Chapter Three:

Meet Marc Anthony

Lightning flashed back at Dorlock Homes's flat as the portrait of Owen DeCassle still gave a smug grin. Dorlock paced around in his red bathrobe, holding an unlit pipe and speaking, "This case is very fascinating with its' many elements, twist and turns…" He turned to Clyde and said, "Now, you're certain you told me everything? The slightest detail may be important!"

"It's just as I said," Clyde explained, "and then my father was gone!"

"What do you m-m-m-make of it?" Dr. Watkins stuttered.

"Hmm, DeCassle must be up to something," Dorlock suspected. "A crime of sinister nature, no doubt. The question is, what would he want with a toymaker?"

As he paced past a small circular window, Clyde followed, but then saw the threatening figure of Wrenchfield appear through the window with a menacing smile. Lightning flashed as Clyde screamed. Dorlock heard the scream and turned just to see Wrenchfield panic and start to take off. "Quickly, Watkins," Dorlock instructed as he ran to the front door and opened it, "not a moment to lose!"

"I'm right b-b-b-b-behind you, Dorlock," Watkins said as he followed Dorlock outside. But they were too late, as Wrenchfield was nowhere in sight. "N-n-no sign of the b-b-b-blackguard anywhere. Just great!"

"Not quite, Watkins," Dorlock said as he kneeled down at the muddy footprints Wrenchfield left behind on the damp sidewalk. "He's left some unusual footprints. They obviously belong to the same fiend who kidnapped the bunny's father – DeCassle's peg-legged lackey Wrenchfield!"

As Dorlock studied the footprints some more, Watkins found a small black cap, damp from the rainwater. He picked it up and asked, "Uh, D-D-D-D-Dorlock? I found something."

"AHA!" Dorlock exclaimed as he snatched up the cap. "Excellent work, old pig!" He chuckled as he ran back to the flat.

Inside, Tina was comforting Clyde, having heard what went on, as Dorlock and Watkins ran back into the flat. "Now, there's nothing to be afraid of, kid…"

"The scoundrel's van-va-va-vani-v-va-van, er, gone for now," Watkins added.

With a chuckle, Dorlock tossed off his robe as he said, "But not for long, Mr. Bunhummer!"

"Bunnersham!" Clyde insisted.

"Whatever," Dorlock dismissed it, as he slipped into a green suit for his detective work. "Now, we simply follow the trail of our peg-legged friend until he leads us to the boy's father."

Clyde's face lit up as he said, "Then you'll get my daddy back?" He rushed over and hugged Dorlock tight.

"Yes!" Dorlock strained as he freed himself from Clyde's grasp. "And quite soon… if I'm not mistaken. Now hurry along, Watkins. We must be off to Marc Anthony's!" As the duck spoke, he pulled how a greenish-yellow inverness cape and coat and slid it on.

"M-m-m-Marc Anthony?" Watkins stuttered in confusion.

"Oh, you must meet him," Dorlock insisted as he put on a green deerstalker cap, completing the detective look. "He's just the chap for this!"

"Ah-ba-bee-ba-ya-you want ME to come?" Watkins asked in surprise.

"Ha! Hoff-hoff," Dorlock breathed onto his magnifying glass and wiped it off with his coat. "I should think an army pig like you would LEAP at the chance for action-adventure!"

"Well," Watkins, "I am rather c-c-curi-c-cu-cur-cu-c-curi, er, intrigued."

"Wait for me!" Clyde called out as he put on his own hat and scarf. "I'm coming, too!" But as he ran past Dorlock's easy chair, he accidentally bumped Dorlock's violin sitting on the chair and cause it to start to fall over.

Fortunately, Dorlock noticed this and he leaped into action to catch his precious instrument in time. "WHAT?" he said. "Heck, no! This is no business for children." He stood up and set his violin back on the chair.

"Are we going to take a cab?" Clyde asked as he took some crumpets and put them into his pockets.

Dorlock sighed as he tried to calmly tell Clyde, "Kid, I don't think you understand. It will be very dangerous." But as he said that, he sat on his chair and ended up crushing his violin! Among realizing what he just did, Dorlock let out a shocked gasp, grunted bitterly, and pulled out the smashed instrument. "WHY YOU! Look at my…" He snarled a bit and took a deep breath, trying to control his rage. He directly eyed Clyde and said, "Little boy, you are most definitely not accompanying us. And that! Is! FINAL!"

But Clyde came with them anyways. In the flat next door, Dorlock opened his secret passage in the wall and peeked into the hallway, to which Clyde peeked out as well.

"And not a word out of you," Dorlock warned the little rabbit. "Is that clear?"

They saw no one else was in the flat right now, and it was safe to look around.

"Marc Anthony?" Dorlock called out. "Marc?"

Clyde tugged on Watkins's coat and whispered, "Who is Marc Anthony?"

"Well, little boy," Watkins, "Marc Anth-th-tho-th-th-thon-th… uh, er…" He realized how he was just as clueless as Clyde about this, and so he asked Dorlock, "I say, D-D-D-Dorlock, who is this Marc?"

They heard thundering footsteps as a very large bulldog ran up to them, very happy to see Dorlock.

"Ahh, here he is now!" Dorlock exclaimed. He pushed Watkins forward and introduced, "Watkins… Marc Anthony."

Watkins nervously tipped his hat and stammered, "Ch-ch-cha-ch-ch-ch-charmed." But Marc wasn't thrilled with the introduction and began growling at the pig.

Dorlock moved forward, pushing Marc Anthony back and saying, "Now, Marc Anthony, stop that! Marc! Cease and desist!" Then he turned to Watkins trembling behind a chair and explained, "Frightfully sorry, pig. Marc Anthony has the best sense of smell of any dog I've trained, but… he can be deucedly frisky." He chuckled a bit as Marc Anthony sniffed around the room and then came up to Clyde.

"Hello, Marc Anthony," Clyde said as he giggled and patted the large dog sniffing him. "Silly puppy! Would you like a crumpet?"

Marc Anthony nodded excitedly, and quickly lapped up the crumpet Clyde pulled out of his pocket and ate it in one gulp.

"OK, Marc Anthony," Dorlock said as he was reaching into his pocket. "Now I want you to…" He turned but was surprised to see Marc not listening, as he was enjoying a belly rub from Clyde. Dorlock whistled and Marc rolled back onto his feet, facing the duck. "Good! Now, Marc… I want you to find… THIS fiend!" Dorlock whipped out Wrenchfield's hat, and Marc started to growl and bark. "Yes, you know this time!" Dorlock said, barking a little to drill Marc into being motivated to find the villain. "A villain! A scoundrel! Grarrf! Grarrf! Low brow. Close-set eyes. Hunched-over back!" Marc continued growling. "Yes, that's the spirit! Got the scent?" Dorlock asked, and Marc nodded happily. "Good boy!" Dorlock cheered as he grabbed his leash and turned to face Watkins and Clyde. "Mr. Bunchester!" Dorlock began.

"BUNNERSHAM!" Clyde and Watkins both corrected in unison.

"Whatever," Dorlock muttered, and then continued, "your father is as good as found! Marc Anthony…" The dog struck a "pointer" pose. "SIC 'EM!" Dorlock called out, and Marc ran right over him, the dazed duck detective managing to hold onto the leash and quickly regain his wind. "Yoicks! Tally-hoooo! Ha-haaaa!" Dorlock called out like a British hunter as Clyde and Watkins ran after them out of the room.

…

A while later, on the dark wet streets of London, Marc Anthony was sniffing around. The storm had stopped, but it was still dark and overcast, and there were puddles of rainwater on the cobbled streets. After a bit of sniffing, Marc suddenly gave a sudden loud howl and began running and barking, while Dorlock Homes and Clyde Bunnersham held on tight to the huge bulldog's collar.

"The thrill of the hunt, eh, Watkins?" Dorlock called back.

Watkins was desperately clinging to Marc Anthony's rear, trying to stay with his allies. "Q-q-q-quite!" he nervously stammered.

Dorlock let out a pleased laugh and said, "Our peg-legged target can't be off now!" as Marc let out another howl, taking the detective, his partner and their kid client towards where Wrenchfield went…