police Brutality."
"Your talking to a Weasel with a pattern of abuse," remarked Reggie, his gaze hardening on the other mustela, "Maybe reconsider your words."
Wezaill grinned, "I should get back to my clients, they need help planning their next move once they're free from this trial." The lawyer turned away from the two, but stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Send my regards to Duchess."
The young officer went to move, but was stopped by a larger paw. "Don't worry Weaselton." growled Jackson, "Everyone gets what's coming to them eventually."
"Yeah..." Reggie replied, running a paw over his eyes, "I just wish his was today..."
"Who knows?" the Tiger chuckled, "Day's not over yet."
The Weasel tried to smile, but simply grimaced. He watched the lawyer continue down the hallway until he turned a corner. It was only then could Reggie breathe again.
Reggie was waiting outside with Jackson. A Guilty verdict on all counts came back and the Weasel was happy that justice had been served. The two officers were waiting for their ride, which was running late. "What the rutt is keeping Wolfowitz and Wilde?" The mustela frowned, "Bet it's something stupid, like Wilde got his tail caught in the cruiser door."
The Tiger hummed in thought, "My guess...last minute coffee run."
"It's almost time to clock out, why would they need coffee?"
"Oh it has nothing to do with coffee," Jackson smugly responded, "Witz has been talking up a barista in Sahara Square for the last month or so." He chuckled and shook his head, "Dunno why he doesn't just ask her out."
There was a pause, and the young officer had a feeling what was coming next. "So you're dating a raccoon?" There it was. Reggie sighed and rubbed the side of his muzzle, "Yep...any other questions?"
The feline chuckled, "Getting a lot of this, huh?"
"Annoyingly so," grumbled the Weasel, "I can't tell if mammals are trying to be supporting or are really that interested in my relationship."
"I'd say a mixture of both. Take it with a grain of salt, it won't last much longer." The Tiger sighed contentedly, "Soon you'll be old news and a crime wave will strike or Gazelle will drop a new album and Clawhauser will start talking about that."
Reggie glanced suspiciously at the feline, "So you have no real interest?"
"Just trying to make conversation Weaselton," Jackson looked down and grinned at the small mammal, "unless you wanna talk Fur Trek. I could talk about that all day."
The Weasel winced, "Uh, no thanks." The Tiger laughed and Reggie smiled. His mirth lasted until he saw a red small mammal sports car pull up. Driving was Wezaill, smile in place and eyes now hidden by a pair of black shades.
"Miss the bus boys?" called the lawyer, "I'd offer you a ride, but there's only room for one." A shadow fell over the smaller car, drawing the older Weasel's attention.
"Natty, are you messing with my associates?" teased Wilde, hanging out the passenger side window of a large mammal cruiser. The Fox's aviators and signature smile firmly in place.
"Not at all Nicky," replied Wezaill, his body tense and tail flicking up and down, "Was simply offering these fine gentlemammals a ride!"
"Sorry pal, these two prefer something more reliable and less..." the vulpine officer tilted his glasses down and swepted his gaze over the sports car, "...gimmicky. There's nothimg worse than a con without style."
"And those flashing lights on top are so subtle. I'm surprised the Z.P.D. is noticed at all!"
"Did you hear that Nat?" Wilde questioned, cupping a paw to a perked ear, "It sounds like an ambulance that needs chasing." The Fox waved flippantly at the older Weasel, "Now run along before I tell Dutch your giving her nephew a hard time."
"See you around Nicky," Wezaill smugly responded, "We both know it's only a matter of time before I'm defending you."
"Wouldn't hold your breath Natty, hasn't happened yet. Now get out of here before I write you up for illegally parking." The two mammals eyes were hidden behind their respective glasses, but it was obvious to all that they were staring each other down as Wezaill drove away. The Fox clapped his paws together and spoke over enthusiastically. "Well that was fun! Now get in so we can get out!"
Jackson laughed and Reggie smiled while shaking his head. Fake or not, his partner had a point. The well dressed officers moved to the back of the cruiser, the Tiger opening the door and Reggie climbing in first. Being in his dress uniform meant that the actual climb was more difficult than usual, with the young officer doing his best not to dirty the outfit. Finally, after more of a struggle than normal, the Weasel made it into his seat, the metal grate separating the mustela from the front. "Wolfowitz," started Reggie, drawing the White Wolf's attention, "How bad was today?"
The lupine officer groaned, his head falling to the steering wheel, "How do you put up with him every single day?"
"Bodily threats," commented the Weasel nonchalantly, "and the promise to fulfill them."
"You gotta catch me first cue," Wilde replied, pulling his avaitors down to wink at the smaller mammal, "and frankly that Forty time of yours is pathetic."
"Whose forty?" asked Jackson as he sat in the cruiser, closing the door as he settled.
"Just Weaselton slowing down and letting this old mammal beat him in a race."
"It wasn't a race," defended Reggie with arms folded, glaring daggers at the Fox, "You said 'Hey let's race' and then pushed me as you sped off down the sidewalk."
"Sounds like a race to me!" joked the Wolf.
"Hey Wolfowitz, Jackson told me he likes that guy you like. You know on Fur Trek."
"I did not!" protested the feline.
"So he finally admits it," the lupine gloated with a wide grin, catching Reggie's gaze in the rearview mirror, "No one can resist Quirk's charm."
"Funny how it only works on females," the Tiger snidely remarked, "Or are you trying to tell me something Witz?"
The Wolf's ears pinned, "Hey...that's not...what I'm trying to say is..."
Reggie smiled as the lupine officer tried to defend his position, but only seemed to make it worse. He squirmed as they continued to drive, eventually giving in and pulling at his uniform shirt. "Damn things so uncomfortable," muttered the young officer.
