Chapter 17

Hi all,

Chapter 17 here in all it's entirety, nothing new if you've read the snippets of this chapter published separately, but chapter 18 is coming soon! Ta

As her depression grew her placidity diminished. She began to be vexed by trifles, and to fall into a fret of apprehension...

- Georgette Heyer, A Civil Contract.

"'Cause I am keeping an eye," Grizzlyfur the bear looked around the officers in attendance strictly. "On each and every one of you. Nothing's final till the course is out ladies and gentlemammals. Believe you me," he ended on a low growl.

Nick had to actually cover his muzzle with a paw to stop the many retorts he had dancing around his mind from escaping.

How gentle-bearly to give us fair warning, Sir.

Fair is bear, as they say.

If it ain't broke, you'll break it. Sir.

I'm going nuts, the fox thought wryly, gripping the edge of his desk firmly and clamping his jaws shut. Welcome to cuckoo land, Junior Officer Wilde. It's a one-way street from here on in.

He had to keep it together somehow though, for thirty minutes more - twenty nine, it was down to twenty nine, according to the big old-fashioned clock that ticked the time away so slowly and mercilessly above the classroom door (if one can describe the very simply-furnished room reserved for the instruction of the two dozen aspiring officers as a classroom.)

The reason Officer Nicholas P Wilde had to wait for the allotted time and courageously resist every temptation to quip at the humourless instructor has to be explained to ensure our esteemed reader is quite in the clear. You see, in a studied practice to secure the participating officers' high spirits, the training centre's authorities had long since devised a plan that worked admirably well to motivate those going through the gruelling studies and physical activities. Every four weeks, an officer who was quite on top of his or her coursework and had avoided being written up for detention one too many times, was granted an entire afternoon and evening of leave. This in itself was hardly enough time to go back to Zootropolis and see one's near and dear ones, but it was far enough time to head down to the nearby tiny village of Rocky Hillside and have a drink and round of cards at the local pub. This might not sound like much, but to the officers exhausted out of their wits it was a very welcome break.

Two detentions behind his bushy red tail, you will understand why Nick had to keep his mouth firmly closed if he had any hopes of catching a breather. The other two officers from his precinct who were completing the training by his side - McHorn the rhino and Taggart the tiger - were good to go as well if nothing happened in the next precisely twenty seven minutes to disrupt this happy turn of events. Taggart had gotten detention twice as well, but for his part it was because Grizzlyfur had been disgusted by what he described a 'shameful lack of quality' in the essays that mammal had handed in for a former assignment.

Nick twitched his tail irritably and shifted in his seat. How Taggart had made it through pre-screening he would have dearly liked to know, or his name wasn't Wilde. The more work-filled dreary days dragged by, the more Nicholas Piberius was starting to wonder whether Taggart had somehow cheated altogether to get in. He would have immediately jumped to this conclusion if he had not been present at the test himself and had not seen the strict security measures provided.

It had been a rotten day altogether without a doubt, the day they had sat for the pre-screen, the fox concluded gloomily. Taggart getting in and Hopps being eliminated. He chanced a glance at McHorn. The rhino sat stonily, ostentatiously following everything the grizzly bear was saying. McHorn was good to go as far as their afternoon off was concerned; the rhino officer had zero detentions to his name and his coursework was up to scratch. He gave Nick a tiny thumbs up sign from his seat near the back of the room and the fox grinned back at his precinct one buddy. It would be a mellow sort of outing, Nick decided, but McHorn was a regular good one and Taggart was fine, though a braggart and a bore at times. Any change was welcome to the humdrum daily grind of their training though.

Nick felt the corners of his mouth twitch as a mental image of just what Judy would have had to say to this train of thought occurred to him. 'Daily grind? Have you considered, Nick, what a rare opportunity it is to be admissible to train at Rocky Hills, not to mention, in general, how us smaller mammals-' and so on and so forth. The fox had quite given up trying to figure out what had been going on back in Zootropolis though, so far as Judy was concerned. Her text messages ran more or less as usual, if a bit sparse and far apart for his taste, and the only out of the ordinary one followed an evening she'd apparently spent with FruFru and it had read, rather decisively, 'Nick, we have to talk when we meet.' Followed quite closely by another that elaborated somewhat confusingly, 'Maybe. Almost definitely.'

He had laughed a bit at this, though he did feel nonplussed and had replied, Glad to talk to you anytime Carrots - maybe, almost definitely. What in the world she had meant he could not imagine, but then his entire capacity for concentration was being spent on his daily work and he had not had any decent coffee whatsoever in several weeks. He felt some vague apprehension at the realisation that whatever it was she wanted to speak of had to be rather significant for her to underline it in such a way, but he wouldn't be seeing her for quite a few weeks yet after all. There's enough trouble everyday to worry too much over the future, was Nick's philosophy, and today he'd be down at the pub with the guys and he could forget about trouble for once.

Why did they only get one measly afternoon off though, he thought sourly. If it had been at least a full day and a night he could have made a dash back to Zootropolis. Dropped by at the penthouse, he mused wistfully. His mind drifted as, unbidden, another picture came to him, of what it could have been like. Coming home (home!) at the end of the day with Judy, and having her fuss endlessly about his not-so-healthy food and beverage choices, and having her try and look stern about it, though she could never make her lovely violet eyes stern enough. It was a shame about her eyes, Nick thought ruefully, he would have been quite safe and well still if it hadn't been for her eyes. They were always so soft though, even when she was off on one of her rants... And if old Grizzlyguts called on him now he was a goner, he had completely run off in his mind, daydreaming about the bunny, and hadn't heard a word the bear had been saying. Good one Wilde.

Mercifully the bell sounded at that exact millisecond, and all the officers (those who were in the clear for heading out in any case) started chattering excitedly and noisily as Grizzlyfur called above the din in annoyance, warning them that they were to be all present tomorrow bright and early as usual.

"Or else," the grizzly growled menacingly.

Nick was already heading back to the door, where Taggart and McHorn were waiting, his spirits soaring, when the bear suddenly barked, 'Wilde!'

"Oh what now," the fox grumbled, as he turned back to the instructor, his heart sinking somewhat.

"Visitor for you," the bear said curtly, cocking his head to the side.

"What? Sir," Nick added hastily. He was aware of McHorn and Taggart hovering behind him, still eager to head off but faithful to their buddy officer. "Oh don't bother," he told them in exasperation. "I'll catch up. Go on then," it would be his mother, he figured, half-pleased and half-irritated; She had hinted that she was very curious about seeing where her son was cooped up and that she would be bringing him some proper cake and coffee. Which was all very nice and sweet, he thought bitterly, but the timing...

As he made his way down to the entrance hall of the central building following the formidable grizzly, Nick was forced to abandon this train of reflection rather suddenly though. The form he saw ahead, his heart rate speeding up, could not even at this distance be mistaken for a fox, the ears unmistakeably long and rabbit-ey.

The attentive, discerning reader will no doubt feel somewhat confused and perhaps even apprehensive (or hopeful?) At this point. Who on earth is the mammal behind the rabbit form visiting our dear Officer Wilde at this inopportune moment when the young fox was just about to head out for a much needed (and deserved) break with his pals? Dare one hope that it can be our heroine, too impatient to wait until she meet him again back home, in Zootropolis -

But we are getting ahead of ourselves again and rushing things. We have to recount certain events that were taking place the previous day back at Zootropolis before joining our hero again, to make sure we leave no unwelcome holes in our recital.

The morning before the day Nick Wilde was to have the afternoon off and head out to the village with the other officers, Judy Hopps was rubbing her brow, half-bemused and half-pensive, as she dawdled on the sidewalk of a busy street in Sahara.

"I think you should review the chain of events here girl," she murmured to herself, using the phrase she so often employed at work, as she shook her head, as if amazed at herself.

Since speaking to FruFru and unburdening herself, the rabbit officer had felt marginally better, even if no clear course of action presented itself yet as to what she ought to do in regards to her newfound more-than-friendly feelings towards her partner, the notorious Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Having at least one friend listen to her and not react in an overly shocked way had proven to be an enormous comfort though, and for that Judy was fervently grateful.

If no clear course of action presented itself so far on the front of Judy Hopps' romantic hopes, she was suddenly and acutely aware of a strong sense of sympathy for (of all mammals) Jack Savage. Realizing that the cross-species attachment placed them (in a way) in the same boat, Judy found herself dwelling on the subject as she drank her herbal tea with FruFru after their chat. Judy remembered suddenly how Jack had intimated that he was being forced to act against his will, being blackmailed by heaven knew whom, who apparently had access to 'someone he had cared for'.

"But how can that be Skye?" she asked incredulously, addressing her tea as much as she was addressing FruFru for she didn't exactly expect the shrew to have the answer. "The arctic fox passed away, didn't she?"

FruFru lowered her thimble of tea and frowned thoughtfully.

"She did without a doubt," she confirmed, racking her brains for the memories of her girlhood to resurface. "Daddy had told mother about that, I remember listening at the door... they had thought I was in bed. The whole story was supposed to be kept out of my earshot at the time, you see," she grimaced. "Let me see, that was all of nine... even ten years ago now. Skye dying, Savage disappearing... there were the children," she added suddenly.

Judy watched her friend closely, not daring to interrupt the line of reflection she was pursuing.

"Yes, Skye had several kits from her marriage, you see..." FruFru tutted her toddler for trying to grab at the hot thimbleful and twisted a lock of styled dark hair around her minute paw, lost in thought again. "The kits," she continued. "I never remember if there were three - or four? It seems to me like different mammals would quote different numbers. But I always felt that maybe that was a lead," she tittered self-deprecatingly. "Dear me, here's me using your police jargon! But I did, you know, I did use to wonder whether Skye hadn't secreted at least one of her kits away before disaster fell. The eldest would have been old enough to understand a thing or two, you know. And she was said to have been a very caring mother, if nothing else..."

"How would she have saved one of her kits, even if she'd wanted to?" Judy asked incredulously. "I thought she was in a shipwreck."

"Well, yes," FruFru pursued her train of thought doggedly. "But that's the thing about shipwrecks isn't it? Not like every victim is accounted for. Now, you may tell me I am just fanciful, and maybe I am," she shrugged a touch defensively. "But I always rather imagined that if she knew what a huge risk she was running - and trust me, that fox was supposed to be smart - she would have left at least the eldest child behind. Somewhere safe, where she could get them once she was able to."

"Would you have done that?" Judy raised her eyebrows at her friend. "Left JuJu behind?"

FruFru smiled ruefully.

"It sounds strange to you, I am sure," she said, gathering her daughter in her paws. "But if I thought it was her best chance then yes, yes I would have."

"Her best chance?" Judy repeated thoughtfully, looking down at tiny JuJu.

"I think Skye will have dropped her eldest somewhere safe before she embarked on that vessel," FruFru burst out, all in a rush. "And that she was going to pick them up later - except she drowned, didn't she? So that maybe she couldn't. I always heard mammals quoting three or four kits to her name, never agreeing on how many. That will have accounted for it."

"And that kit has resurfaced now and is being used for leverage?" Judy knit her brow. "How old?.."

"Still underage I would say," FruFru sniffed. "It was all of ten years ago, but the fox, Skye's child would still be very young and vulnerable. I guarantee you they would be susceptible to be held hostage in some way."

"Where will they have been all this time?" Judy asked.

"Kept away somewhere where the enemies of Skye and Savage could have them handy for use as needed?" FruFru suggested. "You're the detective my dear, I am sure you could find out."

Judy could and she did. She had mulled the issue over once FruFru and JuJu had left, unable to sleep, and had finally made a late-night run over to work. Precinct One's headquarters were quiet with only the late patrol around, but as a senior officer Judy had access to her office at any time of the day and night. Engrossed in the case, feeling somehow that the whole thing led back to her diamonds, chocolates and night howlers trouble, and thankful to be away from the penthouse and her musings over Nick, the rabbit had fallen to work.

She hadn't known where to start at first, but searched the system for mentions of Skye. She had expected there to be little on the arctic fox (who must have operated under alias for her business) and she was correct. She did however find a scan of a black and white newspaper clipping mentioning the attendees of an elite luncheon held at Zootropolis some twelve years ago for a charity, that mentioned 'Mrs Skye Snow' among other notable guests. She was depicted in the picture, pearls about her neck, a champagne flute in her paw, her head thrown back in a careless laugh. Judy perused the article, wondering why this was kept on file, and raised her eyebrows as she read that some collections of diamonds and precious gems were reported missing after the party. From what she could find, they had not been recovered. Mrs Snow had not been found to have any connection to the disappearance.

"Of course not," Judy murmured darkly, studying the photo. She couldn't dislike the animal, however. Skye (at least on the grainy photo) looked as different from Margaret Frost the reporter as could be imagined. Her eyes, crinkled in mirth, seemed to hold a genuine expression of warmth. Judy remembered that she was supposed to be a caring mother and then, checking the date on the clipping, realized with a jolt that the fox had died not two full years later.

Feeling squeamish, she had perused the bulky archives for a while, until a sudden brainwave made her dive into reports of missing cubs and kits, and, from there, orphanage records. Several minutes later she was drumming her fingers grimly on the side of the table, as she read over the report that a kit six years of age had been taken in by the Rainbow Orphanage in the Rainforest District. The orphaned kit had been deposited by 'relatives' who had not 'the means' to support him. The state had provided accommodation for this young 'Mr Sylvester Snow'.

Now why, Judy wondered darkly, would such kind relatives place an arctic fox kit outside of Tundra that boasted no less than five eligible orphan homes, and dump him in Rainforest? And why did it seem that, the year after his arrival in the home, 'Mr Sylvester Snow' was nowhere to be found in the records, though there was a 'Mr Bobby White' of the same eye colour, date of birth, and also an arctic fox, listed at the orphanage?

Here was a kit being retained against their will. Tucked away in Rainforest where no one in their right mind would come looking for an arctic fox. It was a hunch, but a good one, Judy felt. And, like a good officer, if she had a hunch a citizen (and a minor, to boot) was being retained somewhere against their will, and for the purpose of being used as leverage for blackmail, no less, why, it was her duty to check it out. Her official duty.

But it was only 7 am the next morning, so her official duty hadn't yet begun. She could follow through on her unofficial instinct, just a little bit, the rabbit reasoned. And her gut told her that, if blackmail were indeed involved, by the time she got through to the kit, uniform and all, she will have stirred up too much racket and thrown him in danger more than helped him out. Which was why she was here, out in Sahara, standing patiently outside Jack Savage's undercover chocolate shop, a copy of the file containing the information about Sylvester Snow's whereabouts tucked under her arm as she awaited the shop's opening.

She saw a light go on somewhere inside the shop and squared her shoulders, sucking her breath in.

"Gosh, do I hope I'm doing the right thing," she muttered, moving towards the shop door decisively.

And now our cherished reader must join us once again back at the training centre where our hero is so untimely torn away from his attempt at a well-earned afternoon out with his buddies and called forward to see who his unexpected uninvited visitor is. The events we have previously described at the training centre were actually taking place on the day after the one that saw our beloved Officer Hopps marching into Jack Savage's undercover chocolate shop.

Which is why it might be a bit surprising to recognize that very rabbit, Mister Jack Savage, in the mammal that now presented himself to Junior Officer Wilde, walking forward eagerly to meet the fox. Nick was certainly surprised to see him and not a little bit annoyed; the rabbit he might have wished to see visit him was definitely not the one he now beheld. And another feeling Nick also experienced at that point was apprehension. Whatever Savage had dragged himself all the way over to Rocky Hills for was not and could not be good news.

"Now what does the chocolate powdered bunny possibly want?" is how the fox greeted hiss old acquaintance, before the latter had a chance to so much as open his mouth.

Jack sighed with exaggerated patience, straightening his blazer. The rabbit was as ever smartly dressed in a dark suit and crisp white shirt, complete with a pinstriped tie knotted perfectly at his neck. So neatly tied one would have thought he'd just been in an origami folding competition, Nick thought cynically, loosening the collar of his own police uniform.

"Your manners perfectly reflect the circles in which you have been brought up Officer," was how Nick was answered. "It is less noticeable when Officer Hopps is there to offset your brusque ways with her more soft spoken ones."

"Yeah well, she isn't here in case you haven't noticed Candy Crook," Nick countered, his inner sensors turning on full alert. "So it's just me you'll be talking to I'm afraid."

Jack Savage inclined his head to one side.

"Yes, I am aware of that Officer. It was my intention to speak to you alone, which is why I have just driven for several hours, speeding a fait deal I may add, to make it in time from Zootropolis that I may catch you heading out."

Nick raised his eyebrows.

"How fun," he said, the bitterness in his tone dripping through. "And here you are. Right on time to catch me heading out, like you said, and blocking my one afternoon out."

Savage seemed uplifted to hear this, his ears perked up, not unlike Judy's when she was pleased to hear a piece of news.

"Is that so Officer? Is that so indeed? That is nothing short of providence. I will accompany you then to somewhere we can speak more privately at than here," he gestured around the rather open entrance hall of the training centre at that.

Nick groaned.

"Is this a set-up?" he asked the rabbit wearily, eyeing him to try and assess whether he was hiding anything up his blazer sleeves. "Cause this was supposed to be the time I go and have a proper cup of coffee with my friends."

Savage seemed completely unperturbed by Nick's tone.

"One can't have everything in life Officer," he offered politely. "I would have much rather not have driven for hours incurring what will probably amount to fairly heavy fines for my infringements, all to see your revolting orange muzzle and try and knock some sensible information in your noggin. Yet here I am," he spread his arms disarmingly.

"I'm flattered," Nick grumbled. He had been doing some quick thinking while Savage spoke. Nick knew Judy had to be ok. She had sent him a short text just a couple of hours back, before he had gone into his last study period. It hadn't been much, just a selfie snapshot of herself and Francine the elephant getting smoothies on their lunch break (the shot intended on making him chuckle as the smoothies were elephant proportioned and Judy could barely hold hers up with both paws while Francine held her own and took the photo. Nick had smiled at the inside joke that recalled the first time he and Judy had met.) And here was Savage, cool as a cucumber stored in an icebox, though he had had to have driven out from Zootropolis like he'd said. So there was no way anything could have befallen Judy at his paws. What on earth he could have to tell him the fox had no idea, yet it seemed safer to hear the animal out and then decide, than to infuriate him and send him back to Zootropolis - and Judy - in such a state. One thing was sure, this bunny could be dangerous, or his name wasn't Wilde. "How about we head to the pub, Long Ears," Nick suggested finally. "And I give you thirty minutes to spit your story out. Then you clear off and let me have a peaceful time out with the other cops."

Ignoring the name calling entirely, Jack Savage (who seemed to be in quite the cooperative mood), merely stepped aside and gestured towards the exit.

"If you'll still feel like having your coffee after we've spoken," was how he responded. "I'd bet my stakes I can put that quite out of your mind."

Nick looked the rabbit over suspiciously, wondering whether this was a threat or just the mutual dislike they felt for each other shining through. The young officer wished fervently that he'd been allowed to carry a firearm around town on his outings. The training centre prohibited such practice except on shooting tryouts though, as the police officers present were not on active duty.

"I'm just brimming over with good fortune today," Nick sighed irritably to himself as he fell in step with Savage on their way out the bleak building and into the mellow perfumed summer air.

The Mountain Goat was a modest establishment. Gilbert Goatherd, the owner, was a rather middle-aged, tubby goat (appropriately) who had been keeping the pub running these past seventeen years. He seldom found cause to raise his (incredibly bushy) eyebrows these days, as he manned (or goated) the bar, wiping mug after mug into pristine shiny glamour with endless cotton dishtowels. He had witnessed the occasional brawl in his day, but nothing too amiss had ever happened during his reign to date. This was hardly surprising as his clientele consisted mostly of the 'regulars' - various inhabitants of the village down at Rocky Hills - the very occasional travellers passing through and seeking refreshment, and of course the cadets training out at the centre when they got their rare and much cherished afternoon off.

It was one such afternoon, by all accounts, Gilbert concluded, as the bar's tiny silver bell tinkled and the double doors were swung open to admit a tiger and rhino in uniform.

"A G&T boss, and hurry please!" was how the tiger addressed the distinguished goat-tender as he reached the bar before his colleague.

"A pint," the rhino corrected him, scowling at his friend and rapping the counter. "He'll take a pint. You ain't allowed to drink heavy Taggart, not even on your time off. And you don't need Grizzlyfur anymore on your case than he already is." McHorn nodded impressively at the subdued tiger and turned politely back to the bartender. "We'll both take a pint sir, if you've any lager please."

"Coming right up officers," Gilbert replied good-naturedly. "Training going well then?" he generally engaged in a bit of amiable chit-chat with the customers he intended to make feel welcome, and the ZPD officers dropping by on their time off were always a huge hit with the locals. The locals of Rocky Hills were rather proud of their training grounds and any evening that found the training officers off at the bar was sure to be one that brought lots of business in. The residents would flock in round the cadets, asking them eagerly how they were getting on (no mystery there as far as Gilbert was concerned - the ones that had earned their afternoon off were obviously doing well enough) and how much longer they would be staying, and how were things going up in the big city and so on. It was the local attraction of sorts. Pity there were only two of them tonight though, Gilbert thought ruefully, as the two ZPD officers went off to a corner table with their drinks.

The goat had to admit he stood corrected just a short while later as the double doors swung open again to admit yet another officer, this one a young fox, his auburn fur bright against his uniform and his expression rather sulky for someone who was supposed to be on their afternoon off. Gilbert the goat was moved to be nearly surprised, especially as he saw that the fox was followed by a trim young rabbit dressed in an impeccable suit and looking bored more than anything else.

"Do you have any decent coffee for the love of mammals everywhere?" was the greeting the bartender received from this tardy red-furred arrival, as his long-eared companion (one hardly got the impression the pair were friends) added,

"And Earl Grey or any other smoked tea if you please sir."

"Won't be a moment," were the words that mercifully left Gilbert's mouth thanks to many years of habit, experience not letting astonishment get the better of him.

"Wilde! You made it!" McHorn called from the corner, but the fox, far from looking happy at finding his fellow officers again, just grimaced at him.

"I'll join you guys later," he called back, as he slumped off to join Savage at a table at the other end of the long room, leaving McHorn and Taggart with raised eyebrows and slack jaws, exchanging looks of surprise.

Once out of earshot and after taking a hefty swig of espresso, Nick cut to the chase.

"You had better make this worth my time, Easter Bunny," he shot at Savage.

"Yes yes, or else, thy wrath shall be unequalled," Jack replied, rolling his eyes, as he steeped his tea expertly.

"Something like that," Nick conceded. "How about coming to your point, oh Savagest of Rabbits?"

"You're so droll," Jack rubbed his nose wearily as if he were confronted with a particularly tiresome toddler. "A laugh a minute. Well, if you please; we've nothing to say to each other, except for business matters as it were anyway." The rabbit sat straighter in his seat and adjusted his tie in a well-practiced gesture, for all the world like a young recruit at an interview. "Officer Wilde," he said to a very sceptical Nick. "I have come here today on a friendly mission, though you may find it hard to believe. I trust that once I have unburdened myself you will be more ready to see things from my point of view though," he added a sugar lump to his tea and stirred it slowly, while Nick mentally counted to three to avoid throwing his paws up and shouting "Will you spit it out already?"

"You will remember," Savage continued, after drinking deeply from his cup. "That I informed yourself and Officer Hopps on the memorable occasion of my visiting your lodgings, that I was being pulled into a criminal scheme against my will via the means of blackmail?"

"I remember you delivering some sort of wishy washy speech like that, I sure do," Nick agreed half-exasperated and half-impatient.

"You will be thrilled to know in this case," Jack had turned to face him, his paws folded neatly atop the table. "That thanks to your esteemed partner, Officer Hopps, the threat hanging over my head has been removed."

Nick had to raise his eyebrows at that one.

"Is that so?" he asked suspiciously.

"It is indeed," Jack nodded emphatically. "And I will give you the whole story. You will understand that my being here has to do with my readiness to provide information of the most valuable nature to you, in exchange for the invaluable service Officer Hopps has in turn provided me. Of her own accord I might add."

This sounded somewhat too good to be true to Nick.

"Why didn't you just talk to Hopps then?" he asked drumming his fingers on the checked tablecloth. "Since it's her you owe one to anyway?"

Savage scowled darkly.

"That will be rather clear from my narrative Officer. Suffice it to say, I would much rather not throw Officer Hopps under direct assault due to her - from what I can perceive - fiery disposition. I find it would serve her much better in the long run that I disclose my information to one who is sure to act in her best interest but is more, shall we say, risk-averse and less prone to flights of impulse."

"Or someone you would much readier throw under that direct fire now, wouldn't you Mister Chocolate Coating?" Nick raised his eyes to the heavens as if asking what he had done to deserve this punishment.

"Perhaps that is also true," Savage shrugged nonchalantly.

"So you're such an amazing judge of character, are you now, Long Ears," Nick scoffed at the rabbit, who watched him, unmoved. "That you think whatever you have to say to me will have me running along with your plan?"

"Judge of character, yes," Savage nodded carelessly. "I have every belief that you will do what is best for Miss Judy Hopps, or I would not have bothered coming to speak to you."

"Do tell," Nick leaned his elbows on the table wondering just how far-fetched this story would get.

Jack looked at him with a slight air of surprise.

"Officer Wilde," he said, laying a paw on Nick's arm and injecting what was obviously meant to be a note of earnestness into his tone.

Nick had an immediate sense of foreboding that this talk would not go well at all.

"We-ell?" he asked, guarded.

Savage spread his arms with the air of someone explaining that two plus two equals four to a stubborn kindergartener.

"You are in love with Officer Hopps-"

Coffee burns when you inhale it, and badly so. This is what Nick discovered, as he had unwisely been planning on taking a sip of his drink at that exact moment.

"What?" he spluttered as soon as speech was possible again.

"You have sprayed your drink," Jack said, displeasure written all over his face as he checked his sleeves for spots.

"Well what sort of a question is that supposed to be?" Nick exclaimed, straining to keep his voice low at the same time as he cast a weary eye to the other side of the room where McHorn and Taggart were laughing together.

"It is hardly a question," Savage replied icily. "It was more of a statement."

"A statement? A statement!"

"Fell free to deny it," Jack shrugged.

Caught out, Nick ground his teeth in frustration and pushed his cup further down the tabletop unnecessarily.

"You are not denying it," Jack pointed out after politely waiting for Nick to speak.

"Bite me Savage," Nick ran a paw through his fur in exasperation. "Is there a point to this?"

"My point," Savage said. "Was to explain why I was sure you would act in the lady's best interest. Whatever the consequences to yourself," he added nastily, eyeing the fox with dislike.

"Why don't you give us your tale, Fluff," Nick offered, eager to get somewhat back on track and wondering how much weirder his day was about to get.

He had no idea.

"I have been forced to participate in this business affair (for want of a happier turn of phrase) against my will, as I have previously stated," Savage announced, after refilling his cup from the steaming cheerful willow-patterned teapot he had been provided by Gilbert the bartender.

"So we've heard," Nick was watching the double agent closely.

"And it is the exact truth," Jack said emphatically. "I perceived you were familiar with my history, or some version of it anyway, whatever animals are saying now Heaven alone can know," he shrugged in a would-be careless manner, but Nick noticed there was a crease between his eyebrows. "You will know that in my youth I had formed an attachment to Mrs Skye Snow - Miss Skye Frost, as she went before she had been married to that good for nothing -"

"Frost?" Nick exclaimed, startled.

"Yes, of course," Jack looked at him sideways. "And yes, you don't need to ask, for I know what your question is. Yes, herself and Miss Margaret Frost are first cousins; their fathers were brothers."

"Well for the love of -" Nick picked his coffee cup up and set it down again unnecessarily, quite at a loss for anything more pertinent to say.

"I can understand your sentiment, however you would not have been surprised if you had mingled in the right... ah, business circles ten to fifteen years ago. Everyone who's anyone knows that there were only two clans among the arctic foxes worth considering - the Snows and the Frosts - and they are heavily inter-related." Jack wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I hardly know who was the worse for wear of the two heads of those clans. Frost the First was a backstabber if ever I've seen one, and sly - forgive me - as the devil himself. That was Margaret and dear Skye's grandfather. Old man Snow, and I mean Marius, was a bloody tyrant though, and a heart of ice into the bargain. He's the one who pushed his excuse of a son on Frost the First to marry him off to Skye," Savage crumpled up the small paper wrapper that had contained two sugar cubes with barely concealed irritation.

"Vixen could have rebelled?" Nick suggested, raising his eyebrows.

Jack snorted.

"Nobody in the family 'rebelled' when old Frost gave an order. Besides, she was vey young back then, and very naive I suppose." A slightly far-away, reminiscent look came into the rabbit's pale blue eyes as he propped his chin up on his fist. "She remained naive until the end," he added after a pause. "She was very bright, always a good head for business, cool mind. So many ideas. But she just couldn't see some things. She felt like everything was a game and no one really could wish her ill. Take her cousin," Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "Anyone with half a neuron still firing could see immediately that Margaret hated Skye. There is a special brand, Officer, of loathing and spite, and jealousy too, where two siblings or cousins are concerned who are always compared by the family, and the advantage always falls out on the same side," Jack grinned bitterly. "And Margaret unfortunately was always the more ambitious, though the less talented of the two."

"Well, you've certainly lost no love there, Mister Whiskers," Nick commented, shaking his head.

"You may well rest assured on that account," Jack inclined his head. "Since the day I met Miss Margaret Frost, many years ago, there has been nothing but a mutual sense of loathing between the two of us. I knew at a glance she was every bit the backstabber her grandfather had been, and would not hesitate to throw friend or foe under the bus if it suited her purpose."

"And yet you seem to be in cahoots," Nick sniffed, daring a blunt remark.

"Yes, that we are," Jack agreed heavily. He seemed to have reached the core of his narrative, for he cleared his throat and turned squarely to face Nick. "But while Miss Frost acts in her own interest, I was operating under blackmail, so you see we are not exactly on equal footing."

"So... she is the one doing the blackmail?" Nick ventured.

"She is the messenger," Jack explained. "She is working for some important customer - and, before you ask, I cannot unfortunately tell you whom, for I have only had to work with her and not gotten to know who our esteemed mastermind is. No wonder though, for any animal who knew me even five minutes would know that, as soon as the noose around my neck were loosened, I'd turn round on my ex-conspirators." he set his now empty teacup aside carefully and folded his hands on the table as if he were speaking about a mildly interesting topic in the daily gazette. "Miss Margaret Frost approached me several months ago," he continued. "Much to my annoyance because I had made a clean breech of the whole lot of them after losing Skye. It had been my belief that Skye's four kits (to whom I assure you I was equally strongly attached, for they are their mother over and not their father in the least) had all perished with her. You may imagine my shock when Margaret was able to produce unmistakeable evidence, in the form of photos and even video footage, that the youngest (a lad named Sylvester) was still alive and well, and kept in an orphanage (though she would of course not tell me where). I was to collaborate with her very elaborate plan of obtaining samples of the Night Howlers Serum for he mysterious client or else... you can imagine the ending of that proposition."

"Yup," Nick had felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He was also remembering how much Hopps had disliked Frost from day one. Well, all the more credit to you, Carrots, he thought ruefully.

"Precisely," Jack said, and it took Nick a moment to realize that the rabbit's paws were clenching and unclenching from suppressed rage. "Her own cousin's kit I may add. That's the family for you. Never understood why Skye turned out the way she did." He pulled himself together with some effort and continued. "You may well imagine that I put every action I could into place to secure the boy while following along with the Night Howler business out of necessity. I do not know how many animals in Tundra Town I bribed to comb the orphanages there - and all to no avail, for, as your clever Miss Hopps discovered, the boy was being kept out in a hovel in Rainforest." Jack thumped an angry fist on the table. "If that doesn't beat all. Placing your own flesh and blood in a climate so entirely unsuited to their nature."

"So you have him?" Nick asked, riveted. "Thanks to Hopps?"

"I have him," a small genuine smile tugged at the corners of Savage's mouth for the first time since he had started speaking. He produced his phone and showed Nick several photographs that were undoubtedly very recent and showed a young teenager of an arctic fox, looking dazed but very happy as he beamed at the camera. "That's him when I got him yesterday," Jack explained. "Notice the shocking clothes they have the children wear in that hole.. Rainforest indeed. Ah yes, this is a friend of his from the orphanage. He was loath to say goodbye but I explained to him in no uncertain tones that he was under grave danger and the only thing we could do at this time was to remove ourselves. You can see that it runs in the blood Officer," he grimaced at that and Nick, glancing at the photo, understood, for the friend the young Mister Snow was saying goodbye to at the orphanage was a rabbit. "And this is him this very morning as I left him," Jack concluded, showing the last photograph. "I had much rather not have left him quite so soon, but propriety urged me to return the favour of Officer Hopps' extraordinary kindness. I have left him out of town, in the country with some of my mother's family, all rabbits I can rely on... you will know, Officer, that we rabbits generally come from very vast clans?"

The photo did indeed show the young kit tucking into a humongous breakfast of pancakes and jam, surrounded by several elderly rabbits fussing round him, hills and fluffy clouds visible behind the window. Nick felt somewhat dazed at this recital but tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

"How on earth did you get the boy out so quickly?" he asked, watching Savage closely to see if his story would hold through.

"More bribery," Savage replied, entirely unabashed as he put his phone away in his suit pocket after bestowing a fond look at the photo. "It is very effective Officer. A shame you can not apply it in your daily work."

"And they let you have him?" Nick asked astounded. "Just like that? A passerby from the street?"

"Well, they let me get through the paperwork in record time, that's more the point," Jack said. "As for passerby from the street, I am hardly that Officer. The lad is my stepson and that makes me his guardian, you understand."

Nick felt even more dazed.

"You adopted the kits?" he asked incredulously.

Jack gave him an odd look.

"What is there peculiar about adopting my wife's children, be they from a previous marriage?" he asked in a suspicious tone, as if wondering whether Nick were joking around.

"You married the vixen?" Nick spluttered.

"Oh," the rabbit blinked. "I had assumed you'd heard our full story. Well yes, yes I did. Once she was widowed. What precisely shocks you? That someone like me would have made an honest lady of her?"

"It's illegal!" Nick threw his paws up.

"Well now, no it isn't," Jack seemed mildly annoyed. "But many animals think that for some reason. It's been decreed more than thirty years ago though Officer! They have a special bureau for that though," he scowled. "To put animals off the idea. It's all sloths who run the show. Enough to discourage anyone from getting the knot tied. We went through with it Officer, but the ceremony lasted all of five hours, I'll tell you that," he gave a short laugh. "And it would have been more, but my lady had had enough and just kept crying out will you get on with it? It was quite the scene. We were odiously late to the meal that followed."

"Right," Nick was feeling more astonished by the moment. The wedding information had been a touch too much for him; "So you recuperated your.. stepson," he said, trying valiantly to get back on track with the recital.

"Yes," Jack nodded. "Got him out of the home. Drove him out to the country. Drove out here to speak to you. I'm beat... patron, can we have more tea please?"

"The Night Howler Serum," Nick prompted him, as soon as the bartender was out of earshot. "Who does Frost want it for? Is it an inside job for her family?"

"Hardly," Jack shook his head. "Frost the First has been gone several years, and the same is true for Old man Snow... sticky end the pair of them had, and Frost was ruined into the bargain," he added with relish. "No, Margaret is working for someone else and it's a high bidder, you can be sure of that. Must have promised her the moon if she succeeds, but she'll be extra dangerous as I can only imagine the penalty for her if she fails," Jack made an expressive cutting gesture against his neck.

"And the diamonds?" Nick asked him.

"The diamonds," Jack replied, showing no surprise at Nick's knowledge of them. "Are not there for payment though you might have imagined that. They are some special breed, which I can't tell you much of, not being an expert, but powdered and added to the serum they are supposed to make it incredibly potent and basically irreversible."

"Of all the-" Nick swore. A memory surfaced in his mind suddenly. "The interview Hopps was pulled in for, on TV, that was a set-up?"

"You mean the time I first had the privilege of meeting your partner? Yes, of course," Jack carefully set down the fresh teapot he had been brought. "And I must say I was probably rather unpardonable that day. I had been pulled into the whole affair not long before Officer. I rather thought that the ZPD might be working in unison with whoever was behind the scheme... no need to vaporize me with your stare Officer," he added, catching Nick's eye. "I have no friends, and I had learned my stepchild was in danger. I prefer to be suspicious first rather than mutton-headed. The innocent rabbit cop struck me as too good to be true. I can see now that I was entirely mistaken on Miss Hopps' account of course," he added fairly.

"So Margaret Frost arranged the set-up," Nick muttered, clenching his fists.

"She arranged many things," Jack wrinkled his nose in distaste. "She had herself posted at the ZPD headquarters for her would-be documentary to get her paws on that serum. Unlucky for her, you and your partner always seemed to present a united front she couldn't quite push through."

"Well boo-hoo for Frosty Foxy," Nick said through gritted teeth.

"Boo-hoo for yourself Officer, for she had decided early on that if she was to nab that serum she had to break the two of you up to have a shot of it," Savage told him sternly.

Nick gazed at him, uncomprehending.

"Margaret has always been a mastermind at one thing," Jack said. "And that's falsifying any and every form of document."

"Yes?" Nick felt somewhat at sea.

"Officer," Jack sighed heavily. "Miss Frost handled Officer Hopps' prequalification test. Your partner did in fact pass after all."

For a full ten seconds Nick couldn't speak at all, as several emotions fought inside him to see whether anger, astonishment or relief would win. Apparently rage was the trumped all though.

"That slimy-" he started, and had to break off as the animals at the next table glanced over. "How on earth could she have done that?" he demanded in a dramatically lowered voice. "Don't tell me she wrote a whole test out herself and then shoved that in Hopps' folder? She couldn't have!"

"No," Savage agreed. "But she very well could switch Hopps' test around with someone she knew was bound to fail; She had spent weeks at your HQ after all and knew the officers pretty well. Tell me, isn't there anyone here in training with you who you feel got in on a miracle and who is really not up to scratch?"

Nick's gaze jumped unbidden to the corner table where Taggart the tiger was laughing uproariously at something McHorn had said.

"Him?" Jack asked, following the direction Nick was looking at. "Yes, he looks like the type. So full of himself he wouldn't even wonder what lucky star had pulled him through."

"How could you have let this happen?" Nick demanded, outraged.

"I was being blackmailed Officer," Jack pointed out sternly. "How could you have let this happen? I felt sure that Margaret's hare-brained scheme would never have worked. Bogo is a moron, not pushing an inquiry when one of his best troops falls through so inexplicably."

"And here's Hopps thinking she failed," Nick grumbled, massaging his temples.

"Indeed," Savage agreed darkly. "But there is a silver lining to every storm Officer. I hardly know what possessed her to take such a sudden keen interest in my case, but she did, and I feel sure she would not have spared it that much thought if she'd gotten through to the training. And as a result I am miraculously freed from this mess and I have born you what information I had."

"All of it?" Nick asked suspiciously.

Jack considered his question. "There is one more thing that can be of use," he conceded; "I do know that a deadline was placed on our work as whatever attack has been planned, it must take place at the big concert the singer Gazelle is giving early this fall."

Nick gulped, his pulse racing.

"Hopps is going there - and me too, if I can have the week-end off. She's had the tickets for ages."

"The entire city is going there," Savage agreed heavily.

"Can we call it off?" Nick was running a paw through his fur in agitation.

"Officer, I would have much rather have spoken to Miss Hopps, I confess I could not bring myself to face her reaction at the intimation that she was cheated her test results," Savage stated. "But please don't do me the injustice of supposing that I bestowed my confidences on a blockhead. You so much as hint you're onto the trail and raise a racket over the concert..."

"And the attack takes place elsewhere and probably sooner rather than later," Nick finished for him.

"Precisely," Jack agreed, sipping his tea unconcernedly.

"You're a piece of work," Nick told him, shaking his head. "A two-faced, conniving-"

"I'm all of that and more," Savage agreed easily. "But you can't argue that I pay my debts." he started rummaging in his pocket for his wallet, obviously intent on paying the bill.

"And what now, where you're concerned Cotton Tail?" Nick asked him.

"Now," Jack replied, counting the change out. "I have acquitted my conscience so I can go free and enjoy what relative peace of mind remains me, with my extended family and my stepson, trusting the ZPD to take care of this storm."

Nick took a snap decision. On the one paw, what Savage had said seemed to hold up. On the other paw, he had to see Hopps fast, confirm what the double agent had said, and break to her the news about her having gotten a high score at the test after all; But he didn't want to turn his back on Savage, not just yet, in case this whole thing had been a set-up.

"I don't think you've acquitted your conscience far enough yet, buddy," he told Jack pleasantly. "I think you'd really rather tag along a bit more with me on a jaunt back to the penthouse, see how your story holds through with Hopps."

Jack raised his eyebrows at the fox.

"Jaunt? I was under the impression, Officer, that you were in a strict training centre, not a holiday resort you could leave as your fancy suggested."

"I am," Nick agreed easily. "But this is my night off - and you brought your car! I'll sneak out and sneak back in, they'll never miss me."

Jack stared at him, apparently somewhat impressed.

"You are very much like Hopps, I see," he said finally. "Breaking any and every rule for 'the greater good'."

"Something like that," Nick chuckled.

Jack heaved a sigh.

"I suppose you are leaving me no say in the matter in any case," he grumbled. "I will go quietly with you, if that is your wish, but on one condition."

"And what's that Easter Bunny?"

"I am positively exhausted of speaking to your revolting orange muzzle," Jack said pleasantly. "A touch of radio for the drive would be very welcome."

No objections were raised as Nick shared the criminal's feelings entirely on that score.