Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

In 1940 Jimmie Lunceford added his own spin to the Smokey Joe mythos with Minnie The Moocher Is Dead, sung by the Dandridge sisters. I've not been able to find a copy of the lyrics. I've listened multiple times. I can't understand what is being said about Smokey Joe's grief. I suspect some scat singing (made-up words to complete the rhythm) and/or the use of 1940s slang which is alien to my ears.

Minnie the Moocher is Dead

Ben greeted them with a huge smile and, "Congratulations!"

Judy and Nick looked puzzled.

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"See Alces. Oh, and Bogo sends congrats too."

Nick looked at Judy and raised an eyebrow, asking if she had a clue. The rabbit shook her head no, indicating she didn't.

The moose was slightly more nuanced when they reached his office. "Almost congratulations. But I've told you to knock off the Fox-male and Rabbit. Wilde, I'd ask how you could be so stupid, but I think I know."

"Uh, if you wouldn't mind could you tell us what you're talking about? Clawhauser congratulated us, but didn't tell us why."

"You haven't heard from Forensics yet?"

Nick was tempted to point out the obvious, if they had any idea what the moose was talking about they wouldn't have asked the question. But it appeared Alces might be more than his normal level of unhappy with the fox, so it might not be a good idea to poke a very large animal with a sharp stick. "No, what happened?"

"Lynx you brought in has been charged with murder, assault, and multiple burglaries. May be possible to link him with a few more crimes."

Judy and Nick exchanged a joyful high five, then Nick demanded, "What did you mean asking how I could be so stupid? What did I do this time?"

"Endangering your partner, and now there's a chance a lawyer can argue entrapment."

"Nick didn't endanger me," argued Judy. "That was my idea!"

"Your idea to pretend to find evidence and put yourself in harm's way?"

"Yes."

"You've been hanging around the fox too long."

Judy hugged Nick's arm and leaned against the fox, "It's impossible to spend too much time with Nick. He's wonderful."

The moose rolled his eyes as he shook his head and chuckled. "If you two weren't so good I'd gift-wrap you and send you to the Second."

Nick asked, "You really think a lawyer will argue that was entrapment?"

"Probably. No jury should buy it. No one held a gun to the lynx's head and ordered him to attack Judy. But a jury filled with idiots, or even a couple jurors who hate the police, might believe that crap. Should be a minor bump, at worst, before conviction." He tapped his desk, "Knock on wood."

"Since we were so brilliant last week," began Nick, "Maybe you could see your way to letting us look at the Smokey Joe–"

"No. It was the Fourth's case."

"It would reflect well if the First solved a crime the Fourth failed–"

"We're all the police," the moose told him firmly. "We're on the same team and not in competition with each other. What matters is that the guilty are found... Of course, if you and Judy are given a soft week as a reward for the extra hours you put in last week you might look at the Fourth's work on the case, if you want. Your captain, would never assign you to work one of the Fourth's cases."

"Of course not," Nick agreed.

Judy just grinned. As they headed for their desks, to write up the official report on the lynx and the expanded list of crimes with which he would be charged, she whispered, "I got you the time you wanted to look at Duke's case."

"We worked it together. I'll give you the credit for that stunt you pulled... Not sure why you want all the credit."

Judy winked at him, "Maybe this weekend you'll offer to do anything I want."

The fox pretended to look worried, "Anything?"

The rabbit tried to leer at him, but bunny faces weren't constructed for a good leer. "It would only seem fair."

Nick sighed, "Okay, but why do I feel like it will require me to wear that gray and black jersey and watch the Hares United game?"

"Holy Prophecy, Fox-male, you've gained a new superpower! Now, before Alces sends us an assignment, you said you'd started thinking about Duke's case?"

"Just started. Sort of figuring out the things we need to consider. I think we've got a lot of signs pointing in wrong directions. Too many potential dead ends."

"Care to explain what you're thinking?"

"Well, I see three big headings for what this is about. And under the three big headings there could be Dog knows how many options. If–"

"So, start with giving me the big three."

"Okay. One is that it's about Duke or the old Weaseloni mob. It's all done to get Duke tossed in jail and charged with murder. Someone hates Duke, or wants to get back at his grandmother. I imagine a lot of animals don't like Duke. For example, I know a rabbit who doesn't like him, but she wouldn't commit murders in an effort to frame him. If it's about Duke there has to be some animal who really, really hates him."

"He turned state's evidence against Bellwether."

"Yeah, I'm thinking we need to explore that angle if this is about framing Duke. That angle and anyone else who might have it in for Duke."

"Which is, maybe, half of Zootopia."

"At least. Second big possibility, this really is about the old Smokey Joe mob. Maybe there was a stash of loot that was supposed to be shared. Maybe someone wanted revenge on the families of some animals who did him, or his father, dirt years ago."

"Why wait fifty years or more?"

"I didn't say it was likely. I'm saying we have to consider that as one of the options. Didn't a talk radio host say maybe the killer was some mobster who's spent the last fifty years in jail?"

"I think so. I hope you're not suggesting that maybe it's the real ghost of Smokey Joe behind the killing, come back to punish the families of gang members who turned on him."

"We can rule out a real ghost. I don't believe in them. And a real ghost wouldn't need to frame Duke. Some animal did a good job of setting him up as a fall guy."

"So we can scratch a real ghost off the list of possible suspects?"

"I feel relatively confident about scratching the ghost."

"Consider the ghost scratched. You said a third major motive heading?"

"Killer wanted to eliminate one of the three animals who was killed. He, or she, was afraid it might be too easy for the police to figure it out if only one animal was killed, and so the Smokey Joe angle is purely a distraction."

"That's a pretty callous murderer."

"We don't know what the payoff was. Maybe one of the three left seven million creds to a nephew – who didn't want to wait. Lot of animals might commit three murders for seven million."

Judy nodded, "Have to check the three victims out as individuals as well as a group. I"m getting a sense of the sub-headings under your big headings."

"Better believe it, Carrots. That's what I meant about so many distractions and dead-ends. Oh, and look for a smart killer."

"And your reasoning?"

"The ghostly image stuff. How did the killer manage that? Video image is under heading four, miscellaneous. Distorted video, old ammunition, challenge medals, and anything else we think of. Might be a clue in one of those."

"Or might not be." Judy was silent for a minute, then confessed, "I know what Malus meant about Jonathan and David being in over their heads. Too many doors to look behind."

"We have a small advantage over them."

"The fact we're working on it, and we're brilliant?"

"Two advantages. We also know Duke didn't do it. We don't have to consider that, so it won't distract us."

"Strikes me we have something fundamentally important as the place we need to start."

"And that would be?"

"The killer had a bunch of of information on Smokey Joe, or at least his gang, and the fight with the Weaseloni mob. Where did the killer get the information?. How easy is it to find that stuff? Are we dealing with someone who wrote a history of gang-warfare in Zootopia? An old member, or child of a member of one of the gangs? Or are we looking at someone who just knows how to use a search engine?"

"Good questions, Rabbit! To the Fox Computer!"

At the end of a half hour, Nick commented. "Well, it wouldn't take a historian to find a ton of information on the Smokey Joe angle."

"Search Duke, and some of the stories on his connection with Bellwether gang and you get reference to the Weaseloni mob."

"And from there the connection to Smokey Joe. Or, if you're after someone you know has any vague connection with the Smokey Joe mob you can find some of the members who did time years ago, and not that hard to find names of their children."

"And when you're looking for someone to frame for the crimes the Weaseloni angle comes into... How would the killer know Duke carried a Smokey Joe challenge coin?"

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe that was just luck."

"Maybe. Maybe it would be worthwhile to talk with Duke. And his grandmother. Even if she can't add anything at least she'll see we're working on this and get off our backs."

"You almost sound afraid of an ancient weasel in a retirement home."

"I saw her rap sheet. She'd be willing to order three hits if there was something in it for her."

"You saying we need her as a suspect?"

"No, she wouldn't have framed Duke."

Before they could arrange a meeting they were sent out to process a crime scene and take witness statements. It took an hour and a half.

"You can knock off for the day after you get that on my desk," Alces told them.

Nick managed to restrain himself from saying, "Thanks, Chief." The moose seemed in a rare good mood and upsetting him seemed like a bad idea under the circumstances.

The swung by the Golden Fields Retirement Home before going to the jail to interview Duke.

"It's about time you two cleared my Dominick," complained the elderly weasel in the back seat of the car.

"Clearing Duke is not our assignment, Missus Weaseloni," Judy tried to explain. "We're on our own time. Nick–"

"Well, you ought to be on it," she snapped. "According to the television you're the only two officers in Zootopia who can do anything."

"There are many good officers in the ZPD. The Smokey Joe murders were not our assignment. Officers at the Fourth worked–"

"They fucked up."

"They investigated the evidence and–"

"Do you think my Dominick killed anyone?"

"No."

"They fucked up."

Being celebrities sometimes made life harder for the rabbit and fox. Sometimes it made life easier. Had any two random officers showed up with a prisoner's grandmother and asked to see the animal behind bars they would have been required to furnish pages and pages of documentation and spend a half hour answering questions.

"This interrogation room. Wait here. I'll bring Weaselton," the guard told them. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, this is wonderful. Thank you very much," Nick assured him, using his smooth and ingratiating voice.

"Do you think he might be innocent?"

"Of course my Dominck is innocent," the old weasel snapped. "Someone fucked up."

"The detectives from the Fourth did a very thorough job," Judy told the guard. "But there are still some angles on the murders that need to be cleared up."

"How long do you need to talk with Weaselton? I could get in trouble if you talk too long."

"How long can you give us?"

"It's supposed to be a half hour, max. I can let you–"

"That should be fine. If he talks it shouldn't take half an hour. If he won't talk there's no point in interviewing him. Knock on the door to get your attention when we're done?"

"That'll work." The guard pointed to a small remote on the table inside the room. "That'll summon four guards."

"Can we have the video tape of the interview?"

"Uh, sorry, we need to–"

"It's fine," Nick assured him. "We'll have our notes, and the tape will be on file if we need to see it again."

"Right," the guard nodded. They went in and sat, the guard was back in ten minutes with Duke.

"Gran!"

"Dominck!"

"Could you take the cuffs off while he's in here?"

"Sorry, Detective Hopps, rules are–"

"Judy never breaks the rules," Nick assured him, and helped Duke sit down. "Thanks again, this is a huge help."

"Youse iz workin' da case?" Duke asked after the guard left.

"Not officially," Judy told him. "Our captain is giving us a little slack. If we can turn up hard evidence of something he may give it to us for real."

"Whoever framed you had some knowledge of the old war between the Smokey Joe and Weaseloni mobs–"

"That's history. No fucking way is that behind this," snorted Rosa Weaseloni.

"Whoever framed Duke made it look like it's behind the killings. And that's why Duke is in jail now. We need information on enemies who'd like to see Duke charged with murder. There is a ton of information out there on the old gang warfare, but we're hoping the two of you might give us something that might help us on that too."

"I'm not telling bulls anything," the elderly weasel told them.

"Even to help Duke?"

The grandmother fell silent.

Nick turned to Duke, "We'll start with you. You may just be a patsy the killer framed to keep the heat off himself. Or, the real killer is someone who hates you and wants you in prison. Does anyone hate you enough to kill three animals?"

"You turned state's evidence on the Bellwether mob," Judy reminded him. "We know there are animals sympathetic to their cause who weren't jailed. Could one of them be behind this?"

Duke thought for a moment, "I doubts dat hypotenuse. I tinks dat da Bellwedder gang wouldst radder go after youse or da fox."

"Murder is extreme," Nick pointed out. "Do you know any animal who'd murder three other animals just to frame you? It seems hard to believe."

Judy nodded agreement, "I imagine there are a lot of animals who hate you, but killing three other animals to frame you? That seems unlikely."

"I iz da best loved animal in Zootopia," Duke insisted. "Except for youse twos. I does not knows any animal who would off tree... Big. Ones upon a time Big could odor tree hits as easy as he coulds sneeze. But he is goin' legit. And Big haz no reasons to hates me. Hook MacKenzie. Da wolverine could rubs out tree animals for fun–"

"He's in jail," Judy reminded him.

"Youse really tinks he does nots have contacts on da outside? If he taught I waz snitching for–"

"Are you snitching for the Bulls?" Duke's grandmother cried, "Dominick? How could you?"

"I'm sure Duke is no informant," Nick assured her. "He's on probation, and that means the police check up on him. Detective Hopps happens to hate the very ground Duke treads on, so we stop him frequently to verify his activities. It's almost criminal the way she persecutes your poor grandson."

"That isn't–" Judy sputtered.

"Dat iz eggsactly da ways I sees it," Duke assured his grandmother.

"I try to restrain her," the fox told the elderly weasel.

Judy glared at Nick, then returned to questioning Duke, "Are you saying Hook MacKenzie could have ordered the killings to frame you?"

"Nah. If da wolverine taught I was a snitch, which I iz nots, he wouldst have had a hit outs on me."

"Would make more sense," agreed Nick. "If an animal hated you enough to commit murder, they would try to off you rather than killing three other animals and hoping to frame you for it."

Duke nodded, "Ain't it da truth, but youse iz sayin' dat will nots get me out?"

"No. It just means the murders weren't done to frame you. Someone's using you for a patsy. That's what Judy and I think. But the detectives at the Fourth still think you did the killings."

"And whoever set you up is using the Smokey Joe angle to pin it on you. Nick and I would like to know some more about Smokey Joe and the mob war between his gang and the Weaselonis." She looked over at the grandmother. "The fact you led the Weaselonis after your husband was murdered is out on the internet. It's easy to find out that Duke is your grandson." She looked back at Duke. "The Smokey Joe challenge coin. Where did you get it? How many other animals know you had it?"

Nick looked at the grandmother, "I'm guessing you gave it to him. Recently?"

"I does not remember hows old I was when Gran gave it ta me," Duke answered. "Years ago. I does not know hows many animals mights know dat I has it... Every sos often some animals haz read about gang wars and looks me up. If dey buys some merchandize I spins a yarn about about da evil times in da city."

"You show the challenge medal?"

"Usuallies. Never saw no reasons to not do so."

"Recently?" demanded Nick. "Any recent requests."

"Six weeks? Two monts? I does not mark da requests on my calendar."

"It was before the murders?"

"Yeah, I iz pretty sures of dat."

"Remember the species," Judy asked. "It might be the animal who set you up."

Duke concentrated, but got nothing. "I meets maybe two dozen species a day. I does nots remember any animal what I talks wit' unless dere is somethin' special. Like dis rabbit who overpays fors a DVD."

"Bad luck to talk about bootleg DVDs in front of the police," Nick reminded him.

"Shut your trap, Dominck," Rosa warned.

Judy reminded the old weasel they were trying to find information that might help her grandson.

"They claim hypnosis can sometimes help bring memories back," Nick told Duke. "They say it. I don't know if it's true. Sounds bogus to me, and I suspect we'd need a court order to attempt it."

"What do you mean, it sounds bogus?" demanded Judy.

"I've worked with a hypnotist. They can plant false memories while you're in a suggestive state. As I recall they won't let it be used as testimony in court."

"A police hypnotist would not–"

Duke coughed to get their attention, "If youse woulds not mind, my time iz limited."

"Sorry," apologized Nick. "If you happen to remember anything, write it down."

"Exactly where was the ammunition found?" asked Judy. "The report called it a cache. Claimed you had caches of material around Zootopia. How many to you have? Where? How easy would it be for an animal to discover them?

"Keep your trap shut," his grandmother warned again.

"We're still trying to help him."

"I does nots know da meaning of cache. I gots several lockers rented in public spaces around da city. Bus terminals an' places likes dat."

"A bus terminal was where the ammo was planted," confirmed Nick. "Sounds like you're counting on a crowd to animals around to keep anyone from trying to get into a locker with a crow bar. But it also means you wouldn't notice if someone was watching you."

"But there's video tape of the bus terminal," Judy said in an excited voice. "It may show the animal that planted the ammunition."

Nick knew there were a lot of ways for a smart animal to avoid being captured on tape. But even smart animals made dumb mistakes. "We head to the bus station and ask to see the video tape as soon as we take Missus Weaseloni back."

Judy felt the questions about Duke had been answered. It seemed unlikely the killings had been done specifically to frame Duke. But whether the murders were really connected with the Smokey Joe mob, or the connection was a distraction still wasn't clear. "There are a lot of holes in the information about Smokey Joe." She looked at Rosa, "If this really is about something in his old gang any information might help us break the case. Can you tell us anything about the real Smokey Joe?"

The old weasel snorted, "Of course. I might be the only animal alive who met him."

"Youse met 'im, Gran?" Duke asked in disbelief, "da real Joe?"

"The real deal. It would have been dangerous for anyone to try and pass himself off as Joe, his gang would not have cared for that."

"What can you tell us about him?" Judy wanted to know.

"Good dancer, and good paws... Very good paws."

"I does not needs ta hears dis," muttered Duke.

"I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, and still trying to earn my place in... I hadn't married my late husband. Went to a bar where Joe's gang were known to hang out and asked if he'd dance with me. The Weaseloni mob was already skirmishing with Joe's mob, but he and I went out on the dance floor – he didn't know I was working with, or rather, I didn't think he suspected. I was supposed to stick a shiv in him, I was going to wait until the end of the dance. Dance ended. We stepped away from each other. He smiled at me and I reached for my blade. He'd lifted it from me during the dance. I hadn't felt a thing. Good paws – didn't feel a thing. An animal with class, he let me live – just gave me a warning I wouldn't get out alive if I tried anything again."

"What was his species," asked Judy.

"Otter."

"You said the Weaseloni mob was already skirmishing with Joe's gang at that point?"

"That's right, it got worse. Joe had a big mob, he was smart and he welcomed every species in. That's probably why the challenge coins, and why there was confusion about his species. You knew that a raccoon, or a possum, was part of Joe's gang and you just assume Joe was a raccoon or a possum. We were a weasel gang. I don't know if he had any weasels or not. But when he started trying to muscle into our territory we fought back. And we weren't doing so hot. Our territory kept shrinking. And then Joe disappeared, and it all went to Hell."

"I don't understand. What do you mean, Joe disappeared?"

"What do you think I mean? He was just gone."

"What happened to him?"

The old weasel shrugged, "Who knows? We didn't off him. I know that. There were a couple other mobs he was pressuring as well, but they were like us – on the ropes and just trying to survive. Could one of them bumped him off? I never heard anyone taking credit. Story that went around was that he kicked the gong around, and–"

"Kicked the gong around?" Judy interrupted.

"Opium habit," explained Nick.

"Got his frail hooked too," continued the old weasel. "She died... Minnie. Her name was Minnie. The old blue James Street Infirmary. Joe went to see the body and, no one claims to have seen him after that. More than fifty years ago – maybe sixty."

"And it all went to Hell, you said," Nick reminded her.

"His gang fell apart without him to hold it together. He kept the species working together. After he disappeared species started quarreling in the gang. Those of us who'd lost territory started taking it back. Probably biggest gang warfare the city has seen – at least among shorts. Smalls might... Nobody notices the small mobs at war with each other."

"Except the smalls," Judy corrected her.

"Nobody cares if smalls off smalls," argued Rosa.

"We care now. City is developing small police units."

"So I hear. I'll believe it when I see it."

Nick noticed the time. "We need to go. Thanks for your help," he told the weasels.

"We'll check the bus terminal for video after we take you back," Judy promised the grandmother.