Duke Weaselton sat quietly on the bunk of the holding cell. At present he was its only occupant. Judging from the amount of light streaming in through the window he figured he'd been there for about eight hours. No phone calls, no interrogation, not even breakfast. He was beginning to think that they had completely forgotten about him, which was perfectly fine. It was something his lawyer could run with and use against the police when he was arraigned. He flopped backward on the thin mattress and closed his eyes. He was already tired from last night and a short nap couldn't hurt anything. It might even help him forget that he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. Less than a minute after he'd closed his eyes the cell door clanked open.

"Okay Wesselton... Time to wake up and answer some questions." Duke opened his eyes and found himself looking up into the face of a large rhino.

"About time, flatfoot. Don't you guys ever feed prisoners around here? And by the way, the name is Weaselton, not Wesselton. Duke Weaselton."

The police mammal chuckled. "You're not a prisoner, not yet anyway, unless you have something you'd like to confess to." He held out a small pair of paw cuffs. "You know the drill."

The weasel silently held out his arms while the ZPD officer cuffed his hands together in front of him then slipped a thin, leather leash through the cuffs to compensate for the size difference between them.

"Where are we going?" Duke asked.

"Interrogation room six."

The weasel made an immediate about face and headed in the opposite direction. "Room six is down this way, flatfoot." The rhino watched him for a moment, then followed silently, chagrinned that his 'guest' knew the jail layout better than he did.

Arriving at the interrogation room, Duke was quickly seated at a large wooden table with a booster seat provided for his convenience. The officer went outside for a moment, then returned, dropping a small paper plate with two plain donuts on it on the table. They were supplemented with a cup of hot, black coffee.

"What's this?" the weasel asked.

"Breakfast."

"What? No sprinkles?"

"Around here, you have to earn your sprinkles." He left, closing the door firmly behind him. Duke looked around the room, noticing the clock which read 10:01. To one side he spotted the obligatory two-way mirror as well as an old style water cooler. By 10:03 both donuts and about a third of the coffee were gone.

The door opened again and as the weasel watched a pair of long grey ears walked into the room; the ears being all he could see over the top of the table. They were accompanied by the head of a fox whom Weaselton immediately recognized. Two chairs were pulled over to the table along with a pair of booster seats and within moments Duke found himself confronting the last two mammals he would have wanted to talk to on the whole planet. He instinctively felt in his shirt pocket for his box of tooth picks before remembering that all his personal stuff had been confiscated when he was booked.

Smiling, the fox reached into his own pocked and tossed a box of peppermint flavored tooth picks on the table for him. Weaselton immediately reached into the box and popped one of the toothpicks into his mouth. However, when he tried to pocket the box, the bunny shook her head and indicated he leave it on the table between them.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't George and Gracie come to welcome me to their humble abode," Duke greeted sarcastically. "Word on the street was you got yourself shot, Wilde. How's that working out for you?"

"I got better," he replied, deadpan. "Thanks for asking."

"We've got some questions for you about the meeting you set up last night," said Judy. "But first we're going to read you your rights."

"Yeah, I knew it... Here comes the boring part"

"You might want to listen, Duke," Nick pointed out. "It's for your own good."

"My own good would be having a large, luxury apartment overlooking Gazelle's penthouse in City Center; complete with a 400 power telescope. But, I digress. Go ahead and hit me with the whole Miranda thingy, bunny buns, if that's what floats your boat."

Judy quickly read through Weaselton's rights, then had him sign a form indicating he understood those rights.

Duke dropped the pen on top of the form and pushed it towards the bunny cop. "Lawyer!" he said.

"Did you just say something?" she asked frowning.

"Lawyer!" he repeated.

Nick looked over a Judy. "I think he's saying he wants to exercise his right to speak with an attorney and have one available while we inquire about last night."

"Oh! Is that it?" the rabbit said sweetly. "WELL TOUGH! You aren't getting anything unless you start talking about last night."

"Then I ain't talking, Cutie."

"Don't call me cute," Judy growled threateningly.

"Oh, does the cute little fluffy bunny not like it when I call her cute?"

"It is a little speciest, Duke," Nick admonished him gently. "You might want to dial it down a little."

"Is that so? You think I should listen to a shifty fox like you?"

Nick looked over at his partner. "He's got a bit of a mouth on him, don't you think?"

"If you want to step out for a cup of coffee, maybe I can do something about that mouth," Judy offered.

The fox shook his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary." He sighed and turned his attention back to Weaselton. "I'll be honest with you, buddy. We're just trying to make sure you don't get yourself permanently dead."

Duke huffed, puffing up his chest slightly. "You think those guys from last night can do anything to me? With all the weapons charges they're facing they'll be lucky if they're back on the streets inside of ten years. The courts tend not to like hijackers, you know"

"Doesn't it worry you that you'll be on the inside with them?" Judy asked.

"Says who?" the weasel snickered. "I wasn't packing anything, and I know for a fact that the only thing you've got on them is the illegal weapons. Their whole set up was a scam. If anything, I was the one scammed. Add to that, as a material witness my lawyer will have me out and on the street in less than 24 hours."

Judy angrily jumped on the table and opened her mouth to say something but was brought to an abrupt stop by Nick. "I think he's got us on that one, Carrots." The bunny looked at her partner and realized she couldn't count on him to back up any of her moves. Screeching in frustration, she hopped down off the table and kicked an empty wastebasket across the room.

"We done here, Wilde?" Duke asked.

The fox picked up the box of toothpicks off the table and handed it to the weasel. "I guess we're going to have to cut you loose, buddy. Put you back out on the streets without any kind of protection."

"That's right, copper. You... Wait! What? Protection? What protection?"

"Witness protection, of course."

"And why would I need witness protection?"

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"That gang the arctic wolf was running wasn't a complete scam."

"What do you mean? I was there. The truck was completely empty. The wolf and moose were running a scam against each other. I was just in the middle."

"The truck was empty because they'd unloaded the whiskey and stashed it in the warehouse. You see, they'd already made a connection with a buyer and were going to sell their ill gained goods to him. You provided them an opportunity to make a little extra money and they decided to get greedy."

"And?"

The fox looked over at his partner. "He REALLY doesn't know."

The bunny had suddenly become all smiles. "Imagine that!" she said brightly. "This might turn out to be fun after all."

"Know what? KNOW what? KNOW WHAT, WHAT, WHAT?"

"The truck that was hijacked belonged to Mr. Big," Nick answered.

"As does the trucking company," Judy added.

"And the distillery that made the whiskey," the fox finished.

Duke's face went completely white as the news sank in.

"You use to work the streets, Slick. How would you describe this situation?"

"Well Carrots, I'd have said that poor Wesselton is well and truly F.U.B.A.R.!"

"That's Weaselton... Not Wesselton," Duke muttered weakly.

When the lawyer finally arrived about twenty minutes later, Nick was able to present to him not only a copy of a signed confession, but a preliminary plea agreement that would guarantee the weasel would be given immunity for his testimony; and that he'd be entered into a witness protection program based upon both a change of residency and promise to no longer engage in illegal activities. The integrity of this last, Nick had some doubts about, but that would be entirely up to Duke.

Sitting back in their work cubicle over a couple cups of coffee they reviewed the video tape and wrote out a list of ways they might improve their technique for others to use.

"Hey Slick!"

"Yes Carrots?"

"Next time we run an interrogation, can I be the bad cop?"