Chapter 51: Jake isn't Santa Paws!
Jake fails to break into a museum, much to Nick's amusement.
The mist from their breaths was visible, the white puffs floated in the still cold winter air of Tundratown. Despite wearing his black wool peacoat, the raccoon gave a shiver as he pulled his white and black checkered scarf tighter around his furry neck. There was a black duffel bag on the ground next to him. "What the hell are you wearing on your feet?" Nick scoffed as he looked down at what was covering the raccoon's paws.
"They are called booties," Jake said as he lifted his foot paw so the fox could see the rubber, wool lined shoes. "They are imported from the Great White North and even the polar bears up there wear them to keep the paws warm. My little toes are quite snugly toasty inside of these and the rubber bottoms help keep me from slipping on the ice, you should get a pair."
"Nope, I'm perfectly fine with my paws like they are. I can't imagine having them covered up like that!"
"That's your loss fox, because I think they are modern and stylish!"
"Where did you come up with the idea?"
"Renato Manchas found out about them in Cat Fancy Magazine and got himself a pair. You know, that as a jaguar from the Rainforest District, he too hates the cold," Jake lifted his foot paw again to show Nick the boot. "Look it has Velcro to keep it on!"
"Sometimes I think you have too much money!" Nick laughed as he adjusted the sleeves of his blue police winter jacket. "I've got to get going before Carrots catches me standing around, we're supposed to be working on a cold case from five years ago."
"Oh the irony, you two are working a cold case in Tundratown!" Jake snickered as he kicked the snow. "Get it, a cold case?"
"That wasn't funny the first twenty or so times I heard someone say the same thing back at the station, even Benny used that quip," the fox groaned. "So what brings you up this way?"
"Business my dear fox, I'm on my way over to look over the security arrangements at the Museum of the North. It seems they are concerned that someone might go after the Jeweled Acorn again. If I recall correctly, you and Judy caught the hamster who stole it when it was on loan to the Natural History Museum downtown."
"He never admitted that he was working for Chuckles, but I'm fairly sure he was."
"But Chuckles is still in jail right? The gods know we don't need that clown loose in the city again. That guy thinks he is a criminal mastermind, but he is only one hop from looney."
Half an hour later Jake stood in front of an imposing snow covered stone mansion in downtown Tundratown, it had been built by one of town's wealthiest businessmammals who had lost his fortune during the Great Depression. The imposing structure had sat empty and abandoned for many years before it was purchased by the Downtown Business Coalition and turned into a museum celebrating the heritage of the mammals from the Great North who had settled Tundratown after the weather wall had been built.
"The Jeweled Acorn is our pride and joy here at the Museum of the North," a tall distinguished looking moose in a blue suit explained as he showed the much smaller raccoon around inside the building. "It was a gift to the last czar of the arctic ground squirrels and is priceless."
Jake really wasn't looking at the artifacts or what was on display, although he felt his paws itch a time of two when he saw one or two gold or silver objects and fought his old urge to think about how he could sell them on the black market. That was a life he had left behind and he was now on the "other side of the law."
Several times, he stopped to look over an object's security measures with a practiced former criminal's eye. Tut tutting when he felt that those measures were inadequate and making suggestions to the curator, which the taller moose would write down on a pad.
Then they got to the room where the famous acorn was on display. It was sealed in a shatterproof glass box on top of a pressure plate, hard for a crook to try an attempted snatch and run, but not a problem for a trained burglar with the correct tools. "Well, someone would have to get into the building after hours and we have the best security system available," the curator replied. "Steel bars on the windows and there are also cameras which are located in each room and monitored all day and night."
Jake walked around the room observing the sensors and frowned at what he found. "I could get into this place and take the jewel without you even knowing!" he proclaimed to the surprised moose.
"Impossible!" the curator stated. "This place is like a fortress at night."
"Nothing is impossible, in fact I can get into this room today without going through any of the doors or windows," Jake chuckled. "Just give me a few minutes to change into my work clothes and I'll be right back!"
An hour passed, as the moose patently waited for the raccoon to appear, but he didn't.
Across town, Nick looked down at his personal cell phone. "I'm working coon," he answered the call. "I don't have time to chat."
"Wait, don't hang up!" Jake frantically said. "I need your help!"
"Can't it wait until after work?"
"I need you get a rope and come over to the Museum of the North."
"I can't stop an investigation to bring you some rope!"
"Look…ah, I need your help," Jake continued in almost a whisper. "I told the curator here at the museum that I could get into the building without going through any of the doors or windows."
"Okay and you want me to get you some rope why?"
"I'm…I'm…" Jake began to stutter. "Damn it fox, I'm stuck in a chimney and I can't get out! It's these booties, they don't have the same grip as my bare foot paws and I slipped. I'm wedged in tight and I can't get loose!"
Judy frowned when she looked over as her husband, who had burst out in laughter. "Nick, you can talk to Jake tonight after work," she sternly reprimanded him.
"No Carrots, you don't understand," the fox laughed. "Jake failed at being Santa Paws and is now stuck in a chimney!"
It took the fire department to finally pull the very embarrassed soot covered raccoon out of the old brick chimney, but he had found a flaw in the museum's security.