July 14, 2017

Judy stared at the needle the doctor had left on the counter when she had asked him for a final sip of water before the surgery. She rubbed the fur on her nose that would soon be removed and shivered when she imagined the scalpels, scissors, rasps, and other instruments cutting and reshaping her delicate snoot.

And yet, she had nothing to fear at all.

"OK, Nick," she whispered into the tiny microphone hidden under her purple T-shirt. "Come in. We've got him."

Dr. Cunningham, a well-groomed, blue-eyed, medium-built red fox in his mid-sixties, stepped back into the room with a small plastic cup of water in his paw. He handed it to his patient.

"Thank you," she said. She sipped slowly, waiting for her partner to arrive.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" the plastic surgeon said.

The door opened, and in stepped Clover, the office's crowned lemur receptionist. "Doctor," she said, "this gentlemammal is with the Zootopia Police Department."

"Officer Wilde, ZPD," Nick said, pointing at his badge as he entered. "Dr. Frank Cunningham—or, more accurately, Frank Cunningham—you are under arrest for practicing without a medical license."

The doctor looked curiously at Nick for a moment and then shook his head. "There must be some mistake. I have been practicing in Zootopia for twenty-five years. I've administered Botox to Gazelle. I did Paulina Swinton's liposuction before she ran for mayor."

"And now you're revealing patients' private medical histories, violating HIPPO rules," Nick said as he took out a pair of appropriately sized pawcuffs. "Maybe you did do those things successfully without a license, but you were very lucky. You could have seriously injured or disfigured someone without proper training." He took Cunningham's paws and started cuffing them behind his back. The fraudster didn't resist. "Actually, you nearly did. My partner doesn't need a nose job; she's perfect just the way she is."

Judy felt the heat of a blush as she got up from the operating table.

"Anyway," Nick continued, "you have the right to remain silent, and you should probably exercise it. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have one present during any questioning. If you cannot afford to hire an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you. But I'm sure you can afford one, right, doc?"

"Nick," Judy said. It wasn't the first time she had had to remind him not to add snark to the Mirpanda warning. And it probably wouldn't be the last.

Upon hearing the officer's first name, Cunningham turned his head as much as he could toward the fellow red fox who had just cuffed him. Again, he looked at him for a moment.

"Problem?" Nick asked.

Cunningham shook his head. "No, no. Never mind."

Nick was used to it. With the cases they had solved and being historic firsts on the ZPD, he and Judy had become famous names in Zootopia. "All right, then. Let's go," he said as he led the arrestee out of the room.

— § —

Nick turned to his partner, who was in the passenger seat of their ZPD cruiser, as they headed back to the precinct. "Do you need help?"

Judy's paws were underneath her shirt, fumbling with something. "Ah! Ah! Ooh! No thank you, Nick. Ah! Come on! Come on! Yes! Ow! I got it!" She pulled her paws out, and in the right one was the microphone that had been taped to her chest. Attached to the tape were several clumps of white fur.

"Ouch, Carrots."

Judy tossed the microphone and the small transmitter connected to it onto the dashboard. "Maybe next time we do a sting operation, I can be the arresting officer, and you can wear the wire."

"Not a chance. I gave up conning others, and I'll never go back."

"Not even for an extra kiss from your girlfriend?"

"Uhh ..." Nick said as a blush came to his face, hidden only by the color of his fur. "What girlfriend might that be?" He checked that the road ahead was clear for a moment and then leaned into Judy's ear. "We're on duty. And more importantly, we're not alone." He gestured his head slightly in the direction of their backseat passenger.

"Right, right," Judy whispered. "Sorry."

"The answer's yes, though. I'll wear the wire next time." He sat back up in his seat before Judy could say anything more and turned his attention back to driving.

— § —

In the booking room of Precinct 1, Frank Cunningham lifted his right paw off the paw- and hoofprint scanner. Gone were the days of black ink and index cards; everything was now digital.

"Thank you," Jeff Tuskarora, a warthog who was the booking room officer, said. "And now your left one."

Just as he had been with his right, Cunningham was slightly hesitant, but he complied with the officer's request.

"Good. Got it. That's all I need from you. Officer Delacouri will escort you back to the holding cell." Jeff looked toward the black leopard a few feet away and waved her over. "All yours, officer."

Delacouri led Cunningham out of the room.

After entering the final pieces of information, Jeff submitted the booking record to the ZPD database. A window popped up with a green bar showing the progress made comparing the new record to existing ZPD records and the federal Animal Print Electronic Identification System.

After seventeen seconds, the system returned a match.

Jeff opened the old record and manually compared identifying points on the old pawprints, which had been collected on an index card in 1988 and later scanned into APEIS, with the prints collected digitally minutes earlier. Except for a scar line almost all the way up the paw pad of the right thumb on the new record, the prints were an exact match. "Hmm." He printed the old record and the new record and then left the booking room to let Nick and Judy know what he had found as they worked on their arrest report.

"Officer Hopps," Jeff said as he walked up to Nick and Judy's workspace, "is your partner around?"

"Officer Wilde went to get us some coffee," Judy replied. "He should only be a few minutes."

"Well, I'll tell you now and then you can share with him." He handed Judy the printout of the older ZPD record. "Got a hit in APEIS for the quack you brought in."

Judy looked at the photograph of the fox on the printout for just a second and then held the paper back out for Jeff. "I think you handed me the wrong record. This isn't the fox we arrested."

"The computer says it's a match, and I verified the points of minutiae myself. I think your phony doctor changed his appearance and has been practicing under an alias for years."

Judy looked at the real name of the arrestee. Her ears drooped.

"Something wrong?"

"No, no," Judy said, part in reply to Jeff's question and part to reassure herself. "There are many Hoppses in Bunnyburrow who aren't—" She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Right," Jeff said, not fully following but not really needing to. He handed Judy the printout of the newer ZPD record and left a moment later.

Once she was alone, Judy set the newer record down and focused on the older one. She could definitely see some resemblance in the color photo from 1988. She looked at his date of birth. Born in 1953 and it's 2017, so he's sixty-four. Subtract thirty-four; he was thirty in 1983. Add five—

Judy's mental math was interrupted by the sound of coffee mugs being placed on the desk. "You all right, Carrots? You seem deep in thought."

"Jeff stopped by. I was just trying to figure something out."

"Something I can help you with?"

"No!" It came out much stronger than she had intended.

Nick threw his paws up. "All right! I won't pry!"

Judy sighed. "Nick, I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure before—" She paused. The guilt of keeping something from Nick—her partner on duty and off—was too great. "Nick, do you know anyone who was born on April 11, 1953?"

Nick's eyes widened. "That's my father's birthday."

"And his name is John, correct?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. Oh my God, what happened to him?"

Judy picked up the older record Jeff had printed. "According to APEIS, the doctor we arrested today had been practicing under an alias. Nick"—she paused for a moment, putting a paw on her partner's arm—"his real name is John Wilde."

Nick took the record from Judy. "No, that doctor looks nothing like—" His green eyes caught the photo on the paper. The brown eyes of his father looked back. "Oh my God!" The paper fell from his paw and fluttered onto the desk. "It really is him. I haven't seen him in twenty-seven years, and then I arrest him." He shut his eyes and brought a paw to his forehead. "I don't know whether to feel guilty or glad."

Judy picked up her coffee mug. "Nick, you told me that your father was a tailor and that your parents divorced when you were young, but that's all you've ever shared. Tell me more. What was he like?"

Nick sat down in his chair and turned to his partner. "He was a good father and a good guy. He was a calm mammal who never lost his temper with anyone. He had a good sense of humor; in fact, he was the first one I ever heard tell the three-humped camel joke. He knew how to fix a lot of things that had nothing at all to do with tailoring, from a leaky roof to a leaky car radiator, and he often let me help him. He bowled sometimes and was good at it; he golfed sometimes but wasn't any good at it. He ate raspberries like I eat blueberries. He enjoyed singing in the shower a little too much. He kissed my mom at least three times a day—they seemed to have a perfect and loving marriage." He paused for a moment. "Then one day, without warning, something changed between them. I came home after school to find my mom crying at the kitchen table. She told me that my dad loved me, but that they were no longer going to be married. The night before was the last time I ever saw him. Until now."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. She didn't tell me when I was seven, and any time I'd ask her when I was older, she'd just shake her head and say, 'It's too painful, Nicky.' Eventually, I stopped asking."

"Do you want to know?"

"I don't know. I mean, I want to know, but I don't know if I want to know. You know?"

Judy nodded. "I know."

Nick stayed silent for a moment. Then he pointed at Judy's coffee mug, which was back on the desk. "Mind if I hustle this?"

"I sipped it."

"Doesn't bother me," Nick said as he picked up Judy's mug and took a swallow. He set it back down for a moment and picked up his radio. "Officer Delacouri, this is Officer Wilde. Could you please bring Frank Cunningham to Interview Room 3? There are a few questions I would like to ask him."