Chapter 4

"I didn't think there were neighborhoods like this in Duckburg," Oswald commented as they drove down a quant old styled street.

"What do ye think the city is, all high-rises and rich folk?" O'Hara asked, throwing a glance at the rabbit.

"Well, I mean, two of the richest people live here so," Oswald said, letting his voice fall away.

"Speaking of, didn't I hear rumors of Mr. Whiskers looking at moving down here?" O'Hara asked.

"He's talked about it," Oswald admitted. "Wants to be closer to the kids and Ortensia. He said he'd have to open a branch of his bank down here before he did move though." He looked at O'Hara and asked, "You think J.P. and Mr. Scrooge'd get along?"

"Probably better than he gets along with Glomgold but not well enough to say he could be civil with the man," O'Hara said. "He doesn't like banks so I don't think he'd really like bankers."

"Well he's civil enough with Glomgold, the two share some millionaire's club," Oswald pointed out. He paused for a moment before adding, "Or is it billionaire's club?"

"High enough up there the only reason I've ever seen the inside is to stop those two from fighting," O'Hara said. He shook his head as he added, "No one else was stupid enough to try."

Oswald let out a laugh, saying, "What I wouldn't give to have been a fly in that."

"If Mr. Whiskers joins, I'd hate to see what those three might do," O'Hara said, a shiver running up his spine.

"I doubt J.P. would even be a part of it," Oswald threw off as O'Hara pulled to a stop aside the street. "He's as frugal as Scrooge, if not more so. Scrooge lives in a mansion and I've never known J.P. to have anything more than a two story house." He looked at the houses they were at and asked, "You sure this is right? Looks like someone's grandma's house."

"Might just be," O'Hara said, killing the engine. The two stepped out of the police cruiser, the chief leading the way up the walkway of a house with gnomes on the lawn. A cat let out a cry before an orange tabby jumped out of a bush and over the fence.

"And don't forget the diced onions this time!" a harsh older voice called out as the front door opened.

"I wrote it down," a male voice called back as a hippo walked out the door. His eyes fell on the two, freezing him momentarily before he caught himself. He pulled close the door behind him and asked, "What can I do for you two?"

"Elvin Barkley?" O'Hara asked, a hand already on the cuffs at his belt.

"Yes?"

"You're under arrest for the kidnapping of Mickey Mouse," O'Hara said, flicking the cuffs off his belt and around the man's wrists.

"Uhm, what?" Barkley asked as his hands were clasped behind his back.

"Elvin? What's going on?" the woman's voice asked as an aged hippo stepped out to her front porch.

"Don't worry, Mom," Barkley said as O'Hara recited his rights. Barkley looked over his shoulder as he was forced towards the car and added, "This is all just a misunderstanding."

Oswald quickly opened the back passenger door so O'Hara could put the man in the car. He watched, surprised catching the man had been so easy, as O'Hara held the hippo's head so he could get into the backseat before stepping back and shutting the door. He looked up at O'Hara and said, "Well, I guess we can tell the kids to stop looking for him. How'd you guess he'd have a different address for the card?"

"I know families that do the same, using their parents account and not bothering to make their own," O'Hara explained as he walked around the car to the driver seat. "It was just luck that he was spending his time off here."

-.-.-.-

"Yeah, they're already interrogating him now," Oswald said to the phone. He turned to look back at the door he knew he was allowed back into once he was done on the phone, wishing to already be in there.

"That's great, you want us to go ahead and get up there?" Ortensia asked from the other end of the call.

"Yeah, better have Michael ready in case we're able to send him home too," Oswald informed. "I've gotta go. I love you."

"Love you too."

Oswald pocketed the phone and rushed back into the viewing room, seeing Barkley sitting in the next room through a one way window, his hands cuffed to the table he sat at.

O'Hara gave a look at the door, catching Oswald's eye, with a female officer standing beside him holding print outs in her hands, as he finished, "And the warrant?"

"Search warrant's already been filed for Mrs. Barkley's property," the officer said. "Just waiting for the judge's okay."

"Good, thanks Nelson," O'Hara said with a nod. He gave Oswald a look before asking, "Is Michael on his way?"

"With the girls," Oswald said with a nod. He paused as he realized the chief of police didn't usually do interrogations and asked, "Where's Casey?"

"On vacation, but even if he wasn't, this is a case I'd want him partnered up with Mickey anyway."

"Hey! I know you're watching me!" Barkley called out through the speaker for the room through the mirror. "Can I at least get a water?"

"I'll get him a bottle," Nelson said, already turning to leave the room.

"Go ahead and bring it in when you've got it," O'Hara ordered, grabbing hold of the door handle. He pulled open the door and walked into the holding room, making sure the door closed behind himself before taking a seat across the table from the man, laying down a folder he had in his hands.

"Did you hear me?" Barkley asked.

"Yeah, it'll come in a moment," O'Hara offered, resting on an arm against the table. He opened the file and read through it a moment before saying, "Tell me, Doc, what does your Portrait Capture device do?"

"A frivolous device, really," Barkley admitted, leaning back in the chair. "It just takes pictures and prints them to canvas using recycled mater. My niece wanted canvas art in her room and I thought I'd help my sister."

"That's not all it seems to do," O'Hara said, taking a page and flipping it around so Barkley could read it. "We got this from the institute. What does it say?" O'Hara pointed his finger at a line he had already found on the upside down sheet and read, "…break down the molecular structure of the subject, saving that data on canvas." Taking his hand back he added, "Sounds like a perfect contraption to be used to kidnap people. Add in a time machine and a strange fixation on adventurous mice and you've got everything to become the Mouse Collector."

"Is there any proof?" Barkley asked, looking up at O'Hara from the paper. "Proof that I'm the, what did you call it, the Mouse Collector?"

"Other than the fact that these inventions are yours as well as your name on the receipt for the house that keeps popping in and out of existence?" O'Hara asked, turning a paper towards the man that showed a copy of the house's mortgage with his signature.

"The house, by the way, that I've reported as stolen to your people only ten days after it vanished," Barkley said. A smile pulled on his lips. "I'm sorry, but you've got nothing to hold me on. Sure, I invented those items you claim I did, but there's no proof that I used them with malicious intent. Now, before I have to get my lawyer involved, un-handcuff me."

Oswald bit his bottom lip as he pulled on his ears, keeping quiet on the other side of the glass.

"Oh, is he already done?" Nelson asked as the woman walked in with a bottle in hand. She took a quick look between Oswald and the interrogation room before simply stating, "Oh."