Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from Zootopia are owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Judge Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark wrote under the name of Cyril Hare. Some plots center on points of English law, but remain fun. This plot was lifted from a short story.

Set after Nick and Judy began a serious relationship, but prior to their formal engagement. They have their own apartments, but usually only one is used each night. Tiny quotes from Gilbert and Sullivan's Yeomen of the Guard and Lewis Carroll's Hunting of the Snark. I also thought of Jay Ward, Harlem, Jungle Book (the movie), Kevin & Kell, a body mouldering in the grave, and a bear named Yogi.

Bear Witness

Judy knocked on the frame of the captain's door, "You wanted to see me?"

Alces looked up and frowned, "I wanted to see you and the fox... The two of you have a fight or something?"

Under her fur Judy blushed, "Nick and I have our... He... It's been so slow the last couple days he went for a couple cups of coffee."

"We have–"

"He wants good coffee."

Alces wouldn't lie and claim any special properties for the coffee at the First, other than the fact it was free. "Tell him the city expects a full shift from him. He's supposed to..." The moose leaned back and stared at the ceiling, then sighed. "And the city expects us to work past the end of our shifts way too often. He'd better not–"

"Not what?" asked Nick cheerfully, appearing at the door and handing a paper cup to Judy. "Piss you off is my guess. And with my powers of deduction I'll go for it being five minutes late."

"Ten minutes late. But I was just remembering all the times you get called on to stay ten minutes, or twenty, or two hours past the end of your shift."

"So you're going to forgive me?"

"I'm going to send you to Second."

"What!"

The moose held up a hoof to stop the bunny before she could launch a nuclear protest. "Temp assignment. Things are not going slow there. And they've got eight detectives out at the moment – two on vacation, two injuries – one in the line of duty and one in the line of falling down a flight of stairs at his home, and four out with the flu. You two are still the newest detectives here and things are quiet. Oh, try not to breathe while you're there. I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring the flu back with you."

As they drove over Judy asked, "What can you tell me about the Second? We've been there a few times – coffee shops and restaurants. It seems, uh..."

"Not as bright and shiny as the First Precinct? Yep... Now, country bunny, while I've lived in Zootopia since birth, more or less, I–"

Judy smiled, "You were more or less born?"

"I was occasionally out of the city to Fox Ridge or other places. What I'm reminding you is that I don't claim to know everything about–"

"You usually do, claim to know everything that is."

"Do you want my thoughts on the Second or not?"

"I'll be a good bunny."

Nick grinned, "You're usually a great bunny. To return to the past. Second was the heart of the city before the environments were developed and the First's area took off. What's now the Second had the best shops. Heard of Sugar Street?"

"Uh, I may have heard the term. Don't know what it was."

"I'm not sure I know the real name of the street. It was where all the rich larges lived. A couple kilometers or more of mansions. You lived there, it said you'd made it. Some of them are still standing, not as glamorous now. Some have been torn down. Don't know exactly where the precinct boundaries are–"

"Miss that at the Police Academy?"

"Absolutely. Paid attention to what matters."

"And that doesn't?"

"You want to hear about the Second or not?"

"Please, finish your tale."

"Pretty sure no real slums. We have some worse areas in the First from when the boundary lines were defined. Still some fairly good areas in the Second, although not what it was fifty or so years ago. I think the trendy shops are the hottest things going, but some of the old mansions are classic architecture and are being restored."

"I've heard a rumor that officers in the Second resent officers from the First."

Nick shrugged, "One should not listen to rumors, but I guess it would make sense. Should I be on my best behavior?"

"Any chance you could do better than that?"

"Ouch, and to think I loved you madly just this morning."

Judy giggled, "Oh, definitely last night. And you don't love me now?"

"Last night was mutual. And, of course, I still love you madly. I love you more each minute. I–"

"Hold that thought, there's the station."

A dour lioness sat at the entry desk, "Hopps and Wilde?"

"Yes," answered Judy, "reporting for–"

"Five creds for the coffee fund. That's five creds each."

"You have to pay for coffee here?" Nick asked in disbelief.

"We buy our own. Not that crap the city provides."

Judy did not believe she had ever seen Nick reach so quickly for his wallet. "I'm in, where–"

"We don't know how long we'll be assigned here," Judy reminded him.

"If it's good it pays for itself after–"

"And Captain Dewclaw wants to see you now."

"Where–" began Judy.

"Through that door," the desk sergeant pointed, "left at the end of the hall."

"Hope we get a chance to try the coffee before we get sent out," muttered Nick as they walked down the corridor.

They didn't. Minutes after parking their car they were back in it. "Great," Nick complained, "we're sent out for a suicide. You could send a–"

"We don't know it's a suicide," Judy pointed out.

"Dewclaw said it was."

"Dewclaw said there was a report of a suicide. It's not the same as saying it is. That's our job to determine what happened." The rabbit checked the GPS as the fox drove. "Nick?"

"Yes dear?"

"Valet?"

"What about a valet. You know the meaning of the word?"

"Intellectually. We didn't have any in Bunnyburrow. I think it ties in with that alpha thing in pred psychology. That wasn't my best class at the academy."

"There was a class where you weren't tops?"

"I think I memorized what to say on the tests. I just don't have a feel for what it means. I think it's kind of like pecking order with chickens. I explained that to you one time, right?"

"That chicken A can peck on chickens B, C, and D, while B can peck on C and D, and poor D just gets pecked on?"

"Right."

"Okay, the alpha thing is a bit like that. Only it was more pred A and everyone else was a chicken B. If you worked in groups you needed a leader. Some groups would chose a new leader when the old one ceased to lead, in some species it was handed down from parent to child over generation. And some of the felines preferred to hunt solitary 'cause felines can never get along with anyone."

"Can I tell Lylah you said that?"

"I'm pretty sure she knows. Look at how she treats me."

"Foxes? Would you be an alpha?"

"We foxes gave up that nonsense years ago."

"And bears? This is a dead bear we're going to see."

"Ever wonder why you see so many bear servants, like Big's polars?"

"Because they're big and look tough?"

"That too, But bears kept that alpha mentality... I mean, their alpha families kept the idea they are supposed to be served, and the B chickens more or less accepted their lot as providing service to others. So you'll see a lot of bear maids, or butlers, or valets."

When they parked Judy wondered if this might have been the grandest hotel in all of Zootopia when it was built – probably more than a hundred and twenty years earlier. She showed her badge to the tired looking elk behind the desk. "Hopps and Wilde. Jellyston room?"

"The suite of Mister Crandall Jellyston is on fourth floor, D." He pointed toward the elevators.

The uniformed cheetah outside the door gave them a puzzled look as they approached. Before he could tell them to get lost Judy showed her badge again.

"Don't recognize you."

"We're on temp assignment from the First. What have you got?"

"First, huh? How dumb are you?"

"I don't understand."

"I figure the First wouldn't be sending out anyone they didn't want to dump on us."

"This is Judy Hopps. Night Howler case? Remember that?"

He stared at the rabbit for a minute and shrugged. "Looked taller on TV. Sounded like she and the fox got lucky."

"And this is the fox," Judy told him. "How about you do your job and let us do ours? What have you got?"

Remembering he was talking to detectives, even if they were from the First, reminded the officer of his duty. "Call this morning, 9:07. Valet reported finding his employer dead. Thought it looked like suicide. Bullet through roof of mouth into the skull. Called us. Body is still here – when do you want me to call the coroner?"

"We'll let you know. The valet? What did he say? Is he here?"

"He's here." He passed his notebook to Nick, who scanned through it quickly as the officer continued. "Says he didn't hear anything. Employer, Crandall Jellyston, had invited him to have a couple drinks with him last night. Valet, John Brown, said he was sleeping it off. Valet drinking with his employer? Sounds a bit sketchy, I called for detectives."

"Does sound peculiar," agreed Nick and handed the notebook back. "You take good notes."

The cheetah almost gave them a smile, "Thanks," and opened the door.

"Crandall Jellyston," mused Nick, "sounds vaguely familiar..."

"Goggle™ it in a minute," Judy suggested as they opened the door to the room with the body.

The clothed body of a bear lay on top of the bed, the pistol in his paw the presumed cause of death. Two glasses and a half empty liquor bottle were on a small table in the master bedroom. An open envelope and note lay on the table as well. Judy donned gloves and carefully opened the folded piece of paper, wondering if it might be a suicide note. It wasn't. "See you at noon tomorrow," read the note signed with a 'B. Winkle'.

Nick pulled out his phone to check the web. "Think I remember now," he explained as he typed a name into the search engine. "Years ago... He was member of... I think they called it the Winkle mob, a moose family and a few other thugs. Jellyston turned State's evidence..." He stopped talking for a minute and glanced at the news article he'd found. "His evidence put Bob and Bruce Winkle behind bars and a tiger named George Sanders."

"Bruce or Bob coming for revenge?"

"Pretty sure they'll spend rest of their lives in prison," Nick said, still reading his phone. "Burton got a lighter sentence, he might be out. No conviction for a fourth brother... I have a vague memory of some sister, but don't remember if she was even charged with anything."

"Find the valet?"

"Sounds good to me."

The bear's breath smelled like he'd poured his breakfast from a liquor bottle.

"Shorry," he apologized. "Upshet. Poor Mister Jellyston. I don't know what to... Shuch a shock."

"You drank with him last night?" asked Nick.

"After I gave him a note. He sheemed nervoush. I... He took out a bottle an'... Shaid he didn't want to drink alone."

"You gave him a note?" asked Judy.

"Mooshe... Mooshe at a local gave it to me. Shaid to deliver it to Mishter Jellyston."

"This moose, he came up to you at the pub? Any idea how he knew you worked for Jellyston?"

"I liked to... Mister Jellyston liked me to go on walksh with him in the area. There'sh a renovation going on a couple blocksh from here. We passhed by and shome mooshe there wash shtaring at ush."

"I don't supposed you noticed the name of the contractors?" asked Nick.

The bear's brow wrinkled in thought. "Winkle Construction?... Yes. Mister Jellyston shaid it wash mosht unfortunate."

"And the note," asked Judy. "How did you get the note?"

"Mister Jellyston didn't need me sho I went out for a pint. A moohse, the mooshe from the conshtruction shite, looked in and came over when he shaw me. We talked for awhile and he ashked me to take the note, shaid he wash hoping he might find me... Been looking in placesh, an'..."

"Have you worked for Jellyston very long?"

"Long? Not long at all. I... I have a... Maybe I drink a little too much. He..." The bear made a sweeping gesture around his shabby room, "Kind of bottom of the employment barrel."

Judy glanced at her watch, "Almost noon," she pointed out to Nick. "Should we see if a Mister Winkle shows up at noon?"

"You'd hit me if I said 'no', wouldn't you."

"You know me too well," she grinned and grabbed his jacket. She pulled him down and gave him a kiss.

"Should I anshwer when–" the bear started to ask.

"Please don't. Nick? Tell the officer at the door we're expecting a moose."

The valet poured himself another tall drink and started on lunch.

"Well, now we know why we were told it looks like suicide," commented Nick as they waited to see if a moose would put in an appearance. He read more of the story of the Winkle mob and subsequent trial to Judy as they waited.

Judy looked at her watch. "If he doesn't show, could he have followed the valet home and murdered Jellyston last night?"

"He still might show up today, just so he could say we are witnesses he didn't know the bear was dead. You should always be suspicious, Carrots."

They heard a sound in the hall outside and the cheetah opened the door to admit a moose.

The moose glanced back at the uniformed officer and then at Nick and Judy. "He said you were detectives." Judy nodded yes. "Here to arrest that bastard Jellyston?"

"No. May we ask why you're here?"

"Mostly to put the fear of Dog into the scum... You police did a stinking job, the whole fucking court system... Jellyston deserved more time in prison than either of my brothers." The moose looked around the rundown room. "Must have been trying to hide. Hide two blocks from one of our renovation sites? His luck finally... Wait, you're not here to arrest him?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Jellyston is dead."

"Dead? Please tell me it was a slow painful death."

"A gun in the mouth. Bullet took off a chunk of his head."

"Better than he deserved," the moose grumbled.

"You knew Jellyston?" asked Judy. "Could you provide a positive ID for the body?"

"I knew him better than I wanted. If he's dead I'm done with the bastard, and I don't do favors for cops."

The moose turned and went out the door.

Nick shrugged, "He might have been willing to murder Jellyston, but I don't think–"

"Nick! Bring him back!"

"What? He said–"

"Find some way, get him back here, now!"

Judy didn't know how Nick managed to convince the moose to turn back. Did the fox flatter, cajole and persuade? Did he threaten its life with a railway-share? Did he charm it with smiles and soap? She had worried Nick couldn't turn the moose around, but two minutes later the moose was back in the suite.

"You need to make an ID for us," Judy told him bluntly.

"I told you, I don't do favors for cops."

"You're not doing it for us," Judy told him. "You owe it to your family."

The moose frowned, "I don't see how–"

Judy walked over and opened a door. Nick almost warned Judy she had forgotten the door to the bedroom with the dead bear as she opened the room where the valet was finishing a drink.

The moose stared, "You told me he was dead."

"This is Crandall Jellyston?"

"He is. But–"

"And he is being arrested for the murder of his valet. John Brown. Leave your name and address with the officer at the door. We will need you to testify at the trial."

The moose's eyes gleamed, "A trial for murder? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As uniformed officers escorted the drunken, pawcuffed bear to the police van Nick complimented Judy, "Good job."

"Thank you. Your problem, Slick, is that you're not suspicious enough."

"And I know the perfect way to repay you for being brilliant."

Judy winked at him, "Something tonight?"

"Right now. I'll type the report."

Judy smiled at the unusual offer, "Thanks."

"If I type slow enough, and the coffee's good, those five credits each will be pure profit after two cups! How often do you think they have to kick in the five? Every week? Every month?"

–The End–