The office of Marty Thanatopsis was significantly lacking in glamour. It was in a rather impressive skyscraper, but was squeezed into a corner of the third floor, which it shared with an advertising agency and a market research firm. The tiny waiting room was somewhat shabby; the veneer was starting to peel off the furniture and the plants were both obviously plastic and somehow wilted looking. Behind the reception desk, a frazzled looking capybara was juggling calls on what seemed like a dozen different lines. From what Judy could overhear, the callers were mostly current clients, reporters, and potential clients whose interest had been piqued by the attempted murder of Holly Leaves. Despite the calls, however, the waiting room was completely empty. When the receptionist caught sight of Nick and Judy he appeared noticeably relieved, and quickly put his current call on hold. Apparently going solely off the fact that they were in uniform, he jammed a file into Nick's arms and quickly spoke before they had the chance to introduce themselves. "These are the copies you wanted and Mr. Thanatopsis isn't in so please leave if there's nothing else you want."
Judy opened and quickly shut her mouth, thrown off by the brusque behavior. "No, this is all we need," Nick replied, flipping open the folder and looking at the contents.
The capybara immediately took a call off hold and started speaking again, in a far more polite tone than the one he had used with them.
"Come on, Carrots," Nick said, "We can't be late for that press conference, can we?"
The press conference was set up in the exact same spot of the police station that the one Judy had spoken at months ago had been in. For this conference, however, the podium was significantly lower, and a number of chairs had been set up behind it stadium style in rising rows. A weasel that Judy assumed was the mayor's campaign manager or press secretary or whatever the proper term was had very simple instructions for her and Nick. "Sit there, don't say anything, and clap at the end."
Judy thought that they could manage that. Nick and her, as the shortest officers, were seated in the first row, and officers from other precincts–notably Grévy and LaMerk–filled the other seats. Unsurprisingly, the zebra made no attempt at small talk with Judy or Nick, pointedly engaging her partner in quiet conversation as they waited for the mayor to show and the camera crews to finish setting up. When Pablo Escurel arrived, the mayor looked pretty much the same as he appeared on TV. He was a short squirrel, and in his youth had probably been about the same shade of red-orange as Nick. Age had dulled his coat and filled it with gray flecks; his muzzle was almost entirely white.
Unfortunately, what the snippets on TV and the articles in the newspapers hadn't been able to convey was the true sense of just how boring he could be. Judy normally found it somewhat difficult to wait through something, and her tiredness from the morning was starting to catch up with her as the caffeine wore off. Add to it that Escurel's voice had a positively soporific effect and she was desperately trying to avoid fidgeting or yawning on television. She snuck a glance to her side at her partner to see how he was holding up. Nick's posture was ramrod straight and he had his paws on his thighs. Judy noticed that he had dug his claws into his legs and felt a brief stab of jealousy. Her own nails were far too dull to do that, and she had no doubt that the pain he was inflicting on himself was an effective way of staying awake. Judy resisted the urge to sigh, as throughout her observations Escurel had continued to drone on. After what felt like hours, the mayor finally wrapped up, "...So I am very pleased to announce this expansion of funding for new equipment and additional officers to allow our police to be more effective in fighting crime."
There was a brief moment of silence before everyone realized that he was actually done talking, and Judy clapped about as enthusiastically as he could. The mayor took no questions and quickly left, and Judy was eager to follow his lead.
Nick and Judy had been forced to park their car a few blocks from the residence listed for Holly Leaves's mother, Hyacinth Leaps. The bunny who answered the door of the modest brownstone was not Holly's mother–she was far too young for that–but she was definitely related. Judy doubted that anyone who wasn't a bunny would have spotted the similarities in the shape of their ears and noses, but to her the resemblance was obvious. The bunny before her was clearly Holly's sister, and it was just as clear which one was the more attractive of the two. Holly would have been beautiful even if she had shared the same drab brown coloration of her sister, but her albinism pushed her beauty into the exotic. Her sister was ugly only by comparison with her sister the actress; she was plain and tired-looking, a brown bunny with brown eyes, prominent buckteeth, and a figure that was significantly thicker and less curvy. "ZPD," Judy said, "Is this the residence of Hyacinth Leaps?"
The doe stared at Judy and Nick for a second before the question seemed to register. "Oh, yes," she said in a low voice not much above a whisper, "My mother and I live here. I'm Heather."
"Nice to meet you, Heather," Judy said, "I'm Judy Hopps and this is my partner Nick Wilde. Would it be alright if we come in and ask some questions about your sister?"
"Of course," Heather replied, just as quietly as the first time she spoke, but she made no motion to leave the doorway.
Heather's paws worked nervously. "Just, well, the thing is, uh, you'll have to wear these."
For a brief moment, the absurd thought popped into Judy's head that Heather wanted them to muzzle themselves, but she realized that the objects Heather was offering them were surgical masks. "My mother's very sick," Heather said apologetically, "The doctor says even a cold could, well, you know..."
Heather didn't need to finish the thought. "Of course," Nick said, grabbing one of the offered masks and donning it with an ease that was seemingly practiced.
Judy followed suit, putting on the proffered mask. Heather put on one of her own, and led them into the townhouse. "Her room's upstairs," Heather said, and led the way.
As Judy and Nick followed, Judy couldn't help but notice that the main living area they were in was a shrine to Holly. Actually, calling it a shrine was selling it significantly short. It was more like a temple, or perhaps a cathedral; seemingly every inch of the walls was covered in framed pictures or clippings from magazines and newspapers about Holly. The faded floral wallpaper was barely visible behind the assorted tributes, and a framed copy of TV Weekly displaying Holly and her wolf partner from Black and White prominently on the cover was positioned dead center on the mantle of the fireplace like an altar. Judy also couldn't help but notice that, while many of the pictures also had Holly's mother in them, there wasn't a single one that showed Heather or the deceased Mr. Leaps.
After a short climb up a narrow staircase (made narrower by a chairlift that ran along the wall) with a lintel so low that Nick had to duck to avoid hitting his head, Heather brought them into the master bedroom. The bunny lying in the bed was almost entirely unrecognizable from the pictures that Judy had seen downstairs and in the file that Clawhauser had put together. The bunny from the photos had been short and plump in the way typical for a doe after a few kits and years of motherhood, with well-coiffed brown fur and lively blue eyes. By contrast, the bunny in the bed had no fur whatsoever, which only emphasized the amount of weight she had lost. She was rail-thin, and her skin had an unhealthy yellowish tinge and seemed stretched over her bones. Her dull eyes were equally jaundiced and were sunk deep in her skull. The bedside table was almost completely covered with orange prescription pill bottles, and the air in the room had a nauseating combination of the smell of an astringent antiseptic and something like rotting garbage.
Judy only needed one look at Hyacinth Leaves to realize she had probably found the reason why the doe had stopped showing up in pictures of her daughter. Hyacinth looked like she was on death's doorstep, and certainly not in any shape to leave her townhouse without quite a bit of help. "Mom?" Heather asked softly, "There's two officers here to see you."
Hyacinth stirred and fixed Judy with a weak gaze. "You're Judy Hopps," she croaked.
It wasn't a question. "Yes I am, Mrs. Leaps. Now-"
"Leaves," Hyacinth interrupted grumpily, "I'm Hyacinth Leaves."
Judy made a mental note that Hyacinth was using the same last name that her daughter had adopted as part of her public persona, which only fed into her theory that Hyacinth had been an overbearing stage mother when she had been well enough to do so. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Leaves. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Holly."
Mrs. Leaves brightened somewhat at that. "She's really something, isn't she? I always knew she'd be a star, didn't I Heather?"
"Yes, Mom," Heather replied.
"And I'm the one who made it happen, no matter what Mr. Thanatopsis says. He's lucky I chose him. Why–"
Judy had the feeling that this was a topic that Hyacinth Leaves could, and probably would, discuss endlessly given half a chance, so she quickly jumped in.
"Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt her?"
Hyacinth sniffed. "Of course I do," she said, and Judy briefly allowed herself to get her hopes up.
"It's that awful bunny she's been dating. He's not good for her, you know. That Jacques has the most terrible little friends he pals around with, isn't that right Heather?"
"Yes, Mom," Heather replied mechanically.
"You wouldn't believe the kind of clients he has! And he's so rude! With that ridiculous name, too–what kind of self-respecting bunny calls himself Jacked Rabbit, hm?"
Mrs. Leaves was working herself into a frenzy, but her rant was cut short when she started coughing. It sounded horrible, both wet and raspy. "You've got to take it easy, Mom," Heather said, handing her mother a tissue and sounding more firm than she had at any previous point, "Remember what the doctor said?"
Hyacinth waved irritably, "Fine, fine. But mark my words: you dig into that bunny's past and you're going to find something. I guarantee it."
With that, she sunk back into her bed, her energy seemingly tapped. It also allowed Judy to catch a glimpse of the lone framed picture on the bedside table that was otherwise covered with pill bottles. It looked like a studio family portrait, with five bunnies stiffly posed in front of a gradient that approximately replicated the sky. One of the bunnies was a young buck who was presumably Mr. Leaves. Three of them were recognizably Hyacinth, Heather, and Holly, although they were significantly younger. Heather and Holly didn't look like either could be older than five or six, placing the photo a good twenty or so years in the past. The last rabbit was another kit, who looked somewhat older than his siblings and significantly displeased with the fancy clothes he was wearing.
"I think we should stop here," Heather said gently but firmly.
"Absolutely," said Judy, "And we do intend to look into Jacques's past."
Heather led Nick and Judy down the stairs and out onto the front steps of the townhouse. "I'm really sorry about that," Heather said, sounding embarrassed, "But she's never liked Jacques, even though he's never been anything but sweet."
"We're not ruling anything out yet," Judy said, "But could you think of anyone who might want to hurt your sister?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Heather said, "She was always so popular. Everyone really did love her."
"Do you see her or your brother very often?" Judy asked.
She was fairly confident that the third kit in the photo on Mrs. Leaves's bedside table was the brother of Heather and Holly, and Heather's answer confirmed it. "Hyperion?" Heather asked, seeming surprised at the question, "I haven't seen him since he was eighteen. I see Holly at least once a week. She's been awfully busy ever since she started filming Black and White, but she still makes the time."
"What happened when your brother was eighteen?" Judy asked, her notebook at the ready.
Heather shrugged, "He just left, that's all. He said he wanted to take his own path."
Judy was deeply skeptical of this being precisely true. It was very easy to imagine that Heather and Hyperion had been marginalized by their mother, who seemed to focus all of her attention on her daughter Holly. She could just as easily imagine a strong-willed buck getting tired of the treatment and leaving rather than choosing to go it alone for no particular reason, just like she could imagine the ignored daughter resenting her popular sister. Of course, that opened up another line of questioning.
"Are you your mother's sole caretaker?" Judy asked.
Heather nodded. "I quit my job to take care of her. She's got so many appointments, you know. I had to take her in for her dialysis last night, and her chemo is this afternoon."
Judy figured that Heather knew where she was going with her questions and was preemptively providing an alibi before Judy could directly ask. "Could I have the names of her doctors and where she goes for treatment?"
"Sure, hold on," Heather said, and fumbled through her overlarge purse.
She pulled out an index card that had the names of doctors and clinics on the front and medication names and dosages on the back. "I keep a few copies of this, just in case," Heather said, "So you can have this one."
"This is good planning," Judy said, looking at the card admiringly.
Heather smiled for the first time. "I'm a nurse," she said simply, "That's all."
"Well, that was some pretty productive police work, wouldn't you say?" Judy asked Nick as they walked back to their squad car, "And I know they're bunnies but you didn't have to let me do all the talking..."
Judy trailed off as she realized that Nick had been abnormally quiet from the time they had entered the townhouse. Looking at him now, he seemed unusually down. His ears and tail were drooping, and he had a faraway look on his face. "Nick, what's wrong?"
With perceptible effort, he stood up straighter and his normal, easy half-grin slid onto his face. "It's nothing, Carrots. Just figured I'd let you take care of the bunnies," he said, flipping the legs of his sunglasses out and putting them on.
Judy was not fooled. Even hiding his eyes couldn't conceal from her that he was wearing his normal expression like a mask. "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to talk about it," she said gently, "But don't lie to me."
Nick sighed, and Judy could briefly see a flicker of the pain on his face before he brought it back under control. "It's just... that smell. I could smell it from the instant we walked in."
Judy stayed silent, figuring that he would continue. Eventually he did, his words blandly steady. "It's the same way my dad smelled, at the end. Pancreatic cancer, you know. It was like he rotted from the inside out."
It was the first time that Judy could remember Nick saying anything about his father. "His fur all fell out too," Nick continued, leaning against the cruiser in a horrible imitation of casualness, "He looked almost exactly like she does now. That's funny, isn't it? Cancer, the great equalizer."
His bitter chuckle had no humor in it, and Judy felt her heart open to him again. Without really even thinking about what she was doing, Judy walked over and squeezed him into a hug. He went quickly rigid at first, but then folded his arms around her and squeezed back. They stood there for a long minute before Nick disengaged. "Why, Officer Hopps, what was that for?" he asked, his voice thick but with some of its usual teasing note.
"You sounded like you needed it," Judy said, trying to hold back tears of her own.
"Thanks," Nick said, his voice still thick.
He cleared his throat, "Come on, we have work to do."