Chapter 11.
Her shift was due to start in ten minutes and despite her determination Judy didn't know if she could face the bull pen. All those sympathetic faces and sorry smiles made her shudder. So, she did what she always did when she needed help and Nick wasn't there. She called her parents. Stu and Bonnie were well aware of what had happened and a few brief texts and phone calls had assured them that Judy was well on the way to recovery. They picked up on the second ring.
"Hey mom, hey dad," she said, smiling as best she could. "How's it going?"
"Jude the dude," her father crowed. "Good to hear from you. Nice to see that shiner of yours is going down. How are the ribs?"
"Still a little sore but as long as I don't run I'm OK," she replied, gingerly touching the bruise around her eye.
"And Nick? How's that fox of ours?" interjected Bonnie, the worry clear in her eyes.
"No word yet," sighed Judy. "But we're making progress and that's what counts. We'll have him and the others safe soon."
"Listen Judy we know you and the ZPD have this well in hand but we just wanted you to know that you have our support. Your father and I love you and Nick and we want to see you both safe. If that means going through hell to get him back then we'll be there with you every step of the way. You gotta fight through the dark times to get to the light Judy always remember that."
"I will and thanks guys. OK I gotta go my shift's starting but I'll call you when I get the chance. Love you!"
The phone screen went black and Judy let out a long breath. Time to face the music. Nervous but determined she strode out of the changing rooms outfitted in her specialised ZPD uniform designed to afford her maximum agility and speed. Clawhauser gave her the thumbs up from his desk and she caught several officers looking at her. When she locked eyes with them they smiled and nodded at her. Her ears twitching nervously, she pushed open the door to the bull pen.
"Welcome back Hopps," called out Fangmeyer.
"Jeez I'd hate to see the other guy," said Delgado, eyeing Judy's bruises.
"The ALF aren't going to know what hit 'em," snarled Grizzoli.
"Welcome back," said Wolford. "Partner."
"Appreciate it Wolford," replied Judy, sitting beside him.
"OK settle down officers," announced Bogo. "Now we all know what the main order of business here today is. Find Officer Wilde. Those of you not already occupied with other cases are to assist with the search in Foxton. Lieutenant Bungo will be up in Bird One providing aerial over watch with Detective Buckton. Any questions? No? Good, dismissed! Wolford, Hopps and Grizzoli hang back a moment please."
The bull pen cleared out quickly enough leaving only the wolf, polar bear, and rabbit with the water buffalo. Judy guessed Harv Grizzoli had been drafted in to help her and Wolford. The extra muscle definitely wouldn't go amiss and she was grateful for the solitary bear's assistance.
"I recently took the liberty of going through Officer Wilde's mail," began Bogo. "Several weeks ago, internal affairs had flagged some of Wilde's mail as suspicious. Working off a hunch I took a look and the letters are a strange foresight into the current situation. The address was tracked to a burnt-out house in east Foxton and I feel it warrants looking into. I'm sending the three of you to the address. Be careful and take the letter see if you can find any leads."
SAME MORNING. EAST FOXTON.
"I don't know what the Chief expects us to find here…" complained Wolford. "It all smells of smoke and petrol."
The house had been burnt down recently. A supposed electrical fire that had run out of control according to the file. Smoke no longer rose from the charred timbers but yellow ZPD tape was still stretched across the doorframe. They were in the hall doing their best to avoid splinters, glass, and nails. Grizzoli was stepping through the house as gingerly as he could ash dusting itself on his off-white fur.
"The Chief knows this place has something to do with the abductions," said Judy. "He wouldn't send us here without a good reason."
"I guess," grumbled Grizzoli. "Still I think you should take the upstairs Hopps. Y'know, for safety reasons."
"Sure. Wolford, you take the back of the house and Grizzoli can take the front. Shout if you find anything."
The stairs creaked and rain dripped through the huge holes in the roof onto the blackened floorboards. Three doors led off from the landing; one into a child's bedroom, the other a bathroom and the last a master bedroom. Judy went with the master bedroom first. There was a huge hole in the floor where the bed had fallen through to the kitchen below. Judy could see Grizzoli lifting it so Wolford could check under it. Two end tables balanced precariously on either side of the hole.
"C'mon Grizz just a little longer!"
"Whatever you saw better be worth it!"
"I swear it was just… Aha there it is!"
"What? What is it? What'd you find?"
"A bag of pretzels. Unburnt and unopened."
"Wolford, I swear to God…"
"Relax I'll share."
Judy suppressed a giggle as she jimmied open the drawers of the second end table, the first having revealed nothing. The drawers were stiff and swollen from the fire and firemammal's water hoses. The first drawer held nothing. The second had a silver locket hidden in ashen paper. The third revealed something that totally validated Bogo's hunch. A photo, a polaroid to be exact.
It had been hidden away but it was new. It was a shot of one of Foxton's many tenement blocks. A grey, concrete high-rise that sprouted balconies at every floor. A high wall reached the second floor and it was topped by barbed wire and covered in graffiti. It looked more like a military compound that had been abandoned to some questionable rebel movement. Several red and grey foxes could be seen guarding the gate and loitering on the balconies; weapons never far from hand.
"This is where they're hiding the hostages!" cried Judy, hopping down through the hole.
"Gazelle's gravy Hopps!" exclaimed Grizzoli. "Warn us next time."
"Where?" asked Wolford, leaning closer. "Shame there's no address that could be anywhere in Foxton. It's a big area."
"I know someone who might know," said Judy. "I'm gonna make a phonecall upstairs. Finish your sweep down here, and save me a pretzel."
She scrolled through her phone down to 'f' and found the mammal she was looking for. She hadn't spoken to him since her and Nick's detective graduation. She assumed he knew all that had happened and had been too caught up in his own worries to come visit. She pushed those thoughts away and hit dial.
"Judy?" came the voice, still as deep and surly as ever.
"Hi Finnick," she said softly. "How's it going?"
"'Bout as well as you think. Has there been any word?"
"No but I think I just found a lead and I need your help Finnick. Can you spare the time?"
"Of course, Fluff butt. Where are you?"
"457 Brush Lane."
"Shit no way. 457? Judy that – that's Nick's old place. Where he used to live with his parents. I'll be there in ten."
Nick's family home, she thought in shock. His parents had slept and fought in this room. Their son, her mate, had slept in the next. They had lived, laughed, and cried here. Now it was a shell. A burnt-out wreck you could barely call a building. Wait! The locket… Judy picked it out of the drawer and pried it open.
It was silver and in the shape of a heart. The inscription on the inner right-hand side was simple: 'To Mom, Love Nick.' On the left was a photo behind dusty glass. A young fox cub in a Junior Ranger Scouts uniform, brand new, something his mom had clearly saved up for. Standing proud at his shoulder was a vixen in her early thirties. Tall with beautiful, well-groomed fur and a thoughtful smile. Judy felt her paw quiver and her throat grow tight. She snapped the locket tightly as she heard a car pull up.
Finnick was successful now and had moved out of Foxton six months ago. Investment banking paid better than crime. He still knew the area like the back of his hand though. As soon as Judy showed him the photo he recoiled in horror.
"That's the Rusty Fur gang's territory," he explained. "A bad fuckin' spot. Called the Rusty Tower. No-go area for cops like the Big Compound in Tundra Town or the Jaws Estate in the Upper Wolverine Row. ALF must be paying the Rusties big bucks, even they wouldn't fuck with the ZPD like this. If Nick's being held there you've got a fight on your hands. A big fuckin' war in fact."
"We'll radio the Chief," said Wolford. "Let him know what's what."
"Did you find anything else in the house Judy?" asked Finnick, once the wolf and bear were out of earshot.
"Just this," she replied, holding out the locket.
Finnick took it gently and held it open. He was silent for a long time his eyes focussed on the picture as if he was trying to absorb its essence. Eventually he returned it and Judy swore she saw the dark track of a tear in his light fur and the glimmer of more to come in his eyes.
"Keep a hold of that Judy," he said thickly, turning away. "And look after yourself. Some things are too precious to lose."
"I'm bringing him back Finnick."
"You can bring him back physically Judy but there's no telling what they're doing to him up there. He's a tough fox but I've heard bad things about the Monochrome Gang. Nasty pricks. Give 'em one for me and then a few more for yourself and Nick."
THAT NIGHT. RUSTY TOWER.
Nick had been gradually worrying away at the lock on his foot manacle. They had moved him from the chair to a mattress on an iron bed frame which he was now shackled to. He could move off the bed to drink, eat and use the nearby toilet but not much more. The lock was a tricky one but Nick had picked tougher locks in his time. The problem was getting caught. The room was an old apartment with the walls knocked through. It was an entirely open space without even a curtain to cover the toilet.
Even now he heard hooves on wood and stopped what he was doing. Crossing stepped casually into the room. Dressed in military fatigues and a bulletproof vest he looked every inch the terrorist leader. Nick bared his fangs and snarled. There was no point playing games with this degenerate.
"Now, now Nicholas," said the zebra. "Is that really the way to act toward the mammal who has your life in his hands."
"If you were a real mammal you'd undo these shackles," growled Nick, hackles raised.
Jackson Crossing smiled and stepped closer just out of range of Nick's paws if he chose to pounce at him. Crossing's ears twitched suddenly and Nick looked up as distant cries and screams came to his ears. The other hostages. They were being held above him in a larger communal cell.
"Can you hear them Nick?" asked Crossing. "So close yet so far. Just out of reach. You could save them if only you weren't cuffed like that. How sad you are. Unable to help those you swore to protect and waiting on a bunny to save you."
"Shut up!" snapped Nick. "Your mind games won't work on me Crossing."
"Mind games? Oh no. This is just the warm-up. By the time I'm done with you Nick you'll be lucky if you remember your own name."