Chapter 28

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Precinct 0.5: Little Rodentia.

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Little Rodentia had always had a police force, though the state and name of that had long varied. The city within the city had always been proudly independent from the rest of Zootopia and resistant to any integration and cooperation. You don't mess with our affairs, we don't mess with yours. That was the deal.

And, combined with how larger mammals had generally ignored it and the 'harmless' little residents, it had resulted in it becoming a literal hive of scum and villainy. In the past, at the height of Padriac Rattigan's reign, the minute (in more ways than one) police force in there had almost been a token to the idea of law and order, and that was before bribes, corruption and just plain bad practice were factored in. While they may have all been turned into an art under the former crime lord, they had been long present before that. Something, Nick pondered, that a certain mammal knew very well.

Things had changed though, in no part due to Rattigan's toppling long ago by the ZPD's newest rodent detectives. Basil and Dave, though investigators at heart and not police organisers, had helped push for reform, leading the new detective service while pushing for full integration with the rest of the ZPD, something that benefited everyone. Little Rodentia received a functional police force, the rest of the ZPD had officers and resources able to handle the 'rodent diaspora', the sixty percent of rodents in the city that didn't live in the minitown, and both were able to collaborate in taking down the once thriving cross-border crime business. Indeed, when the tax mammals went after Mr Big, Precinct 0.5 officers had checked in with his records keepers in Little Rodentia, similar rounds of cross cooperation shuttling around until the deed was done. Something that not even the best defence lawyer in Zootopia could hold back.

"That's it, right?" Judy asked, pointing up ahead.

"Hey, I'm the newbie in this partnership," Nick defended. "Don't ask me."

Judy nodded, only to break off with a long loud yawn. Her paw came up and covered her mouth, then massaging her face after she'd finished. "Sorry," she moaned. "Not sure what came over me."

"It's called a caffeine crash, sweetheart."

Judy groaned. "Urghhh… Is this how you feel in the morning?"

"What the coffee giveth, the coffee taketh away."

"Right," she moaned, giving another yawn.

"Do you also need the little bunny room?"

Judy's mouth opened in surprise, before she scowled, her nose twitching hard. "Yes," she moaned. "Fingers crossed this is the place."

It turned out it was, or rather was half, of Precinct 0.5. A very debatable half, admittedly. Inside the district were around a dozen small precinct buildings, all connected by little road tunnels the size of sewer pipes. These then fed back under the wall and perimeter street, to a large nondescript office building. The Bunny-Fox cop duo stepped inside into a large waiting room, immediately heading up to the receptionists. A quick flash of their badges and in they went, Judy briefly darting off to relieve herself before coming back, giving another yawn. "What it taketh away…"

Together they slipped up a few flights of stairs and into a corridor, the words 'Non-secure' painted in green letters on its door. Inside were doors on both sides, the pair taking the third on the right and finding a little meeting room waiting for them; painted an anonymous white, the only decorations were a utility clock on one wall and a painting of a block of swiss cheese on the other. Two chairs sized for big cats sat in front of them, designed to give those visiting a good view of their mammal of interest, up on what looked like a desk.

Nick and Judy were not big cats, and even if they stood on the chairs Judy wouldn't be able to see above, and Nick would barely.

"Hey Booby," came a call from above, and the two spotted a grey rat peek over the top. He smiled, his whiskers twitching a bit, before he gestured down. "Hop up here. I was planning to meet with someone on my level in the first place."

"Right," Judy said, perking up a bit. Though she looked tired, she easily gave a double hop up, Nick giving a pair of pounces to join her. Together, they sat crossed legged, looking down at the mammal who'd called for them. Vern Rodenberg was a grey rat either in his late fifties or early sixties and was dressed plainly, bar the kippah perched on his head. It was this that suddenly sparked Judy's memory, she had seen him during the Fru Fru's wedding, though they hadn't spoken to each other. Something she was about to change. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," he said, reaching a paw forward. Judy took and shook it, Nick following on. "So," she began, slipping her buck teeth over her lower lip. "You were Big's lawyer?"

"Am," he corrected. "He may have fallen, but he still has rights to defend, you know?"

"Sorry," she said, yawning a little. "Not feeling the best right now. So, you wanted to speak to Officer Basil and Dave. Old friends?"

He huffed a little, smiling. "I wouldn't say that. We're not enemies either. But I'd say I can trust them, that's the big thing."

"Understood," she said, pausing. "So, is this something to do with Mr Big's arrest? New evidence?"

He blinked a few times, chuckling. "Now I know you're not a schmoe and I'm pretty sure I told the cops what happened. Let's start again, shall we?"

Judy blinked a few times, before slapping her face with her paws. "Dammit, sorry. Just stuck in my first caffeine crash."

He smiled a little, shrugging. "No harm done," he said, before glancing up to Nick. "You're not dropping off like her, Booby?"

"Nope," Nick said. "This fox is entirely functional."

"Good," he said, his tone taking on a darker tone. He slowly took off his shirt and revealed a set of white bandages around his shoulder, holding a large pad into his armpit, the odd red tint spreading out. Nick looked on and winced. "I'd only trust Basil and Dave with this, as all they care about is the truth, not 'justice' or their grudges or anything."

"I understand," Nick said slowly, nodding.

"-But if they trust you, I trust you," he stated. There was a long pause as he let it sink in. "How much do you know about their old enemy?"

There was a long, long pause. "Rattigan?" Nick asked. "They told me the basics. Before that, I knew rumours."

The rat nodded, glancing away. "I got rumours too, up until I started my new career and found just how real they were."

"Didn't you bump into many of his goons while..." Nick began, before waving off.

"You think they'd get in trouble with him calling the shots?" he asked, before shaking his head. "No, no… They were all protected through and through. But I heard the rumours from others. Lots of rumours."

Judy glanced between them, pretty sure that there was some context that she was missing.

"So," Nick began. "Has he returned? Asked you for work?" There was a pause, then a smile. "I'm guessing you said no."

He smiled and shrugged, only to wince from a flash of pain in his injured arm. "You Yutzi you," he muttered to himself. "No. If he paid me enough, I'd certainly work for him in an honest legal capacity. Same for Big. But it wasn't him, it was one of his henchmammals. A bat…"

Judy's eyes widened. "Yes, he… '-Fidget' wasn't it?"

He turned his paws up in the air. "I don't know," he said. "But listen, I know it was him. I've heard about him enough to know, and that means a lot from me. Do you know how unreliable eyewitnesses and memory is? Let me give you a primer. Let's ignore cases where a crooked cop leads a witness, pulling up a single suspect or someone they've cuffed and asking the witness 'is this your guy' or not. Or the same in a court, which is known to completely skewer your memory and stuff, I'm not going to quote those studies here. Let's ignore that."

His voice rose slightly, and he took a deep breath before carrying on. "Seventy five percent of false convictions are caused by bad eyewitnesses, and in properly conducted police lineups a quarter, a quarter, of mammals pick a filler, not the perp. Which means if you're some poor innocent schmuck in hauled off the street and get put in one of those, the chance of it coming out on you is getting two tails on a pair of coin tosses. Now I'm not one to call that reasonable doubt. Now, I did not know this Fidget mammal in person until he attacked, I still haven't seen him face to face, and he attacked me at night, in my apartment, while I was still waking up and then up on adrenaline. He was on the roof, cut the power, then came in and stalked me. Tried to haul me out and take off with me, but I broke free. It wasn't like I had any amount of time to look at him. So, with all that, I want you to know how serious I am here. How serious."

The pair nodded.

"It was Fidget. Do you want to know how I know?"

They nodded again.

"What other bat talks in gibberish and has a peg leg."

Nick and Judy glanced at each other. "Did he have one?" she asked. "I can't remember."

"Me neither," Nick said. "We'll have to ask them when they get back." He then turned to Vern. "Any idea why he might have attacked?"

"No," he said, paws up as he shook his head. "I… No, nothing. Listen Booby, you know what I do. Maybe I got someone he didn't like off, I don't know. He said nothing, says as much in my report. Just along with the fur samples they got. -I don't think they ever had his stuff on record, but if you do catch him I expect you to run the test, just in case someone was trying to stitch him up or anything. I won't testify otherwise," he said, a slight grin growing on his face. "You lot don't have any excuse not to be certain."

"Nope," Nick said, flashing a wink. "And thanks. We'll pass this on to the detectives."

He nodded. "And good luck with the fox kit too," he said, glancing at his arm. "I'd have been happy to be there for him, though now with this…" he began, gesturing to his injury as he shook his head. "If that shmendrik hauls him out long, I'd be happy to help. Though by then his father will probably have someone like Burmowitz onboard. Heh, take it from a rat, that's one talented cat."

"Thanks," Judy said, nodding. The two cops slipped off of the desk and walked back out, Nick immediately looking down at the droopy eared, saggy eyed bunny.

"Okay," he said, "you can ask it."

She looked up at him, immediately sighing with relief. "Thanks," she swooned.

"He…"

"-I'll get a coffee after, I really need another."

She took off, Nick left standing in place and blinking. "Uh… Where you going?"

She turned back. "Little bunnies room, thank you coffee" she grumbled. "Then more coffee. I can't believe I forgot that you said he'd been assaulted..."

Nick nodded. "Meet you in a bit, then."

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Meanwhile, in the fox family house, a different meeting was going on.

"I say no, Foxy."

"You know, this is quite the common statement that others say around me. It kind of exemplifies all of my most recent life experiences."

Most mammals wouldn't be able to hear what was being said on the other side of the phone. Finnick 'Danger' Camaro (changed from Finnick Iziah Ibn-Zerdain circa 2002) wasn't most mammals. He was a fennec fox, sporting some of the most oversized ears in the animal kingdom and he wasn't bothered to deliberately not use them. So, as he sat next to the currently ignorant Kylie O'Possum, he easily heard Frederick 'Foxy' Fox's editor reply to him.

"Well I'm sorry, but we can't have you writing an op-ed about your nephew's arrest! You're just too close."

"So, up at the coal face, famous for publicity aiding visits by those up top," the red fox pitched, walking around. "Why bother sending someone out there when you can get the fresh black stuff delivered to your door."

"You could write an op-ed about your feelings about having family members in trouble."

"Yup. Or, we could just cut out the wishy washy 'about your feelings' bit," Mr Fox retorted. "After all, as the writers say, show not tell."

"As the editor says, no."

…

"Am I not coming through to you?" Mr Fox asked, his brow furrowing. "As I feel that I'm not coming through to you."

"Yes you are, and I'm saying no."

"You know, this reminds me of all the other times when emotional busy bodies have pulled me back. I am a fox of action! Ex-ranger, dueler with danger, and after all that was forcibly tamed down as part of an incredibly generous compromise in the name of marital matrimony, I was left trying to find new exploits. Now, newspaper writing has not turned out to be one of those, but this might be. I have an idea in my head for an actually insightful, intense, emotional and quite, quite angry article that I could write. Don't you feel a slight tingle about the prospect of writing one of those, hmmm? And I get the chance to write one, which has the added main bonus of helping out my nephew! For me and this career, this is kind of the inciting moment of the film plot, if you're into that kind of stuff. My friend the theatre bunny isn't here to clarify, but oh well. This is the part where I'm lifted out of my mundanity, and shoot for the excitement and eventual glory at the end. A glory of pumped up readers, high reviews, new possibilities and not to downplay it one free nephew."

"So… You're not satisfied with your current work, are you?"

Finnick burst down laughing, pointing at Mr Fox, much to the confusion of Kylie. "I think I'll stay out of this," he said, paws up. "That seems like the most least offensive solution here."

"Least fun, too," Finnick jibed, looking back at Mr Fox.

The larger vulpine though seemed unphased by either of his two detractors.

"Quite simply yes."

"And you think that all your current work, which I've paid you handsomely for over the last decade or so, is beneath you?"

"Also yes!"

There was a long pause. "And everything you write isn't insightful, intense or emotional?"

"No, indeed not," Mr Fox began. "After all, when initially looking for what I hoped would be a job in journalism, one where I could put my foxy instincts to use in hunting down and tracking the goings on in the world, I quite clearly remember writing a short and brief piece of work on my time in the rangers. Just a little twirl of the pen and nothing much else. Your newspaper picked it up, enjoyed it, and asked for more of the same. In fact, it has done for the last decade, and I have dutifully done just that. In all honesty, I think it's quite a remarkable feat, given that, bar the odd current event, all the good stuff was gone in the first year."

There was another, long, pause. "So, let me ask a new question. If you think this way should we even still employ you?"

"Now, what would you say to my small but very active and outspoken fan base about firing their favourite fox while he's fighting for the freedom of his nephew and about to have a new kit?"

"Right… In that case, carry on what you're doing."

"So, creating a wonderful article to help with the release of my wonderful nephew!"

"No! Just carry on writing your normal articles and stay out of this case. It's not me putting this down, it's basic journalistic ethics. We can't have you hijacking a weekly column for a political commentary."

"What about if I do my own commentary on this side? I believe you call them 'quote-unquote' opinion pieces."

…

"Fine, cuss it. If it gets you off my tail, send it in tonight."

"Will do, along with any other journalistic scoops I get."

"Urggghhh! Foxy?"

"I'm guessing I'm not meant to enjoy what comes up next."

"No you are not. You are not an 'investigative journalist' Foxy. If you are able to pull your head out of your ego for one second, you'll realise that you're just a mammal who used to do cool stuff and can spin an entertaining yarn and that's it. Grow up and get real."

"Well, I won't," he said, slamming down the phone on the line. He turned, glancing at Finnick, just sitting there. His brow furrowed and he then went back to the phone and dialed in again.

"Yes?" the mammal on the other side spoke.

"And I mean it!"

He slammed the phone down once again and walked off, brushing his paws, the fennec fox looking up at them appreciatively. "Way to own that guy."

"In the sense you mean it, quite certainly," he said, smiling. "Don't you agree, Kylie?"

The opossum looked around nervously. "What way did he mean it?"

The little fennec chuckled. "Ahhh, forget it," he said, looking up to Mr Fox. "Still, couldn't help but hear on," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Seems you're a bit like Slickster too."

"Officer Wilde, I presume?" he asked, smiling.

"Yup. Both turning themselves over and changing themselves, 'fer the girl'." He frowned and shuddered. "Here I thought you had a spine."

"I did, and also a kit."

"Ahhhh," the fennec noted. "Well, there's your mistake."

"I think the correct term is accident, or rather happy accident, thank you."

"A very happy one," Kylie added.

"No probs," Finnick said. "'Part from not finding a good outlet sooner. You may still be awesome, but that don't change you bein' stuck in a midlife crisis, my Mam."

"Well, this whole stuff has an air of a crisis around it," he said. "And I wouldn't say it's my mid-life yet. I'm only thirty seven."

Finnick's jaw hit the floor. "I'm…" he began, pointing up. "What's your birthday?"

"6th of May, 82."

"24th June! Thirty days out! And you've…" he paused, gesturing up at the house around him, the pictures of his wife and kit, everything…

"Ah, you can thank the wonders of inheritance for this," he said, winking. The fennec sighed with relief a little.

"Still," he began, "took me a bit longer to find my Vix, but I think she's one where the only compromises I need to make are the ones I won't mind a bit. I think I'll go at my own pace. Make sure I'm never having to mess with myself unless I want to."

"Well, I hope it works out for you."

"Likewise," Finnick said, before pausing. "Say… You still shouldn't take no for an answer, you know?"

"I know," he said with a little smile, giving a cunning glance to his historic partner.

"He knows," Kylie spoke, breathing in and getting ready for something.

"Yeah right you do!" Finnick carried on. "He says you can't be that, he wants to give you stupid rules to follow, dragging you around and stuff. Screw him!"

"Screw them until you've assembled your flat pack," Mr Fox agreed, paw up in the air. "Finnick, I'm planning on going on a short, impulsive, unplanned and made up on the spot Hail Mary mission. Are you in?"

"I… And aren't you gonna ask your old teamy too?"

Kylie shrugged. "Well I mean, me coming along is basically a given. Him asking feels redundant."

"Fine be me then," Finnick agreed, turning back to Mr Fox. "So, what's the mission?"

"To find and convince the original councillor behind that law to amend it so it's adult only, putting a bill through ASAP and circumnavigating all sorts of public pressure and media plays in the process, not that we'll abandon them of course. Our hippo needs to squirm too. Finnick, my mam?"

"Yup?"

"We are going above and beyond investigative journalism! We're going to become a kind of mammal that strikes fear, awe and great controversy whenever it's mentioned. Kylie, get your platinum card ready as today, we are going to live in infamy! We, for today at least, are going to become: lobbyists!"

…

"Shall I bring my bat?"

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Precinct 0.5: shortly after

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"Well, good luck you two," Nick said, flashing a smile. He was at a spare large mammal desk in precinct 0.5, the small file on the attack lying open at the end off to the side. "-Oh, before you hang up, put me on speaker…"

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"Hey Little Toot-Toot!"

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"-Foxy, do not hang up…"

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"-Ignore the fennec who only wants to do things if they are 'true to him'."

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"-When have I ever taken things out of context?"

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"Uh-hu…"

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"Maybe…"

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"I beg to differ!"

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"Now you're just being pedantic."

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"Do you know what I was going to do?"

…

"Okay, so you 'say' that you only dressed up in the elephant costume and acted as a kit as you didn't care that much, the other parts of the work was enjoyable, and it gave you plenty of free time…"

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"No different to a regular job?"

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"-Right, more personal freedom and far more relaxed compared to the wage slavery an ex-con like you would be stuck in."

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"Exactly indeed, little Finnster. I mean, that particular past qualification makes you perfect for this new mission. We all know they're criminals after all."

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"See, actually funny! And you'd have got none of that if you'd of just hung up, expecting some joke about you finally coming out with your ageplay kink."

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"HEY! Did I say you had one? I said you'd have missed my actual compliment if you'd just hung up, expecting me to make that joke."

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"With respect, I was making a joke at my expense and my unoriginal selection of jokes at your expense…"

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"Yes, nothing more."

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"Watching me? Honestly it's you listening to me that I'm more worried about."

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"THAT WAS A LAUGH!"

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"Sure, only a little one. Anyway, cya later."

Nick hung up and slipped his phone away, taking a deep breath in. "-He's-got-a-spare-nursery-you-could-enjoy-for-a-week-you-know?"

He sighed, relaxing. "Would have been so good… Shame I want to mend things with him."

"What's this?" came a voice, as he looked up to see Judy walking up, a cup of drinks machine coffee in her paw.

"Oh, Mr Fox and Finnick are planning to visit the councillor who put the law in place in person and do a bit of lobbying."

"Should I be worried?"

"Of what exactly?" he asked. "That they might backfire? That they might screw up? Or that Wassermaim might use this to further his points?"

"The first two… And now the third. Might he?" she asked, her ears going back.

Nick rapped his fingers on the table and glanced away. "I'll be honest, that original law was a bone thrown to all the really angry predators in the city when the farming lobby opposed a complete nighthowler ban. 'We're listening to you, any more of those cuss holes will suffer and suffer BAD.' Now, I remember why you opposed a ban like that and despite everything that's happened I agree with you. But this law, annoyingly, probably was designed with exactly what Wassermaim has accused us of in mind. Clamping down on speciesist prey, most likely sheep. It's just like how we're all governed by laws against noxious bodily spraying, not just skunks… Of course, laws don't work like that, and if you don't want it used on preds you need to get rid of it completely."

Judy looked on, nodding tiredly.

"-Thankfully, this whole issue is about whether it should apply to youths or not. Now he was banking that everyone would see this as pred favouritism and that preds were mad that he was dealing with howlers. So far, we've kept it on the youth issue, bar the accusations on himself, and it seems that we've got the preds against him. So, unless the politician involved comes out and tries to be super pro-pred, 'we're above all suspicion', we should be fine."

"And might she?"

"Well, she introduced a spiritually super pro-pred law," Nick listed off. "She'll only be doing this if preds are behind this, is likely spurred on by the fact that her law is being used to 'attack preds', and likely plans to bank on this as another bone thrown to the preds…" He glanced up at an increasingly concerned looking Judy. "But, she is a politician, so she should be able to handle this in a way that doesn't screw up everything. So plenty of 'it's the right thing' and 'think of the children', not 'predators would never do howlers'."

"And if they fire this through the government?"

"Kris comes home. Not out of trouble, but he comes home."

Judy sighed with relief, smiling. "That's the main thing," she said, bringing the cup up to her mouth. "BLEAUGHHH!" Nick nodding as she winced, looking up to him. "Is all machine coffee like this?"

"Well, I avoid the stuff like the mange, so I guess so."

She looked down at it, her nose twitching. "I don't like coffee, but this is watery and weak, which makes it even worse…"

"Yup."

"And it's so hot you can barely drink it."

"Tell us something we don't know."

"Why would you coffee drinkers even settle for something like this?"

"Why would you ever settle for one of the Carrots for One's?" he asked smugly.

Judy grumbled. "Now I know why everyone lines up for the pot in the precinct."

"Yeah," the fox nodded, looking down. "That stuff you have there really is that bad."

Judy pursed her lips, trying to hold it in, but couldn't help it. Out came a wet raspberry before she broke down chuckling. Wiping her face, she looked up, tired but relaxed. "Thanks," she said softly, before looking at the case files. "So, any reason why Rattigan might have gone after Rodenberg? I mean, I gathered he worked for Big, but Big's already fallen. If he was trying to topple Big, he'd have done this ages ago…"

Nick nodded. "I don't think it was an abduction."

"So what, attempted murder?"

"Not that, either."

Judy looked at him, blinking. "Listen, my brain isn't working that well, but he did come in and attack this rat, didn't he?"

"He did, Carrots," the fox agreed, "but look here." He tapped at a small part of the witness report, then another. "From him, and his niece, saying there was a slight time lag between him getting dropped out onto the street and him being let back into the building."

"So…?"

The fox leant out onto a nearby laptop and typed in his password. A few clicks later, and a grainy camera was playing. Judy watched on, jolting back as they saw Vern fall onto the road and scurry back against the door

He was up against it.

He was up against it.

He was up against it.

It opened, and he hurried in.

"I… He could have been attacked a second time during that?" Judy asked.

Nick nodded. "Easily enough time for this bat to swoop in, pick him up, and try to carry him away again."

"Well maybe he was just too heavy, the bat realising he couldn't take him, so he flew off."

"If we have this ruthless villain calling the shots, do you really think he'd take failure as an option? Or he'd send his minion to abduct a mammal he couldn't lift in the first place?"

…

"No, but…" Judy began, only to shake her head. "He still failed, didn't he? Or am I missing something."

"I think he was sent in to spook Vern Rodenberg. Not kill, to spook. I feel that this is an intimidation ploy more than anything."

"Okay then, intimidate him against what? Surely there'd be terms given, ones he'd bring up with us. And what does it achieve? Who important is he defending?"

"Well, all the main crime bosses in Zootopia for a start," Nick began, pausing as he saw Judy's eyes widen.

"Wait, what?"

"He wasn't… isn't just Big's lawyer Fluff, he's the best in the city and both he and the mobs know that. It's also another reason why I don't think Rattigan would abduct or kill him, he'd unite all the criminal factions of the city so hard against him that he might deserve a nobel peace prize for his work."

"So… Is Rattigan going to try another move like he did on Big, say hit The Red Pig and take over Sahara Square… Or whoever it… -Vladzotz Fangpyre, and the nocturnal district?"

Nick shook his head. "No. It's someone that even Vern himself admitted he couldn't defend anymore."

The bunny thought for a second or two, before her eyes widened with the realisation. "...Kris?"

Nick nodded.

"But… -why Kris?" she asked out loud. "Why would Rattigan want Kris in jail? Heck, why would a big time mob lawyer like that even want to defend Kris?"

There was a long pause as Nick sighed. "Back before, I thought that you'd ask about this."

"About… what?" she queried, not sure where he was going.

"About Vern Rodenberg, and how he acts and stuff. I… -have you ever seen the Clawshank Redemption?"

Judy, now thoroughly confused, nodded her head.

"Okay, now imagine if Andy, rather than spending those twenty years digging his tunnel and then escaping, spent twenty five doing multiple correspondence law degrees, gathering evidence, practicing on other inmates before finally appealing and winning his freedom."

"Twenty five…" she began to say, only to trail off, her ears drooping hard against the back of her head.

Nick saw it, his ears going back too. "From what I heard, his original conviction, made before either of us were born, was a travesty," he explained. "A mix of ignored alibis, police misconduct, useless legal defence and a pinch of speciesism to boot, all getting him life without parole. After his appeal they didn't rule him not guilty, they ruled him innocent."

Judy huffed, looking down at the floor, hard. Nick sighed and leant in, holding her tight. "But why the mob then?" she asked. "Why?"

"A long time ago I asked him myself. At first at long of it was anger at the police, and 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' kind of stuff. I can't blame him, though he mellowed out a lot given time. He said, 'if it's better to let ten guilty mammals free than imprison one innocent, then I think it's fair to keep one guilty mammal out to keep a hundred innocents out too.' Once he'd completed his 'outside degree' at Zoo-U and set himself up as a miracle worker, he charged the mobsters an arm, leg and tail. He then uses that to fund all the pro-bono stuff that his firm does."

"I…" she began, a small smile forming on her mouth. "Change starts with you," she said, shrugging a bit.

"Yeah, there we go," Nick said, pulling back. "As for why Rattigan would want Kris in jail...? For reasons we don't know," he confessed. "But reasons that are out there. Remember what Dr Silverfox said?"

"Various mammals want his help. So, Rattigan…"

"-Might want Dr Silverfox for whatever he's doing," he said. "And getting him into a debt with him is the best way to do that. What better way to do it than to be the one who can, or has, freed his son."

"So… -Vern doesn't take the case, Kris goes to jail, it means whatever they have is what can get him out, so William works for him."

Nick nodded. "Or, remember here that Rodenburg and Rattigan are the same species, Rattigan is able to impersonate him later on."

"Hang on," Judy cut in. "What about the other lawyers."

"Huh?" Nick asked, his head tilting.

"Rodenburg wasn't the only…"

She was cut off as Nick's paws slammed down on the table. "CUSS!"

"Huh?" She asked, as her partner pulled up his radio.

"Clawhauser? Claw… -Listen, there's a chance that whoever attacked Rodenburg might be after some of the other top lawyers. Burmowitz. Badge and Delilah… Yeah, rain check for now. Over."

He put the radio away and slumped back down onto his chair, sighing. "I hope it's just a possibility. I hope…"

Judy nodded to, leaning forward and holding his paw. "You did the right thing, calling it in." She smiled. "Clever thinking."

He let out a snort of a laugh. "Well, I wouldn't have thought of that if you hadn't mentioned those other lawyers in the first place. Still, those are just the top ones William was talking about and may have mentioned to 'Slylock'... There are others, are there not."

She nodded. "He can't spook all of them, after all."

"If it is him, if they are connected, if we're not just crazy paranoid and grabbing at straws. I mean, what could he even want from William?" There was a long pause, before one of Nick's ears gave a slight flick. "Though didn't he vanish in Armyenia? That's near where Dr Silverfox did a lot of his work. The work that was asked about..."

"I guess," she said. "But it all seems so far fetched. I mean, framing Kris to save Kris to get his father in his debt? And if he's the one who planted them, how do we prove that?"

Nick slumped down, head in paws. "I don't know Fluff, I really don't know… Though, again, I have a feeling. Maybe someone else framed Kris for their own reasons, then Rattigan… or at least someone, saw it and the chance to pursue his own motives. If he exists, if it's him, if this bat is his bat."

There was a long pause, before Judy's ears began to rise. "Hold up."

"Yup?" Nick asked, as he watched her pick up her coffee cup. It had cooled to the point where she could chug it, even if she didn't like it. Slamming it down with a disgusted Bleaughhh… she jumped off her chair, pacing and jumping around as if it had already taken effect.

"It makes sense from my view, because this bat could be the same bat that I spotted, that stole the Nighthowlers right at the beginning."

"From Flora and Fauna."

"But he has a peg leg! So surely that might have caused some scratches in the duct work, or some tears along the insulation in the void he used to get in, right?"

Nick's eyes widened. "Maybe! Hang on, did they ever do a scan for any fur or stuff in there." He turned to the computer and began typing away. "Ah! Various small traces of fur from a variety of species were found, including a bat! Fur traces we could cross reference with stuff picked up from Vern's place!"

"So we could prove the connection!"

"Yeah," he said, slipping off the chair. "We should also pop into that place again, have a quick chat. If he's fine with it, we call forensics to have another look around."

"Perfect," Judy said, as she followed him out.

.

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Vern Rodenberg belongs to Merc_Marten, and is probably my second favorite character from Fire Triangle, even though he only shows up in a pawful of chapters. Given how he owns every scene he was in, I wanted to include him, even if it was just a bit part. I don't plan to include him any more, but I hope you all enjoyed his little visit... and the dark thoughts about what that incident might mean.