"Checkmate," I sneered, sitting back and enjoying the sound the leather made as it molded to my body.
She frowned, determined to find some way to escape defeat. It was the quality I most admired in her.
The gratifying feeling of having outsmarted her for once didn't last long. My office door sprung open wide so fast that the doorknob slammed into the wall, leaving a deep impression.
"Boss, we got a problem."
I scowled, eyeing the now marred surface of the wall.
"What now?" I demanded, keeping my voice steady yet firm.
"That private detective Jacob Mallard's sniffin' around ol' Gryz's place. I think he found somethin' he shouldn'ta."
"And?" I said with raised eyebrows, taking a sip of Jack Spaniels.
"A-and?" the single-minded lackey repeated dumbly.
My grip tightened around my glass, but I got the better of my temper. I'd chosen these henchmen precisely for their devastatingly unimpressive IQs.
"And," I elaborated calmly, "did you make sure he'd know not to further pursue this 'something'?"
The fox stared at me blankly. I decided to take a different route.
"What did the detective find?"
"Copies of the stuff Gryz was passin' along to yas from SHUSH."
I smirked. It figured that SHUSH's chief agent would be so thorough. "The Feds can't touch me with it now that he's dead. Besides, they won't be able to trace it back to me."
"Th-there was somethin' else in dere, Boss."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"Records. Payment records. And your collection notices."
For an instant I felt cold, weightless, almost giddy with the twinge of fear this news brought. But it ran its course and was quickly suppressed. While it escaped my associate's attention, it caught hers. She raised a questioning eyebrow, but I ignored her.
"Get someone on his tail," I barked. "Now."
I'd known it would be wise to have someone keep an eye on the ex-chief agent's old abode. That bear couldn't be trusted even when he was alive. It infuriated me that he'd stashed evidence relating back to me. I should have offed him sooner, but the information he'd retrieved for me had proven useful.
Finally I met her curious hazel eyes.
"It seems your talents are required elsewhere, my dear."
I knew Jacob Mallard was no fool. I wasn't taking any chances with him.
She stood up, her chair dragging roughly across the Persian rug, and smoothed her outfit against her sleek figure.
"I have a meeting to attend anyway," she replied smoothly, flashing me a devious grin. But it faded as quickly as a lightening strike. "What does it do?"
"What?"
"The device the Fearsome Five stole from SHUSH. What does it do?"
The mention of my ingrate son's turncoat gang made my blood boil. The fact that he had stolen it before I could didn't exactly thrill me, either. I had been planning that heist for nearly a year.
"What does it matter?" I snapped. "Just stick to your instructions."
She looked like she'd been about to make a biting retort, but she wisely held her tongue. If everything went according to the plan slowly forming in my mind, I could kill two birds with one stone. My green eyes crinkled above a calculating smile.
Perfect.
I thought about telling J. Gander what I'd found, but the moment quickly passed and, my innate senses told me to see things through on my own. If I involved SHUSH, there'd be all kinds of red tape involved, not to mention bureaucratic paperwork, and the problem with SHUSH was that it ran like the world of crime would wait for orders to be approved before action was taken. But I knew better. You had to catch a crook red-handed, especially in this town. You had to play their game, and you couldn't do that hunched behind a desk nursing paper cuts all day.
I decided to head back to my office where I could think in private. Jake was up to something big here, and my instincts told me the Fearsome Five's heist at SHUSH was connected somehow. Everything pointed back to SHUSH, and to the development of the machine that was now in the clutches of the city's public enemy number one.
What was it, exactly? Why did Jake take such great pains to have information on it? It seemed both of St. Canard's most powerful gangs wanted control of it. I figured I would need more information on the actual weapon before I could proceed in linking the other evidence I had.
I dialed the main line for SHUSH, and then punched in an extension number.
"Yes, Dr. Bellum please," I said to the lab assistant who answered. I waited a long moment as I listened to him on the other end. "All right," I continued calmly, "just have her call Mallard, P.I. when she gets in. She should have my number."
I replaced the receiver in its cradle absently, thinking over what I'd just found out. My instincts were telling me to follow this thread and it would eventually lead me into the web.
I didn't have long to contemplate much else because a sudden knock at the door jarred me out of my thoughts.
"Come in," I snarled toward the doorway, angry that my train of thought had been derailed. I had felt close to a breakthrough.
The frosted glass revealed a hesitant silhouette reaching for the knob, and then the door opened slowly. Inside stepped someone that only made me feel even more agitated.
"Miss McCawber." I had to force my voice to stay even. I didn't have time for any more sob stories.
She took a couple of steps in and eyed me shyly, as if she was afraid I'd suddenly leap at her and devour her head. Untangling her knotted fingers from behind her, she held out a small white cloth toward me gingerly.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said apologetically in a soft voice, "but I wanted to return this."
Some part of me was amused, and I could feel the tension begin to drain away slowly. I stood up and headed toward her with an outstretched arm to receive the handkerchief.
Her eyes wandered downward inadvertently toward my legs, particularly my left one, and I knew she was just noticing my limp.
"It's all right," I smiled. Her face had flushed bright crimson when she realized I'd observed her staring. "It's an old wound; nothing worth talking about. Just a reminder that nothing is what it seems."
Just as my fingertips brushed the cotton material, the window behind me shattered in the wake of the loud BANG of gunfire.
"Get down!" I yelled, leaping at her and pulling her down to the floor. Hovering over her, I listened intently for the sound of any more bullets.
"What was -?"
"Sssh!" I hissed, trying to decipher footsteps from floor creaks.
Our breathing was heavy, and it was hard to silence the pounding in my ears. I'd been shot at before, many times in fact, but that didn't stop the adrenaline from heightening my senses to full capacity.
Multiple pings resounded just outside of the broken glass, and I knew someone was fleeing down the fire escape across the alleyway.
"Hey!" I bellowed, pushing myself up off of the ground and hobbling toward the window as fast as I could manage. But as soon as I got to the window, the only glimpse I could get of the assailant was two pointed horns, curved back in an L shape.
I heard stirring behind me and whipped around, putting my hand to the revolver I kept slung at my waist. I'd forgotten about the girl.
"Are you all right?" I asked her, though I wasn't really so much concerned with her safety as with the identity of the gunman.
"Fine," she said breathlessly as she got to her feet and leaned against the wall. "Why would someone shoot at you? Who was it?"
"Both very good questions, Miss McCawber. Ones I don't doubt I can figure out the answers to in due time. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Her face darkened and her stance grew more resolute. I could tell I wouldn't have any easy time getting rid of her. "My sister is still missing," she said pointedly. I had to keep my eyes from rolling upward in exasperation. "Have you found any leads on her yet? Or have you even bothered looking?"
"I have a heavy caseload at the moment, madam," I said as patiently as I could.
In an instant she'd stuck a fistful of something under my bill.
"I found this under the bed in my sister's bedroom."
The corners of my beak curled up in disgust. What she was showing me was a small mass of long brown hair, very curly.
"So she was brushing her hair and some of it collected under her bed. What do you want me to do, alert Maid Patrol?"
She leaned forward and glared at me directly in the eyes. "Mr. Mallard," she said evenly. "My sister has black hair."
I thought once again of the plan I was about to set in motion to dethrone my father and take control of this miserable metropolis. In a couple of days every citizen in this city would be eating out of the palm of my hand, and those who wouldn't would have their hands fed to my flesh-hungry Dobermans.
There was just one little piece of information I needed to get my hands on before I could set my perfect plan in motion. And it was proving harder to obtain than I had anticipated.
"What is with this dame!" I shouted angrily as I paced around my office, surrounded by the rest of the Fearsome Five. "We've tried everything to make her talk – even yourstupid Mr. History doll," I pointed at Quackerjack with a snarl, "and still nothing!"
"It's like her beak's sealed with Wacky Glue, Stu," piped up Quackerjack in Mr. Banana Brain's irritating voice as he waggled the doll in front of me. I glowered at him threateningly until he lowered the ridiculous toy and put it away.
Megavolt nodded in agreement. "She's harder to crack than thermoplastic bulbs."
I snarled at the lot of them, sending them quaking into a corner.
"If you imbeciles don't come up with something fast, you'll wish you had never crossed my path!"
"Too late," Megavolt whispered lowly to Bushroot, whose petals were rustling furiously in fear.
"Sounds like what you boys need is an expert interrogator."
All heads turned toward a sleek figure leaning against the doorway, wearing a gray pantsuit and a red blouse, her blonde hair pulled back loosely in a bun.
"Hey, hey, hey!" I protested defensively. "I'm the torture expert around here, sister! And this is a private conversation, so beat it!"
"Oh, I think you'll want to talk to me…" she continued nonchalantly, taking off her stylish sunglasses to reveal dramatic hazel eyes underneath. "And if you're such an expert, why hasn't your hostage given you the information you wanted?" There was a hint of a smirk on her bill that infuriated me. Didn't she know who I was!?
Just as I opened my bill to tell her off once and for all, she pulled something from her breast pocket that left me momentarily speechless. It was her badge. She was a SHUSH agent.
Immediately I whirled on my pathetic minions. "All right!" I bellowed. "Which one of you knobs squealed to the feds?"
"But it wasn't us!" Megavolt sputtered, thrusting Bushroot in front of him.
"Yeah!" chimed in the green mutant. "We're not stupid enough to rat you out, Negaduck, honest!"
"Three out of five henchmen say it's never a good idea to go against the boss!" Liquidator added, his voice containing more than its usual watery waver.
I could feel my temper flaring with white-hot rage, but her voice cut in again, interrupting my tantrum.
"They didn't tip me off."
"Then who!?" I snapped, turning my fury on her. Then an idea came to me, and instantly the rage melted into complete and utter hatred. I smiled. "The old man." I looked her right in the eye, wanting to slap that patronizing expression off of her face. "Jake sent you here, didn't he? He wants to put me away for cutting in on his operation…"
"Actually, I'm here of my own volition," she continued, unperturbed. She pocketed her badge and walked her way inside my office and plopped down in my office chair.
"Hey!" I shouted in outrage. "That's my--!"
"I'll cut to the quick, Negaduck. I have a proposition for you."
I burst into laughter. She couldn't have been serious. Me, work with a dame? "Look lady, I have enough problems keeping track of my worthless compatriots – you think I want some brainless girl following me around? What could you possibly have to offer me, Negaduck – Lord of Crime?"
She only smirked and leaned forward.
"I have inside access to SHUSH weaponry and security…I could put you in control, and you could cripple the organization from within."
I had to admit, I liked where this was going. But I wouldn't be so easily persuaded.
"I can bring SHUSH to its knees without any help from the likes of you," I said nastily. "I've already done it once before."
"Ah, but you can't infiltrate it as Darkwing Duck again. The vigilante has to be fingerprinted and identified with a retinal scan before even he can enter. Besides…you're running out of time getting that machine working before Jake finds out where you're hiding it and steals it for himself."
"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "I had an easy enough time busting in a few days ago! Those saps didn't even see it coming!"
"That was a few days ago," she replied matter-of-factly. "They've upped security since then, thanks to you, and now they'll be more vigilant on crime, waiting for you to make your move."
"And you'd be willing to crush them from inside before they figure out what I'm up to, is that it?" I sneered, eyeing her through half-lidded, cunning eyes. "What's in it for you?"
People never did anything out of the goodness-of-their-hearts. Even so-called kindness was masked by selfish feelings. Kindness could bring feelings of admiration just as easily as deception and malevolence. Goodness was dead. Evil had won out a long time ago. I learned it the hard way. And now, thanks to me, the rest of the city would know it as well.
Now her expression shifted somehow, seeming twisted and dark in the light of my cheerless office. It was an expression I often bore myself, and I found that it suited her much more than her other face had.
"I want control of everything from Indigo Boulevard to King's Run."
"Ah, the upscale district," I mused. "Any particular reason?"
"None that concerns you. You just keep up your end and I'll hand you SHUSH on a silver platter."
As she and I spoke, the rest of the room's occupants had kept their heads bobbing back and forth between us, but now all eyes were on me. Everything went silent as I took my time considering her offer.
Then my trademark grin slithered across my bill beneath cold, ice blue eyes. I held her gaze evenly like a shark eyeing a waterlogged meal.
"All right, dollface. You've got your little section of the city…but only after SHUSH is no longer a threat."
She nodded once, then smirked coyly around the room before backing out of the door and taking her leave.
"I'll be in touch," she said over her shoulder as her footsteps faded down the distance staircase that led out of the building.
"I'm sure you will be," I said deridingly, eyes narrowing underneath the brim of my blood-red fedora.