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The Fire Triangle

Part Two:

Oxidizer

Chapter 1—A Rock and a Hard Place
(Continued…Part 2)

If Fru-Fru's revelations so far had been only surprising, the one she had waiting around the corner was a nuclear bombshell…but Judy wouldn't find that out for another minute or two. Leaning forward in her chair, she peered at the little arctic shrew as though she might—or might not—have actually been there.

"Hang on; you got your engagement ring at Rafaj Brothers Jewelers?"

Fru's snout turned upwards like a miniature elephant's trunk, a sign of irritation in a shrew.

"Not ME...Tad bought it." Tad was Tad Dennison, her husband. But forget about that; now it was Judy's turn to be annoyed.

"Oh get off it, Fru. You know that's not what I mean; why on earth would anyone even close to your family go shopping for a diamond in Sahara Square?"

What she meant was this: Fru's fiancé had taken an incredible risk, showing his face in the Red Pig's territory. Had he been a made member of the Tundratown syndicate, he'd have been safe enough; the rules of La Cosa Nostra strictly forbade the kidnapping of 'a friend of ours'. And that also applied to a made member's immediate family—including relatives by marriage. Tad, however, had been neither of those things, at least not then. A water-shrew, originally from the Canal District, he worked as a design engineer for Lukkrasiv Aviation, an aircraft company based in Savanna Central. He was 'strictly legit' as they say in the mob.

That, in fact, had been the one condition Mr. Big had placed on his daughter's choice of husband. "You may marry whoever you wish, dearest one," He had said to her, "as long as they're not in 'the life.' That's the one thing I will not allow."

"As IF I'd marry a wiseguy," Fru-Fru had laughed, after repeating the story to Judy over coffee and sfogliatelle. In the end, it had become a moot point anyway; she had ended up falling for a shrew who wasn't even a mob associate, much less a made mammal. All well and good…except when it came to going shopping for an engagement-ring in Sahara Square. Because Tad was a civilian—and not yet engaged to Mr. Big's daughter—the minute he'd set foot in Zootopia's desert enclave, he'd been fair game for a ransom-grab. That had been the reason for the doe-bunny's question—but Fru apparently thought she'd meant something else.

"Hey, he didn't know the Red Pig owned a piece of that place." She was folding her arms defensively.

Judy felt her arms gripping the side of her chair—as if it were an ejection seat about to catapult her straight through the ceiling. Wait…WHAT? Rocco Peccari had been a partner in that jewelry store? Sweet cheez' n crackers, no wonder those jackals had been so reluctant to cooperate… "Heyyy, hang on a second. If that's true, then….?"

Before she could ask the question, Fru had already beaten her to the draw.

"Hold it, Judy. I know what you're thinking… but no, the Rafaj brothers were running those blood-diamonds behind the Red Pig's back. He had no idea, the big jamook. " A brief smirk flashed across her muzzle and then hardened into a sneer. "But you better believe he knows NOW; when those two jackals hit the street again, I wouldn't wanna be in their fur."

"Neither would I," Judy silently agreed, sitting back in her chair and trying to process what she'd just heard. What the heck? Did those brothers have a death wish or something? Well, one thing was for certain. Whatever lingering doubts she'd had about coming here, they had just gone straight out the window. This…was HUGE. When Chief Bogo heard about it, it was going to blow him straight through the back wall of his office. Fru-Fru had just let slip an incredibly vital piece of information.

Only…had she really done it by mistake? Passing information to the cops, 'accidentally-on-purpose,' was another cherished mob tradition. And if the Red Pig really hadn't known that the Rafaj brothers were dealing in conflict diamonds, it wasn't snitching anyway, at least not technically.

Judy folded her paws and leaned forward in her chair.

"Fru, I think you know this only brings up more questions."

"Yeah, I know." the little arctic shrew sighed, sagging in her seat like a defeated candidate, "I can't promise to answer all of 'em, but I'll tell you what I can."

"Fair enough," the doe-bunny nodded her understanding and then decided that what had worked before might be worth a repeat. "Maybe the best thing would be for you to just fill me in on what happened from the beginning."

"Yeah," Fru-Fru sighed again and then pursed her lips into a look of disgust, beating a tattoo on her knee with a paw. The next words she spoke came straight out of left field. "Ahhhh, I just HADDA go and look at that news story."

"Huh?"

Fru and her fiancé had been browsing the web, looking for a place to take their honeymoon. (Tad had not yet proposed, but both of them knew it was coming.) While checking out Spain as a possible destination, something else had caught the little arctic shrew's eye, a news item with the headline, "French, Spanish police bust thieves of rare 'purple' diamond."

Curious, Fru-Fru had clicked on the article…and there, before her eyes had been the most exquisite gemstone she'd ever seen.

"That thing was such a deep purple...if I hadn't known better, I would have swore it was an amethyst; except there was never no amethyst that beautiful. I saw it and I said to Tad, y'know, just off the top of my head, 'Whoa, I wish I could have a wedding diamond like that.'" Repeating the words for Judy, she now seemed to wish that she'd bitten off her tongue instead.

A week later, when Tad had finally popped the question…

"I couldn't find a purple diamond, sweetheart…but I think I got the next best thing."

When he'd opened the box and shown her the ring, Fru had squealed with joy and thrown her arms around him, smothering him with kisses.

"So, uh…I guess that means you like it?" Tad had asked her.

And Fru had said, "Shaddup and kiss me back, already."

He had wisely complied with the order.

"That was that happiest day of my life up until then," Fru-Fru sniffed, beginning to get teary-eyed again, "but little could I have known…."

When she'd gotten pregnant the first time, she'd had it relatively easy, only a very brief bout of morning sickness and minimal moodiness. Not so the second time around; even before the test confirmed she was expecting, Fru's emotions had jumped on a runaway see-saw and her ankles had ballooned up to twice their normal girth.

So had her fingers…

"My engagement ring started to hurt so bad, I couldn't get to sleep at night...and then I couldn't get the darn thing to come off. When my finger started to go numb, I told Tad he'd have to take me back to the shop where he got it and get them to take it off and fix it."

"Not the ER?" Judy was lifting an ear and an eyebrow.

Fru 's brow went up even higher than hers. "Are you kiddin'? Those ER docs are butchers when it comes to gettin' rings offa fingers; they'd of wrecked it, and no thanks, Ralph!" She glared defiantly for half a second, before her expression dissolved into embarrassment. "That's what I thought at the time," she whimpered, shaking her head remorsefully. "But if I'd known then, what I know now…"

The first piece of unpleasant news had come when Tad had revealed exactly where he'd purchased her engagement ring. When Fru had heard, she'd practically had a conniption. "You bought it in SAHARA SQUARE! You stupid mortadella, you're lucky you didn't get snatched; you know who controls that district? I'll chop my stinkin' ring-finger OFF before I'll let you take me to that place!" She'd held up her paw, waving it in his snout. "You listen to me Tad Dennison; you're gonna find somewhere else to get this taken care of and you're gonna find it right now!"

And to prove that she meant business, she had kicked him out of their bedroom until he did. Two days later, he'd come almost crawling back to her with the news; there was a jeweler in Little Rodentia that could do the job.

Ever the attentive husband, Tad had insisted upon accompanying her to the shop; a seedy little place in the district's low-rent neighborhood, with a name that could hardly have been less appropriate, Upscale's Fine Rodent Jewelry.

"I swear Judy, that's the joint I would of thought was selling blood diamonds." Fru-Fru sniffed. "What a hole…and I mean literally, the place was nothing but some hollowed out bricks stuck together."

Sleazy outfit or not, it had taken the Upscale hamsters all of two minutes to get Fru's ring off—and less than fifteen minutes more to get it resized to a perfect fit. All the while, they'd been gushing over the exquisite work and asking her where she'd gotten it.

"Of course, I didn't tell 'em." Fru said, raising her chin defiantly, and showing her Cosa Nostra roots once more. But then her gaze dropped down to the desktop again, and her voice faded to a near mumble. "But maybe I shoulda…"

When she'd left the jewelry shop with her husband, Fru-Fru had thought her engagement-ring issues were over. In fact, they were just beginning. A week later, she and Tad had met for an al fresco lunch at their favorite downtown spot, Café Voré. They had just finished eating when a shadow fell over their table. Looking up, they'd seen a Sun Bear in a dark suit holding a badge above their heads. Judy recognized the description almost at once; Detective Lieutenant Charles Saw, Deputy Chief of the ZPD Organized Crime unit. With him had been a trio of uniformed officers, all of them larger species, standing in a rough circle around the arctic shrews' table.

"Tad Dennison, Fru-Fru Grandi Dennison," the bear had intoned solemnly, "You're under arrest. Get up from the table please, and keep your paws where we can see them."

Pushing his chair back and standing up as instructed, Tad had stared up incredulously at the detective. Fru however, had found it somewhat more difficult to comply.

"My pregnancy was starting to hit me hard by then, Judy. I was getting morning sickness at like all hours of the day, and with zero warning. So when I got up outta my chair, my lunch came up with me—all over the stinkin' table."

Seeing his wife in distress, Tad had attempted to go to her…only to find his path blocked by the sun bear's paw. "Stay where you are, please."

That had been enough to get Fru-Fru's blood up. "Lissen Cole Slaw," she'd said, addressing the Lieutenant by his derisive underworld nickname, "you know who my father is?"

"Yes, I know who he is," the bear had responded tonelessly before flashing a quick, toothy smirk. "Now ask me if I care."

"Mind telling us at least what we're being arrested for?" Tad had demanded, also beginning to lose his patience.

"For illegal possession of a blood diamond," Saw had informed him curtly. He had then motioned to one of the uniforms who had stepped forward, placing a rodent cage on the ground. "All right, inside," he'd growled, motioning with a paw.

"I was playing the tough girl, Judy," Fru grabbed for another mealworm, dunked it fast and swallowed it whole, "A real gangster's moll. You know; 'We didn't do nothin','we'll be out before dinner,' 'Vern Rodenberg's gonna clip your claws for this, pal.' Tad kept telling me to please be quiet, but I was too mad to listen—coz I knew something. If I hadn't been Big Shrew's daughter, the ZPD would never of rousted me over something that petty …much less sent Cole Slaw to do the job. Stinkin' coppers; possono andare tutti a Napole!"

"Uhhhh, Fru…" Judy grimaced and looked sideways for a second.

So did her host—who had managed to get herself so worked up, she'd forgotten she was talking to a police officer.

"Ooooo, sor-reeee," the words came out as a squeaky groan, delivered through clenched teeth.

"It's okay, Fru," the doe bunny assured her—although she was anything but certain that it WAS okay. Like it or not, the little arctic shrew had just opened a breach between them; a narrow gap, but a gap nonetheless. Judy was a cop and the animal sitting opposite her was the daughter of a crime boss… and there was no getting around that fact—or that someday, it might drive them apart for good.

For a long, heavy moment, an awkward silence filled the room, finally broken when Fru cleared her throat.

"G'humm….l-like I said Judy, I was playing the stand-up shrew; but the truth is, I was scared, really scared. That was the first time in my life I'd ever taken a pinch. I had no idea what was happening; and what about Tad? Sweet Mother of Mercy, I'd DIE if he ever became a Guest of the State!"

"Fru," Judy reached up to pat the desktop, and this time the assurance in her voice wasn't forced. "You and Tad weren't going to jail; that case was weak to begin with." She felt no guilt in saying this. By now, Fru-Fru almost certainly knew it for herself.

Yep.

"Actually, they had practically NO case, Judy. Back when Tad bought me that ring, it wasn't illegal to own a lavender diamond, only to sell them. The law saying you couldn't have one at all didn't pass until less than a year ago; I found that out when Mr. Rodenberg came to see me. Anyway, finally they let us go, no charges filed." She pointed to the box on the desktop again, "They even had to give me back my ring." Her mouth bowed into a deep frown and she waved a paw like a grandee dismissing a peasant. "'Course, I refused to wear it after that and Tad hadda get me a new one."

Then why did she still even have it? Judy had to wonder, but kept the question to herself; there were more important matters afoot. 'No charges filed' should have been the end of the engagement ring saga—but she already knew that wasn't the case.

Meanwhile Fru-Fru was still talking.

"But before then Judy, I was so scared. No offense, but like I said before. I knew the cops had only busted me to get to my father…and that they'd do anything to nail him—like when they tried to get Nick to flip on him."

Okay, that made Judy's ears lay back. Friend or no friend, this time Fru had gone too far.

"That was the DA Office's idea, not the ZPD." she said, straightening up and folding her arms indignantly, "and that agency doesn't even exist anymore; it's been replaced by the Attorney General's Office."

Fru-Fru cocked her head in surprise.

"Whoa, you know about that?"

"D'ohhhhh, DUMB bunny!" Judy could have kicked herself right out the window. If Fru was able to play her so easily, what was going to happen when her FATHER got here?

She leaned forward in her chair, clutching the arms for emphasis. "Yes, and I don't want to talk about it—or him—all right?"

"Sorry, sorry," Fru had thrown up her paws in surrender. "Sorry, that was the hormones talking…just like they did back when I got pinched; even now I still get the shivers when I think of it."

"Okay," Judy nodded, quietly deciding to let it slide. "So, what happened next?"

Fru-Fru gave her a tilted look.

"YOU happened, Judy."

The doe-bunny's ears jumped straight to attention. "What...me?"

"That's right," Fru was regarding her intently. Had she been a large predator, Judy might even have feared for her safety. "When you and Nick ran that diamond sting on the jackals, remember?"

"Oh, right," Judy answered uneasily, wanting to kick herself again. Dangit, how could she have forgotten about that? Whoa, wasn't she just hitting 'em out of the park—hey, wait just a carrot-pickin' minute! "Hold it, hold it; help me out here, Fru." She had raised her paws as if on traffic duty. "How is that related to anything else you told me?"

"Oh, it's related, Judy, it's related," Fru's anger was rising again. "It's been 'related' ever since the Red Pig accused Tad of being a snitch; saying MY husband gave up the jackals to the cops!"

"He…did…WHAT?" Just when Judy thought it couldn't get any crazier, "but that's nuts, Fru. Even if Tad was our informant…"

"He wasn't!" the arctic shrew snapped showing her teeth again.

Judy stopped, inhaled slowly through her nostrils and tried again.

"Okay, yes…but correct me if I'm wrong. Even assuming Tad did make the call on the Rafaj brothers, he's still just a regular guy; the law of Omerta doesn't apply to him. Am I right?"

"Yeah, exactly," Fru answered with a tight-lipped nod

"That's what I thought," the doe-bunny nodded back. "And, in any case, he had no idea that the Rafaj brothers were in bed with the Red Pig. Even I know it's not breaking the Rule of Silence to inform on an independent operator."

Fru-Fru spread her paws in exasperation. "I know right? Tell the Red Pig, not me!"

Judy strongly suspected the Sahara Square mob boss had already been told just that—and probably several times. She leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples with her fingers. "Okay, give me a second; I need to think about this."

"Yeah, sure," Fru answered, and the room fell into silence once again as Judy closed her eyes and mulled the little arctic shrew's revelations.

In La Cosa Nostra, the worst offense a wiseguy can commit is to become a snitch; the second worst is to falsely accuse another wiseguy of being a snitch. Knowing this, Judy could easily understand why the Tundratown and Sahara Square mobs were gearing up for war.

Except, as the doe-bunny had just pointed out, Fru's husband wasn't a 'friend of ours'—so why on earth would the Red Pig have made such an accusation? Well-l-l-l, Rocco Peccari WAS noted for honoring mob protocol mostly in the breach; it stood to reason that an animal like him would be just as capable of twisting it to his own ends. Yes, maybe...but to WHAT ends? Think, Judy, think…try to think like HE would.

She opened her eyes and looked at Fru again.

"Okay, do you have any idea why the Red Pig really accused Tad of being an informer? I just can't see him saying a thing like that unless there was something in it for him."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," the arctic shrew nodded, "But I got no clue as to what it could be. Maybe Daddy will be able to tell you when he gets here." Without warning, her gaze once more intensified. "But there's one thing I've gotta know …and please tell me the truth. Do you have any idea on who actually dropped the dime on those jackals?"

"No," Judy met the shrew's gaze with a firm voice and an unwavering eye, "No, I don't, Fru-Fru. The ZPD only gives out that kind of information on a need-to-know basis…and I didn't need to know that. As a matter of fact it was better that way. If you don't know who your informer is, you can't accidentally give him away to your suspect. Believe me, that's the last thing you want when you're running an undercover sting."

"Yeah, yeah…I didn't think you knew, but I had to ask, okay?" Fru had raised her paws again. "For Tad," she added, as if that made everything alright.

It didn't; for the first time since they'd met, Judy had gotten the impression that the little arctic shrew was trying to lean on her. What would Fru-Fru have said to her if she had known who the informer was—and refused talk about it? Would she then have…brought up Duke Weaselton? Fru was well aware of that incident; she had been right there in the room when her father had 'persuaded' the Dukester to talk…at the behest of one Judy Hopps and her partner. Would her friend really have threatened to…?

Someone rapped on the door and Raymond ducked his way through without waiting.

"Your father has returned home," he said, speaking to Fru-Fru and ignoring Judy as if she wasn't there, "He will see you shortly and wants you to wait for him."

"I-I'll be here," the little shrew answered, looking ready to skitter into the nearest hiding place.

"Da, good," the bear nodded, and started to turn away.

"Hang on, wait a second." Judy was standing up in her chair and raising a paw, "Can you tell him I'm here, too. I don't want him to walk in and be surprised."

Raymond glanced over a shoulder with a cold eye. "He already knows this," and exited the room without another word.

And once again Mr. Big's private sanctum fell silent as the bunny and shrew settled in to wait for her father.

Judy expected a long delay; making visitors feel small by keeping them in limbo was another time-honored mob tradition—especially if that visitor was someone you didn't particularly WANT to see.

Not this time; less than half minute after Raymond's departure, she heard the thump of heavy footsteps in the hallway outside, followed by a sense of the floor vibrating. That could only mean one thing; Koslov was approaching…and that could only mean Mr. Big would be here in short order.

When the door opened, the first animals to enter the office were Raymond and the Siberian tiger Judy had seen minding the gate, followed by the wolf who had greeted her at the front door. It was only after they had formed a protective cordon around Mr. Big's desk that the bulky form of his chief bodyguard came squeezing in through the doorway, so massive that he appeared to be exiting from a clown-car. Stumping over to his usual place behind the desk, he laid his paws on the desktop and opened them, revealing a tiny swivel chair with the back turned towards his guest.

That was something he always did, and Judy had only recently learned the reason why; the back of Mr. Big's chair was bullet-proof—and a reminder to the doe-bunny that the life of a mob-boss is one of constant peril, even without the hovering threat of a gang-war.

When Koslov turned the chair around, Judy found herself facing a much differently dressed shrew than the one she'd first encountered in this office more than two years previously. This time Mr. Big looked like a charter member of the country-club set; a coffee-brown suit-jacket, with tan-slacks and a matching kerchief; his throat encircled by a silk cravat. His head-fur, which he normally wore plumped into a pyramid had been slicked back into a facsimile of 1950's ducktail. The only thing missing was a fancy crest, stitched beneath his coat's left-side breast pocket.

The expression on his face however, was exactly as Judy remembered from their initial meeting, a curious blend of sorrow and contempt. And as before, he spoke his first words as if she wasn't even in the room.

"My child, how can you have done this?" He said, turning his chair in Fru-Fru's direction, "Bringing the cops into my home at such a time?" He spread his paws like a saint about to be martyred, rolling his eyes upwards at the ceiling. (So did Koslov, Judy noted.) "That a shrew should live to suffer such disrespect from his own daughter."

It was enough to make Judy Hopps want to roll her eyes. Holy carrot-sticks! THAT was a performance worthy of a high-school drama queen. Except Mr. Big had been entirely serious and if she knew what was good for her, she had better take it as such. In other words, shut up and let Fru answer him.

"Daddy, please!" the little shrew pleaded, cracking voice and clasped paws, "I'm sorry, but I had to do it. You CAN'T go to war with the Red Pig right now. Please, papa…think of little Judy, think of little Tony." She was clutching her belly and starting to cry again, "Don't…do…this—please."

Mr. Big's response to this was something Judy had never seen before and never would have expected to see. His eyes slammed shut and he swiftly doubled over, as if he'd taken a sucker-punch to the gut. When he raised his face again, his cheeks were streaked with tears. Pulling out a kerchief, he wiped his muzzle with one paw while motioning to Koslov with the other. At once the hulking polar bear slid him closer to his daughter.

"Dearest child, Daddy has no choice." He sniffled, taking her paws and squeezing them. "Last night, in this very room, the Red Pig's Consigliere insulted me beyond the limits of what any Mammal of Honor can be expected to endure." Fru-Fru tried to answer this, but he had already placed a finger against her snout. "And even if he hadn't, the decision no longer rests with me. The next move is Peccari's; the last business to burn was one of his, not one of mine."

There…there it was; Judy saw her opening and she went for it.

"Except YOU didn't do it, Mr…I mean Don Grandi."

At once, every face in the room turned in her direction…but none, thank goodness, wearing hostile expressions; only looks of pure astonishment.

She hurriedly went on. "Fru-Fru already told me you didn't order that fire...OR the one at IRS Recycling—and I believe her."

Mr. Big spent the next couple of seconds studying his guest, before his mouth and his eyebrows turned bitterly downwards.

"I'm glad you believe it," he hissed, waving angrily at nothing, "because the Red Pig absolutely refuses to accept my word of innocence." He pointed at the bear on Judy's left. "Last night, his enforcer, The Painter, swore to me that Raymond there was one of the bears that put the torch to his brother-in-law's flower shop." At this, the polar bear began to tug unhappily at his collar. Seeing him, the Big Shrew flapped a paw in his direction. "Relax paisan, I know you it wasn't you." And to Judy and Fru he said, "That's where I was just now, checking his alibi. I think you can guess what I found."

Judy started to lean forward, but stopped herself, sensing he wasn't finished.

"For all the good it will do me!" he squeaked, thumping his fists on the arms of his chair. "Peccari is absolutely convinced that I gave the order to burn down that flower shop. Even his Consiglier, Joe 'The Shadow' refuses to believe I didn't do it…and he's supposed to be the sensible one in that family!"

He stopped and Judy realized that she was once more under the microscope. But that was okay; this time she was ready. (She'd been ready ever since exiting the limousine.) Still, she'd have to watch her presentation.

"Don Grandi, I would never want to insult your intelligence, but I have to point out something. If you didn't burn down either one of the Red Pig's properties, then maybe he didn't burn yours down either."

To her considerable surprise, the reply to her suggestion came not from Mr. Big but from the enormous polar-bear standing behind him.

"Da, we have considered this…but if was not Red Pig set those fires, who was it, then?" He was lifting his paws in confusion.

Judy blinked and stared for a second. A response like that from Koslov was like a two-hour speech from anyone else. Heck, she couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken more than six words in her presence. Deciding quickly, she directed her answer to Mr. Big rather than him.

"Don Grandi, a mammal in your position must have made more than one enemy over the years…and is it not possible that one of them is also an enemy of the Red Pig?"

"There, that was pretty good," she thought—until she noticed that Fru's face was pinched up in a pained expression. Uh, ohhh…

"Yes…but no." Mr. Big had lifted a pair of fingers and was speaking in the scholarly tone of a professor lecturing a pupil. "If a third party wanted to set the Red Pig and myself against each other, he would need to possess a lot more than just simple hatred. It would also require him to have an extreme measure of both ruthlessness and cunning, to say nothing of blood as cold as the Icy Lake." His look became almost contemplative, "Let us suppose, for a moment, that someone were to attempt this scheme and either the Red Pig or myself caught on to it, what do you think would happen?" Judy said nothing, it was a rhetorical question and she knew it. Sure enough, "there are animals out there that might be willing to risk my anger—or that of Peccari—but never both of us at once. In fact," He swirled a paw in the air, "I have known only one individual in my life who possessed that combination of animosity, ingenuity, and audacity—and he's been dead for three years now."

Behind him, Judy saw Koslov's face turn mournful, and watched him raising his fingers to cross himself. Mr. Big noticed it too, and looked up sharply over his shoulder.

"Stop…we do not mourn that animal in this house."

Ooooo…that did it; Judy knew she shouldn't get sidetracked, but…

"Wh-Who are you talking about?"

It was Koslov who answered her.

"McCrodon…'The Mister' James McCrodon, big arms dealer from Zoo York City. You have heard of him, da?"

"I know the name," Judy admitted nodding. A part of her was practically screaming that she needed to move the heck away from this topic and right NOW. And yet…her gut was telling her to stay the course. And so, in the end, she decided to go with her instincts. "What was his problem with you and Mr. Peccari?"

This time, the response came from Mr. Big himself.

"Some years ago, when McCrodon was under indictment by the State of Zoo York and facing a sentence of 25-to-life, he decided to go on the lam." He pointed at the floor, in front of his desk. "I mean here, in Zootopia. In preparation for his escape, he sent one of his brothers to me, offering a million bucks, if I would provide him with sanctuary."

Judy felt an eyebrow cocking upwards and a corner of her mouth with it.

"I take it you told him, thanks but no thanks?"

The arctic shrew's expression became a mirror of her own.

"No amount of money in the world was worth that kind of potential trouble." he said, raising another finger to emphasize the point. "Besides, while I respected The Mister and perhaps even liked him a little, I never, ever trusted him. Letting THAT sea mink inside your territory was like inviting a vampire to spend the night…and so I politely told him 'no'."

"So…let me guess," the doe bunny responded, pulling speculatively at her chin. "He went to the Red Pig next...and got the same answer; am I right?"

The arctic shrew's face crinkled wryly.

"Not quite; when his brother Gerry came to me, he had already been to see Rocco Peccari. But yes, his answer was the same as mine, 'Sorry but I cannot help you.'"

"Uh-huh…and how did he take it?"

Mr. Big rubbed his snout with a finger. "Surprisingly well…or that was what I thought at the time. Gerry even kissed my ring before he left. Of course," he cautioned, the tip of his snout canting upwards, "that was only The Mister's brother, not the Mister himself."

"Okayyy," Judy's nose moved back and forth, as she tried to remember. "But if I recall correctly, didn't The Mister end up beating that case?"

"Yes, he did," the arctic shrew was nodding deeply, "with the help of a Mr. Vernon J. Rodenberg, Attorney at Law." He looked sideways for a second, his mouth stretching into a long scowl. "And THAT is what ultimately set him against the Red Pig and me."

"Huh—how?" Judy was leaning forward and cupping her face in her paws, as if she was listening to a campfire tale. Distraction or not, this was just too good to miss.

Mr. Big's response to this was something else she'd never have expected from him. Turning his gaze upwards, and studying a corner of the ceiling, he drummed his fingers unhappily on the arm of his chair.

"After his acquittal, I…g'hmmm, sent him a note of congratulations in which I…g'heh, claimed to have been the one that had sent Vern Rodenberg to defend him. I uh...hadn't; the rat made the trip on his own initiative. But what I didn't know was that…g'hmmm, The Red Pig has also sent The Mister a message of congrats, saying HE'D been the one who'd asked Rodenberg to represent him." Finally looking in the doe-bunny's direction, he added glumly. "Just my fortuna, both messages happened to arrive at nearly the exact same time."

"I see," Judy said, biting her lip and wishing she had a tail...so she could step on it, to keep from laughing. (Fru had one, but it wasn't helping, she was practically rolling out of her chair.)

"Needless to say this did not go down well with The Mister," Mr. Big was saying, shifting an annoyed glance between his guest and his daughter, "although I didn't know it at the time. About a week later, when Kevin came in to tell me he had James McCrodon on hold, I thought he was calling to thank me. Instead, the first thing I heard when I picked up was…" he stopped abruptly, looking once more at Fru, "Words I will not repeat in front of my daughter…but the next thing he said was, 'You two-faced little jerk, you think you can refuse to help me and then try to CON me? Dirty little punk, I swear by all the saints…if it takes me the next twenny stinkin' lifetimes, I'll bury you for this—you AND stinkin' Porky Peccari. Youse hear me, pipsqueak? I'll throw yers in a hole so deep, they'll have to dig you up on the other side o' the world!"

A second ago, Judy had been amused; now she was aghast.

"He threatened to go after both of you at once? He must have been out of his mind."

"He was," the arctic-shrew shrugged, "Or he was towards the end; he got hooked on Foxycodone, and between that and all the prescriptions his doctors had him on, it turned his brain to calamari. Eventually, it cost him everything…including his life. And he never got near either me, or The Red Pig." His face was painted with the downcast expression of a professional mourner.

"Okay, then..?" Judy started to ask, but then noticed that Fru was shooting her an anxious look. Ri-i-ight, it was time to put this train back on track. "Okay, then getting back to the subject of your troubles with the Red Pig, what do you think will happen to your grandson if you two go to war? You do that and there's no way that little Tony won't end up in the rackets…and then he'll end up like…" (Dangit, what was that wolf's name again?) "...like Tony Lupino, put away for good. Is that what you want?"

Mr. Big's brows shot upwards and she braced herself for a stinging rebuke. But the shrew was only surprised that she knew the name.

"How did you ever hear about…? Never mind, it's not important." He was giving her the talk-to-the-paw-gesture. Fru saw it and started to come unglued again.

"Dangit Daddy, listen to her, she's right; you KNOW she's right. If you and Peccari go to war, my Tony will NEVER get out of 'the life.'"

"I have no CHOICE!" her father said again, slamming his fist on the arms of his chair—and nearly catapulting himself onto the desktop.

"All right," Judy took a deep breath and let her paw dangle behind a knee with the fingers crossed. "Time to play my ace…" And she could only hope that it was an ace, and not a four of clubs.

"Don Grandi," she said, clearing her throat, "if I may speak plainly, you must remember that there's another party with an interest here and that's the ZPD. And while I may be just a lowly officer I think I can safely tell you something. The Department is not going to sit quietly on the sidelines if you and the Red Pig declare war on each other; not while there are innocent lives in the cross-fire. We'll do whatever it takes to protect the citizens of Zootopia; I'LL do whatever it takes. That's the oath I swore when I joined the ZPD and I'll honor it, no matter what." She turned her most piercing look on Mr. Big, who gave it right back to her. He must have really been something when he was making his bones on the streets of Tundratown. Did she dare throw down her trump card?

She swallowed hard and played it.

"And God help you both if it's a COP that gets hurt in your turf war; the City will come after you with everything we have and all the Vern Rodenbergs in the world won't be able to keep you from going away…stay where you are, mister!"

She was speaking to the Greenland wolf…who had bared his fangs and was moving towards her.

"Mind your manners, Kjell!" The Big Shrew snapped, shooting an angry finger at his soldier. The wolf backed off as told, but continued to glare balefully at Judy.

"My apologies for the rudeness, Officer Hopps," Mr. Big said to her—in about as unapologetic a voice as she'd ever heard, "But I assure you, I would never allow an officer of the ZPD to become hurt in such a conflict." His gaze turned upwards again, "And, much as it pains me to admit this, neither would the Red Pig."

Judy forced herself not to stare but was unable to keep her nose from twitching. What, now? Didn't he know? Was he not aware of…? Ohhh, Sweet cheez n' crackers, this could be her way inside.

She sat back in her chair, folding her arms and assuming her most haughty expression. "It's a little late to tell me that Mr. Big—because there's ALREADY been a police officer who got hurt because of your conflict with Rocco Peccari." She thumped herself in the chest with a pair of knuckles, "And I should know, because I was that officer; I came that close to being killed in the Tux-on fire!"

"WHAT?!"

Everyone in the room was staring, thunderstruck; Mr. Big, Raymond, the wolf and the tiger; even Fru-Fru was wide-eyed and mouth agape. Holy Carrot Sticks, they really didn't know what had almost happened to her.

"Ohhh Judy, are you all right?" Fru was struggling to get out of her chair again.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry about it," Judy assured her, motioning for her friend to sit down again.

"What happened?" Mr. Big was asking, and this time his contrition was genuine.

Judy gave him the no-frills version.

"It happened while I was chasing a suspect through the alley behind Tux-On. When the roof collapsed, it took down a power pole, and I was nearly electrocuted. I ended up with a minor concussion and had the breath knocked out of me, but like I said," She held up a thumb and forefinger, "it was THAT close."

"But…this fire was set by Red Pig, not by us," the Siberian tiger pointed out in a pitiful growl, earning himself a scornful look from both Mr. Big and Koslov.

"Yes, I know," Judy said, also throwing him a sneer, "and I also know what my dad always says, 'I don't care WHO started it.'" She focused on Mr. Big again, "And neither will the ZPD, if one of our own gets killed in your fight with the Red Pig. If I had died because of the Tux-On fire, you'd BOTH be in jail right now." She didn't know how true that was, but it sure as heck felt that way.

It must have felt that way to Mr. Big too, because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. And that was when Judy knew, she had finally gotten to him. Whoa, you just never could tell; she had walked into this office hoping she had an ace and all along she'd been holding a royal flush. Nearly dying in that alleyway had given her what is known in mob parlance as 'a legitimate beef'—especially since the Big Shrew had been completely unaware of what had happened until now. (And it was a pretty safe bet that if he hadn't known, neither did the Red Pig.) Furthermore it pointed up an undeniable fact; a gang-war is a monster not so easily contained. If, and when, the two mob bosses chose to fight it out, there was no guarantee that another cop wouldn't be caught in the maelstrom.

And if THAT happened…

"Very well, then…" Mr. Big slapped the arms of his chair, and looked straight at her. "I will make one last attempt to extend the olive branch. You may tell the Red Pig that I am willing to accept the possibility—the possibility—that he did not burn down my properties…if he will extend the same courtesy to me. I further propose a cease-fire while we, each of us, look into whether or not another party may have been behind those fires. If he agrees, I will take no further action against either him, the Sahara Square family, or against any of his properties. On my Grandmamma's grave, I swear this."

He held up a paw and behind him Koslov crossed himself again.

But then his face turned hard and icy.

"However, know this, Officer Hopps…if the Red Pig spurns my offer, if he spits on my olive branch; especially if he tries to double cross me, there will be no peace between us. Should even one more of my properties go up in flames…if it is firebombed, if someone lights a match, if it gets hit by a bolt of lightning," He raised a bony finger, pointing it straight at her, "Then I promise you, NOTHING will stay my paw." He leaned suddenly forward, his bushy-browed face suffused with a 'show me' stare. "What is your answer?"

"What is..MY…?" Judy fell back in her chair with her nose twitching. "..m-my answer; what the heck is he talking abou…? Oh, Sweet…Oh, my God, is he serious? He wants ME to deliver his message to the Red Pig? How the heck am I even supposed to get in to see Rocco Peccari? That maniac won't let ANY police mammal get within a hundred yards of him. So, what chance do I have, when I'm one of the cops that helped bust his jewelry store! Ohhhh, did I just get played again?"

And THAT was when she understood something else; the Tundratown Mob boss was trying to give himself an out. If she turned down his proposal, he could legitimately say to Fru, 'Well, I did my best; I tried to offer a truce to Sahara Square.'

Was that it…or was he simply testing her? Either way…NO way! Mr. Big was only tolerating her presence here because she had once saved his daughter's life. Rocco Peccari, on the other paw, didn't owe her diddly. And he was supposed to be about as even-tempered as a rattlesnake on a hot griddle.

That was when Fru-Fru also caught onto what was happening.

"Daddy no, you can't ask her to do that….it's suicide!"

Judy took a deep breath and slid out of her chair again. And then, walking up to the desk, she stood on her tiptoes, and held out a paw in Mr. Big's direction.

"My answer is, I'll do it."