Badge & O'Possum: Ace Attorneys

by Mind Jack

In an increasingly crime-ridden Zootopia, murder is nothing new, and with it comes the need for a firm finger of justice to defend the innocent. Unfortunately for the innocent, their only defense might just be Eric Badge and Delilah O'Possum, a pair of civil lawyers who have never taken on a murder trial in their lives.

3. Turnabout Da Capo: Part 3

Episode 1: Turnabout Da Capo

Part 3: Jumpstarting to Conclusions

11:46 AM

Zootopian Central Courthouse - Defendant Lobby No. 3

"That was far too close," Eric said with a sigh. He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve, dabbing his forehead with it.

"Stuffyyyyyyyy!"

He was caught off-guard by a flying fuzz-noodle. Millie's hug actually wrapped her body around his neck like a scarf. "You're amazing! I can't believe all the stuff you found out! Can you help me down? I think I'm stuck."

He gently helped unwrap her from around his neck. "Thank you, Mil. But we're not out of the woods yet. We need a real ringer piece of evidence if we're going to take advantage of this."

"Yeah," Delilah agreed. "That coroner lady might prove she could've been killed earlier, but big whoop if we don't know how."

"Perhaps going over the events again could help. Millie, could you describe what happened that night?"

She quirked her head. "Huh? I already told you that."

"I know, but in detail this time. We have more context now."

"We also have actual evidence now," Delilah added, handing her the crime scene and car photos. "Maybe this will jog your memory a bit more?"

"I don't remember much," Millie admitted, flipping through the photos as she began to recall it all. "But I'll do my best…"

"Good morning," Millie greeted, using a guest keycard to beep herself into the evidence room, better known by some as 'The Coop'.

One of the true believers in that name was the sheep situated behind the front desk, who glanced over the counter at her. "Morning," Bethany said, apparently not thinking it was so good. It WAS exceedingly early, so maybe she just didn't want to be too optimistic yet, but her response was definitely appropriate in hindsight. "You're the guest intern from Tooth & Claw, right?"

"T-That's right," Millie replied, keeping her purple turtleneck sweater pulled down yet still barely audible. Walking into an actual police precinct for such an important job was a bit overwhelming, even if this sheep was about the furthest thing from intimidating. "I'm here to document the evidence from… IC-9." It took her a moment to remember the case number, and another to pass her ID to the sheep for verification.

Bethany nodded, frowning a little in distaste as she'd obviously recognized that case number. She soon returned Millie's card and pointed towards the back. "The box you're looking for is on the back wall, bottom shelf. Let me know if you need any help," she offered, despite not looking eager to give it.

"Thank you," Millie managed, smiling politely as she scurried towards the back. While it was more than a little tempting to peek in some of the other boxes, she had a job to do. Seeking out the box labeled 'IC-9' she pulled it off the shelf and opened it up.

Instantly, she understood why the sheep had looked so uncomfortable. Knowing vaguely that this case involved a serial killer was one thing, but actually seeing the tools of the trade in person was enough to make her wish she'd been a bit more hesitant to take on this job.

But take it on she had, and she couldn't very well just walk away now. Millie pulled out the white smartphone Tooth & Claw had lent her and began snapping pictures, jotting down all relevant info on each piece in between. She took particular notice of a certain bloodied ice pick that almost seemed to jump out at her, probably because it had been used to stab people. A deeply unpleasant task, but she forced herself through it, documenting everything as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Going over that case, huh?"

Millie jumped. She was so focused on her job that she hadn't even noticed another mammal enter. The goth heifer, whom she now knew to be Detective Wellington, was standing over her and looking down at the IC-9 evidence in obvious concern.

"Um… Y-Yeah. Are you familiar with it?" Millie asked.

"More than I'd like to be. I just hoped it was finally over." Wellington glanced at the white phone in her paw. "Your employers have got quite the uphill battle ahead of them. I'd wish 'em luck, except… I kinda don't. If I were you, I'd finish up and get out of here as soon as possible."

Millie didn't have the chance to respond to that vaguely-threatening suggestion before Wellington turned away and went over to another shelf. Not that she was sure she could formulate a response anyway.

Thankfully, it didn't take her much longer to finish. After putting everything back where she'd found it and returning the box to the shelf, Millie took her leave, passing a certain horse on the way out.

"Then I curled up in my car for a nap and you know the rest from there," Millie finished, still sifting absently through the photos.

"So you had a conversation with the victim?" Eric asked.

"Calling it a 'conversation' is a bit of a stretch, but yeah. Sorry I didn't bring that up before. It didn't seem important."

"And I'm not sure it is," he admitted. "But it does confirm two things. First, that the ice pick was indeed still in the evidence room when you left it…"

"I should hope that wasn't in doubt," Delilah remarked.

"And second, that the victim has some personal connection to this 'IC-9' case. Why else would she react that way?"

"Well, she did seem to recognize that Millie was coming from Tooth & Claw, and it looks like those guys are pretty unpopular among the police," Delilah said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully with her tail. " Not that I can blame 'em."

"True, but I can't shake the feeling that there's more to it than that. Do you remember anything else, Millie?" Eric asked. "Any small detail could be important. Um… Millie?"

Millie had stopped to stare at one of the photos. "Huh... That's weird."

"What is?"

Millie pointed to the photo in question, one showing her back seats. "Those jumper cables. They're not mine. I'm not allowed to have any after that time at Taco Queen with the fish tank."

(That was a dark day. But also extraordinarily bright.) "Now that you mention it, they do look too big for you."

It wasn't just that either. There was something off about this set of jumper cables that Eric couldn't quite put his finger on. Then again, he wasn't exactly a car expert.

"Hey, Delilah. You're familiar with random junk. What do you make of-?"

"Court will now resume!" the bailiff announced. "Please return to the courtroom!"

(Thirty minutes my striped tuckus!) "Nevermind. We'll have to go over this inside. I just wish we weren't flying by the seats of our pants for once."

"But then it wouldn't be as fun," Delilah said simply. "You're doing fine so far, Rick. Just go with the flow. Have a snack if you need some energy." She held up another bag of Zooritos.

"When did you get those?!"

---

12:07 PM

Zootopian Central Courthouse - Courtroom No. 2

Back at the witness stand was another unusual sight: a hairless cat. She wore a very obviously bloodstained set of blue medical scrubs and a mask.

Loggins banged her gavel. "Court is now back in session. I must say, that was an incredibly quick autopsy."

"I did it with extreme rigor!" the cat said cheerily. "...mortis."

Nobody laughed. Someone coughed. A cricket chirped. "Hush, Jim! They don't allow pets in court!" a voice in the gallery whispered.

"Witness, state your name and profession," Oinkbaum said, very deliberately leaving out the 'please'. The very fact that she was standing here at all was already detrimental to her case.

"Megan Skinner," she said brightly. "I'm a coroner with Precinct 1. Though I have to say, I'm not used to my work being so close to home."

Nobody laughed. Or made any sound at all. It seemed even the cricket was offended now.

(I'm guessing she doesn't have much of a life outside the lifeless.) "Ms. Skinner, can you give us the results of your reexamination, please?"

"Wait, so we're going to update the autopsy report?" Delilah asked. "We've become that which we swore to destroy."

"Yeah, it was pretty weird," Skinner said, folding her arms and turning her eyes to the ceiling in thought. "I got rushed really hard to finish up the first autopsy, so I apparently missed a few things. Those burns on her back were actually a little bit postmortem, but the ones on her face weren't."

The gallery erupted.

Loggins banged her gavel. "Order! Ms. Skinner, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying she was definitely already dead when she hit that junction box," Skinner confirmed. "I don't know for how long, but it couldn't have been that much time. She did die from being electrocuted though."

Wellington's Autopsy Report updated in the Court Record

Junction Box updated in the Court Record

Objection!

Oinkbaum slammed one hoof on her desk hard enough to make her pearls jiggle. "This is asinine! Does anyone at your precinct know how to do their jobs?! I'd demand to speak to your supervisor, but they're probably already in attendance!"

"Can confirm," a deep, accented voice said from somewhere up in the gallery.

"Hey, if you wanted it done right the first time, you shouldn't have rushed me!" Skinner said stubbornly. "I mean, it's not like the body was going anywhere."

"Well, I'm not convinced you did it right this time," Oinkbaum insisted. "After all, our investigation of the crime scene found nothing on B1 that could've been used to electrocute the victim at the time of the murder."

"Actually… that may not be entirely true."

The pig's head whipped towards Eric, blowing hot steam through her nostrils. "What are you talking about now, Badge?"

(This is a long shot, but also our only shot at the moment.) "I'd like to direct the court's attention back to the photos of the defendant's car. Specifically, the items on the floor of the back seats. See those jumper cables there? Clearly too large for the defendant."

Oinkbaum barely gave the picture another glance. "So is her car. What's your point?"

"Ms. Skinner…" Eric turned back to the furless feline. "Would it be possible to electrocute someone using jumper cables?"

Skinner blinked in surprise, but soon put her murder-oriented mind to work. "Hmmm… It's possible, yes, but I don't know about feasible. The amount of voltage running through a car battery wouldn't ordinarily be enough to kill someone as large as Detective Wellington."

"Ordinarily?" Eric prompted.

"Well, if it had some kind of conduit, especially around her head, that would probably be enough to make it lethal," Skinner explained. "Like something metal, basically."

Eric felt a spark of inspiration, but at a safe voltage. He looked back at the court record, and the image of Wellington smiling back at him. "I believe I know just the thing. This is how Detective Wellington was killed!"

Take that!

"Take a close look at the victim's face. Anything stick out? Like that big honking nose ring of hers?"

Skinner looked surprised. "Oh yeah! She did have one of those! That would make a great conduit! Though, uh, not great for her obviously."

Objection!

"On an officer's salary?" Oinkbaum argued, sweating like a pig. "I-It was probably made of cheap plastic!"

"I don't think so! I was the one who actually had to touch it, you know!" Skinner countered. "That thing was pure metal, perfectly conductive!"

"Mr. Badge," Loggins cut in. "I hate having to ask this, but are you seriously trying to suggest that the victim was killed by jumper cables attached to her nose ring?"

"Exactly!" Oinkbaum said. "It's ridiculous! It's absurd! It's grossly insensitive!"

"And it's exactly what happened," Eric finished. "Prove otherwise. Because right now, the evidence is no longer on your side."

Jumper Cables added to the Court Record

"Your 'evidence' is barely circumstantial! I want definitive proof before I even consider this as a potential murder weapon!" She crossed her arms, not budging an inch. How many stairwells and open doorways had she blocked to master this skill?

"Definitive proof, eh? I accept your challenge!" Eric said.

"Uh... Rick?" Delilah asked. "With the way you so boldly declared that, I assume you actually have something, right?"

"Of course! I just, uh, gotta look over that evidence real quick." He stood up straight and looked down at the small image on the large photograph. This would be a lot easier if he actually had the jumper cables here to rotate every which way and examine, but he doubted the judge would wait around for that.

He had to squint, but he could finally make out what it was that had bothered him out in the lobby. "What is that on the handles?"

Instead of typical plier-like handles, the jumper cables had a strange, cylindrical cup atop them. Inside, a small button was visible.

Oinkbaum glared. "How insensitive can you be? That's an attachment to make them usable with hooves. Every hooved mammal in the city needs them if they want to own a car."

Skinner raised a claw. "Not necessarily, if they have cloven hooves developed enough to-"

"Don't go handsplaining me!"

The feline paused. "Fair enough. In any case, I'd say it's highly unlikely these jumper cables belong to the defendant. Between the size and the grips, they'd be incredibly awkward for her to use."

"Which would imply that a hooved mammal slipped them into her car," Eric concluded. "Likely to hide them, with what limited space they had."

Hold it!

A flurry of hoofsteps broke away from their seat and ran back up to the witness stand. "Just come out and say it, why don't you?!" a panicked Bethany cried. "You think I did it!"

"STRAY SHEEP! RAWR RUFF RUFF RUFF!" Samson was quick to bound up and join her. Or, more accurately, lunge for Bethany's face while she dodged around him, Skinner trying desperately to avoid bumping into either of them as they ran circles around her.

(That poor witness stand needs its space.) "I'm... not accusing you of anything, Ms. Woohlberg. Please calm down."

Bethany neither calmed nor stopped running because Samson was still chasing her.

"The witnesses will stop chasing each other!" Loggins ordered, with several loud gavel slams.

Samson finally stopped. "Apologies, Your Honor."

"I think I may have an idea," Eric began. "But I'll need the three of you to testify one more time on your actions that day."

"The three of us?" Skinner said in surprise.

Eric nodded. "Yes. You too."

"Nice!" The cat perked up. "I've always wanted to be part of one of these, but the circumstances of my job generally don't call for it. I guess every murder has a silver lining, huh?"

(Don't make me start accusing YOU now.)

"Mr. Badge, exactly what do you wish to question the witnesses about now?" Loggins asked. "I believe we've already covered their roles in all this."

"Some more important and notable than others!" Bethany said quickly.

"Indeed," Eric replied. "Except for one thing. I'd like to ask where you all were directly after the murder."

Oinkbaum snorted. "You're grasping harder than today's youth asking for handouts. This is clearly a waste of time, Your Honor."

"I admit, I'm unsure where the defense is going with this, but I'll allow it," Loggins conceded.

Eric breathed a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, Your Honor."

"Where are you going with this, Rick?" asked a very confused Delilah.

"You'll see soon enough," Eric said vaguely. "Let's just say I'm trying to narrow things down."

"Oh, is this one of those things where you can't explain your plan early or it'll ruin the dramatic impact? By all means, go for it then."

(I wish it was that simple.) "Witnesses, please testify for us." (Unfortunately, it's more than dramatic impact I'm worried about. I have little doubt there will be drama though.)

Witness Testimony - We Three ZPD

Bethany: If you MUST know, I stayed up in the Coop the whole time. I was still on my shift.

Samson: I too stayed where I was. On constant vigilance at my outpost!

Skinner: As for me, I was going home. My shift was already over, and good riddance to that.

"See?!" Oinkbaum said. "This is a pointless waste of time! Why does no one ever listen to me?!"

"It's not as much of a waste as you might think at first glance," Eric assured.

"You had better be going somewhere with this, Mr. Badge," Loggins warned. "If this testimony turns out to be useless, I will penalize you."

"Understood, Your Honor," Eric said, swallowing nervously.

Cross-Examination - We Three ZPD

Bethany: If you MUST know, I stayed up in the Coop the whole time. I was still on my shift.

Hold it!

Bethany jumped. "Wha...? You really are gonna accuse me, aren't you?" She started sobbing uncontrollably.

"I am not."

"Oh." She stopped crying surprisingly quickly. "So why'd you stop me then?"

"I wish to clarify. You never left your station? Not even once?"

Samson started to growl at the word 'left'.

"Nope!" Bethany said quickly. "I stayed right where I was! I'd have to go through the lobby if I did wanna go anywhere. I walk to work. So loads of mammals would have seen me, and I certainly wasn't murdering any of them!"

"That's… good to know. I suppose you could add that to-"

"I'd like to add that to my testimony!" she said before he could finish.

"…Granted."

Bethany: And just to make this clear, I was absolutely in no way murdering ANYONE at the time. Not even a little!

Samson: I too stayed where I was. On constant vigilance at my outpost!

Hold it!

"You're sure about that?" Eric pressed. "Even after the crash and the blackout, you stayed put?"

"Indubitably!" Samson said, standing straight with a paw over his heart. "Why, for many generations, my ancestors-!"

Hold it!

"We can discuss your noble line another day! Just the abridged version, for now."

"Ah. Righto. The punishment of the guilty cannot wait for me to tell tales. Anyway..."

Samson: A true Shepard NEVER abandons his duties!

Skinner: As for me, I was going home. My shift was already over, and good riddance to that.

Hold it!

"Good riddance? What do you mean?"

She threw her bald paws up. "I had a mountain of paperwork to get through, and at my size, that's not hyperbole. I wanted nothing more than to pack up and head home to find something to watch on Petflix."

(So she was the only one moving about? Then she may be our only hope.) "And did you see anything suspicious on your way out? Anything at all?"

She thought it over for a moment, then shook her head. "Sorry. My head's a lot clearer now than it was then, but I think I'd remember something like that. Heck, I didn't see anyone at all before I left. If I had, I'd remember them for being in my way. It's a cat thing."

"Having a little trouble finding something to work with?" Oinkbaum asked mockingly.

"As a matter of fact, no." Eric smiled, realizing that he'd found just the thing. "Ms. Skinner, please-"

"-add that to my testimony. I know. You don't get to be a coroner without learning to recognize patterns."

Skinner: I didn't see anyone at all on the way out.

Objection!

Skinner actually jumped. "What gives? Bethany seems too innocent, so you round on me? I may be in the business of cutting people open, but that doesn't mean I'm a killer. I really didn't see anything!"

"I don't believe you're the killer, Ms. Skinner," Eric assured. "In fact, I think you're telling the absolute truth. But it isn't what you saw that concerns me. It's what you didn't. Or rather..." His grin slowly grew. "...who you didn't."

"Eh?" Skinner's mask slipped up over her eyes, forcing her to pull it down. "What do you mean? There was nobody on the way down."

"And isn't that odd?" Eric asked. "Because as I recall, there is someone you should have seen: Samson Shepard! His post is directly next to the only entrance to the parking garage! Yet you didn't see him?"

The paw over Samson's heart turned into a clenched fist, and he flinched as if having chest pains.

"Oh yeah!" Skinner recalled. "You weren't there! In fact, when I passed it, the security booth was all locked up and shuttered!"

"Care to explain?" Eric asked.

"You always ask too nicely," Delilah remarked, about as sick of this ditzy canine as he was. "Come on, nail this perp to the wall!"

"I'm not accusing him either, Delilah."

"Wait… really? Welp, I'm lost again."

"I don't remember locking up…" Samson admitted. "But now that you mention it, there was a brief period where I left my post. Only for a few minutes, mind you."

"Of course." (Is it possible to return a family shield?) "Change your testimony to reflect that then. Please."

Samson: A true Shepard NEVER abandons his duty! Well, except for that one time.

Hold it!

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but… why did you leave?"

"Well, you have to understand first that I was really only intending to have a look. See if I needed to report anything. An important task, you must agree."

(Not the part I'm objecting to.) "Go on."

"So I go to check it out and who do I see but Sir Oates! He was down there slapping irons on the young maiden. But when he saw me approaching, he called on my services! He wished for me to watch the prisoner while he left on a noble crusade to tell the others what had transpired."

"So Detective Oates wasn't with Millie the whole time?" Eric asked, leaning in a bit.

"No, sir! He left that job to me and took off to spread the word!"

Eric noticed that Skinner seemed to be holding back some words of her own, mumbling into her mask.

Pardon me!

Skinner yelped so loudly that her mask shot out and came back to smack her in the face. "Aggh! What are you trying to do, wake the dead?! Because that doesn't work. Believe me, I've tried."

"Not to wake her. Only speak for her," Eric replied. "But you looked as if you had something to say."

"Ah. Right. Probably shouldn't mutter in court." Skinner scratched her head in embarrassment. "I was just calling you loony because I didn't see Oates either. He'd have had to pass me to get into the building, and I never got to go home because of all this happening."

"Wait, WHAT?!" Oinkbaum exclaimed. "Badge, you better not be going where I think you are with this!"

He nodded. "I believe I know where Detective Oates really was, and why Ms. Skinner couldn't see him. If you could all direct your attention back to the diagram of the parking garage." He pulled it out himself, slapping a claw against one particular spot. "THIS is where our good detective was hiding."

Got it!

"My... My outpost?" Samson asked, having to part his bangs to ensure his eyes weren't fooling him.

"That's right. If he was there, it would explain why Ms. Skinner overlooked him and why you don't remember closing it up." (Not that your memory has been terribly reliable thus far.)

"Quit fooling around!" Oinkbaum demanded, slamming a hoof down. "Do you have any idea what you're implying right now?!"

"I do," Eric said, fighting down the chill creeping up his spine. The courtroom had become eerily silent all of a sudden. "There's only one reason I can think of for Detective Oates to have been in there: to erase the security footage."

Oinkbaum reeled back. "YOU'RE INSANE!"

The silence ended. If Eric thought the gallery was rowdy before, now they absolutely erupted with hate for the defense. He could've sworn he heard some actual death threats in there.

Loggins slammed her gavel down. "Order! Mr. Badge! That is a very dire accusation. If you say that Detective Oates erased the security footage, you'd be accusing him of tampering with a crime scene."

Millie and Delilah looked at him wordlessly, clearly worried for his safety.

"I'm accusing him of more than that, Your Honor," Eric replied. "If he erased the security footage, it stands to reason that there was something on there he didn't want us to see. It can't yet be proven for certain that he murdered Detective Wellington, but neither can it be denied that it's a possibility. The defense DEMANDS that he testify!"

"Unbelievable..." Bethany gasped. "I mean, it's great that you're not accusing me anymore, but still."

"You commit blasphemy, sir!" Samson shouted. "To hurl these scandalous accusations at a knight of such renown!"

"And they say I'm tactless." Skinner shook her head. "How low do you have to sink to accuse a detective of killing his own partner?"

Eric's pointed finger faltered just a bit. "...Partner?"

Whoa there!

The courtroom settled down just enough that Eric could hear another pair of hooves approaching the stand once again. And there seemed to be another pair on top of that... clapping?

"I gotta say, I haven't seen the crowds this riled up since my racing days." The other witnesses cleared the way as Detective Oates returned to the stand, none of them wanting to get involved any further. "You've got some serious moxie to make a call like that. I could almost respect it if it weren't such an insult." He calmly polished his badge, not even looking at him. "Nana always told me I should never take anything lying down, or else I might not get the chance to stand up again. She was wise like that, y'see."

"I'd say you've done plenty of lying so far, Detective," Eric said firmly, earning him more gasps, threats, and declarations of heresy. "But right now, what I need from you is testimony. If you can refute my accusations, then now is your chance."

He idly rolled the hay around in his mouth before speaking. "Of course. It's my honor on the line now. But let's make one thing clear. You ain't getting off lightly for this one." Oates grit his teeth and glared, the hay snapping in half. "I'll have your badge, Badge!"

"Clever wordplay, but I won't be the one losing my badge after this," Eric replied. "Now. Enough sparring. Let's get to the main event."

Loggins nodded. "Gotta admit, the defense has a point. I wanna hear your response to this accusation, Detective."

Oates nodded, a second piece of hay popping out of his mouth to replace the lost one. "Alrighty. I'll tell ya everything you need to know."

Witness Testimony - Out of the Gate

Ol' Welly and I go way back. We've been partners since we joined the force.

We've worked on a lotta cases together too, including the one involvin' that little needle in the haystack.

So it's unthinkable to accuse me of killing her. I don't got the motive.

Unless you think you can prove otherwise?

The gallery muttered agreements and further condemnations towards the defense as Eric gave a scowl. (Well, well. Look who's suddenly making coherent testimony.)

"A surprisingly concise point," Loggins agreed.

"A good testimony is like a good sugar cube," Oates said with a grin. "Short and sweet."

"Mr. Badge, you may begin your cross-examination."

"What do you think, Rick?" Delilah asked.

"I think he's insulting my intelligence. The contradiction here is clear as day."

"So… what? It's another trap?"

"Frankly, I don't care what it is. I can't afford to be cautious anymore." Eric spread his paws across the bench, like a sumo wrestler squaring off against a slightly less chubby opponent. "Detective or not, I'm taking him down."

Cross-Examination - Out of the Gate

Ol' Welly and I go way back. We've been partners since we joined the force.

We've worked on many cases together too, including the one involvin' that little needle in the haystack.

So it's unthinkable to accuse me of killing her. I don't got the motive.

Unless you think you can prove otherwise?

Objection!

Oates flinched, gritting his teeth yet forming a small smirk. "That was quick."

Eric glowered at him. "I'm not putting up with any more puttering, taunts, or traps. If this case is as high-profile as Prosecutor Oinkbaum says, then that stolen evidence would be just as juicy of a target for a detective looking to rise in the ranks. I'll also remind you that the jumper cables are made for a hooved mammal, such as a horse. And as first on the scene, you must have been nearby during the time of the murder."

He tapped the ice pick in the court record. "Motive."

He tapped the jumper cables. "Method."

Lastly, he pointed to Oates' name on the evidence room log. "Opportunity. Now please, tell me again how undisputable your innocence is."

"Rrrrr… Gwaaaaaaaaah!" Oates staggered back as if physically struck, once again losing his trusty hay, then slumped forward onto the witness stand. "Heh. I figured you'd go for the daily double and accuse me of the theft too, but boy, you aimed straight for the jugular on that one."

"D-Detective Oates!" Loggins gasped. "You're not admitting…"

Whoa there!

Oates reached up with one hoof and wiped his lip, popping out a third hay in the process. "I admit nothing, Your Honor, aside from the defense's unexpected ruthlessness. A real spirited competitor, that one. But now… it's time for this dark horse to ride again."

Slowly, Oates slipped off the lanyard from around his neck, holding it on his right hoof. As he stood up straight, he began to spin it around his hoof, gradually picking up speed until…

"YAH! YAH!"

He whipped it into the side of the stand, then took off, galloping in place. "And Totes McOates is off like a shot! Can his maiden opponent keep up?"

Eric reeled back in shock. "W-Who are you calling a maiden?!" But really, that was the least of his concerns about this disturbing and very confusing imagery.

"What's wrong, Badge? I take it you weren't the front runner of your graduating class?" Eric wasn't sure what the gallery had to say about this turn of events as the stallion's continuous galloping effectively drowned out everything else. "Now, I believe you mentioned something about me being first on scene?"

"Shake it off, Rick," Delilah said, physically shaking him for emphasis. "You have a job to do."

Managing to compose himself again, Eric nodded. "That's right. Perhaps you'd like to explain yourself, Detective?"

"Oh, there's nothing strange about me placin' first. YAH! YAH!" He whipped the stand a few more times. "But by the end of this next sprint, you'll see that you've bet on the wrong odds, boy."

"Yes, Mr. Badge," Oinkbaum taunted. "And I look forward to watching the show."

(Are you even relevant anymore?)

Witness Testimony - The Race is On

I was down in that dank dungeon the night of the murder.

But I was on the other side, clear across from the ramp by a good ways.

I heard a big ruckus. Must've been the minute that ol' Welly crossed the finish line.

I galloped as hard as I could, but came in second anyhow.

I got there quick enough to clap irons on the culprit, though.

(I can't believe he's still running.) The clopping of hooves did give his testimony a certain rhythm though.

"That matches what we see on the security footage," Oinkbaum said. "It easily explains away all of the defense's baseless speculation."

Eric growled. (The only thing baseless here is you ever getting a law degree. That testimony stinks.)

He wasn't the only one who thought so. Oates may have been a horse, but the gallery clearly had begun to smell a rat. The cops who'd been angrily yelling had now turned to low murmurs amongst each other, and more than one suspicious look was thrown the way of Oates.

Loggins banged her gavel to quiet them. "The defense will begin its cross-examination."

"Yes, Your Honor."

Cross-Examination - The Race is On

I was down in that dank dungeon the night of the murder.

But I was on the other side, clear across from the ramp by a good ways.

Hold it!

"Was that where your car was parked?" Eric asked, glancing down at the parking garage diagram for reference. Unfortunately, no actual cars were marked on it aside from Millie's.

"Nope!" Oates replied. "Had a long day of deskwork. It's nice and cool down there, so I walked around a bit to stretch my legs. I was around the lower end of B1."

Eric frowned. Even without direct evidence, where Oates' car was parked could have been easily proven. (Once again: eccentric, not dumb.) "You expect us to believe that you just happened to be 'taking a walk' at the time of the murder?"

"Is that so unusual? I like to take evening jogs too, and statistically speaking, several murders have gone down somewhere every time I finish a lap."

"That's… morbid."

"But accurate!" Skinner shouted from the gallery.

"In any case, I'm afraid you don't have the proof to say otherwise," Oates continued, breaking briefly from his run to jump an invisible hurdle. "If you're tryin' to trip me up, you'll have to try harder than that."

I heard a big ruckus. Must've been the minute that ol' Welly crossed the finish line.

Hold it!

"At the time of the crash though, Detective Wellington was already dead," Eric reminded.

"So it seems," he admitted. "But I couldn't have known that at the time."

Eric resisted the urge to rise to the obvious bait. "Of course. But there is the matter of the murder weapon. There is little doubt now that the jumper cables were the cause of death, and we've established that they were impossible for my client to wield-"

Whoa there!

"As I recall, Ms. Skinner only said they would be 'awkward' for her to wield, which is a far cry from impossible. Like racin' on a muddy track versus one covered in ice." He jumped another hurdle. "Point is, the little lady already bought that oversized saddle. Who's to say she didn't get the wrong stirrups too?"

Eric grunted, slamming a fist on the desk in frustration.

I galloped as hard as I could, but came in second anyhow.

Hold it!

(I don't have much testimony left. I need to get something soon. There has to be something here to slow even HIS sprint.)

Suddenly, Eric's eyes widened in realization. "About how long do you think it took you to get to the scene?"

"Dunno. Quicker than you'd manage, I'm sure. You couldn't stay within two furlongs of me."

Eric had a point to raise, but briefly turned to Delilah first. "How long is a furlong?"

She was already blatantly looking it up on Zoogle. "One-eighth of a mile."

"Right. And how long is a mile?"

"You've lived here since you were ten, Rick. Learn Imperial."

"Never!" Clearing his throat, he turned back to Oates. "So nothing slowed you down? You had no trouble getting there?"

Oates reared up, puffing his chest out with a neighing laugh. "Boy, it was flat ground and a ramp. I'm a champion racer. Nothing there slowed me down."

(Got you.) "Please add that to your testimony."

"YAH! YAH!" Oates yelled, whipping the bench. "No need for that! Let's finish this off!"

Loggins glared at him sternly. "The witness will revise his testimony, whether he likes it or not."

Oates stumbled for a moment, but kept on running. "Y-Yes, Your Honor."

I galloped like crazy. Nothing got in my way, so I made great time.

Objection!

Eric grinned. "You may be quick, but you can't fast talk me. You're forgetting something very important, Detective. Our original 'murder weapon'."

He stumbled again at the photo Eric held up. "The junction box?"

"At the time you claim to have been on the other side of B1, the power was out," Eric reminded him. "It would have been pitch black, with several rows of cars between you and the crime scene. Even with night vision, the sudden change in lighting would have created a virtual obstacle course!"

Now Oates finally tripped, cracking his chin on the witness stand. "G-aaaaack!"

Objection!

"Obviously, the witness was simply exaggerating!" Oinkbuam insisted. "Does it really make any difference how quickly he got there? All that matters is that he did, and just in time to arrest the defendant!"

"Just in time indeed," Eric said, his grin not fading. "For we have evidence that his claim was no mere exaggeration."

Take that!

"Recall the security footage we viewed earlier. At about 4:12:32 AM, we see Millie's car crash into the junction box, causing the blackout. It would be at this point that Detective Oates would logically hear the crash and come rushing towards the scene. And if he really was where he says he was, that should have taken him at least a minute or two."

He made both the detective and prosecutor jump with a slam on his desk. "And yet! At 4:12:51 AM, mere seconds after the lights come back on, we see him run down the ramp and arrest Millie."

"So where was he then?" Loggins asked, almost as a formality at this point.

"I'll show you," Eric said, pulling up the parking garage diagram once more. "Here's where Oates really was when the lights went out."

Got it!

"Right here at the top of the ramp. From here, it would've been a straight shot to the bottom. Even the blackout wouldn't have been a hindrance. He'd already know which way to go and could use the crashed car's taillights as a beacon. It's no wonder he got there so fast!"

"Urrgh!" Oates held on to the witness stand and bucked wildly from side to side, as if having trouble keeping the stationary object under control. "N-Now hold on! Totes McOates doesn't use shortcuts! I race fair and square!"

"Is that so?" Eric asked, jabbing an accusatory claw at him. "Because as cops and racehorses go, you're as dirty as they come!"

Oates was thrown off, his hay going flying as he fell ungracefully to the floor. "Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!"

The gallery muttered in uncertainty, but none seemed to have any more complaints to lob at the defense. Even Oinkbaum was visibly struggling to say anything more.

Eric crossed his arms. "Hmph. I believe that settles that. Your Honor, I move to indict-"

Whoa there!

A firm hoof came down on top of the witness stand, pulling a furious Oates up again. "This race… ain't over yet, Badge."

"Are you sure about that?" Eric asked confidently. "We may not have a jury, but our gallery is packed with your fellow officers, all of whom are trained to recognize such suspicious circumstances for what they are."

"Yeah! They're good at detecting bullshit!"

"Thank you, Delilah."

But indeed they were, as the gallery was rapidly losing any support they had for Detective Oates.

"Could he have really…?"

"Always knew there was something off about him."

"Never trust a mammal who uses that many similes."

"Shuddup, all of you!" Oates slammed both hooves down on the stand, glaring firmly at the badger. "This is between me and him." And out popped the fourth strand of hay.

(Is he storing those for winter?)

"You mean to say that you still have testimony to give?" asked Judge Loggins, even she not looking terribly trusting of him anymore.

"That's right. And it's all I'll need. YAH! YAH!" Oates lowered his head and kicked into a full sprint, now going at nearly double the speed. "The finish line is in sight, Badge! Let's ride!"

Witness Testimony - The Home Stretch

You got nothin', boy!

All the things you're sayin' I did hinge on me stealing the evidence!

But you can't prove I did that!

Where I was at the start don't even matter! I still did exactly what I said!

I just got confused in the dark!

Eric took a deep breath, calming himself. (He's feinting. Trying to get me to engage in arguments so vague that they'll end up circular.)

Loggins banged her gavel for what she clearly hoped to be one of the last times. "The defense will now cross-examine-"

On the contrary!

Loggins jumped at the sudden exclamation, dropping her gavel and accidentally catching it in her buck teeth. "Mr. Badge? Are you… declining your right to a cross-examination?"

"It is a right, Your Honor, not a requirement," Eric said. "That testimony is annoyingly vague. Therefore, I would like to forego it and question the witness more directly. There are no rules against that."

Oinkbaum was visibly sweating. "Y-Your Honor! That can't be right!"

Loggins hesitated, but shrugged. "Mr. Badge is correct. There really aren't any rules saying that his questions need to be related to this particular set of testimony. However!" She pointed her gavel at Eric. "Keep your questions on-track, Mr. Badge. While I acknowledge that Detective Oates is very suspicious, he's right that there's no concrete proof he committed these crimes. I've been patient with you, but if this doesn't deliver something conclusive, I will be allowing him to leave."

Eric nodded slowly. (Last round. I need to drop him.) "Understood, Your Honor."

Naturally, Oates seemed more than up to the challenge. "You think you've got it all figured out, eh? Then show me what you've got, boy! Let's finish this race!"

"I'll finish this alright, but I don't need to keep playing by your rules, Detective. For I have a sport of my own."

Eric closed his eyes tightly in concentration.

When he opened them again, he was envisioning a very different sort of arena. One that was square and surrounded by ropes. His only focus was on Oates right now, in his mind a fierce combatant on the other side of the ring. Everything else faded into the flashes and white noise of the crowd. But Eric knew he could win, even against an opponent with horseshoes in his gloves.

Badgering the Witness - Vs. Detective Oates

Let's begin!

Eric raised his metaphorical gloves. "What were you doing when the crime started? You must have been near Detective Wellington, in a position to use the jumper cables."

Oates raised his own gloves in defense. "And what position would that be?"

"Jumper cables need to be connected to a battery to be used for electrocution. Ergo, you must have been working on your car!"

Jab!

"And Wellington was helping you!"

Jab!

Oates reeled from the blows, but tried to return one of his own. "Why would she do that? If she thought I was the evidence thief, she'd have arrested me right then, not helped me get away!"

"I don't believe she was aware you were the thief at first. Based on the argument Samson heard, she only discovered it on you then, putting her in range of the jumper cables!"

Block! Counter!

Eric continued his assault. "You bore no hatred for Wellington. It must have been a moment of panicked opportunity. If she talked, your career could very well be over. But now she was dead and you had to cover it up somehow. So you put her body on Millie's car!"

Jab!

"Then stashed the jumper cables inside!"

Jab!

"And pushed it down the ramp to the junction box!"

Jab!

Oates fell back against the ropes as Eric pressed further. "After you arrested Millie, Samson came to check on the noise. You had him watch her, with the excuse that you were going to alert the rest of the ZPD. But in reality, you went to the guard station and erased the B1 security footage. It's the only reason Skinner wouldn't have seen you."

"Why wouldn't I just erase all of it then?!" A wobbly Oates made a lunge for him.

"Because you thought the footage from B2 would only incriminate Millie further. You didn't have the time to examine it too closely, or else you might have noticed that it gave your scheme away. Once again, your speed has worked against you!"

Block! Counter!

"With your dark deeds complete, you slipped past Skinner and alerted the precinct as promised with no one the wiser. And that's how it all went down!" With the stallion weakened, Eric threw his finishing blow.

Block!

Oates' glove caught his own. "You've… still got nothing conclusive, boy. Try to wear me down all you like, but that won't change!"

"Feeling tired, are we?"

"Heck yeah, I'm tired! It's been a long morning and I haven't gotten to go home or stop working since this whole thing started! So if that's all you've got, I'll be taking my leave now!"

Eric's eyes widened, before narrowing into a glare. Suddenly, it hit him. But not as hard as it was going to hit Oates.

Break!

"So you've never been left alone!"

Jab!

"Never had any chance to stow away the ice pick!"

Jab!

"And if that's the case…"

Jab!

"THEN YOU'RE STILL HIDING IT ON YOU RIGHT NOW!"

Knockout!

"Gwaaaaaaaaaaah!" Oates staggered back, falling to the floor of the ring as the lights flashed ever brighter.

Stay down!

When the bell rang and the flash subsided, he was back in the real world.

The gallery stared in awe at what had looked like nothing more than a particularly heated debate from their perspective. But Eric could actually feel his adrenaline pumping from that, and he had no doubt that Oates felt it too. The horse was slumped over the stand, panting. "What… the hay was that all about?"

Even Delilah was staring at him. "Holy crap. That was the most intense verbal sparring I've ever seen."

"You have no idea."

Judge Loggins stared blankly, having to give herself a small smack with her gavel to snap out of it. "Apologies, Mr. Badge, but I'm not quite sure I followed all that. It did sound like you had hit on a point of some kind."

"Just one, Your Honor." He cleared his throat, then pointed aggressively at the stallion on stand. "I hereby demand that Detective Oates be searched!"

"Grrrrk!" Oates had looped his lanyard back around his own neck and now yanked it hard, choking himself.

"Searched?" Loggins asked. "For what exactly?"

"Why, the stolen ice pick, of course," Eric said smugly. "It's no wonder that the police couldn't find it. He's still carrying it on his person at this very moment!"

Whoa there!

Oates was in a clear panic now, bucking uncontrollably while literally trying to rein himself in with the lanyard. "T-That won't be necessary! I… I couldn't possibly be h-hiding such a thing!"

"Not such a dark horse anymore, is he?" Delilah asked.

"More of a pale horse, I'd say," Eric agreed, turning his attention back to him.

"Well, Detective? I've placed my bets." He pulled his arm back and threw a spinning punch, the momentum carrying him around to point with his other arm. "Now let's see who crosses that finish line!"

Oates kept pulling on his own neck until, eventually, the lanyard snapped, sending his badge flying off into the crowd. "I… will not consent! I won't! I refuse! I… I… I…"

And suddenly, he reared back, his front hooves waving wildly as he shouted to the sky. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII SAAAAAAAAAAAY NEEEEEEEEEEEEEIGH!"

His hooves came down hard on top of the stand as he glared at Eric. Even after all that, he wasn't giving in yet.

But the stand did. The sharp cracking of wood was the only warning Oates got before the whole thing collapsed out from under him, sending him to the floor with a pitiful whinny.

Loggins sighed. "I suppose we'll add 'Destruction of Property' to your list of charges. I see you won't be escaping any of them now."

As Oates lay there in a heap atop the ruins of the witness stand, it was a plastic-sealed ice pick that now poked out from between his lips.

Eric sighed in relief. "At long last. It's finally ove-"

Objection!

Oinkbaum had a grip on her pearls so tight that she looked to almost be choking herself as well. Sweat was coming off of her like sheets of rain. "Th-That proves nothing! H-He must... Maybe he retrieved it somewhere?"

"Oh, come on!" Eric protested. "You can't possibly still be-!"

"Enough!"

Detective Oates slowly stood back up, but not out of defiance. He was slumped over in exhaustion, utterly defeated and now just staring down at that little ice pick resting in his hoof. "We don't need to continue this farce any longer. Just look around you."

The gallery was quiet once again, but it was easy to tell that the balance had shifted completely. It was nothing but silent glares all around, and all directed at the stallion. "Even if I did get off on some technicality, it hardly matters now, does it? My fellows in the ZPD are loyal to a fault, but loyalty is like a lame horse. It can only go so far before it just... gives out." He sighed. "And me? I'm the lamest horse of all. Everyone in this room knows I'm guilty, so... I confess. I did it. I killed Welly..."

"Damn it all, why now?" Oates growled to himself, banging a hoof against the hood of his car in frustration. The brown Mustang didn't buckle under his threats and continued to be unresponsive.

"What's going on over there?"

He froze up for a moment, but relaxed as he saw Detective Wellington approaching. "My engine's on the fritz again. It's been givin' me all kinds of trouble lately."

She gave a playful smirk. "A troublemaker, huh? Not on my watch!"

Thankfully, being partners meant that her car was parked right next to his. Popping the hoods, Oates fished out his personal set of jumper cables and attached them to Wellington's car battery to charge his own. "Thanks for the assist. I can always count on you, Welly."

But Welly didn't return the sentiment. In fact, she wasn't even paying attention to the car anymore. She was actually eyeing a certain incriminating piece of evidence sticking just enough out of his pocket to be noticeable. "Hey, what's that you've got there? Did you

steal that?!"

Oates cursed himself for not hiding the thing better, but he didn't expect to pass anyone on the way out aside from that half-blind security guard. "Keep it down!" he whispered harshly. "I did what I had to do, alright? You know I can't just let this slide. I'm just gonna do some personal examination and then I'll return it."

She wasn't convinced. Wellington always had been the headstrong one. And she wasn't lowering her voice. "That ice pick is valuable police property! I don't care what your reasons are, I'm not letting you take it!"

Then again, maybe HE was the headstrong one. After all their years working together and all it took was the right blend of stress, panic, and desperation to push him over the edge.

He could see Bea's eyes widen as he reached for the jumper cables, sensing his intentions before even he realized them. She tried to back away. "H-Hey! Wait! N-No!"

She moved back as if to run, which only forced his hooves to act. His car finally kicked on again just as he lunged for her.

VROOOOM!

ZAP!

"…And before I knew it, she was gone," Oates recapped, shaking his head. "After that, I knew I had to cover it up. Else Welly would've died for nothin'. At least, that's how I saw it."

"So that's when you decided to frame Millie," Eric concluded.

"To be honest, I didn't even know she was in the car at first. I didn't spot her at the time, so I just thought someone left their car on. I didn't question why. When my Nana brings me gifts, I don't look her in the mouth."

"I doubt your Nana would approve of your actions."

"No… I don't think so either. See, it don't matter if the car was empty or not. It would've gotten traced to the defendant regardless. Either way, I knew I was framin' an innocent mammal for the worst of crimes. There's no excuse for that." He hadn't looked up once since he started speaking, avoiding the judging gazes all around him.

Eric almost started to feel sorry for him, but all the trauma he had caused Millie wasn't easy to forgive. "For what it's worth, I appreciate you coming clean."

The horse just gave a small nod in response, still not making eye contact. "Not that I had much left to tell. You make a damn fine detective yourself, Badge. There is one thing you got wrong, however. I didn't steal this ice pick just for personal glory."

That got Eric to raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Oates nodded again. "The Ice Pick Killer has been runnin' roughshod around Zootopia for a real long time. We ain't never come close to catchin' him 'til recently. I didn't even know much about 'im... til he hit me close to home. Took my pa from me."

"The... Ice Pick Killer?" Eric asked. "And who exactly is that?" (Because I think it's about time we learned.)

The rest of the courtroom already seemed to know. The constant dread that had been building in this trial ever since that ice pick first came up was now boiling over. The gallery was muttering hushed obscenities amongst each other while Loggins raised her gavel, but couldn't quite bring it down.

"Not a big surprise that you wouldn't know," Oates acknowledged. "In case the name weren't hint enough, he was a feared and deadly serial killer whose weapon of choice was this very ice pick. With this, he killed my dear pa Bentley and several others a couple years back. And a couple years back from that, and a couple years back from that. He was a bit unconventional, that one. He'd go on a spree every now and then before takin' a break. Between the sporadic nature of the murders and the fact that he was a constant embarrassment to the ZPD, let's just say the Ice Pick Killings, or 'IC-9' as it's so cutely called, was a bit of a hush-hush matter."

(So HE'S the one with a personal connection to IC-9. Wellington was just worried for him, and for good reason.) "You're being pretty open with the details yourself."

"Well, I can't exactly count myself among the ranks of the ZPD anymore, can I? Why do ya think I went through all this trouble? I just couldn't let 'im get away after what he did."

Eric tried to recall everything he'd gleaned about this case already. "But wait a second. By the sound of things, he's already been caught. Isn't that why the ZPD even has this evidence?"

"Caught, yes, but perhaps not for long," Oates explained. "Your buddies at Tooth & Claw are tryin' to get him out. That's why they wanted that evidence too."

"They are not our buddies!" Delilah shot back. "In fact, I'm pretty sure we hate them now. They were jerks to Millie."

"A-And I didn't know about any of this either," Millie insisted, still hiding in her sweater even now.

"I believe you," Oates said. "And if there's anythin' good that came out of all this, it's that you ain't doin' their dirty work no more. If you still value my advice, steer clear of Tooth & Claw. They'll only bring ya trouble."

Eric was silent, not really sure how to respond to that.

"But for now, it seems my time has come." Oates dropped the ice pick back atop the remains and gave a deep bow. "Off into the sunset I ride. Until the wind again whispers my name…"

They all watched as Detective Oates was escorted out of the courtroom. Eric blinked a few times as he saw a tumbleweed roll by.

Loggins reluctantly banged her gavel. "I think that's enough of that. Ms. Muskerson shouldn't wait in suspense for her verdict anymore. The court hereby declares the defendant..."

NOT GUILTY

The gallery erupted into cheers, confetti raining down from unknown sources to celebrate the defendant's freedom. Millie smiled, hopping up and down in glee, while the anteater bailiff sighed and readied his broom.

"That is all," Loggins concluded. "Court is now adj-"

Objection!

(...She can't be serious.)

She was serious. "H-Hey!" Oinkbaum yelled, her entire body quivering in an unflattering combo of rage and desperation. "We're not done here yet!"

"Yes we are," Loggins said bluntly. "I gave my verdict. Literally the only thing left is for me to bang my gavel and let everyone go home."

"No one goes home until I have satisfaction!" She was yanking on her pearl necklace so hard that she was starting to turn blue. "I won't accept this! I can't lose to some rude… entitled… lazy… moderately overweight piece of sh-AAAH!"

Her necklace burst apart, pearls flying away in slow-motion. Her eyes widened in shock as two of them soared towards her face.

And got stuck inside her bulbous nostrils. Frowning in distaste, she gave a snort, causing the pearls to fly back out, ricochet off her desk and hit her square in the eyes. Oinkbaum gave one last squeal of defeat as her shades shattered and she fell flat on her ass.

"Finally," Loggins said, fetching a massive book out from under her chair and tossing it over to, and onto, Prosecutor Oinkbaum. "That's a guide to proper courtroom procedures. Read it over thoroughly before showing your face here again."

The anteater bailiff raised a paw. "Actually, Your Honor, I believe that was your guide to the tastiest tree trimmings of Tundratown."

She looked again. "Huh. So it was. Oh well, still something to chew on. But as I was saying, court is adjourned!"

SLAM

---

12:52 PM

Zootopian Central Courthouse - Defendant Lobby No. 3

Back in the lobby, Eric let out a long sigh of relief. "That was the most insane experience of my li-"

He was cut off as he was once again tackled by Millie, peppering his cheek with kisses. "You did it, Stuffy! I can't believe you did it!"

"I can!" Delilah said, smirking as she playfully high-foured Eric. "Rick, that was the craziest thing I've seen you do. It was like those games we played when we were kits!"

"The lawyer games or the boxing games?" he asked, weathering the assault.

"Boxing?"

"Nevermind. But yes, that was quite the harrowing trial." Millie finally finished up and climbed down, but continued nuzzling his side. "I'm just glad it's all over."

"Sucks about your internship, Millie," Delilah said. "But I'm sure you'll find something better. I mean, based on what Oates said, you can't possibly do much worse."

Eric looked down at Millie snuggling his side, saw her look downcast, and hesitated. "Well... You could intern for us."

She looked up at him in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"That's a good idea!" Delilah said eagerly. "We could use a secretary, and I need to watch you flirt with Rick more. It's too dang cute."

"Hmmm. Both good arguments," Millie mused. "And it's really the least I could do after all this."

"I didn't do all that much, really," Eric insisted, rubbing the back of his head. His next words came out as a barely-audible mutter, spoken mostly to himself. "I was just… you know… returning the favor…"

Finally, Millie gave a grin. "Okay, I'll do it! From now on, we're the Badge & O'Possum & Muskerson Law Offices!"

"You're not a lawyer yourself yet," Eric reminded. "And that name is a bit cumbersome."

"Oh, alright. I'll save combining our names for later," she said, giving Eric a wink.

"Yep," Delilah decided. "Already worth it."

"Excuse me," a new voice said.

They turned to see a bunny cop now smiling at them. But not just any bunny cop. Just the only one of any renown. "Officer Judy Hopps?" Eric knelt down a little to shake her paw. "It's an honor to meet you in person. I'm a big fan."

"And after today, I believe I can say the same about you," Judy replied, returning the shake. "Thank you for uncovering the truth about all this. I'm sorry. I admit, my fellow officers and I got a little heated in there when you first accused Detective Oates."

"Think nothing of it!" Eric assured. "It's understandable. He was a good liar."

"I guess you're right. Some of the others wanted to thank you too, but..."

Bethany shrieked in the background, pursued by a loudly barking Samson.

Judy chuckled wryly, then grew serious. "Listen. Oates was a piece of work, but what he said about the Ice Pick Killer… You need to keep that under wraps, alright?"

"Why? Did you know about it?" Delilah challenged.

"Me? I know about as much as you now. It's just… He's already been caught. I don't want to cause a panic with news of some deadly serial killer who used to be at large. Believe me, I've started enough riots in my career to want to avoid them. And trust in the police is… in a precarious spot at the moment."

"I suppose you have a point," Eric admitted. "Besides, this was a closed trial. There's a general understanding that we should keep quiet about it regardless."

"But Riiiick, this was your first big win on a homicide case!" Delilah protested.

"And my last! We're civil lawyers, remember? We don't need this on our record."

Judy looked between them for a moment, but seemed satisfied enough. "Thanks. We've got enough to worry about. Losing one good detective was bad enough, and now we lost two. I'm not even sure who's eligible to replace them, if anyone."

"Hopps!" a booming voice called.

Now they all had to look up at the imposing figure of Precinct 1's Chief Bogo standing over them. While none of them were particularly relaxed in his presence, Judy was the calmest, and she was the only one he was actually looking at. "Yes, sir?"

"Come along," he ordered. "There's something important I need to talk to you about." Finally, he gave Eric the briefest of nods. "Good work out there."

"T-Thanks."

Bogo took his leave, Judy following behind after giving them one last wave. Only then did Eric let out the latest breath he was holding. "I can't take all this stress. Millie, I am happy beyond measure that I could help you out, but seriously, I am never taking on a murder trial ever again."

Delilah wagged a finger. "Never say never."

"Never!"

"Oh, fine. Then how bout we hit up that seafood place on Skylight Street?" she suggested.

Eric's stomach growled. "Larry's? Sounds good to me. I'm starving."

"Time for crab!" Millie cheered.

And so, with thoughts of brunch clouding our minds and rumbling our bellies, my first and only murder trial came to a close. With this chapter behind us, I'll be happy to get back to the comparatively boring world of contracts and liabilities. But first, a humble celebration with my dearest of friends.

His dearest of friends were currently over by the front doors, wondering why Eric was still just standing there.

Millie leaned over to Delilah and whispered. "Is he doing that inner monologue thing again?"

"Starting to regret teaching him that."

---

1:16 PM

Tundratown

Even amongst all the snow billowing around the streets of the sub-zero district, the stark white limousine managed to stick out. It drove slowly, mainly due to icy conditions, but with purpose. A purpose known only to its occupants.

One of those occupants was a female skunk, dressed in a white suit over a red skirt. Sitting one leg crossed over the other, she stared down at her phone, a single violet eye narrowing at the sight of a new notification. The other eye was obscured by a bang of white headfur, a familiar golden badge clipped onto it. "Hmm. Interesting."

"What is it, Lilac?" asked a suited porcupine on the seat across from her, green eyes glancing over. He shared a very similar fashion sense, dressed almost entirely in white except for a red tie and the attorney's badge affixed to it. His quills were noticeably slicked down, so much so that they fit snugly down the back of his suit, not even poking any holes into the nice upholstery he was seated on.

"It's that Muskerson girl," the skunk answered, a painted claw idly flicking across her screen. "I've just received a report from our line into the courthouse. Her trail has ended."

"That took longer than expected," the porcupine noted, before going back to filing his own claws with a shed quill. "So what sort of sentence did they give her?"

"None. She was acquitted."

"What?" Now his attention was held. "That's not possible."

"Sources say otherwise. Cleared of all charges. It seems her defense was headed by the 'Badge & O'Possum Law Offices'."

"Never heard of them."

"And for good reason apparently. This was their first murder trial." Lilac chuckled. "My, how remarkable."

"Remarkable? Do you have any idea what this means? How is it going to look that these novices just won a case we said was unwinnable?"

"Relax, Pierson," she chided. "You're not seeing the bigger picture here. Having more reliable defense attorneys out in the world can only assist in the long-term goals of Tooth & Claw."

Pierson grumbled, but gave no further complaint.

"As for short-term goals, we've got those covered as well." Lilac smiled, looking back down at her white smartphone as she sifted through images of police reports and surgical tools. "Isn't that right, 'Mr. Icepick'?"

They both looked to the back of the limousine, where the hulking figure of a third mammal was seated.

He slowly lifted his head, cold blue eyes staring silently back.

End

---

Court Record:

Attorney's Badge

Symbol of my profession, icon of my status, brand of integrity, and marvel of justice. The one back in Great Bitein is nicer though.

Crime Scene Photo

Shows the victim, Detective Wellington, sprawled facedown across the hood of Millie's car. The smashed junction box is visible on the wall behind her, wires hanging down. I'll resist the urge to call her death 'shocking' out of taste.

Wellington's Autopsy Report

Cause of death was electrocution. Severe electrical burns on the back and face, but the latter were pre-mortem. Also suffered bruising in the back and torso, but injury was lessened due to not being a direct impact. Would be a lucky break if she hadn't died anyway. Estimated time of death is between 4 and 4:30 AM.

Parking Garage Diagram

Split between two levels. B1 houses the guard station in the upper-right corner, with nearby stairs leading up to the main building. The lower-left corner leads to the exit. In the center of the floor is a ramp leading down to the lower level, and someone seems to have added a little 'V' marker at the top of it. Cute. B2 shows the bottom of the same ramp, directly across from the junction box at the crime scene.

Car Photos

What's left of Millie's oversized automobile. The windshield and front windows are shattered, covering both of the front seats in glass. The only thing in the back seats are jumper cables and a bunch of unread car manuals. The vehicle itself isn't as damaged as one would expect though, for reasons I'd rather not recall.

Junction Box

The once-presumed murder weapon. There's a poetic irony in something so small being the true danger, and an even greater irony that the real culprit was even smaller. Was struck by both car and victim at roughly 4:12 AM, causing a brief outage.

Millie's Medical Report

Wait, this is just a note that says "I'm A-OK!" with a big smiley face. Did she lose the actual report?

Stolen Evidence

I can't believe they think Millie would steal some bloody ice pick. Using the word 'bloody' literally in this context. Well, I'll use it the other way too because I have some really strong opinions about this.

Evidence Room Log

A list of everyone who came to the evidence room this morning. I don't envy anyone who gets up this early for anything, but in this case I'll be thankful.

Guest - 3:32 AM

B. Wellington - 3:46 AM

B. Oates - 3:55 AM

Security Tape

Sadly our most reliable account of what happened thus far. Technology doesn't lie, even if it IS outdated. We only have the footage from B2 though, as the B1 footage seems to have disappeared on us.

Jumper Cables

The REAL murder weapon. Good for both starting cars and stopping hearts. This range of utility is not reassuring.

Profiles:

Eric Badge

Age: 24

Species: Badger

I can't believe I actually pulled it off. Even if it's not what I went to school for, there is some level of comfort in knowing that my badge can help protect those dear to me. Now I just need to burn these documents before Delilah sees how sappy I got.

Delilah O'Possum

Age: 24

Species: Opossum

My legal co-counsel and most trusted partner. She's far from a conventional lawyer, or the most hygienic, but underestimate her at your own peril.

Millie Muskerson

Age: 22

Species: Polecat

Old friend, current defendant. She has a penchant for getting into trouble but she's really outdone herself this time. Also likes to flirt with me, and I'm not one of those clueless anime protagonists too dim to notice it.

Judge Loggins

Age: 45

Species: Beaver

The judge presiding over this case, and for some reason most of the cases we end up taking, no matter what kind. I guess we're not the only ones branching out. Ugh, did I just make a wood pun?

Marge Oinkbaum

Age: 40

Species: Pig

The prosecutor, regrettably. I wasn't sure mammals like this really existed until today. I can't shake the feeling that she's just waiting to call my manager on me, and I don't even have one!

Bea F. Wellington

Age: 31

Species: Cow

The victim in this case, of homicide and arguably fashion. That nose ring manages to be both rebellious AND stereotypical.

Bailey Oates

Age: 46

Species: Horse

No one can talk like this horse, of course, for this horse is the famous Mr. Fed. Seriously, I have no earthly clue what this guy is trying to say half the time.

Bethany Woohlberg

Age: 30
Species: Sheep

This slightly-neurotic ewe is in charge of the evidence room. She seems like a nice enough girl, so I feel a little bad for her getting dragged into all this, even though it's also sort of her fault it happened in the first place.

Samson Shepard

Age: 79

Species: Shepherd Dog?

The guard of the parking garage. Now, I don't like to discriminate against anyone's age, but I think there is perhaps a point when retirement should be less of a suggestion and more of a "Fetch, boy!"

Megan Skinner

Age: 28

Species: Sphynx Cat

The incredibly morbid coroner, but I suppose I can't blame her. In a job like that, you need to adjust any way you can. I just hope to never end up on the wrong end of her scalpel.