Scary Things

"Gee, DW, talking about scary things ..." Launchpad heard the fear in his own voice. He didn't want to think about this topic, but it haunted him, and it wasn't just nightmares. Well, maybe he'd had a few more than usual lately.

"What about those vampires you found? I mean; criminals are all sorts of people. Like salespeople and TV Network producers."
Darkwing paused. "I dunno; the ones I've met don't seem particularly hostile. Actually, they're a bit ... too friendly, if anything." He wandered back and jumped up the ladder, switching the screen from news to surveillance.

Obviously Darkwing hadn't gotten to read the newspaper today. Launchpad picked up the Daily Gazette from the desk and followed his friend. Launchpad climbed back up the ladder and opened it up to page four. Darkwing took it and read the article.

"... Negaduck ... trial on hold as he ... the secure wing of ..." Darkwing jumped up "Audubon General ... Hospital? That's ludicrous!"

"You don't think he's still sick, DW?" Darkwing scrunched the newspaper up in his tightening grip.
"Not for a second, Launchpad." Darkwing said in a slow, quietly aggressive tone. "If Negaduck was going to die from blood loss, he'd have done it by now." He sighed, easing up his muscles as he stood there. "At least we know where he is for the moment."
"Sure, DW, let's just hope that 'Secure Wing' holds up to its name. And when he gets out of there, he has Rex Euston to deal with."

"Attorney Rex Euston? I haven't heard of him before. He's new?"
"He used to work for the Duckberg justice department. He's real good. They say he can 'nail any case so long as the criminal has a heartbeat'."
Darkwing gave a sideways look at Launchpad, as if he wasn't keen for that expression. "Well, in this case 'heartbeat' is the operative word. So long as Negaduck plays the sick angle and manages to keep that heart rate monitor on him, Euston can't get at him."

"I bet Euston's chomping at the bit waiting to get at him."

"Oh, gosh, Launchpad! Why didn't I think of that?" Darkwing sat straight up. "I'm not sure he even knows Negaduck's game." He turned to the keyboard and typed into the yellow pages directory and came up with Rex Euston's address. "I'll be back, Launchpad, you keep an eye on the surveillance." He switched channels back to surveillance again and checked his cell phone was working before putting it back in his pocket. Once again he flipped down off the platform and raced to the rat-catcher.

Launchpad settled himself into DW's chair, dutifully watching the screen, cell phone on hand.

Darkwing rapped on the door of the single story suburban dwelling. "Mr. Attorney?" With swiveling ears, the gangly dog peered suspiciously through the doorway at him. "Darkwing Duck here."
Euston sniffed, then decided to let him in. "You're lucky, I only just got home from the office."
Darkwing checked his watch. Midnight?

As Euston closed the door behind him, Darkwing took notice of the baseball bat in his hand.
"I'm not the most popular guy." Rex Euston explained as he propped the bat back against the wall beside his coat rack. "I also disapprove of the use of guns in general, and never in private dwellings. A baseball bat, on the other hand, makes a nice satisfying clunk before they go down. It doesn't make a mess either."

He suddenly flicked the hallway light on. Darkwing cringed, blinking rapidly.
"Can I get you a cup of tea?"
"Uh, sure, thanks."

Darkwing gazed around the place as Euston began turning lights on as he went. The state lawyer's home was too tidy. Unhomely. There was a distinctly modern up market feel to what furniture there was. It was all new and shiny too. Darkwing looked but there weren't any fancy lamps anywhere. Of course he didn't have them himself in his home; they wouldn't stand a chance with Gosalyn around. "You don't have a family, Mr. Attorney?"
"Well, no. I haven't found the right one yet. Not like you have." Euston made the odd comment at Darkwing. He surely must have done a lot of background work on Darkwing to know about Morgana.

He handed him a cup of tea.
"Uh, do you have any milk?"
"Oh, darn, uh, sorry, Darkwing. I ... don't drink milk."
"That's okay." Darkwing was getting used to Morgana's herbal concoctions, and black tea wasn't too far off from that. It was one more thing that Morgana insisted that was supposed to be 'good' for him.

"So, I'm guessing this visit is about one of my cases."
"Yes sir. It's about Negaduck."
Euston growled. "It's daft; Negaduck isn't the sort to get sick."
"No, he's not sick. But to be fair; he did get injured."

Rex Euston sat down at the kitchen table, inviting Darkwing to join him. The table was solid wood and had a perfect shine; devoid of scuff marks. But there wasn't a single coaster in sight to keep it that way. "I'm trying to put this guy away, and only now you decide ..."
"Now is the time I thought of it!" Darkwing interrupted.
"So, what happened?"
"He ... lost a lot of blood."
"How?"
"Believe it or not, but it was a vampire."
"Heck, no." Euston sat back, disgruntled. He was not in the least bit surprised by the idea of vampires. "So now he's playing the anaemic duck? Ludicrous."

"Mr. Attorney, you might not get a chance to prosecute him. He'll get fed up of the hospital and leave in a hurricane of destruction. That's pretty much his MO wherever he goes."
"Well, maybe not. It's pretty cushy in there and security at the Audubon is double tight on manpower."

Darkwing shrugged and picked up his cup again. "You obviously haven't met Negaduck yet, Mr. Attorney."

"Darkwing, don't you get sick of re-catching them all the time? Doesn't it bug you? To tell you truthfully what I think: I think they're making a laughing stock of our justice system."
"That's why they're called super villains." Darkwing defended. "Megavolt has his own private hotline with security systems. Bushroot slips through the bars, Liquidator slips through the pipes. Most crimes come with a limited amount of jail time, anyway."

"Well, those cages have improved a bit since the 1800s but still I feel the concept itself is a bit suboptimal. Sometimes I think Martial Law really is a better way of handling things ... What do you think of rehabilitation, Darkwing?"
"I ... rehabilitation? Well ... maybe there's some cases that ... I admit ..." Darkwing stumbled. The concept was still new to his brain even though he'd been dating Morgana for a few months now. "Not every criminal stays a criminal."
"Now right there is the ultimate concept for the optimal solution. They just stop doing it." Euston took a sip of his drink.

"I can see the advantages that a person would have in your position." Euston leaned back from the table, gazing at Darkwing. "Pity."
Darkwing blinked. "... I beg your pardon?"
"I was just thinking; if I had your job, all the things I could do." Euston stood up.
"You might be surprised to find it a bit harder than you think." Darkwing frowned at him, getting to his feet as well. "It's not as easy as swinging a bat."

"No, of course not! It's just a fancy. I couldn't really do your job; I'd lose control if I had to deal with the things you have to. I just meant that you have the grass roots opportunity to be proactive."
"It's a dangerous job that doesn't usually afford the time or the convenience to indulge in fanciful notions." Darkwing stepped towards the door. "Goodnight, Mr. Attorney. Thanks for the tea."

"I'll pen him the next time you bring him in, I guess. And I'd appreciate any more information you might have for me on any more cases. I'm usually up till late anyway, so drop in whenever."
"I'll keep you advised, sir."

The door closed and Darkwing headed down the pathway. The houselights went off and their glow on the grass disappeared. He got to the rat-catcher and turned back to the house. "I don't think I should tell Launchpad about this one. He's already a bit too worried about vampires as it is."