Thank you for reading, and reviewing, and following this story! =D

Whoops - forgot to mention in the previous chapter that the Artemis-going-to-jail idea was originally Colfer's. *is very, very ashamed* Referenced from the August 2008 interview on AF Confidential; do go read it to find out more about the next book.

To the beta: May you *sparkle* always, my dear.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Except for the plot, o' 'cos.

Chapter 9: A Shoal of Questions

Atlantis maximum security penitentiary

'Name?' said the sprite, glaring unpleasantly at the Mud Boy before him. 'Family? Birth date and address, please.'

'Artemis Fowl. The second,' said the boy. 'Fowl family. September first – '

'I said, what family? Are you elf, pixie, or troll? Or a dwarf, possibly?' The sprite wrote something down on the screen of the register before him, wings quivering with undisguised impatience. 'Or are you a hybrid?'

Artemis glanced at the words the sprite had scribbled down. There was something that looked very much like 'subnormal intelligence' and 'waste of time' in upside-down Gnommish. How witty. And the sprite had spelled his name wrongly.

'It's F-O-W-L, Fowl,' said Artemis. 'I'm amazed that you haven't heard of me. And I am, as you are unable to deduce for yourself, a human. I am Irish, and humans do not have 'families' like fairies do.'

Holly administered a surreptitious kick to the back of his knee.

'I have the forms here,' she said, pushing Artemis aside and handing the digital tablet with the e-forms over to the sprite. 'Signatures from the Council – they've been rectified by Foaly and stamped with the official seal by Chairman Cahartez himself. All the details you need about the prisoner are in there.'

'You should've told me.' The sprite took the tablet and scrolled through the forms, lips pursed in a good imitation of The Grinch. 'You young officers think you can get away with anything these days. Back in my time, oh back in my time…'

The sprite paused and held up the tablet, jabbing a green finger at a particular sentence and smiling nastily. 'Right to fair trial denied until the Council votes on it.' The information seemed to give him some satisfaction for reasons nobody knew. 'Oh you're in deep, Fowl. We've had cases like you before. Usually hardened criminals or psychopaths. What did you do?'

'Can we get this done quickly?' said Captain Torpenhow of the Retrieval Three squad. 'My superior's ordering us to get back to Haven right now.'

The sprite gave him a long, heavy stare. 'I'm moving fast enough as it is.'

'Look, Lieutenant Shoal, get your superior here and sort this out quickly,' Holly said, slapping her hand down on the registration desk. 'We need to get back to Haven now, d'you hear me? We've got a situation there while you sit here on your well-padded behind.'

'Yeah yeah, patronize an old officer,' Shoal grumbled, shuffling out from behind the desk and heading down a corridor nearby. 'You young officers these days.'

'You didn't want me to be locked up a while ago,' Artemis said to Holly, sounding amused. 'How swift the tide does change.'

'Keep talking, Artemis, and I'll ask the Council to extend your term,' she muttered, keeping an eye on Captain Torpenhow as she spoke. The other captain was too busy replying his superior's calls to notice the conversation between Holly and the soon-to-be first human prisoner in Atlantis.

'I wonder if I'll meet our old friend in there,' mused Artemis. 'That should be interesting.'

'Opal Koboi? You two have fun in jail.' Holly glanced at the other officers before leaning in to whisper, 'I'd appreciate it if you tell me your plans, Artemis. I need to know what part I'll be playing in them.'

'You'll see, Captain,' he said, his expression unchanged. He gave her a wink and reached across with one recently freed hand to take the tablet Holly had passed to the sprite earlier. Holly made no move to stop him – his hands were free, but one step to freedom would have him pinned down and out cold by the Retrieval boys. Besides, Artemis wouldn't be that stupid to try escaping without help. The Atlantis penitentiary was anchored to the seabed to a depth of over five thousand metres.

She watched as he scrolled through the forms and returned the tablet without making any changes to them. She was about to ask him about it when the sprite shuffled back to them with his major in tow.

'Captain Short. Captain Torpenhow,' said the Atlantis major, nodding to each officer in turn. 'I'll take the prisoner to his cell right now.'

'Thank you, Major.' Holly gave Artemis a gentle push in the direction of the Atlantis major. 'Go on, Fowl. Have fun in there for the next hundred years.'

'I'll look forward to seeing you again, Captain Short.' Artemis gave her another wink and followed the Atlantis major down the main hallway to the entrance of the cells.

If he messes this up, she thought, trailing after the Retrieval Three squad to the shuttle waiting to take them back to Haven, I'll make sure he doesn't wink at me again. Permanently.

Haven City

'Since when did we become the LEP's lackeys?' grumbled Mulch as he sneaked through one of the many alleys of Haven.

Here he was, out on stakeout when he should be at the PI firm or at home, downing the last can of juice or the last pack of beetles before turning in for the night. But – oh no­ – Foaly had given a call and requested him to check up on Merrick's contacts and business associates…which Mulch had already done, soon after Holly came to see him about Merrick's murder, in fact. The thing was, he had found nothing – the gremlin had been pretty clean by Haven's standards during his lifetime, and the unknown vigilantes had all but disappeared without a trace. The LEP could be so dim sometimes.

'Day to Diggums,' said Doodah, from an undisclosed location several streets away. 'Anything yet?'

Mulch adjusted his earpiece for the umpteenth time and sighed; it kept tickling his ear and it was driving him crazy. He'd have to wheedle new ones from Foaly some time soon. 'Nothin', partner. You?'

'I've got some toys. Kids these days eh, chucking their stuff when it gets obsolete.' Mulch heard the sound of plastic hitting metal in the background. 'Nothing about Merrick, Diggums.'

'Want to call it a night?' Mulch suggested as he nipped down the next alley. 'Get some grub and close up for the day.'

'Sounds good to me.'

One more alley to go, then he would be out on the back street which ran behind the depot for Merrick's transport vehicles. He had passed this place three times in the past hour or so, looping back through the alleys, but the depot was silent, shut down since Merrick's death. The executor of the fairy's estate had decided to suspend the company's operations until the will and related legal matters had been dealt with. And the LEP had quietly interfered and asked all business transactions to be put on hold until more clues could be found to help in the investigation.

Here was something different. Mulch shrank back into the shadow of the poorly lit alley, watching as a lorry came to a stop at one of the depot's large entrances. The driver beeped the horn, signaling to someone within the depot. Then the shutter door began to rise.

Several goblins ducked beneath the half-raised shutter and headed to the lorry. The doors of the container were thrown open, and crates were passed out to the waiting goblins in the street. A few carried the crates into the depot, all the while talking in their hissing, reptilian voices.

The name painted on the side of the lorry was pretty obvious – Merrick Transportation, it declared in bright blue letters. But Mulch was too far away to discern the contents of the crates. He would have to sneak in closer for a better look…and within range of the goblins' fireballs too. The LEP would definitely be charged a stupendous amount for the consultation fees when the firm was done with this case.

Right, concentrate on the task at hand. That bin there – oh, a convenient shadow. And then the angle of the wall there…just a little closer…

'Hey, wazzat?' said a goblin, who was unluckily more observant and smarter than his fellow goblins. He dropped the crate he had been carrying and pointed to the strangely shaped shadow flattened against the wall across the street.

'What?' His friend turned, squinting at the patch of the wall the first goblin had indicated.

'That looks like a dwarf, that does,' said the first one. 'I hate dwarfs. Big bums.'

'Yeah,' his friend agreed, nodding. 'And they're all cheats.'

'Stupid too.'

'Hey, did I tell you about the stupid dwarf who tried to eat me in LEP Central? I'm still looking for the guy.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. And that one there looks just like him.'

Safe in the shadow (for now), Mulch grinned, remembering the good old days when he was still a convict. Well actually, he was still a convict at heart, but hey, he wasn't complaining if the LEP had stopped trying to arrest him for every teensy crime. The PI firm was a good front for hiding the smaller crimes he continued to dabble in these days. To keep his hand in the game, like he said to himself. And old habits died hard.

The first fireball missed his head by inches. Mulch rolled towards the bin nearby, hoping to get out sight before the goblins could follow up with more. No such luck.

The second whizzed past his face, singeing his beard in patches. D'Arvit.

'Hey, stupid dwarf,' someone hissed, right in his ear, 'we saw you first.' A hand gripped his shirt and hauled the dwarf to his feet. 'And you know what we really, really hate?'

'A dwarf?' said Mulch meekly.

'A sneaking, lying, cheating, stupid dwarf,' the goblin corrected, his breath leaking flames uncomfortably close to Mulch's face. 'I really, really hate dwarfs like this.'

'Really? Thanks.' Mulch ducked in time, avoiding the whoosh of flames from the goblin's nose. Ooo, close one.

'What're you doing here, stumpy?' It was the goblin who had first spotted him. 'Hey, I know you! You nearly took my head off once!'

'Best experience of your life,' Mulch laughed, elbowing the goblin in the ribs. He pushed past the others who had come up to join the fun, but they were too surprised to react.

Mulch ran towards the crates the goblins had left abandoned on the street, narrowly avoiding the fireballs the shouting goblins hurled at him. He had a pretty good idea of what was inside those crates, but he had to get a closer look, oh D'Arvit –

Mulch swerved at the last moment and leapt behind the lorry, just as a fireball arced over his head and fell straight into one of the crates. He crouched down with his arms over his head, waiting for the explosion.

Nothing happened.

The goblins were sniggering as they formed a semi-circle around him.

'Not so smart now, stupid?' said a particularly nasty-looking one. He kicked the dwarf, mostly out of pure spite than in self-defense. 'Ain't no LEP to save you here.'

'Put your hands up and turn around!' a voice squeaked. 'Do it now before I shoot!'

The goblins froze; a few held up their hands obediently.

'I said turn around!' It sounded like a child. Or a pixie on helium.

The goblins turned around, hands held above their heads. All except one, but Mulch leaned around him to get a look at his rescuer.

It was Doodah, a gun in his small hands. The pixie was clearly terrified – even his voice had gone several pitches higher into a register Mulch had not thought possible – but Doodah was standing his ground all the same. The goblins shuffled a bit, but it was doubtful whether they were thinking about how they could overpower the tiny pixie.

The one goblin who had not turned around shot Mulch a foul look, before kicking the dwarf right in the head.

Or he would have, if Mulch had not caught the foot and given it a 180° twist. Something broke.

Mulch pushed the goblin over, barged past the rest and headed straight for Doodah. The fireballs came a few seconds later, after the goblins' brains had kicked in and realized that the dwarf was getting away. Both dwarf and pixie dived into the next alley and didn't stop running until they emerged in Tara Road, drawing many curious stares from passersby.

'Where did you get that?' Mulch gasped as he slowed to a stop.

'This?' Doodah held up the gun and pressed the trigger several times. It emitted large coloured bubbles and a tinny pshew pshew noise. 'It's a Bubbleblaster. Found it just now, before I came to save you.'

'I've just been rescued by a pixie with a toy gun,' Mulch groaned. 'This had better not get out.'

'A thank you would be nice,' said Doodah huffily. 'It's better than being goblin kebab.'

'Point taken. Thank you. Just don't tell anyone.'

'But it was brave of me, wasn't it?' Doodah puffed out his chest proudly. 'Doodah Day: legendary smuggler, unbeatable private investigator and courageous rescuer of idiot dwarfs.'

'Shut up.'

'Jeez, lighten up, Diggums. So what did you find?'

'I'll tell you once we're back in the office. The goblins might be back.'

'Fine, fine. Want to get something first? Seaweed noodles?'

'Disgusting. Let's get fried squid.'

'And sushi.'

'And slug jelly and lemon beer.'

'Good idea.'

'Did you bring money?'

'D'Arvit.'

'Lucky for me, I brought some. We're getting deep fried pit slug.'

'I hate pit slug. Pixies can't take that disgusting stuff.'

'Too bad, Day. Get that gun out of my face, d'you hear me?'

'You suggested pit slug.'

'Fine. We'll get the sushi.'

'Thanks. You want a light sabre in case the goblins attack again? I have one spare.'

'Shut up.'

To quote the beta: "That was random." Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! :)