LIBERI FATALIS: The Therianthrope Chronicles

by Eddie-E

A crossover between Ace Combat, Katmandu and another, surprise famous furry comic. A Japanese scientist during the onset of World War II in Europe devises a groundbreaking theory of evolution whose effects will resonate not only on Earth but also throughout the universe for centuries to come. Rated M for language and mature situations.

39. MEN IN BLACK

ACT XXXIX: MEN IN BLACK

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Man lives in a world of surmise, of mystery, of uncertainties.

John Dewey

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May 15th, AD 1955, Rosedale South (Ainsworth family home), Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 09:00 AM

It had been five long, agonizing days since the tragedy that befell Catherine Walburg; the memories of that fateful day were still fresh in her mind, of how she lost not only her home, but two dear friends, Serena Kendrick and Alena McWild, the latter of whom she had known since her college years. A madman, a long sought Italian terrorist from the days of World War II named Massimiliano Fermi, had come for her, seeking to end her life. But fate had other plans, as she was out shopping when Fermi struck. He had previously tampered with her stove, a cruel ploy to destroy her home and anyone within it, but she had been spared, only to return to find her two friends, who had fallen victim to the gas leak that resulted from the sabotaged stove, as they tried to prepare a meal. The house, and those two beloved women, were consumed by the flames as a result of the explosion.

And the fate of Catherine Walburg could have been sealed, if not for the bravery of her neighbor, the stalwart police officer Lance Ainsworth; he had just returned home from a hard day's work, when he caught sight of the Italian hitman, Massimiliano Fermi, as he prepared to claim his quarry. Without hesitation, Ainsworth drew his weapon and fired, disarming and wounding the terrorist, but the determined Fermi was not one to give up easily, and he fled the scene in a desperate attempt to escape. And Catherine, with a fierce determination in her heart, gave chase in her own vehicle, setting off a high-speed pursuit through the city. The sounds of screeching tires and revving engines echoed through the whole city as the two vehicles raced towards south of town, outside Evansville.

The chase raged on, as the Italian hitman sought to escape southward, hoping to leave the state, and the wrath of Catherine Walburg, far behind. He careened through the road, desperate to evade both his pursuer and the authorities closing in. But the woman was not one to let the death of her friends go unanswered. She doggedly followed, her eyes fixed on the fleeing vehicle, determined to bring the murderer to justice. And Fermi, in a last ditch effort, tried to shake her off by firing his weapon, but with his injuries slowing him down, he proved to be no match for the determined woman. The two vehicles raced towards the outskirts of the city, as the madman tried to make his escape; but his efforts proved to be in vain, as the chase continued, with Catherine Walburg determined to see that man either dead by her own hand, or at least arrested.

Meanwhile, the pursuit continued, down to the southern suburbs of Henderson, Kentucky, just a stone's throw from Evansville. The Italian hitman, Massimiliano Fermi, was now aware that the local authorities had been alerted and had sealed off all access points to the town, trapping him in a tightening net. The unfamiliarity of the region, coupled with his sense of desperation, led him to Sunset Park, a small park along the banks of the Ohio River.

And so, the moment of truth arrived: With no escape in sight, the Italian hitman confronted Catherine Walburg, the woman he had sought to kill. But she proved to be too quick for him, and with a well-placed shot, she neutralized the European assassin; now at her mercy, the terrorist lay sprawled on the ground, his weapon useless. Catherine stood over him, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and determination, as she sought answers: Was he working alone, or was he merely a pawn, carrying out orders from some unseen master?

Just as the scene was about to reach its conclusion, the authorities from both cities arrived, eager to apprehend him and bring him to justice. At first, Fermi seemed resigned to his fate, appearing ready to surrender without a fight; but in a sudden and shocking turn of events, the car that he had used to make his escape exploded. In an instant, the Italian hitman was gone, his body consumed by the flames of the explosion, and with him went any chance of uncovering the truth behind his motives for the murders of Catherine's friends, Maj. Fitzroy, Nick Larkin, and all the people he killed, or the identity of whoever had pulled the strings behind his deadly mission. In the aftermath of the explosion, the questions lingered like smoke in the air, unanswered and unresolved.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, the local authorities were forced to confront the uncomfortable reality that the incident was far more complex than it appeared. Despite the trail of destruction and loss of life left in the wake of Fermi's mad crusade, the federal government was keen to downplay the events and cast them as nothing more than the work of a lone criminal or mafia group. This left many unanswered questions, and fueled the suspicions of those who sought the truth. The local, national, and international press clamored for answers, and even those directly involved in the events, such as the brave police officer Lance Ainsworth, were left unsatisfied and frustrated by the lack of them and the fact the authorities lied about the way how the whole events ocurred, and it seemed that the true nature of such tragic story would remain shrouded in mystery, leaving a dark and bitter legacy in their wake.

Amidst the aftermath of the deadly events, Catherine Walburg found herself homeless and vulnerable, having lost everything to Fermi. With no safe haven in sight, and concerns for her own safety and the safety of her parents, the woman sought refuge at the abode of the brave police officer who had saved her life, Lance Ainsworth. As she settled in, surrounded by the warmth and protection of the Ainsworth household, Catherine set out to piece together what was left of her shattered life, determined to face the future with unwavering resilience.

But the shadows of danger still loomed over that woman; she may have escaped the clutches of the hitman, but the specter of fear continued to haunt her. Catherine had the option to return to her previous life as a secretary at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas, but even that offered no solace. The murder of her superior, U.S. Army Major Matthew Fitzroy, left too many unanswered questions, casting doubt over her safety even in the once familiar surroundings of her workplace. No longer could she rest easy, for the demons of the past still lingered, waiting for their next chance to strike.

Especially if those demons were in her own workplace.

And so, Catherine took refuge with the Ainsworths, holed up in a modest chamber on the upper floor. The room was nothing grand, but it held all she needed - a bed for slumber, a few lamps to dispel the darkness, and even a radio, a comfort that helped to soothe her frazzled nerves after the traumatic events of the previous five days.

The latter point was remarkable, considering that she had gone to the funeral of her two friends the day before, Alena and Serena. In that day, the somber procession of mourners made their way to the graveside, where the two slain young women were laid to rest; their passing was a devastating blow to their families, as well as to Catherine, who stood there, feeling the weight of her guilt upon her shoulders, for it was she who had been the intended target of the European terrorist, Fermi, and yet, it was these two innocents who had paid the ultimate price. The mournful scene was a testament to the cruel and senseless nature of the violence that had taken place only five days before, leaving all present to grapple with the overwhelming emotions of loss and regret.

Catherine now found herself struggling to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. Despite her best efforts to avoid causing any issues for her generous hosts, the notoriety she had gained from the attempt on her life loomed over her like a dark cloud. In a small town like Evansville in the 1950s, news traveled fast, and her notoriety was hard to shake, and the young woman knew it would be no easy task to lead a normal life again.

And then, the dawn of a new day greeted Catherine as she rose from the slumber that had claimed her. Still swathed in the pajamas she'd procured after the somber funeral proceedings of the day before, she made her way to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of the night and prepare herself for whatever the day had in store.

But as she stepped into the hall, Catherine was greeted by Natalie Ainsworth, Lance's wife, who had risen from slumber just as the sun was cresting the horizon. With a kind smile, Mrs. Ainsworth greeted the woman.

-"Oh, good mornin', Catherine!"- The female host began first. -"Did you sleep well tonight, dear?"-

Catherine was in a state of mind far from being well, to put it lightly…

-"Ughh… I've had better days, to be frank, Mrs. Ainsworth."-

Natalie Ainsworth, the wife of Officer Lance Ainsworth, realized she may have been a little too quick to try to lift Catherine's spirits. After all, Catherine had just attended the funeral of her two dear friends, Alena and Serena, and her mood was understandably still quite low; the host lady began to wonder if her attempt at cheer had come across as insensitive.

-"Oh! I'm… I'm so sorry, Catherine… I didn't mean to sound unkind to you… I know you're still grieving, and it must be hard to even get out of bed in the morning…"-

Catherine appreciated the gesture and smiled weakly.

-"It's alright, ma'am. I know you mean well, but… It's just so hard for me to shake off the events of the past few days."- She explained, with her eyes wet due to sadness. -"I lost my house, I lost Alena and her friend, and now I'm the center of attention of the whole town after everything that happened… I just can't assimilate all this… sob… I really cannot…"-

Natalie nodded in understanding, as she placed her hands on the shoulders of her young guest, while the latter shed tears as she remembered all that had happened in those five hard days of her life.

-"Oh, god, dear god in the heavens… sigh… I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through…"- And then, she tried to reassure her in the best way she could in that critical moment, not just for Catherine, but also for her family as well. -"But please know that we're here for you, whatever you need. Lance and I are here to help in any way we can…"-

Catherine was touched by their kindness; she knew that she had landed in good hands with the Ainsworths, and she quickly demonstrated it to her hostess.

-"Thank you, Mrs. Ainsworth… sob… I really appreciate it… I'll try my best to not let my situation cause any problems for you and your husband..."-

-"Don't worry about that, Catherine. We're just happy to help."- Natalie smiled reassuringly. -"Now, why don't we grab some breakfast? I plant to make some pancakes and bacon for you, Lance and Samantha."-

Catherine smiled gratefully, knowing that her hosts had no problem helping her as much as possible, while Catherine tried to keep a low profile as things calmed down for her. At the same time, she accepted Mrs. Ainsworth's invitation to have breakfast with her family, which, besides her husband, also included the couple's only daughter, Samantha.

-"Sure, why not?"- The young lady agreed with Mrs. Ainsworth. -"I haven't eaten something like that in months."-

-"Well, let's get going to the kitchen then."-

And so, with that idea in mind, both women headed for the dining room, in order to eat the first meal of the day with the host family, along with their guest, Catherine Walburg.

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May 15th, AD 1955, Rosedale South (Ainsworth family home/Dining room), Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 9:49 AM

As Catherine made her way to the dining room, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. She knew that her presence in the Ainsworth's household was putting them in danger, especially with the attention that had been brought upon her since the attack. But she also knew that she couldn't leave, not until the authorities figured out who was behind the attack and why.

The woman, who worked as a secretary for the U.S. Army, tried to push away the dark thoughts haunting her mind and focused on the warm smell of pancakes and bacon that wafted from the kitchen. Despite her pain, she managed a small smile when Mrs. Ainsworth placed a plate piled high with golden pancakes in front of her; the bacon was crispy, the syrup sweet, and for a moment, Catherine allowed herself to enjoy the simple pleasures of a good breakfast.

Meanwhile, the Ainsworth family chatted amicably around her, but Catherine was lost in her own thoughts, her eyes distant and sad. She knew that she couldn't forget the past so easily, but for now, she would try to find comfort in the present.

As Catherine sat down at the breakfast table, she couldn't help but notice the conspicuous absence of Lance Ainsworth. She exchanged pleasantries with Natalie and their daughter Samantha, but the elephant in the room remained. Then, Samantha, an observant 15-year-old, couldn't help but ask where her father was.

-"Mom, why isn't dad here, huh?"-

Samantha's question lingered in the air for a moment, causing a silence to fall over the table. Finally, Natalie spoke up.

-"Your father had to leave early for work today, Samantha."- She said, giving her daughter a reassuring smile. -"He has an important meeting with the rest of the police force this morning."-

Samantha nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer.

-"Oh, okay. I just thought it was strange he wasn't here for the pancakes and bacon."- The teen said with a small grin.

-"I'm aware of that, dear. However, your father received a call instructing him to report to the police station as soon as possible."-

-"Oh, I see."- The girl replied. -"It's just that it's rare for dad to leave for work so early unless it's an emergency."-

-"That's true, Sam…"- The mother then explained the likely reason for the ausence of Samantha's father. -"But as you know, these last five days have been very hard for everyone, not only for your dad, but also for everyone in town, so it is normal for him to be busier than usual."-

Samantha Ainsworth's gaze flickered towards Catherine Walburg, the woman whose presence had sparked a flurry of activity from her father, a hardworking police officer. The attempt on Catherine's life by Massimilano Fermi had rocked the city of Evansville, claiming the lives of two of her friends whose funerals Catherine had just attended the day before. As she saw that woman who worked for the military, Samantha couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension, being unable to shake the feeling that things were far from over.

But at the same time, she could not say out loud what she thought about the whole issue, partly out of respect for Catherine, who was still clearly in pain over the death of her friends and feeling that her life had taken a 360-degree turn, where she had lost her home and almost everything dear for her, including also her senior officer, Maj. Fitzroy, who was also murdered by Fermi, together with Nick Larkin and his father in New York, and that for the moment, Catherine could only count on the help of the Ainsworths, not wishing to involve other people, such as her parents, in her own problems.

-"Yeah… I think I get that, mom."- The daughter replied dutifully, while still giving Catherine a somewhat sidelong glance.

Meanwhile, Catherine couldn't help but feel a heavy weight of guilt on her shoulders as she listened to the conversation between the Ainsworths. She knew that her life had caused an uproar in the quiet town of Evansville, and that the family's routine had been disrupted due to her presence. Samantha's gaze bore into her, filled with both concern and annoyance, as she realized that Catherine's situation had put her father's duty to protect her friend at any cost; as a result, the U.S. Army secretary couldn't help but wonder when all of this would end, and she could return to a normal life, without causing any more trouble to those around her.

Then, Natalie attempted to shift the conversation by posing a personal question to her daughter, seeking to steer away from the uneasy topic of Catherine's situation.

-"By the way, I heard you were planning to go out with your friends today, since it's weekend, right?"-

-"Yep,"- Samantha confirmed that info. -"I'm meeting Jennifer and Francine downtown at 11:30, right after breakfast."-

-"And what are you three thinking of doing today?"-

-"Well, we're not planning much, mom."- The teenage daughter explained her plans. -"Maybe we'll grab some ice cream and take a walk along the boardwalk, and then we might check out the clothing stores there. That's about it."-

-"I see."- Natalie replied, with some tint of worry in her voice. -"I just ask you to be careful out there, dear. Even though I know that things in town are very safe after what happened on Tuesday, I'm worried that something could happen to you if someone outside of Evansville knows who you are."-

-"Yeah, don't worry mom, I'm going to be fine, and we don't plan on leaving town, if that worries you."-

-"All right,"- And then, the mother gave her daughter the following warning. -"And by the way, Sam… make sure you don't tell your friends that Catherine is staying with us. Not only could it get you in trouble if people find out, but we also want to keep her whereabouts a secret. Got it?"-

-"Sure, mom, I won't tell a soul… Our house guest will remain the town's best-kept secret…"- Samantha replied to her mother with a wry tone, while also rolling her eyes as well.

Despite her personal feelings about the current situation with regard to Catherine, she understood the gravity of the situation and didn't want to jeopardize her guest's safety or even her father's job as a police officer, in the worst scenario. So, she promised to keep that woman's whereabouts a secret, at least to her friends.

-"Good to know that, Sam… and I thank you for your help in this whole issue; I know this must be really difficult for you, as it is for your father and me…"- The mother excused herself to Samantha, knowing that her daughter had her own feelings about the whole crisis her family was facing.

-"Don't worry about that, mom."- The daughter replied with a smile. -"After all, dad is a cop, and I'm more than used to keeping my mouth shut when I've had to listen to sensitive things related to his job."-

As the breakfast drew to a close, the trio wrapped up their lengthy conversation. Samantha, the young teenager, excused herself to get ready for a day out with her friends.

-"Well, gotta go, mom. See ya later!"- The girl waved goodbye to her mother while she left her home.

-"See you later, dear, and be careful out there!"-

Meanwhile, Catherine remained seated in the dining room, continuing her conversation with Natalie, Samantha's mother. The latter was the first to continue the conversation, while she showed a rueful look on her guest's face.

-"I'm truly sorry you had to hear that from her."- The woman began with her apologies. -"As you know, Samantha has been hesitant to spend time with you as she wants to ensure her safety, and she's been upfront with me from the beginning about not being comfortable with you being here with us."-

-"I really don't blame her for that, ma'am."- Catherine tried not to make a big deal out of the fact that her hostess's daughter did not trust her. -"Anyone would act the same way if they had to share the same roof with someone who was the target of an attack on their life where innocent people died."-

-"I just hope she doesn't have any problems out there if someone finds out that you live in her house."-

-"I don't think so…"- The secretary replied. -"I have the impression that Alena and Serena were just incidental victims, and he had no intention of killing them in the first place... he wanted me, not them."-

-"And what makes you think that is the case, Catherine?"-

Catherine realized that she couldn't reveal to Natalie all the details that made her believe that Fermi's target was solely her. She couldn't divulge the events of the previous days when Fermi stalked her and Alena, forcing them to hide in a local pizzeria. Alena left the eatery after a conversation with Catherine about the confidential nature of her job as a secretary for Maj. Matthew Fitzroy, supervisor of Dr. Komatsu's Advanced Evolution Project. But Fermi paid no attention to Alena, focusing his attention solely on Catherine until she managed to slip out the back and make it home.

-"The only thing I can say is it's a hunch of mine… nothing more."-

-"I take it you have your reasons for not telling me everything you know, if the person who wanted to kill you intended to do it for a reason related to your work in the army, right?"-

When pressed on this, Catherine Walburg could only say the following.

-"The only thing I can tell you is that even I don't understand why someone would want to kill me."- The Indianan woman accepted that her case is more complex than it looks. -"In other circumstances, someone would have preferred to kidnap me first, and try to kill my bosses in the army, rather than go to all the trouble of causing a rampage just to kill me…"-

-"I must assume that for the assassin or his bosses who ordered him to kill you, you must have been the weakest link for them."- Natalie took on Fermi's more obvious point in trying to murder her instead of trying to kill Komatsu first.

-"That would have made no sense."- Catherine replied her, while omitting some vital details. -"If what the gunman wanted was to know the whereabouts of my bosses from me, he would have tried to kidnap me first, get the information out of me somehow, kill me in some lonely place and then try to find a way to get close to them. In short, being dead wouldn't have done that man any good."-

Natalie let out a heavy sigh, fully aware of the grim reality that had befallen her guest. She couldn't fathom being in Catherine's shoes, forced to navigate treacherous waters that no one should ever have to endure.

-"For god's sake, Catherine, I can't imagine what you must be going through."- Natalie said with a sympathetic tone. -"I don't know the details of what you and your army bosses are involved in, and to be honest, I don't think I want to know either. But I do know that it must be tough for you right now."-

-"Yes, it is…"- The army secretary replied, still with a depressed expression in her face. -"And the truth is that I don't want to keep thinking about it…"-

Natalie, upon realizing that her guest had no intentions of continuing to talk directly about the subject, decided to change it for something slightly related.

-"Haven't you thought yet about what you're going to do once things calm down, Catherine?"-

Catherine hesitated for a moment, considering the weight of her words, before responding to her hostess's inquiry. Though she had yet to solidify her plans, she spoke up nonetheless.

-"sigh… I don't know yet…"- She respponded. -"What is certain is that I will most likely move out of this town as soon as things cool down… And besides… I am seriously thinking about quitting my job."-

-"Are you serious on that, Catherine?"- Natalie responded, who was notoriously stunned that her guest would even think of making such a decision. -"Aren't you just jumping the gun on that?"-

After a brief pause, Catherine justified her decision to possibly resign from the military.

-"I've given it a lot of thought,"- She said, her eyes unwavering. -"And I've come to the conclusion that resigning from the military may be my only option."-

-"I guess I can't know why you wish to resign, can I, Catherine?"-

-"All I can say is that it's for my own safety and for the safety of those I care about…"- Catherine spoke with a sense of urgency in her voice. -"…including your family, Mrs. Ainsworth."-

Natalie nodded in agreement with Catherine's observation. She knew all too well that her daughter was not the only one who felt uncomfortable with the Army secretary's presence in their home; the neighbors would likely share the sentiment, as they wouldn't want to be caught in the crosshairs of whoever was after Catherine, just like in the case of Alena and Serena. After all, she had narrowly escaped death once before, and no one wanted to risk being the next victim of a violent attack.

-"I sympathize with you, Catherine…"- Lance's wife replied her, with a sorrowful tone in her voice. -"I guess whatever you do from here on out is for your own protection and the protection of everyone else you know."-

-"That's right, ma'am."- The young lady replied. -"I'm worried that my actions and those of others might hurt someone… And that's why I want to leave when it's safe…"-

-"And… do you have a place in mind to go when you leave Evansville and resign from the Army?"-

After a short pause, Catherine answered that question.

-"I have a friend who lives in South Dakota… to be more exact, on an Indian reservation…"- The woman described her plans after she moved from Indiana. -"…because he is a doctor that I met way back when Alena and I were in college."-

Catherine's response left Natalie stunned, as the destination she mentioned was far from what she expected.

-"An Indian reservation?"-

-"Yes…"- Catherine replied, without any kind of irony.

The year was 1955 and biases were as common as the cold. So when Natalie heard that Catherine, a white woman, wanted to take refuge on an Indian reservation, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. In different times, it would have been enough to start tongues wagging.

-"I understand it's your decision, and I won't stop you if you have your heart set on going to a reservation to hide, even with a friend you trust…"- The older woman replied with a worried expression painted in her face. -"But… I would like that you should think that idea carefully, since, from what I heard from you, sounds like a risky plan."-

-"Yes, I understand your concern, Mrs. Ainsworth,"- Catherine explained her rationale for hiding herself in such a place. -"but, considering the magnitude of the situation I am in, hiding there would be the best option for me. Besides, it's unlikely that an outsider, let alone a spy or assassin from abroad, could enter a reservation undetected. Plus, my friend who lives there can help me if anyone tries to cause trouble there."-

Catherine's hostess, trying to hide her prejudices about her guest's idea of going to a place that a white woman normally would not go alone, at least at that time when prejudices against Native Americans were more pronounced, could only try to ask the woman to find another option for hiding than to go to a reservation.

-"And don't you have any other place to hide, like traveling to another country?"- Natalie questioned her. -"Also, you can even stay with us for as long as you need to, Catherine dear."-

-"Thanks for the idea, ma'am, but traveling to another country would not do me any good in this case."- The soon-to-be-former secretary said. -"I already thought about that option before, but it wouldn't change anything, since I would still be putting you and your neighbors and your family at risk if I stayed here in Evansville. Besides, I trust the person I'm going to stay with; he and his people will keep me safe if anyone tries to hurt me there."-

Seeing that she could not change Catherine Walburg's mind about going to live on a Native American reservation to protect herself from any possible retaliation from the people who sent Fermi to kill her, Natalie Ainsworth could only sigh in concern, sensing that her guest looked like she was going to come out of the frying pan into the oven, at least from her very prejudiced point of view.

Still, Natalie felt that Catherine knew what she was doing, and if she had planned to hide in such a place, it was because she knew it was the best place for a woman like her to hide from possible criminals who might seek her out to settle a score with her.

-"Well… sigh… I understand the risks involved if you decide to go there, Catherine. However, if you believe that a reservation is the safest place for you… then I won't stand in your way…"-

-"Thank you for understanding my decision, Mrs. Ainsworth."- The young woman thanked her hosting senior. -"Once I talk to my friend and things cool down here in Evansville, I will leave for South Dakota as soon as possible."-

And after a brief pause, Catherine sought to change the topic of conversation to something else of interest to her.

-"And changing the subject, your daughter Samantha commented that her dad left early for a meeting with his buddies at the police, didn't he?"-

-"That's right."- Natalie confirmed that point. -"He left the house at 6 AM. With all the ruckus caused by the incident on the 10th, I have to assume that Lance and the rest of the city's police force are working some extra time, and I can't blame him and the city for that."-

-"Yeah, I know that."- And then, Catherine asked something related about that last part. -"But… it's a little unusual that your husband left for work so early today. I understand the current situation, but in the past few days, he usually left for work at normal hours, not as early as he did today…"-

Natalie Ainsworth concurred with her guest's observation that her husband had departed for work earlier than usual, despite the recent tragic events that had taken place on May 10th, AD 1955. This implied that the meeting he was attending was of great importance and necessitated the presence of the entire Evansville police force from the early hours of the morning.

-"You are right, dear…"- The older woman agreed with her guest. -"It's strange to see Lance leave for work so early, especially considering the recent events in the city. I can only imagine that it must be something very serious for him and the rest of the police force to have to be there at such an early hour."-

-"Despite this, Mrs. Ainsworth, I don't think it's fair to blame your husband for leaving early. Any city would be on high alert if a foreigner came to kill someone for any reason, and I'm sure the city government doesn't want to let something like that happen again."-

Natalie reflected on the situation for a moment and realized that while the city government may have been overly cautious, it was still better than the alternative of having another dangerous individual like Massimiliano Fermi lurking around trying to harm Catherine or anyone else. The political climate of the 1950s, with the ongoing Cold War between the United States and the then-Soviet Union, only added to the urgency of the situation.

-"Yes, I suppose you're right about that, Catherine."-

-"I just hope the discussion at your husband's job won't cause me any more harm than I'm already going through…"- The woman then complained. -"I have my plate full of problems, and I don't want to be held responsible for something beyond my control, and for which I'm already being blamed for, regarding the events of the 10th."-

After sighing for a few moments, Natalie knew that now the only thing those two women could do was wait.

-"Let's hope so, Catherine dear… sigh… let's hope so…"-

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Ellis Park Race Course (Main Entrance), Henderson, Kentucky, United States of America, 12:30 PM

The sun was high in the sky, casting its warm rays over the bustling crowd gathered outside the entrance of the Ellis Park Race Course. The track, which had been built in AD 1922 by the Green River Jockey Club, was one of the most popular attractions in Henderson, Kentucky. The grandstand loomed over the lush green turf, where thoroughbreds were warming up for the upcoming race, and, in the same way, the smell of popcorn, peanuts, and horse sweat filled the air.

The entrance was a simple wooden gate with a sign that read "Ellis Park" in red letters. A man in a white shirt and black tie collected tickets from eager spectators, who hurried to find their seats or place their bets. Some wore hats and dresses, others wore jeans and shirtsleeves. They all shared a common passion for horse racing and a hope for a lucky day.

The entrance was also a border between two states: Kentucky and Indiana. Although Ellis Park was located north of the Ohio River, which normally marked the state line, it was technically part of Kentucky due to an old survey error. This meant that it used Indiana's area code but followed Kentucky's laws on gambling and alcohol. It also meant that it attracted visitors from both sides of the river, who mingled and cheered together as they watched their favorite horses run.

Yet among the throng of racing fans, one figure stood out. He had not come to Ellis Park for the thrill of the sport or the chance of a fortune, but for very different motives…

-"Here's your ticket, sir."- The ticket seller handed the entrance ticket to a man with short blond hair, a mustache of the same color and of average height. -"Have a nice day, and I wish you good luck today!"-

-"Thank you, ma'am."- The man replied her.

The enigmatic man slipped his ticket from his pocket with practiced ease, handing it over to the ticket collector with a curt nod. With a quick glance at his surroundings, he strode past the entrance and made his way into the belly of the beast: the racetrack.

The bustle of the surrounding crowds failed to deter him, his eyes scanning the stands for something, or perhaps someone, in particular. Though he feigned interest in the race itself, the man was clearly preoccupied with other thoughts, his mind churning with a sense of purpose that belied his calm exterior.

Despite the cacophony of sounds and smells, the man moved with a determined grace, his every step bringing him closer to his intended destination.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Ellis Park Race Course (Grandstands), Henderson, Kentucky, United States of America, 12:45 PM

The blond-haired man entered the grandstand, his eyes flickering with a hint of uncertainty as he took in the frenzied atmosphere around him. The horse race was already underway, the thunderous sound of galloping hooves filling the air as the animals raced towards the finish line.

The audience was in a frenzy, each member eager to see if their chosen horse would emerge victorious. Large sums of money were at stake, and the tension was palpable, a living thing that writhed and surged through the crowd like an electric current.

As the horses ran, the grandstand erupted into a deafening roar, shouts, and whistles mingling with the frantic voice of the commentator as he narrated the details of the race through the loudspeakers. The supersonic quality of his voice added to the frenzied atmosphere, the words tumbling out like a waterfall of sound that threatened to drown out the noise of the horses themselves.

But the race was of little concern to the man as he made his way through the crowded grandstand. He had other goals in mind, his eyes scanning the crowd with a sense of purpose as he searched for the two people he had arranged to meet.

Days before, they had agreed to rendezvous at Ellis Park, watching the race as they waited for the man to arrive. There was something in the air that spoke of danger and intrigue, a sense that something was about to happen, something that would change the course of their lives forever.

As the man made his way through the throngs of people, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, he couldn't help but wonder what was in store for him. He knew that the stakes were high, that the outcome of this meeting would have far-reaching consequences.

The mysterious man had found his targets, the two individuals he had arranged to meet at Ellis Park. They stood before him, the taller of the two standing at an imposing height of 1.85 meters, while his companion, smaller in stature, wore glasses and showed signs of baldness.

The men were watching the race with a hint of interest, their eyes flickering with excitement as they nibbled on corn dogs to stave off their hunger. But that blond man knew that there was more to this meeting than just idle chitchat and horse races…

-"Oh! Good afternoon, Lt. Ainsworth!"- The tall man stepped forward, his voice ringing out with a pronounced New York accent as he greeted the blond-haired man who had just arrived. It was Lieutenant Lance Ainsworth, from the Evansville Police Department. -"Hope you didn't have any trouble getting into the track, did ya?"-

-"Thankfully no, detective."- The lieutenant replied in the loudest voice he could muster, considering the noise in the racetrack. -"I don't think anyone noticed that I work for the police when I came in here."-

-"Good to know that, Lieutenant."- The taller sleuth from the Big Apple said, while still biting his corn dog. -"It would have been a problem if someone had recognized you when coming in here…"-

-"Listen, Mr. McNamara,"- Lance said with a serious tone. -"If my bosses in the force find out that I'm here talking to detectives from another jurisdiction in a racetrack, especially in order to reveal confidential info, even if it's my day off, I could kiss my job goodbye… And, to be honest… I don't know why I agreed to talk to you two guys…"-

-"If I recall correctly, when we first met, you mentioned wanting to help us out to some extent, all in the hopes of helping your friend Catherine. Am I right?"- Douglas Miller, Frank McNamara's partner and a detective himself, spoke up while also munching on his corn dog.

After a brief pause, Lance conceded that last point.

-"Well, yes… Mr. Miller."-

-"I believe you're on the same page as us, Lieutenant."- McNamara spoke up, taking over from Miller. -"I mean, it's not just us, right…? Everything about what happened to your friend Catherine seems really sketchy, for putting in a simple way; also, the government at all levels, local, state, and even national, seems to be downplaying the whole situation, even though a foreign terrorist caused chaos in your city on the 10th."-

Lance Ainsworth was well aware that the two New York detectives had been hot on the trail of the same man for quite some time. The case seemed to be very complex, starting with the fact that a foreign criminal had gone to great lengths to destroy Catherine's home, killing two of her friends in the process. From what little McNamara and Miller had divulged to him before their meeting in Ellis Park, it appeared that man, Massimiliano Fermi, was responsible for other deaths as well – information that Ainsworth had previously obtained from the two FBI agents who had arrived on the scene the day that he, along with police from both cities, discovered a dead tiger in Sunset Park near where Fermi was ultimately killed.

But at the same time, he was well aware of the sensitivity of the subject at hand. He knew that the conversation had to be carefully moderated, and any further discussion might lead to unwanted attention. Also, he couldn't risk arguing with the detectives, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller, in a public place like Ellis Park, where ears were bound to prick up at the slightest hint of a juicy conversation. As the trio stood there, surrounded by the clamor of the racetrack, Lance made a mental note to steer the conversation in a different direction, and maybe find a quieter place to continue their discussion.

-"Excuse me, gentlemen,"- Lance said at the sleuths. -"I would like to discuss this matter further, but for our own safety, it would be better if we do it outside, if you two don't mind on that…"-

The two detectives were riveted to the horse race unfolding before them, but their attention was also divided between the excitement of the event and their third interlocutor, Lt. Ainsworth, who had just suggested that they move their conversation elsewhere. They turned to him with curiosity, their eyes lingering on the flashing colors of the jockeys' silks as they spoke.

-"Yeah, of course, we already had that idea in mind."- Miller, the short detective, responded to Lance. -"But…"-

-"But what?"- The Evansville police officer questioned him.

Then, McNamara and Miller diverted their attention from Lance to the race, which was reaching its climax. The horses were just moments away from crossing the finish line. However, before the race ended, the former responded to Lance's question.

-"First, let us see the end of the race."-

At that moment, Lance Ainsworth's attention was drawn to the two New York detectives, who had betting slips in their hands, indicating that they had placed bets on some of the horses participating in the race. Despite their role as law enforcement officers, it seemed they had no qualms about engaging in horse betting, something that did not escape Lance's notice, as he observed them closely.

-"You guys both bet on horses, didn't you?"-

The detectives exchanged a knowing look as Lance posed his question. They made no attempt to hide the fact that they had a vested interest in the outcome of the race - both of them had placed bets on the horses that were thundering down the track.

Their responses were quick and confident, devoid of any shame or guilt. It was clear that they had no intention of hiding their gambling habits from the curious Lance.

-"Well… we had to do something here while we were waiting for you, didn't we, Lieutenant?"- McNamara responded him.

-"Hey, it was your idea about betting on some horses, buddy!"- Miller responded with outward cynicism, for he, too, had betting slips in his hands, making him less innocent than his taller companion.

-"Says the one who also likes to bet on horses from time to time…"- The other detective swaggeringly taunted his partner by berating him about the fact that he liked to bet on races, when Miller was not much different from him in that respect. -"…and also on greyhounds."-

Miller narrowed his eyes at his partner, taking the bait.

-"Hey now, let's not forget about your love for the roulette table."- He retorted with a smirk.

Meanwhile, Lance Ainsworth couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration as he watched his two partners bicker about their gambling habits, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was a recipe for disaster. He knew very well that what they were going to do once they left the racetrack could get the three of them into trouble, and having to deal with two men who took pleasure in placing bets was not the best way to go unnoticed in a situation that required maximum discretion because of what was at stake at that moment.

-"Gentlemen… sigh…"- The Indianan police officer addressed the New Yorkers. -"…I just hope you two didn't come all this way just to bet on those horses…"-

But by that moment, the thundering of hooves echoed through the air as the horses charged towards the finish line. The crowd roared with excitement, their anticipation palpable as they waited for the victor to emerge.

But alas, as the dust settled and the cheers died down, the race was already over. The champion had been crowned, and the glory and spoils of victory were his to claim.

At the prestigious Ellis Park in Henderson, Kentucky, one horse had emerged triumphant, leaving its rivals in the dust. The jockey, no doubt beaming with pride and satisfaction, had earned a handsome sum of cash, as did the fortunate punters who had bet on the winning steed.

But with the thrill of victory came the sting of defeat for those who had wagered on the losing horses. Some would walk away with empty pockets, their dreams of fortune shattered in an instant.

Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller, the two New York detectives, watched as the winner celebrated his triumph and the losers counted their losses. The men of law checked their betting slips, and with a resigned sigh, threw them into the air, their hopes of a windfall dashed.

Yet, despite their misfortune, the duo didn't appear to be disheartened. They exchanged a look that spoke volumes, conveying their mutual understanding that sometimes the odds were simply not in their favor.

The two sleuths were men of experience, with years of working in the streets under their belts. They knew that in their line of work, one could never rely solely on luck. Instead, they believed in the power of strategy, preparation, and perseverance; both men had learned to take their losses in stride, knowing that setbacks were just temporary roadblocks on the way to success.

-"Well… guess fortune didn't smile on us today, did it, Miller?"-

Miller, the smaller man, after letting out a fleeting sigh, couldn't agree more with his professional colleague.

-"Hope we get lucky another day, pal…"-

Meanwhile, Lance Ainsworth was glad that the race was over, because that meant that now the three of them could get to work without attracting the attention of everyone at the track if anyone noticed that those men were law enforcement officers betting on the horses, at least in the case of McNamara and Miller.

-"Well, gentlemen…"- The police officer said with a snide tone in his voice. -"…If you two have nothing else important to do other than gambling, could we start working, if you may?"-

Seeing that their other partner was visibly irritated by the unnecessary and even dangerous distraction, McNamara and Miller put the whole thing behind them and agreed with Lt. Ainsworth to begin the job they had agreed with him the day before when they met after the press conference given by the Evansville and Henderson police chiefs.

-"Well, the race is over, and the truth is that I don't wanna lose any more money today, so I don't see any harm in starting to work right now."- McNamara said, as he rose from his seat in the stands at the racetrack.

-"Because if we weren't working right now, you'd probably have more time left here to sink what little you have left into this, pal."-

Douglas Miller replied with hypocritical sarcasm, since he too was a gambler, but at least he knew when to stop, especially when they were both on a mission of the utmost importance.

-"Very funny, Miller..."- The tall detective did not find his partner's words amusing in making him see the truth of his shortcomings.

-"Excuse me, guys,"- Lance interrupted the two men's argument. -"but the sooner we get the hell out of here the better, wouldn't you say?"-

The mood in the place had grown tense, with one of the partners becoming increasingly restless. But Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller were not the kind of detectives to let distractions get in the way of their mission.

With a quick glance between them, they abandoned their discussion of gambling and got down to business, knowing that they too had an interest in learning the truth about who might be behind the attack on the life of Catherine Walburg, Lance Ainsworth's neighbor and friend.

-"Well, in that case we'll be on our way, lieutenant."- Miller said. -"I just hope we can find something that will help us in some way to understand all this whole mess, for everyone's sake, including your friend."-

-"Thanks, Detective Miller."- And then, Lance pointed his thump to the racetrack's main gate. -"So, let's go then."-

And so McNamara, Miller and Lieutenant Ainsworth quickly and stealthily left the racetrack, knowing that a hard day's work awaited those men who wanted to discover who might have been the person or persons behind the Italian terrorist who tried to kill Catherine five days ago.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Sunset Park, Henderson, Kentucky, United States of America, 3:05 PM

The atmosphere at Sunset Park was peaceful and tranquil. The weather was mild, with a slight breeze blowing through the trees, and the birds were chirping harmoniously in the background; also, there were also a lot of families there in the park, while the children were playing quietly at the playground, while their parents were trying to keep an eye on them at that moment.

At that moment, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller arrived at the park in a dark-colored sedan, driving stealthily and without attracting any attention. The two detectives were both dressed in casual clothing, with their badges and firearms tucked away, out of sight; along them, they were also followed by another man, police officer Lance Ainsworth.

The three men spoke in hushed tones, careful not to attract the attention of any passersby. They knew that the case they were working on was sensitive, and that discretion was of the utmost importance. This went double for Lance, because being from another jurisdiction, he knew very well that if someone recognized him as part of the police force of the neighboring town, there could be a lot of problems, and all their work would go down the drain.

-"All right, gentlemen, here we are."- The police officer said at the two outsiders while walking within the park. -"Now what are you guys planning to look for in this place that the forensic investigators haven't found in the last few days, huh?"-

After a brief moment without saying anything, Frank McNamara was the one who began to outline what he had in mind.

-"Just wait and see, Lieutenant. I think this might interest you."-

-"And what do you mean by that, detective?"-

At that point, Douglas Miller also stepped into the conversation.

-"We're going to need you to tell us where that dead tiger was found yesterday."-

Detective Miller's inquiry left Lance even more perplexed and distrustful than he already was when he agreed to bring the two New York detectives to Sunset Park. Initially, he had assumed that their objective was to uncover additional leads pertaining to Massimiliano Fermi, the Italian terrorist who had targeted Catherine for assassination.

To his amazement, however, the duo did not seem to express any interest, at least so far, in Fermi or anything associated with his demise. Rather, they seemed fixated on the enigmatic tiger discovered dead within the park, a creature whose origins and ownership remained a mystery, with the only available information suggesting that it had passed away due to natural causes associated with advanced age.

-"You mean… that tiger from yesterday, detective?"-

-"Yup, that one, lieutenant."-

-"But… why are you two taking an interest in that tiger?"- Lance made his objection to the idea of these two detectives visiting the place where the tiger was found dead decisively heard. -"If you were listening to my conversation yesterday with the Marshal and the FBI guys, you should know that we have no reason to suspect that the tiger belonged to Fermi. Also, none of the civilian or military authorities have suggested that either."-

-"And what if I told you that the tiger might not have belonged to Fermi, but most likely to the person or persons who wanted him dead?"- McNamara said in a decided tone at the police officer.

-"What?!"-

Lance Ainsworth was taken aback by what he just heard. The theory that McNamara proposed was something that neither he nor the authorities had even considered before. It was something that had escaped their attention, and yet, it made sense; the idea that the tiger's presence near the place where Fermi died was not a mere coincidence, but a calculated move by someone else entirely. The revelation also left Lance wondering who could have orchestrated such a thing, and more importantly, why?

But at the same time, Lance Ainsworth felt a twinge of doubt as he heard McNamara's theory. The idea of someone sending a wild tiger to kill a person seemed too bizarre to be plausible, especially for the purpose of keeping someone from speaking out. Despite his doubts, however, Lance couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity; perhaps there was more to that mystery than he had initially thought.

-"Excuse me, detective,"- The Indianan said skeptically. -"but I find it hard to believe that someone would resort to using a tiger to carry out a murder. Additionally, the experts discovered traces of explosives in the wreckage of Fermi's car, indicating that they were hidden inside without his knowledge and detonated remotely, so it seems highly unlikely that a tiger could have been used to commit such a crime, at least in my personal opinion, as well of the rest of the police force."-

In response to that objection, Douglas Miller expanded on his colleague's theory with his own words.

-"Well, my buddy has another opinion on the matter, Officer Ainsworth."-

The police officer frowned at the assurance of that other New Yorker's words.

-"And… what would be his own theory on this, Detective Miller?"-

Then, McNamara broke off the conversation between his co-worker and Lance.

-"That's why we need you to tell us where that tiger was when you and your team found it four days ago, officer."-

Lance didn't quite appreciate the response from the detectives, since something about them made him feel incredibly uneasy; as much as he tried to deny it, there was a lingering suspicion that the cases of Fermi and the tiger were intertwined. Moreover, rumors were circulating that Fermi was linked to other deaths in the country, such as the killing of Major Matthew Fitzroy in Arizona and a mechanic who may have aided in sabotaging the officer's car. It was becoming clear that there was more to that case than meets the eye.

-"Gentlemen, what I am about to do will probably get me in a lot of trouble if it reaches the ears of my bosses, Internal Affairs, or even the local governments…"- Lance admitted. -"But at the same time, I am also interested in knowing what or who is behind the deaths of Fermi and that animal, since it is obvious that all the authorities, including the federal government, are trying to play it down as a medium importance event, just because there were explosions and deaths involved."-

-"So... you agree to help us, Lieutenant?"- McNamara asked him.

After a brief pause, the police officer gave his definitive answer.

-"I'll help you, but let me be clear: I don't care about politics or whose reputation gets tarnished. I want justice for the lives lost, and if the bastards responsable for all that shit end up in prison or the electric chair, that's fine by me. I'll do what I can to make it happen."-

And at that moment, McNamara extended his hand, grasping Lance Ainsworth's firmly, sealing the deal that he was now an official member of their team.

-"Well… welcome aboard, Lieutenant."-

-"Thank you, Mr. McNamara."-

And after a brief pause, the New York detective opened his partnership with the police lieutenant with the following question.

-"Well, now that you're with us, can we get to work, Lieutenant?"-

-"Sure."- And then, Lance pointed his finger in a specific direction. -"This way, please."-

Lance Ainsworth led Detectives McNamara and Miller through the thick bushes that separated the park from the area where Fermi was killed just a few meters away. Luckily, when they arrived at the site where the tiger carcass had been found four days earlier, there was nobody around the area. This was a great relief for the officers as they could work on the crime scene without any distractions or fear of attracting unwanted attention.

-"Well, gentlemen, this is where we found the tiger."- The Indianan police officer said, while still pointing at the bushes. -"I hope this can help you in some way."-

McNamara, the leader of the group, immediately began scouring the bushes for any signs of evidence; with keen eyes and a steady hand, he scanned the area for anything that might be of use to his investigation. Once he finished his initial examination, he turned to Lance and posed another question.

-"Where was the tiger at the time you guys arrived on the scene, Lieutenant Ainsworth?"-

-"The tiger's body was found inside those bushes."- Lance explained to McNamara. -"Visitors discovered it at 9 AM on the 11th, and the first officers arrived thirty minutes later. I arrived at the scene at 4:10 PM after Catherine's interrogations were finished, and I was notified by several of my colleagues about what had happened."-

The New York sleuth stroked his chin thoughtfully as he heard Lance's account of the tiger's discovery, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the dense thicket of bushes where the carcass had been found; something about the location of the animal's demise didn't sit right with the seasoned detective, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than meets the eye.

After all, what would bring a majestic creature like a tiger to such an inconspicuous spot in the park, unless it had a purpose beyond merely dying there?

And McNamara wasn't alone in his suspicion regarding the location of the tiger's death. His partner, Douglas Miller, had the same gut feeling and scanned the bushes with a hawk's eye, sensing that there was a concealed mystery waiting to be uncovered by these two detectives from the East Coast.

-"Do you feel the same as I do, buddy?"-

-"Indeed."- Miller replied, with a stoic expression painted on his face. -"It doesn't seem like a natural place for a tiger to die, especially considering that a person died violently just a few yards away."-

Meanwhile, Lance Ainsworth stood behind the detectives, his skepticism palpable as he watched them scour the area. He couldn't fathom how McNamara and Miller could uncover any new leads pertaining to the death of Fermi and the tiger, since, after all, even the local investigators had come up empty-handed, save for the discovery of the tiger's lifeless body in the park four days earlier.

And then, McNamara, with a determined look on his face, strode towards the thick bushes without a word to his companions. Lance couldn't help but feel a jolt of surprise at the detective's sudden movement.

What was that man up to? The young officer stood still, wondering what the experienced New Yorker was looking for in the dense undergrowth.

-"May I know what the hell you're doing, Detective?"- The police officer questioned the investigator as he saw him venture into the bushes.

-"Just watch and wait, officer…"- McNamara replied to Lance in a voice that showed confidence. -"I feel that right here is the reason that tiger came to this spot."-

Immediately afterward, Frank McNamara bent down to the ground as he entered the bushes, looking for something that would suggest that the place where the feline died was not simply chosen by the beast for fortuitous reasons, but for some darker motive related to the death of the Italian terrorist.

And so, the sleuth from New York remained focused on his task, scouring the ground inside the dense thicket for even the slightest shred of evidence that could potentially shed light on the curious circumstances of the tiger's demise. For a good twenty minutes, he remained vigilant, undeterred by the thorny branches and prickly leaves that threatened to hinder his search. He was determined to find something, anything that could reveal the true purpose behind the big cat's final resting place, assuming, of course, that it was intentional.

-"Wait a second…"-

McNamara's sharp eyes caught something peculiar on the ground, nestled between the roots of the bushes. He noticed a strip of soil that stood out from the rest of the area, displaying a different hue than the surrounding dirt. The detective knew this could only mean one thing…

-"Let me check this…"-

The detective's heart raced as he approached the peculiar strip of soil. He couldn't help but notice the claw marks surrounding it, evidence of the tiger's efforts to dig into the earth. McNamara was certain that the animal wasn't searching for food, as the bushes around him bore no fruit. Something else had driven the beast to dig at that spot…

-"Was that animal digging for something on the ground?"- The sleuth talked to himself in his own mind.

And then, McNamara wasted no time in getting his hands dirty, digging into the strip of dirt with a determined focus. He was desperate to find any evidence that would shed light on the mystery of why the tiger had chosen to die in that exact spot. Meanwhile, the other two men, Douglas Miller and Lance Ainsworth, looked on with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief as their leader sifted through the soil, searching for a needle in a haystack. But McNamara was nothing if not persistent, and he knew that sometimes the smallest details could reveal the biggest secrets.

-"Did you find something, pal?"- Miller, the shorter sleuth, questioned his friend aloud as he saw him digging on the dirt with own hands.

But McNamara did not respond and continued to dig with a frenzied determination. The detective's hands clawed through the soil, sending dirt flying in all directions.

Suddenly, the man's fingers felt a strange, metallic object buried deep in the earth. A shiver ran down McNamara's spine as he realized that he might have just stumbled upon a critical piece of evidence.

-"Is this a…?"-

Once the detective took the object out of the dirt and cleaned all the dirt from around it with his hands, McNamara's heart raced as he held the mysterious device in his hands. Then, he examined it closely, trying to determine its purpose. At first glance, it looked like some kind of miniature radio, which had an antenna, as well as a red button below it, and was about the size of a fist, and that small antenna suggested that it was some kind of transmitter, but what was the red button for?

As the detective looked at the red button on the device, he noticed that the button took up almost the entire front area of the device, as if the main intention for the button to be so large was so that someone could easily press it. It was clear that, whoever designed it had intended for the large red button to be pressed easily and quickly, without any confusion or hesitation. To anyone else, it would have been an obvious and foolish mistake to make such a blatant device - one that was clearly a detonator with no additional buttons, save for the radio antenna and the battery compartment.

As McNamara stared at the device in his hand, his mind raced with the implications of what he had just discovered. The size of the button was no accident, he thought. It was designed to be easily pressed by an animal, specifically the tiger that had died near the crime scene. That animal was no ordinary tiger, but a trained one, and its purpose was clear: to trigger the explosives hidden inside Fermi's car, silencing him forever and protecting his employers from exposure. It was a diabolical plan, and it was clear that McNamara had stumbled upon a crucial piece of evidence that could blow the case wide open.

Then, the sleuth decided to show the device to his partners. As he emerged from the bushes, Lance and Miller were waiting for him, looking concerned.

-"What did you find?"- Asked Miller, his eyes fixed on the strange object in McNamara's hands.

Afterward, McNamara showed his fellow agent the detonator used to kill Fermi.

-"I think I found the reason for that tiger coming here to precisely kick the bucket…"-

As Miller and the Evansville police officer approached McNamara, they quickly noticed the device he was holding. The large red button on the front panel immediately caught their attention, indicating that the device was no ordinary electronic gadget. Miller's experience in the field made it clear that the button was designed to be used by an animal, likely a tiger trained to press its paw on the button and trigger the explosives that killed Massimiliano Fermi.

-"A detonator…"- Lance Ainsworth said in low voice when he saw it with his own eyes.

-"That's right, officer."- Miller followed suit. -"…And one designed so that an animal could use it without problems."-

-"Then, that would mean…"-

-"...that tiger was trained and instructed to activate the detonator, thus silencing Fermi..."- McNamara completed Lance's words. -"…whoever came up with that plan must be a genius to have thought of such a crazy idea of using a trained tiger to activate an electronic device and kill someone from a distance."-

The police officer from Indiana couldn't hide his disbelief. The sudden appearance of a dying wild animal just a few meters away from the spot where Fermi died was already strange enough, but the idea that the tiger's presence was no coincidence, but a deliberate act to silence Fermi in case he failed his mission, was even more outrageous and difficult to fathom.

Who could have trained a dangerous animal like a tiger to activate a detonator? And how could the tiger have entered both Henderson and Sunset Park without being noticed by anyone? These questions left Lance perplexed, and the answers seemed to be out of reach; it was as if someone had gone to great lengths to ensure that the truth would remain hidden forever.

-"Forgive me, gentlemen, but I find it incredibly far-fetched that a tiger could have been involved in killing Fermi with a detonator."- The police officer questioned both sleuths. -"It's simply impossible to train a wild animal like that to perform such a task; it would have made more sense if they had used a trained dog or even a wolf, but using a tiger in such a manner is just absurd."-

-"Normally, Officer Ainsworth, I would share your opinion… but after finding and seeing this detonator…"-

After a moment of silence, McNamara retorted to the skeptical law enforcement officer, while showing him the detonator the New Yorker held in his hands.

"…I can rule out the possibility that a human being was behind Fermi's death."-

Lance Ainsworth remained silent as Detective Frank McNamara presented the detonator that could have been used by the tiger to trigger the explosion. The size of the button alone indicated that it was intended to be activated by the paw of a large animal, possibly a tiger. However, despite that revelation, the police officer remained unconvinced and still had unanswered questions.

-"But… why would someone send a sick animal to carry out such a task? I suppose the owner or owners of the tiger may have thought that the animal was going to die anyway, and wanted to ensure that both Fermi and the tiger were eliminated by the end of the operation. Nevertheless, I find the whole notion extremely implausible."-

-"Well… sigh… believe it or not, I would also share your opinion on this matter, officer..."- The sleuth replied, doing a hard sigh first. -"…but this would not explain why someone would go to the trouble of designing a detonator with a big button that could be pressed by someone who lacks thumbs, like a tiger… Furthermore, I found that detonator buried in a hole down there in those bushes that the tiger had dug to conceal it. It seems unlikely that the animal would have taken the time to bury the device if it were not trained to do so…"-

-"Then…"- Lance questioned McNamara once more, expressing his doubts. -"…even if we assume that someone trained a tiger to use a detonator, how could that animal have slipped into the park undetected? Despite the fact that the area was thoroughly searched by the police and the citizens of the town after the attack, no one saw any sign of that tiger until the next day."-

McNamara knew the police officer was right on that point, to which the detective did not hesitate to respond.

-"Well, your guess is as good as mine, officer." replied the veteran New York sleuth. -"It's highly unlikely that a tiger of that size could have slipped in without anyone noticing or attacking someone else first… unless it was too sick to do so."-

-"And yet, that would not explain how an animal, which had never been to this place before, could have found Fermi's location and positioned itself at a safe distance to detonate the explosives, and still have enough time and energy to hide the device before our big cat kicked the bucket."- Miller shared his perspective on the matter, complimenting his partner's words.

Lance Ainsworth couldn't believe the strange turn of events in the Fermi case. The notion that a tiger, even a trained one, could have played a role in Fermi's death from a distance using a customized detonator seemed completely illogical and insane. But the evidence presented by the New York detective suggested otherwise: someone wanted Catherine dead, and they were willing to go to great lengths to ensure that the truth was buried with her.

-"Mr. Ainsworth, I can see by the expression on your face that you don't believe us, nor do you think this is possible, do you?"- Miller says at the police officer when he noted Lance's growning skepticism.

Lance took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding to the two detectives, since he couldn't hide his disbelief about the whole situation.

-"To be honest, gentlemen… I don't know what to make of it… This whole case is incredibly bizarre from start to finish… First, an Italian terrorist shows up out of nowhere, causes chaos in the city, then dies under strange circumstances, and now a dead tiger is found a few meters away from the crime scene... and you guys are telling me that the tiger was responsible for killing him using a detonator!"- Lance replied to the detectives in an exasperated tone. -"Now… what the FUCK is going on here?!"-

-"Believe me, Officer Ainsworth, we're just as puzzled as you are."- Both detectives sighed, while McNamara was the first on respond, understanding the police officer's frustration. -"There are a lot of things that don't add up in this case… and we have suspicions that someone within the U.S. military or even the government itself may be behind it all."-

Lance took a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything he had heard so far. He wondered if he was losing his touch, or if this was really one of the most confusing cases he had ever encountered in his whole life. His mind was racing with questions and doubts, but he knew he had to keep a cool head if he was going to solve this case.

-"Alright, let's say for a moment that I believe you…"- Lance said, looking at McNamara and Miller. -"What would be the motive behind all of this? Why would anyone go to such lengths to kill a single woman and the man who tried to kill her, and what does that stupid tiger have to do with it?"-

McNamara looked at Lance with a serious expression on his face.

-"We don't know yet, but we're working on it…"- He said. -"What we do know is that we think there are powerful people involved in this, and they will do whatever it takes to keep the truth from coming out."-

-"Yeah, sure…"- The blond man replied with some sarcasm. -"So you expect me to believe that the American government would send an Italian terrorist all the way to a small town in Indiana to kill a woman for reasons unknown, just because you two say so? How do I know that you're not just a couple of loonies from a New York asylum, huh?"-

Seeing that nothing seemed to break Lance Ainsworth's stubborn disbelief, Douglas Miller came up with an idea that might help to get more clues about the bizarre case in which the three men were up to their necks in.

-"Even if I also have my doubts about the case, I may have an idea that may help to clear up any doubts we may have about this, gentlemen."-

As the conversation reached a tense impasse, Lance noticed that the other detective, the medium-sized one, was waiting patiently to speak. Lance realized that he needed to hear a different perspective, something other than the outlandish theory of his partner.

-"And what would be your idea, Detective Miller?"-

-"When McNamara and I were spying on you the day you found that dead tiger, I recall you were talking to a woman, who seemed to have experience dealing with animals… Is that correct, officer?"-

Lance put aside his discomfort at the realization that the two detectives had been watching them that day without being noticed, and acknowledged Miller's words.

-"Yes."- Then, he provided additional information to provide more context regarding that woman. -"Her name is Claire Sherman, a veterinarian at Mesker Park Zoo. She confirmed that the tiger died of natural causes and suggested that the animal may have had an owner, possibly a private one, given the state of the animal's body when it was found"-

And then, Miller thought about the next obvious step in the investigation.

-"In that case, why don't we head back to Evansville and go to the zoo, so we can talk to her, huh?"-

Frank McNamara, his other partner, took a moment to contemplate the suggestion before nodding in agreement.

-"Yeah, you're right. It won't hurt to pay a visit to the zoo and see if we can speak with Ms. Sherman; maybe she can provide us with some information that we haven't already gathered."-

Lance Ainsworth, on the other hand, wasn't keen on the idea of going to the zoo to look for the veterinarian, and his reasons were apparent.

-"Gentlemen…I'm not so sure if it's a good idea to head to the zoo and search for Miss Sherman."- The weight of the situation was clear in Lance's tone as he considered the potential consequences of working with McNamara and Miller without authorization. -"If my superiors find out that I'm collaborating with two detectives who are outside their jurisdiction, I'm afraid I could lose my job... or even worse."-

In response to the police officer's concerns about the consequences he might suffer, the two detectives tried to reassure him.

-"Well, you don't need to come with us to the zoo, officer."- McNamara talked first. -"All we need is for you to tell us where it is. We're not from this area, and we have no idea where the zoo is located after all."-

Seeing that the detectives had no plans to involve the police officer to that extent, Lance was quick to tell them where the zoo could be found.

-"The zoo is northwest of Evansville, on the edge of town. I guess, if you guys have maps of the area, you can find it, right?"-

-"Yeah, but it would be better if you could come with us into the zoo and wait for us outside while we work."- Miller said. -"We will take care of the rest once we're inside."-

-"And what will I do until then?"- Lance asked the sleuths.

-"Nothing."- McNamara explained. -"So unless you have to, you could stay in our car and wait for us there until we get back. Are you okay with that, officer?"-

After a brief pause, Lance replied, with some discomfort.

-"Sigh… Guess being inside a car doing nothing is gonna be kind of boring, gentlemen."-

-"In that case, let's not waste any more time and let's go there."- The taller detective concluded, once all was decided. -"There are already more people coming to this park, and we don't want to call undue attention to ourselves."-

-"Yeah, you are right. Let's go then."- The officer followed suit.

-"Me too, buddy."- Miller did the same.

With a deep breath, Lance Ainsworth nodded to McNamara and Miller, agreeing to join them on their quest for information. And, as they left the park in the detectives' car, Lance couldn't shake the feeling that they were all entering into uncharted territory. But he also knew that he had to follow that lead, no matter where it might take them.

And so, the three men set off towards the zoo, unsure of what they might find but determined to get to the bottom of the mysterious events that had taken place in Evansville, Indiana at AD 1955.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (entrance), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 4:30 PM

As the car carrying the seasoned detectives McNamara and Miller, alongside police officer Lance Ainsworth, turned onto the northwest outskirts of Evansville, the sprawling Mesker Park Zoo came into view. It was a lively Sunday, and the zoo was teeming with crowds of people, primarily families with their excitable children in tow, eager to partake in the day's activities.

However, the trio's visit wasn't meant for leisurely pursuits. They had come to question the zoo's veterinarian, Claire Sherman, about the tiger found dead at Sunset Park four days ago. As they stepped out of their vehicle, the cacophony of the bustling zoo surrounded them.

But the detectives' path was far from smooth. The throngs of visitors had caused a massive queue, with wait times that stretched far longer than McNamara and Miller had hoped for. The situation wasn't ideal, but they had a job to do. With a deep breath, they steeled themselves for the challenge ahead.

-"Looks like we are gonna have to wait in a long line to get in there, buddy…"- Miller, who was just climbing out of the vehicle, snidely remarked to his companion, seeing that they would both have to wait in line to enter the zoo.

McNamara, for his part, felt a pang of unease, a familiar sensation that often accompanied his partner's frustration. However, he chose to push it aside, knowing that there was still time to pursue their job, as they had to locate Dr. Sherman before the zoo closed its gates at sunset.

-"Guess we're just gonna have to join the queue like everyone else, huh?"-

-"You got a better idea, McNamara?"- Miller retorted back.

-"No, unless you want to let everyone know from the beginning that we are detectives coming from New York, and we shouldn't be here in the first place."- The taller sleuth retorted in a similar wisecracking tone to Miller's initial frustration.

Meanwhile, Lance Ainsworth, who remained inside the detectives' vehicle, as he had agreed with them in the park half an hour earlier, wanted to know what he was going to do while his two New York partners stood in line.

-"And what am I gonna do in this car while you guys are having all the fun?"-

McNamara had been well aware that Officer Ainsworth was to remain stationed in their vehicle while the detectives entered the zoo. He knew that it was imperative to keep his fellow officer informed of their plans, as they could need his assistance at any moment.

-"We'll leave the keys to the car with you, and if you want, you can listen to some music or catch up on the news to help pass the time."- The lead detective told Lance as they prepared to enter the zoo. -"But we also need you to keep an ear out on our shortwave radio, just in case we need your assistance. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."-

Lance nodded in agreement as he took the keys from McNamara's outstretched hand.

-"Got it. I'll keep a close eye on things, don't worry."- He replied with a sense of duty and determination in his voice. -"You guys just focus on finding Dr. Sherman and getting the answers we need."-

-"Well, then, we'll be on our way."- Miller said at the Indianan man. -"Wish us luck, officer."-

-"No problem. See ya, guys!"-

And then, Miller set off to join his partner in the queue, leaving Lt. Lance Ainsworth to carry out his designated role.

The two New York detectives wasted no time in joining the snaking line of people, made up mainly of families with young children eager to enter the Mesker Park Zoo. It was immediately clear to McNamara and Miller that they were in for a long wait.

Under normal circumstances, they could have easily bypassed the crowds by flashing their badges and gaining swift entry into the zoo. However, being undercover and out of their jurisdiction, they lacked the necessary authority to do so. They were forced to queue up with everyone else, a fact that left them feeling frustrated and resigned.

As they stood in line, McNamara and Miller exchanged glances of annoyance, wishing they could just fast-track their way to see Dr. Sherman. Alas, with no warrant to their name and no special privileges, they were left with no choice but to wait like everyone else. They just hoped that the line would move quickly, so they could get the information they needed and wrap up the case before the day was done.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Near management office), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 5:15 PM

It had taken over 45 minutes of standing under the unforgiving spring sun before McNamara and Miller finally reached the entrance of Mesker Park Zoo. The long wait had visibly taken a toll on both detectives, who looked drained and fatigued.

Before they could get down to business, they decided to take a quick break at a nearby fast food stand; thirsty and parched, they each ordered a soda to quench their thirst. As they sipped their drinks, they felt a sense of relief washing over them, knowing that they had finally made it inside the zoo and could now start their investigation.

-"Hey, McNamara… next time we do something like this… we should have brought some water with us if we knew we had to wait in line to get into a place."-

The tall detective, who was usually somewhat more resistant to working under the sun, for once agreed with his partner's opinion.

-"You're right… I didn't think it would be this fuckin' hot… It feels like we're in the middle of the Everglades or something…"- McNamara responded as he drank his ice-cold soda in one gulp.

-"Well, at least we won't have to risk being eaten by a crocodile if we were there..."-

And then, they both chuckled as were enjoying the momentary relief from the heat and the chance to share a moment of humor.

-"I guess that was a joke, right?"-

-"Given that we're in a zoo, I couldn't help but say that, pal."-

As they sipped their sodas in the shade of an umbrella on a nearby table, Miller turned to his partner and inquired about their next move.

-"All right, McNamara, now we're inside, I guess now we have to go find Dr. Sherman."- Then, Miller showed McNamara a small map they both received at the entrance of the place. -"And according to the zoo map, the administrative offices are in front of us."-

-"Yeah, I understand that."- The taller sleuth replied. -"But now the question is, how do we talk to her without alerting the other zoo employees that we're out-of-town detectives working without a warrant?"-

After a brief moment of thought, the shorter detective suggested an approach that might work.

-"It might be a bit risky, but we could pose as animal owners seeking Dr. Sherman's help to treat our pet."- Miller proposed. -"We could also pretend that we are acquainted with her to avoid arousing any suspicion from other zoo workers."-

In response to his partner's idea, McNamara reacted.

-"Sounds like a decent plan… but we can't be sure if she works with animals outside the zoo."- McNamara expressed some doubt about Miller's idea -"Not all veterinarians deal with domestic animals, let alone those that specialize in wild animals."-

Miller thought about McNamara's concern for a moment and then, he replied.

-"Well, we won't know until we ask her. And even if she doesn't work with animals outside the zoo, we can always try to steer the conversation towards our real reason for being here."-

-"I really hope you know what you're doing, because if your plan fails, we're going to be in big trouble. We might even have to go back to New York without any leads, and very likely with a black mark on our record."-

-"You got a better idea, McNamara?"- Miller asked.

The scorching sun and the long wait in line had taken a toll on McNamara's ability to come up with a better plan than Miller's risky idea. However, the seasoned detective's mind was still sharp enough to think of an additional approach that might complement his partner's plan.

-"How about this? If you think your plan is solid, why don't you head to the zoo offices alone and ask for the doctor while I wait outside?"-

Miller couldn't help but find it strange that McNamara was reluctant to go along with his plan.

-"I'm fine with doing it alone, but I find it strange that you don't want to tag along with me on this, seeing your penchant for taking undue risks."-

-"Well…"- McNamara explained, while he finished drinking his soda. -"If you go alone, there's less of a chance of raising suspicion than if we both go to the same office together. Plus, if I stay here, it reduces the risk of someone noticing anything weird about us."-

At that explanation, Miller quickly realized that the reason his companion was unwilling to join him was completely different.

-"I guess you just don't feel like walking right now, do you?"- The smaller detective responded with a certain sardonic flair.

McNamara, noting that Miller had understood his reasoning for not accompanying him, simply smiled faintly and replied in agreement.

-"Well, take it as you will, Miller..."-

The medium-sized detective, for his part, understood his professional partner very well when he was in that stance, but at the same time, Miller understood the reasons why McNamara did not intend to follow him to the zoo's administrative office. Besides, as McNamara himself had made clear, it was more convenient for one person to go to the office than for both of them to do so, and thus avoid arousing any unnecessary suspicion.

-"In that case, I will go to the office on my own. Just wish me some luck, buddy."-

-"Okay, good luck, Miller."-

And so, Douglas Miller went straight to the zoo's administrative offices to look for Dr. Sherman.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Management office), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 5:36 PM

Once inside the Mesker Park Zoo's administrative office, the first thing Douglas Miller did was to ask some of the facility's employees about the whereabouts of Dr. Claire Sherman, the veterinarian who assisted in the investigation of the dead tiger found at Sunset Park in Henderson, Kentucky, four days earlier.

As the New Yorker made his way through the place, he encountered the first employee – a woman who worked as a secretary, near the zoo's general management offices. However, the woman's demeanor was anything but friendly; it was clear to Miller that she found it irksome that an outsider had entered the building, even if it was for a legitimate purpose.

-"Excuse me, sir, do you have any business here if you would mind telling me?"-

As the sleuth noticed the woman's cold demeanor, he knew he had to handle the situation delicately; he attempted to strike up a conversation with her, hoping to ease the tension in the air.

"Good afternoon,"- Miller said. "I'm looking for Dr. Claire Sherman. I understand she works as a veterinarian here; can you tell me where I might find her?"-

The secretary, clearly displeased with Miller's request, didn't waste any time letting him know that she wouldn't be sharing any information without a good reason.

-"Why do you want to see Dr. Sherman?"- She demanded. -"I'm not going to give out her location to just anyone, especially not to someone from out of state, unless you can give me a good reason."-

The detective knew that persuading the stubborn secretary was going to be a challenge. It was clear that the woman was biased and suspicious, and rightfully so, as she was tasked with safeguarding the confidential information of the zoo employees. Moreover, the veterinarian in question was a woman, and the secretary might have had misgivings about Miller's intentions. Without further ado, the sleuth explained to the secretary the purpose of his visit and why he needed to speak with Dr. Claire Sherman.

-"I have an animal that needs to be taken care of by her, and that is why I need to talk to the doctor right away."-

-"And why don't you speak to another vet in town instead of coming all the way out here?"- Asked the grumpy woman, questioning Miller's motives for wanting to talk with the female animal doctor. -"She normally doesn't deal with domestic animals, so it's unlikely that she can help you."-

As Miller faced that woman, he realized that she wasn't going to budge without a compelling reason. His mind raced as he searched for an explanation that would satisfy her. In a flash of inspiration, the detective devised a plan and hoped that the secretary would fall for it.

-"The animal I need the doctor to see is a wolf;"- The New Yorker explained, this time with a more stern tone toward the lady. -"I don't think a regular city vet is going to take care of such an animal, unless you know of one, miss..."-

The unyielding secretary had been adamant about not revealing Dr. Sherman's location, but upon hearing that Miller required her help with a supposedly existing wolf, a wild animal that had been extinct in Indiana for some time, and that it was clear that Miller was a person of significance to have such an animal in his possession, the woman fell silent for a moment. She knew that Miller needed to speak with the veterinarian and that he wouldn't tolerate her rude behavior; after a brief pause, the secretary responded to Miller in a more polite tone.

-"If you need to speak with Dr. Sherman, she is located at the zoo's veterinary hospital, which is located over there."- The woman pointed with her finger to the doctor's location.

-"Well, thank you for your information, Miss, and sorry for the inconvenience."- The sleuth politely thanked the woman -"See you later!"-

With Dr. Sherman's location secured, Douglas Miller wasted no time and promptly departed from the zoo's administrative offices. However, unbeknownst to the New Yorker, the secretary still had a few words to say about him after he left.

-"Fuckin' arrogant greaser…"-

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Near management office), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 5:50 PM

Miller emerged from the administrative offices with the information he was looking for and made his way back to the fast food area where he found his partner-in-arms, Frank McNamara, chomping down on a ham sandwich, his patience waning with every passing minute. As soon as Miller arrived, McNamara wasted no time and cut straight to the chase, asking the question that was on both their minds.

-"Well, did you get anything?"-

With a huge smile on his face, Miller replied in a nonchalant way.

-"Dr. Sherman is right down that way."- He pointed his finger at the location of the zoo's veterinary hospital.

McNamara was taken aback by the speed at which Miller had acquired the information they needed. He had assumed that it would be a challenging task, but to his relief, his partner had managed to procure it with ease.

-"Didn't you have trouble getting that info, Miller?"- The taller man asked. -"You know... not everyone would give that data to an unknown man if there wasn't a good reason for it."-

-"I actually faced a few obstacles, especially with a secretary who seemed to have some… prejudices… as you know, pal… so I had to use a more assertive tone to get her to reveal Dr. Sherman's location."-

-"Yes, I feel you perfectly… and I don't blame you for that, buddy…"-

McNamara's face transformed from a carefree expression to one of anger as he listened to Miller's account of the secretary's discriminatory behavior. His grip on the sandwich tightened until it was crushed between his hands, unable to bear the mistreatment his partner had endured.

-"…those kinds of assholes make me sick… like you have no fuckin' idea..."-

Miller knew that his partner's reaction was not just about the racist secretary he had to deal with… No, there was something deeper at play, something that had clearly affected McNamara in the past.

-"It's not that big a deal, buddy."- The shorter detective replied, while putting his hand at McNamara's shoulder. -"I've endured worse things than that in the past than just dealing with an annoying bigoted woman, you know…"-

-"Yeah, I know that, Miller!"- The detective exclaimed, visibly upset. -"It's just…"-

McNamara said nothing as he took a paper napkin to clean up the remains of his crushed sandwich, his anger still palpable as if the mistreatment of Miller had affected him even more deeply than his partner.

-"It's about what you went through in the war, isn't it?"- The shorter man asked.

The senior detective, upon hearing that, did not hesitate to answer him.

-"Yes…"-

Douglas Miller's heart sank as he realized the reason for his friend's anger. Frank McNamara, before joining the police force, had been a soldier who fought in the bloodiest battles of World War II and the memories of those horrific times still haunted him, even after all these years. Miller knew that his friend had served on the European front, in places like Belgium, Italy, and Germany, where he had seen the worst of humanity.

And he experienced firsthand that last point: The year was AD 1944, and the war raged on in Europe. Frank McNamara was among the brave men which were part of a battalion of soldiers, green and seasoned, who were tasked with a dangerous mission: to parachute behind enemy lines and destroy a German outpost near the Polish border.

But fate had other plans. As the soldiers descended from the sky, they were met with a hail of bullets and explosions. It was a trap, carefully orchestrated by the enemy who had acquired intelligence through espionage. McNamara and his comrades were caught off guard and forced to fight for their lives in a fierce battle that lasted for hours.

The battle that ensued was a bloody and brutal one, with hardly any chance of survival. The Germans had the upper hand, and it was a miracle that any of the Allied soldiers made it out alive. Sadly, many didn't; McNamara and a handful of other soldiers were captured and subjected to unimaginable horrors at the hands of their captors. The Nazis were ruthless in their pursuit of information and didn't hesitate to use any means necessary to extract it. McNamara, who by then was a seasoned sergeant, was one of the few who managed to withstand the torture and refused to divulge any information.

The Germans saw McNamara's refusal to talk as a sign of defiance, and as punishment, they sent him and the surviving members of his battalion to a prison camp in southern Poland.

The name of that prison camp was Auschwitz, the most infamous concentration camp the Nazis had in Europe, when they carried out their final solution against the European Jewish population, their enemies and all the people the Nazis considered as undesirable.

The conditions there were unimaginable, with prisoners crammed into tiny cells and forced to work long hours under the scorching sun. Many died from disease or malnutrition, and those who didn't were subject to brutal beatings and other forms of torture. It was a living hell, and McNamara had to draw on all his strength and courage to survive each day.

McNamara's experiences at Auschwitz were beyond comprehension, since the atrocities he witnessed there were so unimaginable that even years later, he could not bring himself to speak about them with anyone, not even those closest to him. The horrors he saw had left an indelible mark on his soul, and the memories haunted him day and night. No one could blame him for his reluctance to relive those dark days, for they were etched into his memory with a pain that would never fade.

His release in AD 1945 by the Soviets when they liberated Auschwitz brought an end to his nightmare, but it was only the beginning of a long journey of recovery. Despite being awarded the Purple Heart by the U.S. government for his heroic survival, McNamara had had enough of war; he chose to leave the army, turning his back on a life of combat, and was given all the honors he deserved.

But Frank McNamara refused to let the hard-won skills he acquired during his wartime experience go to waste; so he made the decision to join the police force in his hometown, New York City. However, instead of taking up the beat as a cop, he decided to use his intellectual abilities to pursue investigative detective work. He preferred to rely on his intellect and wit to solve cases, rather than simply relying on his combat training like he did in Europe.

And it was there in the New York Police Department where he met his future partner in crime, Douglas Benjamin Miller.

The latter was a recent graduate of the academy with high honors, but who also preferred to devote himself to detective work rather than risk his life as a police officer. But for him, it was not easy at first to start working with a partner at his side, as many of his colleagues refused to work with him, for various reasons, including the fact that he was of medium height, and some, more prejudiced, did not want to work with him because he was of Jewish origin.

But McNamara never cared for Miller's height, appearance or even his ethnic origin, as he understood those features could never measure a man's worth. He recognized Miller's exceptional intelligence and knew that he would be an invaluable asset to the NYPD. As a former soldier haunted by the memories of his fallen comrades, especially after seeing many people like Miller being executed by the Nazis, McNamara felt a sense of responsibility to protect those around him, to prevent the loss of more innocent lives.

After all, despite their differences in age and experience, the two men shared a common goal: to solve cases and bring criminals to justice. And so, they became partners in crime, working side by side to crack the toughest cases that the NYPD had to offer, as well to becoming an unstoppable team, each bringing their unique skills to the table, with their combined efforts leading to some of the most significant arrests in the department's history.

But in those moments, Miller understood that the poor treatment he had received from that woman had reminded McNamara of those terrible memories of his time in that prison camp in Poland and had caused the man, who normally tried to forget his terrible past and live fully in the present, to simply freeze with fury at the poor treatment that others less fortunate than he suffered on a daily basis, especially when he had experienced firsthand the logical consequences of all those systematic discriminatory policies.

Seeing all those innocent lives lost, all those people ground down by systems of oppression designed to crush them. And perhaps most painfully of all, remembering how powerless he had felt to stop any of it.

For a moment, Miller wondered if he should intervene, try to talk McNamara down or offer some kind of comfort. But then he realized that this was something the man needed to work through for himself. So instead, he settled into silence, watching carefully as his partner struggled to regain control of his own thoughts and feelings.

-"Oh, man… sigh… I can't help but feel a little bad for you and what you went through back in Europe during the war."- Miller finally talked to him. -"And that goes double considering that I am Jewish and all, but almost all my family has lived here in America, and we never had the misfortune of suffering what the Nazis did in Europe, but I understand perfectly well, and it angers me in the same way what other Jews suffered during the war... A cousin of mine who lived in Hungary was burned alive by the Nazis, and his family practically starved and suffered misery while they practically had to flee Europe, when they traveled to Shanghai and from there they took a boat to California, so I understand how you feel about that, buddy."-

-"I guess it must be strange for you that a Gentile like me would feel empathy for a Jew, huh?"-

-"Of course not."- Miller spoke to McNamara in a comforting tone and said, -"Empathy for others is a human quality, not exclusive to any particular ethnic group; I assume that even before the war, you were never prejudiced against anyone, were you?"-

After those words of relief from his partner, McNamara explained a little more about himself.

-"No…"- The detective sat quietly for a few moments, collecting his thoughts before continuing. -"As you know, my family comes from humble Irish immigrants who fled to America during the potato famine. And even in that era, my family experienced firsthand the discrimination that comes with being treated differently for no good reason. My grandparents were evicted from their home by xenophobic English landowners, which led them to seek a new life here in America. And even as a full-blooded American, I've had to endure countless tasteless jokes and derogatory comments about my Irish heritage since I was a kid; so I know all too damn well what it's like to be discriminated against."-

And then the taller man added the following about some of the things in question about the fact that he abhors racism in any form.

-"Even though I am not exactly religious, my parents always taught me to respect other people regardless of such absurd things as the color of their skin, their religion or other nonsense; for them, a person's intelligence was a more valuable asset than one's physical superficialities, and ignoring their intelligence just to focus on absurd prejudices was something that made them furious, especially my father, who on more than one occasion had to deal with racist people who wanted to justify such stupid mentality."-

-"So, I guess, after what you went through in Poland, it just strengthened your hatred for all kinds of discrimination, didn't it?"- Miller asked.

-"Yes."-

After a brief pause, the shorter detective responded to his friend in a resigned manner.

-"sigh… I understand how you feel, but that's something I can't avoid, and I've had to live with that on a daily basis due to the nature of my job and yours." Miller then explained. -"The only thing I can do is I don't let that affect me, both mentally and physically, and… knowing in advance all the times you have beat the shit out of any asshole who has tried to belittle me for being a Jew… I already know that that is the least I should be concerned about… heh heh heh!"-

A wicked chuckle escaped McNamara's lips at the mere mention of the times he had come to Miller's defense, verbally or physically, against people, criminals or otherwise, who spewed hate for his Jewish heritage; McNamara was notorious inside the NYPD for not tolerating racial insults, and his partner knew it.

-"Yeah, Miller, you could say I have a bit of a reputation on going apeshit against such guys…"- He said with a grin. -"…But personally, I don't mind, and I don't care, as long as it keeps the bigots at bay."-

Douglas Miller smiled in agreement, glad to have a partner who was not only skilled but also had strong values.

-"Well, at least it's good to see that you're in a better mood now, pal."- And then, the smaller sleuth continued. -"But as much as I'd love to keep chatting about this, we better find Dr. Sherman before the zoo closes."-

-"Agreed with that."- McNamara replied, finishing his last sip of soda. -"Let's go then."-

-"Roger that, sarge."-

-"And don't call me sarge, for god's sake!"- The taller sleuth complained in a joking tone. -"I'm not in the Army anymore!"-

-"Okay, I'm just kidding, hehehe!"-

And then, after some joking between them, the New Yorkers got up from their seats and threw away their trash before heading out from the fast food area, as they went to find Dr. Sherman in order to talk to her.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Zoo Veterinary Hospital), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 6:14 PM

Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller made their way through the winding paths of the zoo, passing by various enclosures of animals, and eventually, they arrived at the small but modern building that served as the zoo's veterinary hospital. The place seemed to have undergone recent maintenance, evidenced by the fresh coat of paint being applied to the outside walls.

Then, the two detectives from New York City wasted no time admiring the modern veterinary hospital as they stepped inside. Upon entering the lobby, they were met by a secretary whose job was to manage the visitors to the restricted area.

Noticing that the two men were not affiliated with the zoo, the secretary quickly demanded their information.

-"Can I help you, gentlemen?"-

-"We would like to speak to Dr. Claire Sherman, if possible, Miss."- McNamara was the first to talk with the woman.

The secretary quickly picked up on the fact that the two men spoke with a distinct New York accent, betraying their non-local origins. This realization set off a small alarm bell in her head, for it was entirely possible that the duo had ulterior motives for wanting to see Dr. Sherman, motives that had nothing to do with her professional duties. Her suspicious gaze lingered on the two detectives as she asked for their names and business with the doctor.

-"By zoo regulations, we are not authorized to receive non-professional visitors during office hours..."- The woman warned the New Yorkers. -"May I ask what brings you two to talk with Dr. Sherman?"-

-"Well…"- Miller decided to reply to the zoo employee. -"We have an animal in our possession that needs medical treatment, and that is why we need to talk to her."-

-"I'm sorry, but Dr. Sherman doesn't practice regular veterinary medicine."- The secretary responded to the detectives with a brief and direct answer. -"If you're looking to have your dog or cat treated, I suggest you find a local vet."-

The shorter detective preemptively anticipated that the secretary would deny their request, so he came up with a pretext to persuade her.

-"Well, our animal that we need the vet to see is not a dog or cat, miss, but a wolf."- Miller replied her in a rather deadpan tone, without losing his temper at all. -"We run an animal sanctuary for endangered and wild animals, and Dr. Sherman was recommended to us as a specialist who could help us with our wolf; and… in the case you're still skeptical, we can show you some pictures of the animal."-

The secretary's demeanor shifted as she noticed the gravity of Miller's intentions. She abandoned her previously passive-aggressive approach, especially when she realized that man was not one to be trifled with.

-"Very well… let me talk to the doctor and see if she can meet with you two."-

-"Thank you, ma'am."- Both McNamara and Miller, in a polite tone, didn't forget to thank the hospital employee, even after she treated them in a rather terse manner.

With a sense of urgency, the lobby clerk swiftly departed to locate Dr. Sherman, fully aware of the importance of her immediate presence in meeting with the two men who had sought her out. Meanwhile, McNamara observed his partner with a hint of disbelief. Miller was known to have a more nuanced approach to extracting information, but he had no qualms about resorting to intimidation if the situation called for it.

And, judging from Miller's demeanor and their recent encounter with the racist secretary in the administrative building, it was evident that he wasn't going to tolerate any more nonsense.

-"Gee, and here I thought I was the only one who knew how to browbeat jerks, buddy…"-

-"Well... many years of treating with similar people has given me enough experience to know how to take care of them without resorting to aggressive methods."- Miller replied to his partner with a smile.

The lobby door opened, and in walked Dr. Claire Sherman, the woman the two detectives from New York had come to see. She was dressed in a white lab coat, her long brown hair tied up in a ponytail; the secretary had obviously relayed their request, and Dr. Sherman had rushed over to meet them, and then, she looked at the two men with a mixture of curiosity and caution, waiting for them to explain the reason for their visit.

-"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Claire Sherman; the secretary told me that you two would like to talk to me. How can I assist you gentlemen today?"-

As Dr. Sherman approached the two detectives, she extended her hand in greeting and introduced herself with a warm smile. Frank McNamara was the first to give a handshake to the Indianan vet and then, he introduced himself.

-"I'm Frank McNamara, and my other partner at my side is Douglas Miller. It's a pleasure to meet you, doctor."-

-"Nice to meet you too, ma'am."- Miller also followed suit.

Once the introductions were over, the doctor needed to know what the business was that brought both men to talk to her.

-"I was told that you and Mr. Miller own a sanctuary for endangered animals, and that you need my help to treat a sick wolf, right?"- Dr. Sherman asked.

-"Indeed, doctor."- The shortest detective, hiding under the guise of an animal shelter owner, answered in the affirmative to that question. -"But, before we delve into the details, we believe it would be best to have a private conversation. There are certain matters we wish to discuss in greater depth, and we understand if you'd feel more at ease in your personal office or any suitable location of your choice within your workplace."-

Dr. Sherman was taken aback by the detectives' request for privacy, but she saw no reason to distrust them. Miller had offered to speak with her in her personal office, a secure location in the middle of the building that would offer protection if necessary. Moreover, the two men did not seem threatening in any way. After a moment's consideration, Dr. Sherman accepted Miller's proposal.

-"Well, I guess we can talk in my personal office if that's okay with you gentlemen."- The veterinarian woman replied. -"I'm just warning you that the place right now, is a bit… messy… you know… since it's a veterinarian office and all… as I had to care for a cougar a few minutes ago… is that fine with you?"-

-"Yeah, of course, that's fine for us, ma'am."- McNamara had no further issues with Dr. Sherman's warning.

-"Same goes for me."- Miller followed his friend.

-"Then, let's go."-

And so McNamara and Miller followed Dr. Sherman to her office, where the three of them could talk privately.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Zoo Veterinary Hospital/Dr. Sherman's office), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 6:32 PM

Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller stepped into Dr. Claire Sherman's office, determined to have a private conversation with the woman. Their keen eyes immediately swept across the room, taking in the disheveled state and an unmistakable pungency that hung in the air, betraying the presence of animal excrement. Under different circumstances, both men would have seized the opportunity for a lighthearted jest, finding amusement in the situation.

However, McNamara and Miller recognized the importance of maintaining their façade as owners of an animal shelter until the opportune moment arrived to unveil their true identities. Thus, they remained steadfast in their resolve, refraining from off-topic banter that might compromise their purpose.

-"I apologize for the state of my office."- Dr. Sherman interjected, addressing both men with a hint of embarrassment. -"As I mentioned before, I've been tending to a cougar that had a minor case of poisoning, resulting in quite an unfortunate bout of diarrhea. Hence, the lingering scent of excrement, so please accept my apologies for the inconvenience."-

-"Don't worry about that, doc; we've been in worse places smelling worse stuff than cougar crap, ma'am."- McNamara replied with a playful grin on his face, as he tried to ignore the pungent odor of the place.

-"Well, that's a relief to know that, gentlemen."- The woman then sat down in her desk chair, at the same time she offered seats to the two law enforcement officers in front of her. -"Please feel free to sit down at any time."-

-"Thank you, ma'am."- Miller accepted the woman's offer, causing him and his partner to sit down on a couple of chairs located in front of Dr. Sherman's personal desk.

With the three characters seated in their places, the veterinarian began the conversation with the two men from New York, wanting to know exactly what their business was with her.

-"Gentlemen, please tell me what brings you here today."- Dr. Sherman began. -"I understand that you need my help in caring for a wolf on your property. If you could explain the issue with your animal, I might be able to help you better, gentlemen."-

McNamara and Miller knew that their time for deception had run out. They took a deep breath, exchanged a quick look, and then finally revealed their true identities to Dr. Sherman, along with the actual purpose of their visit.

-"Well, doc…"- The taller man was the first to talk. -"…it would've been a real treat if we had a wolf for you to look after... Hell, maybe even keep it as a pet, if that's within the realm of possibilities…"-

-"… And then, we wouldn't have had to resort to this in order to talk to you."-

As the conversation took an unexpected turn, Dr. Claire Sherman's nerves began to fray. With recent events in her city still fresh in her mind, including an attempted assassination of Catherine Walburg by an Italian terrorist, she couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, as the sudden shift in tone and demeanor of the two men in front of her led her to fear for her safety. She started to wonder if they were enforcers who had been sent to silence anyone who might be connected to the case, beginning with her.

Then, observing the natural apprehension in the woman's demeanor upon their revelation, the two New York detectives swiftly moved to allay her fears and provide an explanation for their mission. It was time to disclose their true identities, which had been shrouded in secrecy until that moment.

-"Please calm down, doctor!"- Miller reassured the woman with a soft voice before she could try to call for help. -"We have no intention of harming you. We are here to talk to you about an issue that we require your help with."-

-"So, in that case, who the hell are you two?"-

Immediately thereafter, the two detectives showed their badges and their IDs certifying them as detectives working for the New York Police Department to Dr. Sherman.

-"Detective Frank McNamara, NYPD detective, at your service, ma'am…"-

-"…and Detective Douglas Benjamin Miller, NYPD detective. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Sherman."-

As soon as McNamara and Miller revealed their badges, Dr. Sherman felt a mix of emotions. On the one hand, she was relieved that these men were not dangerous, but on the other hand, she felt a sense of betrayal that they had misled her. She also couldn't help but wonder why detectives from New York were involved in a case that had occurred in her city.

-"All right, gentlemen… sigh… I just want to know one thing..."- Dr. Sherman took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking, her anger at being deceived by the detectives simmering just beneath the surface. With a tense voice, she addressed the two men, making it clear that she was not pleased. -"What brings two detectives all the way from New York to talk to me? I have to assume it must be something very serious for you to go to the trouble of breaking the law by coming from another state and working on something that might not even be your business."-

-"In fact, there is a compelling reason that brought us here, Dr. Sherman,"- McNamara responds. -"It revolves around two interconnected matters: one you are likely already aware of, and the other may not initially appear to be related, but in reality, it is deeply intertwined."-

Dr. Sherman knew McNamara was talking about the recent terrorist attack on Catherine Walburg for obvious reasons. However, when the New Yorker mentioned another issue that was intimately related to the first, the veterinarian was puzzled and had no idea what he was talking about, despite having a vague notion of what it could be.

-"I suppose you are talking about what happened on the 10th of this month, right?".

-"Yes."-

-"So, about the second thing you mentioned..."- Dr. Sherman asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern. -"…you're not going to tell me it's about that dead tiger that the police found in Sunset Park, in Henderson, are you?"-

Both sleuths nodded their heads in the affirmative.

-"That's correct, Dr. Sherman."- Miller explained to her. -"It indeed concerns the tiger... and we're aware that you saw and examined the body, and we know that it is currently in your possession for the purpose of conducting an autopsy."-

The veterinarian found herself perplexed by the detective's response. Based on the information she knew so far, there seemed to be no apparent connection between the tiger and the events of the 10th, as the authorities had concluded as well. It appeared that the animal had simply found itself in the wrong place at the wrong time, with no indications linking it to the deceased terrorist.

Little did she know that the detectives had unearthed hidden clues that pointed to a different truth.

-"Gentlemen, unless you missed the press conference, let me reiterate that there is no evidence linking the tiger to the events of the 10th."- Dr. Sherman addressed the detectives with a touch of annoyance in her voice. -"I personally informed the authorities on the day the body was discovered, and I confirmed it once again during the autopsy here at the zoo. The tiger died naturally, likely due to its advanced age. It's highly improbable that it could have been involved in any criminal activities, especially given its deteriorated condition prior to death."-

At the obvious response given by the doctor, McNamara immediately countered the woman's words, offering what he, Miller and Officer Ainsworth had found at the scene on Henderson hours earlier.

-"Doctor, we are not doubting that the tiger died of old age, of course not..."- McNamara responded to Dr. Sherman with a tone of conviction. -"…what we are trying to tell you is that the tiger was the one who killed the gunman."-

Dr. Sherman, upon hearing McNamara say that the tiger was the one who killed Fermi, looked at the detective in disbelief.

-"Mr. McNamara, what you've just mentioned is utterly absurd. Not only do I lack any evidence suggesting the tiger came into contact with the gunman, but all the evidence points to the possibility that the tiger arrived at the scene several hours after the man's death. There's no way the feline could be connected to what occurred on the 10th, except for the chance that it may have sniffed some part of the criminal's body that the authorities hadn't yet recovered following the incident."-

Faced with the veterinarian's skepticism, Miller, McNamara's partner, explained how it was possible for the tiger to have killed Fermi without making contact with him.

-"Doctor, I understand your skepticism about this, but we have proof that the tiger killed the criminal... and the animal did not even need to approach him at any time to do so."-

-"And how is that possible, Mr. Miller?"- The woman rebutted, clearly starting to losing her patience with the New Yorkers. -"Surely you're not going to tell me that the tiger killed that man using a rifle or something, right?"-

Recognizing the need for tangible evidence to support their claim, Frank McNamara reached into the depths of his trench coat pocket. From within, he retrieved a small plastic bag typically reserved for preserving crucial evidence discovered at crime scenes. Enclosed within was an unusual detonator, potentially employed by the tiger to trigger the explosives within Massimiliano Fermi's vehicle, eliminating the terrorist. McNamara had uncovered the detonator himself, hidden by the feline in its final moments of life, buried within a concealed cavity near its lifeless body.

-"That tiger was trained, and very possibly done so by someone, so that big cat could activate this detonator, and thus kill the gunman. Also, their owner or owners likely considered that the animal would not live for very long, so they basically killed two birds with one stone..."-

-"…they would kill Fermi, and also get rid of the animal responsible for his death without them having to fire a single bullet."- Miller also added to McNamara's words. -"After all, they considered that no one would suspect that a tiger could have killed him without human help."-

The detectives' explanation left Dr. Sherman incredulous. She had heard some strange things in her career, but this was something else entirely. The notion that a tiger, a notoriously challenging creature to train, could be harnessed not only to carry out a criminal act but also to activate a detonator seemed beyond the realm of possibility.

In that moment, Dr. Sherman tried to maintain her composure, but she found herself teetering on the brink of disbelief. The fabric of reason strained as she wrestled with the New Yorkers' seemingly outlandish narrative. She had always prided herself on her ability to keep an open mind, but this was too much for her to tolerate...

-"Excuse me, gentlemen, but… but do you two think I'm stupid enough to buy into such a bullshit story just because you guys are detectives?!"- The doctor responded, no longer able to hide her façade of politeness in the face of what seemed like an insult to her intelligence. -"There is absolutely NO way a tiger could do something like that, much less manipulate a detonator to kill a person from far away! Are you two using drugs or what?!"-

As fury etched itself upon the woman's visage, a simmering anger at the perceived insult to her intellect, Frank McNamara sensed the need for a more direct approach. He realized that subtlety would no longer suffice, that a blunter stance was necessary to convey the gravity of their words and the profound implications that eluded her comprehension. With a firm resolve, he resolved to shatter her doubts and make her grasp the weightiness of their discourse.

-"In that case, ma'am…"-

In a moment that hung with palpable tension, Frank McNamara presented to Dr. Sherman the plastic bag that safeguarded the detonator discovered at Sunset Park. It was at that very site that the lifeless corpse of the enigmatic tiger had come to rest, leaving behind an enigma entwined in its wake.

-"…can you explain me why someone would go to the trouble of making a detonator with a very large button that can be pressed using the paw of a large animal, such as a tiger?"- The taller man said at the woman in a challeging tone. -"Surely you are not going to tell me that the alleged murderer was so short-sighted that he needed to make a very large button so that he could see it, are you?"-

As Dr. Claire Sherman beheld the intricate device before her, her astute gaze locked onto the oversized detonator button, bearing witness to its potential role in igniting the lethal explosives that claimed Fermi's life. While the practicality of a trained tiger manipulating such a mechanism seemed far-fetched, the doctor's logical acumen compelled her to acknowledge the plausibility, albeit with a tinge of skepticism.

Yet, the enigma deepened. The cogent challenge lay in reconciling this possibility with the absence of tangible evidence pointing to human intervention. According to the report she had received when she received the tiger's body for autopsy, the crime scene had yielded no signs of an additional presence aside from Fermi and Catherine. Furthermore, the prevailing theory proposed a timer as the catalyst for the explosion, despite the elusive remnants of such a device eluding discovery.

The presence of that detonator before her eyes completely destroyed the timer theory; at the same time, she couldn't doubt that the detonator was not activated by anyone other than the tiger, considering that McNamara had told her that the device was found in the same place where the animal's body was discovered. That only meant several things: Either those detectives were lying to her for some reason, even if they were fully aware of the consequences that would mean for their careers, or that tiger was somehow connected to Catherine Walburg's attempted murder in a way that defied all possible logic.

Confronted with the weighty evidence before her, the veterinarian clasped the bag containing the detonator, her gaze transfixed upon its ominous contents. A pregnant pause hung in the air as she meticulously examined the device, her thoughts weaving through a complex tapestry of doubts and uncertainties. Moments stretched into eternity as she pondered the enigmatic implications that unfurled before her.

Finally, a subtle transformation overcame Dr. Sherman, her initial defiance giving way to a measured contemplation. Her voice, once tinged with hostility, now adopted a tempered tone, laden with curiosity and cautious intrigue. With calculated deliberation, she chose her words for those two men in front of her.

-"I must admit, in light of what I'm witnessing,"- She began, her voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and acceptance. -"that you guys both appear to be correct. It seems that dead tiger found in Henderson was indeed responsible for eliminating the assailant who targeted that woman… but… why?"-

In the face of the woman's probing inquiry, Frank McNamara picked not to withhold the truth any longer, fully aware of the risks that came with sharing sensitive information, and, without a moment's hesitation, he resolved to disclose their true purpose, recognizing the potential consequences of speaking out of turn as a law enforcement officer.

-"Dr. Sherman…"- McNamara began his explanation to the Indianan veterinary doctor. -"…what I'm about to disclose is highly classified information that may not have been shared with you by the authorities. I understand that what I'm about to reveal could potentially put both you and us in danger; therefore, I kindly request your utmost discretion in keeping everything discussed within these walls. Can I count on your agreement, ma'am?"-

-"Huh… well…"- The woman replied with some tint of hesitation. -"…I guess I have no problem keeping a secret or two, if that helps your investigation in bringing down those responsible for all this whole mess, gentlemen. So, you can start speaking, Mr. McNamara."-

-"Thank you, doctor."-

With Dr. Sherman's agreement secured, McNamara embarked on a detailed account of the enigmatic case, delving into the depths of what transpired on that fateful day, May 10th, AD 1955 and before.

-"Before I start talking about the tiger, I first have to explain who the man was that our feline friend killed, and why he tried to kill that woman that day…"- The senior sleuth began to talk. -"Contrary to what you may have heard from the authorities, the gunman was not a mobster or a member of some criminal organization, but was in fact a terrorist wanted by all civilian and military authorities since the end of the last war. His name was Massimiliano Fermi, a former member of the Italian intelligence services during the Mussolini government, whose main objective was to eliminate enemies of the government in furtive ways."-

The revelation that the man dispatched by the tiger was not a run-of-the-mill criminal but a long-sought terrorist since the aftermath of World War II left Dr. Sherman speechless. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon her as she realized that the assailant's past affiliations with the notorious Mussolini regime painted a far more ominous picture. The implications were profound, suggesting that the entire case transcended mere surface appearances, delving into a realm of utmost seriousness.

-"Wait, you're saying he was a terrorist?!"- Dr. Sherman finally exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

-"Yeah, that's right."- Miller also participated in the talk. -"The man that tiger killed had already taken many lives since the end of the war, and was a terrorist for hire, ready to offer his services to the highest bidder."-

-"But… who was he working for then?"- The woman asked for an explanation.

At the questioning conducted by the Indiana veterinarian, both detectives shook their heads in a solemn denial.

-"Doctor, that's a question that has been haunting us as well."- McNamara responded to Dr. Sherman, his voice filled with conviction. -"However, one thing we can state with absolute certainty is that the Soviets are not involved in this. No doubt about it."-

The notion that the Soviet government could be responsible for the assassination attempt on Catherine Walburg and Fermi's death had never crossed Dr. Sherman's mind. However, given the turbulent climate of the mid-1950s, where the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States raged on, she couldn't dismiss the possibility entirely. During those times, suspicions of Russian agents infiltrating American soil had reached a fever pitch, stirring paranoia among citizens and government officials alike.

The absence of Soviet involvement in the recent string of horrific events five days ago, for once, led Dr. Sherman to believe that there could be another party responsible. The thought gnawed at her, urging her to seek answers from the two detectives seated in her office without delay.

-"Then…"- The woman questioned the sleuths. -"…do you two have any idea who might have been behind it all that crimes?"-

-"Unfortunately, Dr. Sherman,"- Miller answered the question done by the veterinarian. -"we cannot share our suspicions with you, for security reasons, as well as your own. We would not want other people outside this case to be involved, considering what we are going to share with you about what Fermi did here in America…"-

-"Did he commit other murders other than trying to kill that woman?"-

The shorter sleuth paused, inhaling deeply, gathering his thoughts before addressing the question presented by the female veterinarian. With a steady voice, he began to speak.

-"To say that our Italian friend was involved in more than just the attempted murder of that woman would be an understatement, Dr. Sherman…"- Miller's tone grew more serious as he responded to Dr. Sherman. -"That man was involved in a string of crimes and orchestrated attacks against the citizens of this country, and his deeds extended even to the elimination of a Danish individual with intimate ties to one of those incidents, ensuring no one would challenge the official narrative of the events I am about to unveil to you, doctor."-

The woman, disturbed by the nature of those statements, did not hesitate to ask Douglas Miller what he knew about the matter.

-"May I know what that Fermi person did, Mr. Miller?"-

-"I presume you're aware of the incident several months ago involving the explosion of a DC-3 aircraft carrying an American family from El Paso, Texas, en route to London near the coast of Iceland?"-

The doctor tried to recall that incident, and immediately after, she responded to the detective.

-"If I remember correctly, I recall hearing about that accident on the radio…"- The woman replied him. -"But… don't tell that man was behind that accident, right?"-

With a nod, the New York detective confirmed the question, unfortunately confirming the veterinarian's suspicion.

-"I regret to inform you that is the case, ma'am."- Miller said in a sad tone. -"Everything seems to indicate that Fermi somehow sabotaged that plane in order to eliminate one of his victims, a scientist working for the army, along with his entire family."-

-"And that's not all, doctor..."- Interrupting Miller, McNamara's voice filled the room once again, his tone grave and filled with unsettling revelations. -"According to information we managed to get from our own means, this guy may have murdered a mechanic who suspected that the crashed plane had been rigged, in order to prevent him from informing the authorities about his suspicions about it, especially considering that he begged the captain of the plane to allow him to check the DC-3's engines in detail before it made its next stop in Iceland, to no avail."-

The veterinarian stood frozen, her eyes widening with a mixture of shock and horror. The revelations surrounding Fermi's potential involvement in the DC-3 attack, which claimed the lives of Dr. Richard Mason and his family, sent shivers down her spine; it was a chilling realization that the man described by McNamara and Miller had no boundaries when it came to criminal acts. The sabotage of that airplane and the calculated elimination of targets seemed to be part of his twisted repertoire, and even those remotely connected to the case, like the Danish mechanic Simon Pallensen who meticulously inspected the DC-3's engines in Greenland, were not spared from him.

-"No… this is… this is so terrible, for god's sake…"- The woman responded in utter shock, knowing that the man who had died five days earlier was an extremely dangerous man, capable of committing that and many more crimes in order to eliminate any potential target, and make them look like accidents. -"That man and his family… killed in an airplane crash… by that… monster… no…"-

The detectives, seeing the woman's face, tried to console her in light of the nature of the revelations they had described a few minutes earlier.

-"We're sorry you had to hear this, Dr. Sherman,"- McNamara talked first, using a soft voice at the veterinarian woman. -"but it was the only way for you to get the full picture of the whole thing, and to see what kind of person Fermi was, as well as what we were dealing with."-

-"And… If only we could have apprehended him before he set foot on American soil, perhaps all of this could have been prevented."- Miller's pained tone, complimenting his partner's response, mirrored the weight of their collective hindsight, acknowledging the missed opportunity that now plagued their thoughts.

-"And that's all we can tell you about Fermi, doctor..."- McNamara concluded. -"We can said for sure that he also carried out other crimes here in America related to what happened on the 10th, but, as we said before, we will withhold that information to you, for your safety and ours as well."-

Dr. Sherman, her eyes brimming with tears, gently removed her glasses, allowing herself a brief respite from the weight of the revelations. The knowledge that the man who had targeted Catherine had also unleashed destruction upon Dr. Mason and his family, along with the untold victims like Simon Pallensen, weighed heavily upon her. McNamara and Miller had deliberately omitted mentioning the others who had fallen victim to Fermi's ruthless spree: Dr. Larkin, his own father, Major Fitzroy, and the ill-fated mechanic who had unwittingly aided Fermi in his sinister plans, only to meet their own tragic ends before Fermi could reach Evansville.

-"Doctor, we understand the distressing nature of this revelation regarding Fermi's true identity as a heinous terrorist. However, it's crucial to point that he wasn't acting alone."- Miller explained to the veterinarian about who could be the responsable behind those crimes. -"There were someone or some kind of group who orchestrated these crimes, paying Fermi to carry them out and carefully staging them to appear as accidents."-

The woman, once she regained her composure, asked the two New York detectives a question.

-"Have you two any idea who might be behind all this?"-

-"As already mentioned, for our safety and yours, we cannot disclose that information, doctor."- Frank McNamara responded to the doctor. -"However, there is something you can help us with…"-

The veterinary doctor's curiosity was piqued, eager to learn how she could lend a hand to the detectives in their investigation.

-"And what would you need from me, Mr. McNamara?"-

-"Firstly, we would appreciate it if you could accompany us to the zoo morgue, since it is crucial for us to examine the tiger's body firsthand, as there might be valuable clues that could aid our investigation,"- McNamara explained. -"Additionally, if the tiger has not been autopsied yet, we would greatly benefit from any medical information or findings regarding the animal's body thus far."-

Miller, for his part, tacked on something extra to his partner's request.

-"I assume that the tiger hasn't undergone an autopsy yet, right?"-

In response to the detectives' questions, Claire Sherman answered each of them with a certain amount of promptness.

-"Well… regarding going to the morgue, I suppose I can help you with that, since I have the clearance to enter the place, and I can grant you gentlemen permission to accompany me inside."- The doctor quickly responded. -"Regarding the autopsy, we haven't performed any procedures on the tiger yet. Given the animal was starting to rot due to the heat, we only had time to conduct a brief toxicology analysis, and once we collected blood and other fluids for further examination, we promptly placed the body in the refrigerator to prevent further decay."-

Realizing that Dr. Sherman was fully cooperative and committed to assisting them, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller concluded that it was imperative to act swiftly.

-"So, shall we head to the morgue now?"- Miller asked the woman.

-"Well, have no pressing matters at the moment, so I can accompany you whenever you're ready, gentlemen."-

-"Excellent. Then, let's go to the morgue straight away."- McNamara agreed with Dr. Sherman and his partner.

-"Agreed. I just need to look for my ID to get in, gentlemen, and we'll leave right away. Is that okay with you?"-

-"No problem, doctor. We are in no hurry, so please take your time."- The taller sleuth replied at the veterinarian.

-"Thank you, Mr. McNamara!"-

With her ID in hand, Dr. Claire Sherman joined the two detectives, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller, as they left the confines of the veterinarian's office. The urgency of their mission propelled them towards the zoo's morgue, where the lifeless body of the tiger discovered in Henderson awaited their examination. Within the depths of that deceased feline lay the potential for vital clues, the missing pieces that could unravel the enigma surrounding the demise of the Italian terrorist and the intricate web woven by the events that had unfolded merely five days prior.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Zoo Veterinary Hospital/Outside of the Morgue), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 6:32 PM

A few minutes after leaving the office, Dr. Sherman, along with detectives working for the New York Police Department, were in front of the Mesker Park Zoo morgue, where dead animals were lying in coolers to be autopsied before proper burial or cremation.

In the same place was the corpse of the mysterious tiger found five days ago and which was also linked to the death of Massimiliano Fermi, a terrorist who had attempted to assassinate Catherine Walburg, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake by sabotaging the gas furnace within her abode, claiming the lives of her unfortunate companions, who were her friends: Serena Kendrick and Alena McWild.

But before entering, the three characters had to deal with an obstacle, which was one of the guards protecting the entrance of the place. But, being Dr. Sherman a routine visitor to the morgue, the private security guard had no problem in letting the doctor enter the premises.

-"Oh! Good afternoon, Dr. Sherman! What brings you to the morgue at this hour?"- The guard greeted with a curious glint in his eyes, accompanied by a touch of playful banter. -"You don't normally come here before the zoo closes unless it's an emergency. Care to share the juicy details?"-

-"Hi, Claude."- The woman called the guard by his name. -"I need to enter the morgue to do some body analysis on one of the bodies before returning home, aside of other matters, if you know my drill…"-

-"I see…"- The security guard replied, and then he noticed McNamara and Miller, who were outsiders to the zoo, and who, by general rules, were not allowed to enter the morgue. -"And, if may I ask, who are these two gentlemen with you, doctor?"-

Dr. Sherman had to come up with a good excuse so that the guard would not suspect the two detectives accompanying her.

-"You see, Claude…"- The woman explained Claude. -" They've following me today because we suspect that a deceased animal found here might have belonged to their facility, so I've promised them the opportunity to verify its presence in the morgue."-

-"Oh, I get it, doctor!"- The guard responded favorably to the explanation given by the veterinarian. -"In that case, you and your companions are welcome to enter at any time."-

-"Thanks, Claude."-

The two detectives, assuming the roles of animal shelter owners, expressed their gratitude to Claude; with the guard's suspicions allayed, they, along with Dr. Sherman, stepped into the zoo morgue, gaining access to an area typically reserved exclusively for zoo personnel.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (Zoo Veterinary Hospital/Morgue), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 6:40 PM

In stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the zoo, the morgue stood as a chilling and somber realm, its purpose evident in the air. While intended for deceased animals, it emanated a coldness that seeped into the bones, serving as a temporary resting place where lifeless creatures lay within refrigerated units. Here, zoo doctors would conduct autopsies and thorough examinations to unravel the mysteries surrounding the animals' demise, paving the way for their subsequent burial or cremation.

Even for hardened investigators like the two seasoned New York agents, no strangers to encountering lifeless bodies in the line of duty, stepping into the morgue, regardless of the deceased being animals, proved to be a disconcerting and macabre experience. Evident upon their faces was a mixture of unease and a touch of revulsion as they ventured further into that place.

As they walked deep inside that morgue, the detectives could smell the unmistakable odor of death. The air was thick with the scent of formaldehyde and other chemicals used to preserve the bodies, and the detectives could also hear the low hum of the refrigerators, and the occasional drip of water from a leaky pipe.

By contrast, Claire Sherman, who was more than used to working in that place by nature as a veterinary doctor, found it odd that those law enforcement officers felt uncomfortable being in a morgue, even if it was one meant for animals.

-"Forgive me if I sound insensitive, but don't tell me you two haven't gone into a morgue before, have you?"-

-"Well… huh…"- McNamara tried to excuse himself at the doctor for his frighted behavior. -"We've been in these places before, of course, but... even for us, being detectives, it's still unpleasant to be in a morgue..."-

-"You know…"- Miller also explained his attitude at the current predicament as well. -"It is not pleasant for anyone to have to see corpses, be they animals, humans or whatever... and believe us, we have witnessed nastier stuff in our line of work, doctor."-

The veterinarian, upon seeing the detectives' uncomfortable demeanor, couldn't help but smile as she noticed that those two men, despite their unfriendly appearance, were actually very sentimental individuals, which was unusual for police officers or detectives accustomed to dealing with violent people and events.

-"I must admit, it's quite unusual to hear such sentiments from law enforcement agents. In my experience, most police officers I've encountered have become desensitized to these sights. It's intriguing to see that you find being in a morgue uncomfortable."- Dr. Sherman responded to the detectives with a slight hint of amusement in her voice.

-"Well… at least I have an excuse for that, doctor."- McNamara explained his reasons for disliking morgues. -"I fought in the last war, in Europe to be more exact... and believe me, without going too deeply into the matter, that I have seen things that would horrify any human being, including professional criminals."-

Upon learning about Frank McNamara's wartime experiences on the European front during World War II, Dr. Sherman couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt wash over her. It dawned on her that her inquiry about their discomfort in the morgue might have triggered painful memories for the detective, who had endured unimaginable hardships, including surviving a concentration camp in Poland.

-"I'm… I'm sorry if I acted a bit snarky about your dislike of being in morgues, Mr. McNamara..."- The woman apologized at the taller man. -"I didn't know that you fought in the war..."-

-"Nah, it's okay, doctor."- McNamara tried not to put too much weight on the matter, knowing that the doctor had no ill intentions. -"That is one of my many demons that I have not yet been able to drive away completely… sigh… and I believe you will understand the reason."-

-"I understand, sir..."- Dr. Sherman also gave some pieces of information about her family. -"…my father also fought in the war, although he was in the Pacific, digging trenches in the Philippines. He didn't see much action there, to be honest, and had to return to America because he got sick with malaria, and by the time he got better, the war was over."-

Miller, listening to the conversation between the woman and his partner, also wanted to give his reasons for not visiting morgues as well, even though his work sometimes required it.

-"Looks like you two have a lot in common regarding the last war."- And then, he added the following. -"And… for my part, I am not a keen visitor to these places either. Partly because I am not exactly morbid about seeing corpses, and partly due to religious reasons... if you get my drift, ma'am"-

The veterinarian, attuned to the subtle hint dropped by the medium-sized detective, leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a hushed tone as she pieced together the implication behind Miller's words.

-"Are you a… Jew?"-

The detective quickly looked into the woman's eyes, fearing the worst.

-"Do you have a problem with that?"-

-"Of course not!"- The veterinary doctor reacted with some displeasure, feeling offended. -"I'm not prejudiced at all; I just asked out of curiosity, nothing more."-

Seeing that Dr. Sherman really had no intention of inquiring further about Douglas Miller's Jewish origins, and that her question was simply out of curiosity, with no racist intentions, the man was relieved to hear that. The last thing he needed was to have to deal with another bigot in his face, especially in a critical situation like that moment.

-"Good to hear that, ma'am,"- Miller replied with a serious expression in his face. -"because I just dealt with an employee of this place minutes ago who treated me like shit precisely because I was Jewish..."-

-"Oh, I see…"- The doctor in charge of animal health at the zoo was mortified to learn that one of the zoo's employees treated Miller poorly for that reason. "Sorry to hear that, Mr. Miller."-

-"It's not your fault, doctor... although I think you guys should be more careful about the people you hire here."-

-"Yeah… tell me about it."- The woman responded with a tint of snide. -"…although that's something the zoo management should deal with these days, in all honesty with you, Mr. Miller."-

-"Sorry to cut your talk short, ladies and gentlemen, but aren't we supposed to be looking for the location of that tiger's corpse?"- McNamara, in a mocking tone, interjected the exchange between his partner and the veterinarian.

Seeing that his partner was right to interrupt him, Miller offered an apology.

-"Oh…! Sorry, buddy, hehehe!"- The shorter man said in a humble, but cheerful manner. -"Nerves made me talk too much… you know… being in a morgue and all…"-

For her part, Dr. Sherman also opted to change the subject and cut to the chase.

-"Concerning what you are looking for, the tiger is right down there."- The woman then pointed to the refrigerator where the tiger's corpse was lying, which was four cells away from where they were standing.

-"Good."- McNamara said with some readiness, knowing that the tiger was right in front of them. -"Let's go find him then."-

And without wasting any more time, Frank McNamara, Douglas Miller, and their companion, Dr. Claire Sherman, walked to the storage cubicle where the refrigerator containing the tiger's mortal remains was located. Once there, it was now a matter of the veterinarian to open the refrigerator and remove the animal's corpse from inside, but not before giving a warning.

-"I'm going to need your help to move the tiger to the stretcher, gentlemen. As you know, this animal is very heavy, and I can't lift it by myself without help. Think you can do it?"

-"Well,"- Miller accepted to help Dr. Sherman. -"I guess there is no problem with that, doctor. We have some experience handling some heavy stuff already."-

-"Yeah,"- McNamara also responded, but with some uncalled-for moodiness for that moment. -"assuming our feline was not into some kind of diet before he kicked the bucket."-

Both the doctor and Miller exchanged a look of annoyance and derision upon hearing McNamara's ill-timed joke.

-"Very funny…"- The shorter sleuth said with some sarcasm painted in his voice.

McNamara simply shrugged and grinned.

-"Well, just saying, Miller."-

Meanwhile, the doctor took out of her pocket a key ring with many of them and she began to look for one in particular.

-"Let me find the key that opens this fridge, gentlemen."-

Once the woman found the key that opened the refrigerator, she began to use it to open the cabinet containing the body of the feline that had died five days prior.

-"Stand back, I need room to open the entire cabinet."-

-"Yes, ma'am."- Both men replied on unison.

With a swift turn of the key, Dr. Sherman unlocked the refrigerator and swung open the door. The anticipation hung thick in the air as she reached inside, her objective clear: retrieving the lifeless body of the tiger. That feline cadaver held the answers they sought, the crucial link to unravel the mystery surrounding Fermi's demise, and it was a pivotal piece in determining whether the Italian terrorist acted as a lone wolf or carried out his deeds at the behest of another person or group.

But, as Dr. Sherman extended her arm into the opened refrigerator, her fingers gripped empty space; a sense of bewilderment washed over her as she stared into the vacant enclosure. The expected weight of the tiger's body was absent, leaving an unsettling void.

-"Wait a minute…"- And then, she cursed aloud. -"What the hell…?!"-

Her eyes widened with disbelief, and she turned to McNamara and Miller, their expressions mirroring her astonishment. The realization dawned upon them simultaneously— the tiger was missing. Someone else had removed the crucial piece of evidence they had come to retrieve.

-"Hey, doctor,"- McNamara was the first to speak out in the face of the stark facts in front of him and his partner. -"There don't seem to be any tigers in this chiller, from what we're seeing."

Dr. Sherman's brows furrowed with worry and frustration as she addressed the perplexed detectives. Her voice carried a tinge of disappointment, tinged with urgency.

-"Gentlemen,"- She began, her tone betraying her worry. -"I assure you that the tiger should have been here… sigh… I personally oversaw its placement in the morgue refrigerator after the initial examination; in fact, I was the one who closed this thing today in the morning after extracting a blood sample from his body…"-

Miller, hearing that the woman was absolutely certain that the animal was in the refrigerator that day, raised a question about the matter.

-"Other than yourself,"- The shorter New Yorker asked. -"is anyone else able to access the refrigerators?"-

Dr. Sherman's expression shifted from concern to a mix of frustration and confusion as she addressed Miller's question.

-"Well, it's worth noting that the director and assistant director of the zoo have master keys to the morgue and refrigerators," she replied, her tone laced with a touch of exasperation. -"But… Why nobody told me that first? Since I am the person in charge of the morgue, I should be the first person to know if an animal is going to be hauled from one place to another."-

-"Why don't you call with one of them and ask them if they know where the body was taken?"- Miller said.

-"Good idea. I will talk with the director first."-

-"How?"- McNamara also asked, knowing that they might have to wait elsewhere if the veterinarian had to go to the zoo's management to speak to her boss. -"You don't want us to go with you to talk with the director, do you?"-

-"There's no need for that,"- She responded firmly. "Right here in the morgue, we have a direct line to the zoo's management, and I can contact the director directly. Since he the owner, he holds the authority to authorize the relocation of an animal to another refrigerator or any other area within the zoo."-

-"Good idea."- Miller responded with some haste. -"In that case, go talk to the director, and ask him if that body was moved to another place, ma'am."-

-"Right away!"-

Without further ado, Claire Sherman went to the morgue phone and dialed the extension number that directed the call to the zoo director's office, the only person besides the doctor who knew where the feline's body might be. Immediately thereafter, and, while it is not known what Dr. Sherman was talking about at the time, it was clear that she was talking to the secretary in charge of managing outside calls before they reached the zoo director's ears.

-"Hello?"- The woman said. -"I'm Claire Sherman, from the morgue. Can I speak with the director, please?"-

It was evident, from the expression on the doctor's face, that the director's secretary had no problem putting the call through to him.

-"Oh, thank you, Carole!"-

After a few seconds on hold, the veterinarian got through to the zoo director, who had no concern talking to the doctor about her concerns. Throughout the conversation, McNamara and Miller were a few steps away from the woman so that none of the people Dr. Sherman was talking to would be aware that she was not alone.

-"Hello?"- The doctor said at her senior. "This is Dr. Claire Sherman speaking… I have to ask you a question, sir... During a routine check at the morgue, I noticed that the dead tiger found in Henderson a few days ago is not in its cooler… As I remember, that animal was there this morning, so I want to know if it was moved to another cooler or somewhere else…"-

After a few minutes on the phone, the woman's face suddenly changed to an expression of shock at the answer she received from her boss regarding the whereabouts of the tiger carcass.

-"Wai– WAIT A MINUTE, SIR!"- The woman replied aloud, completely stunned by what she had just heard from her superior's mouth. -"What do you mean they took the corpse out of the zoo?"-

Another few minutes passed; the zoo director was giving her the exact details of what had happened to the dead tiger and who had retrieved it from Mesker Park Zoo, without Dr. Sherman's notice.

-"And why didn't anyone inform me that they were going to take it away, huh?"-

More answers from the zoo director. The woman's face showed disgust and anger, seeing that something did not seem to be right in the whole picture, even if the zoo director was in his authority not to ask the doctor's opinion for the animal to be taken out from the place.

-"So, they told you that they were in a hurry… I see…"- Claire Sherman asked more questions. -"I assume they did show their IDs to you, didn't they?"-

After hearing her interlocutor's response, she replied, still visibly miffed at what she had just heard.

-"Listen, I understand that they have the authority to take action if they deem it necessary, but… wasn't the case of the tiger supposed to be completely unrelated to the Italian gunman? I'm assuming they removed the tiger for that reason, am I correct?"-

The veterinarian listened to her superior's justifications, but she knew that there was nothing she could do, outside hearing her boss. One thing was obvious from the woman's tone of voice: The situation was not to the liking of both Dr. Sherman and the zoo's management, and the implications of a dead animal being removed from the premises without a judge's order were not lost on them.

-"Yes, I understand, sir... I guess you're just as baffled about this as I am, right?"-

The zoo director spoke for a few more minutes, presumably to conclude the conversation, which the doctor also wanted to end.

-"Okay, I will talk with you in person tomorrow about this… Bye."-

Afterward, the woman hung up the phone, then she looked at the two detectives who were in front of her, both leaning on a table, and waiting for her to finish talking. There had been an abrupt turn of events, and it was her duty to inform the law enforcement officials of her own boss's words.

And they also seemed to know that something wasn't quite right…

-"Something wrong, doctor?"- Miller was the first to ask. -"Sounds like something might have happened to that tiger's corpse, as I've just heard..."

Dr. Sherman took a deep breath, and she outlined the crux of the matter to the two detectives.

-"The corpse was taken out of the zoo, gentlemen…"- And then, she explained the rest of the details. -"According to the director, two men claiming to be federal agents approached him. They did not disclose their agency or present any court order, but insisted that the federal government would handle the investigation independently, bypassing the city government."-

Hearing that men supposedly working for the U.S. government had possibly taken the tiger carcass from the zoo for some reason, McNamara and Miller couldn't help but widen their eyes as wide as they could.

If the official version of events stated from the start that the tiger had nothing to do with Fermi's death, other than that it died of natural causes a few steps away from where the Italian terrorist lost his life, why was the government so interested in taking it away? Did they also know from the start that the tiger was the one who killed Fermi by using a remote detonator to set off the explosives in his car?

Had that been the case, surely the government knew something about Fermi's case, and they were trying to eliminate any leads that might link the animal to the death of the man who tried to kill Catherine Walburg.

Two things was certain for both New Yorkers:

There was someone inside the government who wanted not only to see Miss Walburg dead, but also anyone associated with her, including her boss, U.S. Army Major Matthew Fitzroy, doctors Richard Mason and Nick Larkin, and their families included.

Likewise, Maj. Fitzroy obviously was not behind such events because Fermi targeted him as well, including his secretary, the already mentioned Catherine.

Unfortunately, they couldn't tell her what they suspected; ever since they started that case in New York, after the double murder of Dr. Larkin and his father, they had been walking on thin ice. Someone, probably Fermi, had rigged the elder Larkin's oven to blow them up. And now, with the two men passing for government workers taking the tiger and the body count of incidental, innocent people rising, they knew they were dealing with a conspiracy that went deeper than they imagined. Whoever was behind this would stop at nothing to silence anyone who got too close to the truth.

-"We have to go, Miller."-

-"Agreed with ya, buddy…"-

But, before McNamara and Miller could make their exit from the morgue and bid farewell to the zoo, Dr. Sherman halted their departure with an unwavering determination. She demanded an explanation, refusing to let them slip away without shedding light on their intentions and leaving her in the dark.

-"Where the hell are you guys off to without telling me anything else?"-

Noting that the woman wanted an explanation, McNamara was the first to give her one, but not before giving her a warning.

-"Look, doctor, we have to leave this place. If we stay any longer, we could put you and any associates of yours in danger…"- The taller sleuth said at her aloud. -"Under no circumstances tell anyone, not even your friends, acquaintances or family, that you spoke to us; we don't want you to end up like the woman that Italian guy wanted to kill five days ago."-

The veterinarian's eyes widened in shock as she grasped the enormity of the crisis unfolding before her. It became apparent that the orchestrator behind both Fermi's actions and the sudden disappearance of the tiger, now in the hands of unidentified government agents, was determined to leave no witnesses or traces behind; the events of the past week had taken a dangerous turn, with a relentless pursuit of secrecy and a clear intent to cover their tracks at any cost, including eliminating anyone who could know a thing about them or the whole case the New Yorkers were investigating since months ago.

-"O–Okay, Mr. McNamara… I wouldn't say anything with anyone else…"-

Before both detectives left, Miller pulled a business card from his wallet and gave it to her…

-"Feel free to call us at this number if you have a problem related to this, or if you know anything else you can share with us, and we will see what we can do."-

-"Understood."- The woman took Miller's business card with some trepidation and reluctance. -"I will do it."-

-"Well, if you'll excuse us, we have to go."- The shorter man concluded his talk. -"And by the way, thanks for your help, and just keep in mind what we told you about discussing this with someone else."-

-"Ok, I will keep that in mind. Good luck to you two, gentlemen, and godspeed!"-

With a sense of urgency, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller swiftly exited the morgue and they made their way to the zoo parking lot, where Lieutenant Lance Ainsworth awaited their arrival. Time was of the essence, and they understood the gravity of the situation, since any conversations with anyone unrelated to the case could put lives at risk, just as Catherine Walburg's had been; the detectives knew they had to proceed with caution, protecting both their own lives and those who unknowingly held fragments of the dangerous truth.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Park Zoo (parking lot), Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 7:00 PM

While all this was going on, Lieutenant Lance Ainsworth was standing outside the detectives' car, which was parked in the zoo's parking lot. At that moment, he indulged in a ham and chicken sub sandwich, relishing each bite, while a refreshing root beer float offered a momentary respite.

However, his tranquility was short-lived as he noticed his two partner detectives, McNamara and Miller, hurrying toward the vehicle, which caused the officer some concern.

-"What's wrong, folks?"-

The two detectives didn't have time to explain themselves to their policeman partner, however, and McNamara was the first to curtly speak to him.

-"Get in the car, officer."- The taller New Yorker said. -"We have to leave now."-

Without wasting a moment, Lieutenant Ainsworth swiftly followed suit, sliding into the car alongside his partners. He made a valiant attempt to bring everything with him, including the half-finished sandwich and the remnants of his root beer, deftly maneuvering to keep it all intact as McNamara and Miller reentered the vehicle.

With all three men now inside the car, McNamara took the driver's seat and wasted no time. The engine roared to life as he skillfully maneuvered the car, a 1955 Chrysler 300, into reverse. The sleek vehicle glided backward and then smoothly transitioned onto the road leading to Evansville.

And while the vehicle was on the road, Lance Ainsworth, completely dumbfounded, had many questions to ask those detectives, for both had left the zoo as if something terrible happened to force the sleuths to leave the place.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Mesker Dr., Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 7:15 PM

-"Can someone explain me what the hell is going on here, gentlemen?!"- Lance demanded an explanation, starting with McNamara, the driver of the vehicle. -"You two look like you've seen some horrible stuff inside the zoo or something."-

-"The tiger is not in the zoo, Lt. Ainsworth."- The taller sleuth retorted, without losing his sights on the road. -"Two people took the body out of the zoo morgue and brought it out of the city."-

The policeman, for obvious reasons, could not hide his outrage at such news, in view of what that turn of events implied.

-"Wha– WHAAAT?!"- Lance yelled aloud. -"Bu– but… how on earth could that have happened? The only people with the authority to extract the body from there are either local or federal authorities armed with a court order, and, to the best of my knowledge, there have been no such plans to relocate the corpse!"-

-"According to what we were told at the zoo, the guys who removed the body identified themselves as men who worked for the government."- Miller also explained to Lance what they learned during their time in the zoo. -"They did not say what branch of the government they were working for, but they informed the zoo director that the government would be in charge of the investigations related to the tiger, and that is why they took that animal's corpse."-

The detective's response left Lance dumbfounded, and rightfully so. Up until that moment, all signs pointed to the deaths of the tiger and Fermi, along with the presence of the untamed feline in a quiet Midwestern suburb, being unrelated events… a mere bizarre coincidence.

However, the revelation that individuals purporting to be federal authorities had absconded with the animal's carcass for analysis suggested otherwise. Not only did it lend credence to the theory that the tiger had been trained to manipulate the detonator and eliminate the terrorist, but it also hinted at a deeper connection within the government itself.

Perhaps there existed a shadowy figure within the ranks of the government orchestrating the assassination attempt on Catherine Walburg, employing an intermediary to carry out the act, while employing an entirely unconventional method, an expertly trained tiger, to silence Fermi and ensure his silence about the true mastermind behind it all.

Simultaneously, those responsible for the tiger's involvement had foreseen its limited lifespan, ensuring that it would not survive long enough for anyone to discover it alive. By orchestrating its presence in Henderson, it appeared as a mere coincidence that the feline would pass away peacefully in the park adjoining the site of Fermi's demise. This calculated move aimed to mislead both the local authorities and the unsuspecting public, diverting attention away from the truth behind its connection to the events and allowing the illusion of happenstance to persist undisturbed.

One thing became abundantly clear: Any notion suggesting the involvement of the then Soviet Union or any other foreign government, for that matter, had been firmly dismissed. The unfolding events bore the distinct marks of a carefully orchestrated conspiracy, leaving little room for doubt.

-"That means…"- The policeman, trying to assimilate all the information coming in from his colleagues from New York, only could react as follows. -"…somebody within the government wants Catherine dead?"-

As he drove, Frank McNamara answered Lance's question rather warily.

-"That is one possibility… but that Italian guy was behind several events prior to what happened on the 10th, and all indicates that someone within this country hired him, and wants to see both Miss Walburg and all her people five feet under…"-

-"Which begs the next question… what would have caused someone to want to kill that woman and her associates?"- Miller followed suit, while being next to his partner. -"Did she, her boss and all those people that Fermi fellow killed have something to do with the person who ordered their deaths?"-

-"I would not be that surprised if that were the case, guys."- Lance Ainsworth responded, still with some trepidation. -"Catherine works for the military as a secretary in Texas, and, as I understand it, she worked at a base where top-secret research is conducted. Of course, she doesn't talk about exactly what she does there, so maybe someone is taking full advantage of that to get rid of her without raising too much suspicion."-

Immediately, Miller asked Lt. Ainsworth regarding that part about Catherine Walburg.

-"Do you know if Ms. Walburg has talked to you or her family about her coworkers or anything of that sort?"-

-"Nope."- Lance denied such a thing. -"Catherine usually doesn't talk about anything she sees in her work, not even in a very direct way. Also, since she is always out of town, we don't always have the chance to chat extensively, until just recently since the 10th."-

Faced with evidence that Catherine, and anyone directly or indirectly involved with her, was working in the U.S. Army on some sort of classified project, McNamara, without taking his eyes off the road, weighed in on the subject.

-"Well, whatever your friend is doing down in Texas, it must be something very delicate, which is why someone wants to silence her no matter what, to the extent of sending in a dangerous terrorist to kill her…"-

Inside the detectives' car, the conversation continued as they grappled with the mounting questions and uncertainties surrounding Catherine Walburg's predicament. The realization that she was involved in classified military work added an even deeper layer of complexity to the case.

But before the conversation could continue, McNamara noticed something strange in the car's rearview mirror. The first thing he saw was that a black-painted sports car had been tracking them suspiciously and steadily for several minutes in the same lane on the highway.

With the sun setting on the horizon, he could not see very clearly who the passengers in the car were, but he did see two important features: The first was that there were three people in the mysterious car, and the second was that the men were dressed in black.

-"Miller…"-

-"What's wrong?"- The mid-sized sniffer questioned when he saw that his friend's tone had changed from friendly to abrasive, implying that danger lurked over their heads.

-"Someone is tailing us…"-

-"Huh?"-

Quickly, Miller tried to turn his head to see what his partner was looking at in the rearview mirror, but McNamara, without losing his temper, issued a straight warning.

-"Don't do it…! Just act like we didn't know we already saw those chumps…"-

-"Understood…"-

As the tension within the vehicle mounted, Lieutenant Lance Ainsworth glanced at his two partners, McNamara and Miller, their expressions etched with worry and caution. Sensing that something was amiss, he couldn't help but voice his concern, unaware of the ominous presence trailing them just a few meters behind.

-"Alright, guys, what's going on?"- Lance's voice carried a mix of curiosity and unease. His gaze shifted between the detectives, hoping for an explanation that would shed light on the disquiet that permeated the car.

-"That strange car has been on our tail for a couple of minutes now,"- McNamara explained, without turning his head to the police officer -"and I'm pretty sure it can't be a coincidence..."-

With a flicker of concern in his eyes, Lance Ainsworth mirrored Miller's cautious avoidance of the rearview mirror. But as the miles stretched out before them, Lance couldn't dismiss the gravity of the situation. He had no reason to doubt the words of his New York counterpart, McNamara. The detective's intuition had honed in on the unsettling reality that the car tailing them harbored nefarious intentions, lurking in the same lane, an unwavering shadow tracing their every maneuver, biding its time for the opportune moment to react.

-"Do you think they are…?"-

-"I don't know…"- McNamara again replied, while interrupting the policeman.

In that decisive moment, the seasoned detective, an ex-war veteran, discreetly reached into his jacket pocket, ensuring that his trusted Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolver rested securely within his grasp. A flicker of determination glinted in his eyes as he confirmed the presence of his trusted ally, a formidable weapon that had weathered countless battles by his side.

Beside him, Miller, his partner, mirrored the covert gesture, his hand instinctively finding solace in the weight of his own revolver. Silently, he deftly loaded each bullet, methodically preparing himself for the unknown.

-"...and we'd better get ready for whatever it takes."-

The actions of the two men alarmed Lieutenant Ainsworth, and with good reason: Being off-duty and not expecting things to escalate to that extent, he had not brought his own service weapon with him, leaving him completely defenseless in the event of a life-threatening situation. Quite a lot, considering that the occupants of the chasing unidentified vehicle also consisted of three men, and it was likely that all of them were armed.

-"Huh… guys…"- Lance spoke to his companions in a nervous, stammering manner, knowing that things were on the verge of an escalation. -"I just remind you folks that I don't have a–"-

But before Lance could make it clear that he had no way of defending himself, McNamara, with his eyes glued to the rearview mirror, saw the situation take an unexpected turn…

-"Huh?!"-

Just as there were no other vehicles on the highway except McNamara and Miller's car and the black sports car, the occupants of the latter, all without batting an eye, drew their guns and pointed them at the detectives' car…

-"GET DOWN!"-

In a matter of seconds, the assailants within the black vehicle unleashed a hail of bullets from their Tommy guns, mercilessly showering the New York detectives' Chrysler 300 with a deadly storm of lead. Their intentions were clear – these ruthless men had meticulously trailed the law enforcement officers, intending to kill them in a lonely road, and so, avoiding any potential witnesses.

-"OH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!"-

Cursing the fates, McNamara gritted his teeth and fought to maintain control of the car, deftly swerving and maneuvering in a desperate bid to evade the relentless barrage of bullets unleashed by the attackers in the black car. Meanwhile, Miller, seated in the front passenger seat, unleashed a rapid succession of shots from his revolver, hoping that one would find its mark and disable their assailants.

In the backseat, Lance Ainsworth found himself defenseless, his heart pounding in his chest. With no means to retaliate, he crouched low on the floor, seeking refuge from the violent chaos unfolding around them.

On the other hand, the darkened car, its occupants hidden from view, pursued the detectives with relentless determination. They knew that the New Yorkers were armed with revolvers, while they were armed with machine guns. This gave them a significant advantage in firepower, and they were determined to use it to their fullest advantage. They wanted to annihilate the lawmen as quickly as possible, before they had a chance to escape.

-"FLOOR THAT DAMN GAS PEDAL, MCNAMARA!"- Miller yelled at his partner, as he continued to fire at the black car. -"We need to head to the city, so we can lose them and FAST!"-

-"I'M TRYING, I'M TRYING, DAMMIT!"-

And at that point, the chase became a deadly game of cat and mouse. The black car's occupants had one goal: to put McNamara, Miller, and Lt. Ainsworth in the ground. The detectives and their police pal had to use all their skills and instincts to survive, as they swerved and ducked to avoid the flying lead. McNamara drove like a madman, cutting through the traffic and making turns that defied physics, but the black car wouldn't let up, matching their every move. The detectives felt the clock ticking, and the pressure mounting; they needed a plan… or a miracle…

Meanwhile, as the minutes ticked by and the exchange of gunfire continued, the three men couldn't help but wonder about the motives driving their pursuers: What did they want? And, more importantly, how far were they willing to go to eliminate them?

The only thing that was certain was that these men and their vehicle came out of nowhere the moment they left the zoo, which meant that they had something to do with the case that McNamara and Miller had been chasing since they arrived in Evansville, involving the deaths of Dr. Mason, Dr. Larkin, and various members of their respective families, as well as anyone related to all of them, such as Catherine Walburg, Massimiliano Fermi, the Italian terrorist who tried to kill her, and the trained tiger who killed Fermi at distance with a detonator.

Then, and returning to the current events, McNamara's mind raced, searching for any opportunity to gain the upper hand. He spotted an upcoming exit ramp and made a split-second decision.

-"Hang on, boys! We're taking the next exit!"-

With screeching tires, their car veered off the highway, narrowly missing the guardrail. The black car followed closely behind, its occupants showing no signs of relenting.

After the detectives' Chrysler 300 took that exit, the high-speed chase continued for several minutes as the occupants of both vehicles keep exchanging heavy gunfire. Given the nature of the situation, McNamara and his comrades could not call for help on the radio, as they were not only focused on trying to survive and were not at liberty to use it, but they could not make their presence known to the Evansville police, as they were detectives working out of their primary jurisdiction in New York and were in violation of the law by working out of state without a warrant.

To add to their troubles, the detectives could not disclose their purpose to any local authorities; they couldn't take the risk of a potential informant within the ranks leaking their presence to those orchestrating the relentless pursuit and behind the enigmatic connection between Fermi, the tiger, and the escalating violence. Exposing their investigation could jeopardize not only their lives but also compromise any chances of uncovering the truth behind the tangled web of events they were entangled in. Silence became their shield, even as danger loomed relentlessly on their tail.

As the intense pursuit raged on, the assailants in the black sports vehicle grew weary of their failed attempts to eliminate their targets; with a sudden shift in tactics, they resolved to put an end to the chase once and for all. Recognizing the vulnerability of the detectives' Chrysler 300, they aimed their weapons at the car's tires, intending to disable it and seize their prey.

A series of calculated shots erupted, striking the rubber with precision, causing the vehicle to veer out of control, its grip on the road faltering. The battle for survival intensified as the detectives fought to regain command of their endangered vehicle.

-"SHIT!"- Miller cursed as hard as he could. -"Those bastards are shooting at the tires, dammit!"-

-"I KNOW, I KNOW…!"- McNamara angrily replied as he tried desperately to keep controlling the vehicle. -"FUCK…! Those guys REALLY want to see us dead!"-

-"DO SOMETHING, GUYS! I DON'T WANNA DIE HERE!"- Lance Ainsworth, on the brink of hysteria, screamed as he saw that things were going downhill from bad to worse and they would be the victims of the gunmen aboard the black car.

But, despite the detectives' valiant efforts to retain control of their vehicle and push onward toward the city, the Chrysler 300 had reached its breaking point. As McNamara executed a sharp right turn, the car's tires, intentionally deflated by the assailants in the menacing sports vehicle, struggled to maintain traction.

The vehicle careened with a jarring skid, casting a cascade of sparks from the rims as it desperately fought against the grip of the road; the odds seemed insurmountable as the detectives grappled with the grim reality that their pursuit was slipping further out of their grasp.

In a heart-stopping moment, the detectives' car careened with bone-rattling force into the unyielding embrace of the roadside guardrail. The violent crash reverberated through the vehicle, jostling its occupants and sending a chilling surge of fear coursing through their veins. In that harrowing instant, it felt as if time itself hung suspended, teetering on the precipice of their fate.

With the twisted metal and the shards of shattered glass surrounding them, the occupants couldn't shake the ominous realization that, if the crash didn't claim their lives, the merciless pursuers in the enemy vehicle would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to finish what they had started.

-"You guys okay?"- McNamara asked his two partners, hoping that they might be able to flee, or in due course, be forced to defend themselves from their attackers in the black car.

Douglas Miller, who had tried to quickly unbuckle his seatbelt, had suffered only minor scratches, though he seemed fit enough to respond to his comrade-in-arms.

-"Uggghh… I've survived worse crashes than this, I can tell you that, buddy…"-

Lance, on the other hand, was completely unharmed, though slightly dazed from the violent collision with the guardrail. He answered McNamara's question immediately.

-"I'm fine, I'm fine… just a little dizzy. I guess… but… what happened to the guys in the black car, folks?"-

Within moments, the menacing black sports car materialized, its occupants poised to confront those trapped within the crippled Chrysler 300. The detectives, now at the mercy of their relentless pursuers, were acutely aware of the dire situation that had befallen them.

As the black car loomed closer, Miller couldn't suppress a bitter, sardonic remark; the bleak reality of their circumstances loomed heavily, leaving little hope for a favorable outcome.

-"And… speak about the devil…"-

-"Shit…"- Lt. Ainsworth said, knowing that he talked too soon, for his chagrin.

In a split second, McNamara and Miller realized they wouldn't go down without a fight, and they knew waiting around wasn't an option when faced with armed attackers who wanted nothing but to end their lives. With quick reflexes and sharp instincts, the duo sprang into action to stop the enemy from getting off a shot and finish them off.

However, a pressing issue arose: Lance Ainsworth, the third member of their group, lacked any means to defend himself. It became painfully clear that the gunmen had no intention of leaving any witnesses behind, leaving the detectives with a grim realization: Their only recourse was to do everything in their power to shield the police officer or, at the very least, divert the assailants' attention long enough for Lance to flee with his life…

…even if it meant sacrificing their own.

-"Seems like we have no other way out but to deal with those psychos in black, Miller..."-

In that critical moment, Frank McNamara conducted a swift inventory of his remaining ammunition and grimly realized that he possessed only enough bullets to reload his revolver—a mere six shots.

As he surveyed the gunmen armed with their Tommy guns, a chilling truth settled in the mind of the seasoned New York detective, since it brought back memories of his harrowing wartime experiences, including his survival of the notorious Auschwitz concentration camp. Yet, unlike those past battles, it seemed increasingly unlikely that he and his companion, Miller, would emerge from that confrontation alive.

-"…and I think our luck ran out this time."-

Miller's eyes shifted to his own revolver, his gaze fixed upon the limited ammunition at his disposal. Like McNamara, he grasped the dire reality that he possessed a mere six bullets to defend himself. The weight of the situation bore down upon him, and the cold truth settled in his mind: their chances of survival, as they faced their heavily armed adversaries, were nearly nonexistent.

-"I know, pal… I know that too..."-

With the black car closing in at a mere seven paces from the wreckage, the two detectives wasted no time in exiting their vehicle; they understood that their role now was to divert the assailants' attention and provide a chance for Lance to escape. Escape for all three was no longer an option; their means had been taken away, leaving them vulnerable to being run over or shot in the back. They had no choice but to confront their grim fate as law enforcement officers, ready to sacrifice their lives for the sake of protecting others.

Before taking any further action, Miller took charge and issued instructions to Lt. Ainsworth, a final directive in the face of imminent danger.

-"We're going to distract those guys, while you crawl out of here and sneak across the field so they don't see you."- The shorter sleuth said, with his revolver in his hand. -"Hope we can keep them busy enough for you to escape and call for help."-

While ordinarily, Lance would have condemned such a notion, recognizing the implicit sacrifice of his comrades as he sought to escape the imminent confrontation, he understood that as a police officer, sacrificing one's life when duty demanded it was an intrinsic aspect of the job.

Despite the guilt weighing heavily upon him for leaving behind those courageous men, Lance grasped the significance of his survival. Should McNamara and Miller meet an unfortunate end, he would bear the responsibility of ensuring their sacrifice served a purpose, ensuring their deaths were not in vain.

-"Okay… I understand…"- Lance replied, visibly distraught at leaving those men alone to face a deadly encounter against the men dressed in black. -"Thanks for everything and… it was a honor to be with you two…"-

-"Thank you, Lieutenant…"- McNamara said, as he watched the crew of the black car emerge with their weapons, poised to deal with the New York detectives for good. -"Now go!"-

Wasting no precious seconds, Lance Ainsworth cautiously disembarked from the detectives' Chrysler 300, silently maneuvering his way towards the nearby farm fields. With careful precision, he crawled along the ground, taking cover amidst the towering stalks of corn that shielded him from view. Fortunately, the dense foliage provided ample concealment, allowing the police officer to remain hidden while his comrades, McNamara and Miller, emerged from the vehicle to confront the occupants of the menacing black sports car.

And, with Lt. Ainsworth safely making his escape, the courageous New York detectives stood resolute before their wrecked vehicle, fully aware that a showdown awaited them with the enigmatic assailants who sought to track them down. Stepping out of their own vehicle, the gunmen brandished their weapons with unwavering determination, poised to carry out their lethal mission.

The detectives couldn't help but take note of the distinctive attire worn by the three assassins: Cloaked in black garments, adorned with black dress hats and mysterious eye-covering masks, their appearance sent shivers down the spines of McNamara and Miller; adding to the imminent threat, the assailants armed themselves with Tommy guns, a stark contrast to the detectives' limited ammunition supply for their service revolvers. The odds were undeniably stacked against them, leaving the agents acutely aware that they were outmatched and seemingly powerless to neutralize their relentless and sinister adversaries.

-"Before we do anything, and in case we don't get out of this alive, I would like to tell you something, my dear friend…"- Miller was the first to talk, while pointing his revolver against the men in black.

-"And…"- McNamara, knowing that this might be the last time the two men would be able to talk to each other, replied with a certain amount of caustic wit. -"…I imagine you're going to say something trite like "It was an honor to work with you" or something like that, right?"-

-"Well… not exactly…"-

-"So, you seem like we're about to have a little chat before these funeral-ready fellas decide to give us a lead makeover…"- McNamara, ever the wisecracker, couldn't resist adding a touch of humor to the tense situation. -"Any last words of wisdom, partner?"-

Then, having the mysterious gunmen in their sights, McNamara and Miller turned their guns on them, though without firing first. This had a good reason to be, since the assailants, although they too had the detectives in their hands, and could have shot them first without problems, for some reason preferred to simply remain standing in front of their own vehicle, limiting themselves to simply pointing their weapons at McNamara and his partner.

-"Huh… I could say something like that, McNamara... but…"-

-"But what?"-

Without wasting a moment, the three gunmen swiftly assumed tactical positions, ensuring they had the detectives in their crosshairs. Their intent was clear: to eliminate any chance of escape and dispatch McNamara and Miller with deadly precision. Aware of the dire circumstances they faced, Miller wasted no time in responding to his comrade.

-"I prefer to focus on how to survive this rather than thinking about how I'm going to die... and, if I die..."-

-"If we die what?"-

-"Well... sigh…"- Miller did a brief pause before continuing with his talk. -"…if we die… at least no one can say that we died like rats... Don't you think so, my friend?"-

McNamara couldn't deny the truth in his partner's words. Surrendering and accepting their grim fate was not an option for them, no matter how dire their circumstances appeared to be. Both men had faced danger before, and this time would be no different…

-"Normally I would agree with your words, Miller, but..."-

Regrettably, the path to survival for Miller and McNamara demanded going over the dead bodies of the men in black who aimed to take them down, and to call it difficult would be a severe understatement.

-"…but first, I think we should tell that to our folks in black…"-

-"Agreed with that, McNamara."-

Despite the gunmen having their weapons trained on them, the three men in black suits showed an unexpected hesitation to pull the trigger, leaving McNamara and Miller perplexed. Aware of the precariousness of their situation, McNamara took two bold steps forward, still pointing his pistol at the menacing figures, attempting to test their resolve. This move alarmed Miller, who, filled with panic, urgently questioned his partner's intentions.

-"What the fuck are you doing, McNamara?!"- Miller asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Frank McNamara didn't respond, his focus fixed on the gunmen. The tension was palpable, and Miller couldn't help but wonder what would happen next…

-"All right, lads, looks like you three really got us going."- The New York detective, dressed in his immaculate red trench coat, coupled with his red hat, defiantly turned to the three assassins in front of him. -"And I have to admit, you guys are good at this…"-

The trio of assailants seemed taken aback by McNamara's defiance, and as if assessing the situation, they directed their weapons solely at him, appearing hesitant to pull the trigger. Instead of firing, they seemed to be willing to hear what the detective had to say, perhaps curious about his intentions.

-"But…"- He continued. -"…before you three blow our brains out, we'd like to know one thing before we die..."-

And then, McNamara aimed his revolver at the first gunman in front of him…

-"For whom or what person or organization do you guys work, huh?!"- The tall detective asked his first question aloud toward his aggressors. -"I assume that you guys are working for the government, and that you were the ones who took the corpse of that tiger out of the zoo, correct?"-

And them, he added the following…

-"And tell me, what's your plan with that corpse?"- McNamara demanded. -"You know damn well that tiger wasn't just some innocent animal because that big cat killed Fermi, and his death wasn't some self-immolation as the official story claims. So, who was Fermi working for, and why did he go on a killing spree? Is Miss Walburg connected to all this? Or maybe the government involved in all of this mess?!"-

Frustrated by the silent response from the three men, McNamara's anger flared, and in a daring act, he aimed his gun towards the sky and fired several shots into the air. The loud shots echoed through the tense atmosphere, successfully grabbing the gunmen's attention.

-"ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!"-

With the cold, steely eyes of a seasoned warrior, McNamara faced the gunmen as they aimed their weapons at him and Miller, preparing to deliver a fatal blow. Fear seemed a foreign concept to the detective; his composure remained unshaken. He knew he stood on the precipice of danger, but defiance burned in his heart, and the veteran detective, once forged in the fires of war, held his own gun firmly, conveying a clear message to his assailants: he would not go down without a fight.

-"Well, looks like you guys want a fight…"-

McNamara quickly removed the safety from his gun, and was about to open fire on the black-clad gunmen…

-"…then, a fight is the one you're gonna have, you freaks."-

With unwavering determination, Douglas Miller, a few steps behind his companion, also gripped his weapon firmly, poised to respond in kind to the three men in black. Unlike McNamara, Miller had no intention of engaging in eloquent speeches; he knew actions spoke louder than words. If he was destined to meet his end, he wouldn't go down alone, since the Jewish-born detective was prepared to take whatever measures necessary to ensure his assailants would remember the price of crossing paths with him.

However, before any of the guns could be fired, an intense sound echoed in the distance, emanating from the direction of the city. The sound was all too familiar to everyone present, but for the detectives, it held even greater significance, as they were just moments away from resorting to self-defense with their weapons.

-"Police sirens?"- Miller was the first to note the nature of that sound.

Indeed, the blaring sound cutting through the air was the distinct wail of Evansville Police Department sirens. In response to the unfolding events on the highway, authorities had been swiftly alerted, and now they were en route to the scene, ready to confront the two cars and their occupants who had engaged in a fierce exchange of gunfire in the highway minutes ago.

-"Looks like the cavalry is coming, Miller…"- The taller sleuth said with a wicked smile in his face.

Meanwhile, as the wailing sirens grew louder, the men in black knew trouble was looming. Despite having the two detectives at their mercy, they inexplicably chose to abandon their plans; And, without uttering a word or offering an explanation, the assailants hurriedly retreated to their vehicle, and with swift efficiency, they vanished from the scene.

And then, Frank McNamara and Douglas Miller found themselves standing in the middle of the road, their hearts still pounding from the intense confrontation with the enigmatic strangers. They had been ready to face death head-on, but now, with their assailants fleeing and the police approaching, they were left with an unsettling mixture of relief and bewilderment.

Their minds raced with questions: Why did those men spare them? What were their motives? And who was behind this twisted scheme to eliminate them? The lack of answers only added to their confusion.

Grateful for the timely intervention of the police, they couldn't help but wonder why the mysterious gunmen had fled so hastily, leaving them alive and bewildered. As the sound of the sirens sound closer and closer, they knew they should be thankful to them, but the encounter had left them on edge, unsure of what sinister forces were at play.

-"What… the… fuck…?!"-

McNamara, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline-fueled encounter, was the first to break the silence. He couldn't help but let out a curse, convinced that he had been facing certain death moments ago. On the other hand, Miller, who was still holding his revolver in disbelief after what had happened, could only manage to say something about the situation, with a certain tone of sarcasm, of course.

-"sigh… at least they would have given us a "sorry" before they fucking left, dammit!"-

Under different circumstances, both men would have attempted to analyze and decipher the enigmatic turn of events; they'd be trying to understand why the three assailants chose to flee instead of finishing them off, even though they had the perfect opportunity to do so without any hindrance. It was clear that those mysterious figures were determined to obstruct their investigation, connecting the dots between the incidents on May 10th, the trained tiger's involvement in Fermi's death, and its subsequent removal from the zoo morgue by supposed government agents, who might very well be the same individuals that had just attempted to take their lives.

Yet, at that moment, McNamara and Miller had more pressing concerns to occupy their thoughts, and rightfully so. While they could feel a glimmer of relief that the police were en route to the scene, it did not erase the fact that they were operating outside their jurisdiction. Being in Evansville, Indiana, investigating that case, if the local authorities ever questioned them, they could find themselves entangled in a legal quagmire. Such a predicament had the potential to not only unravel all their hard work up to that point but could lead to suspension from the NYPD or, worse yet, land them behind bars.

-"Shit… we better get the hell outta here before the local cops start quizzing us, and all our work ends up right in the crapper, buddy…"- McNamara said in an urgent voice, knowing that the police would not be long in arriving.

-"Agreed with you, McNamara…"- And then, he asked another question. -"But we have to find Lt. Ainsworth; we can't get him involved in this fuss and have his career in the force screwed up because of us, either."-

-"Yeah… you're right… "- The taller man dressed in red replied, trying to recover his breath. -"I was thinking the same too… let's find him…"-

-"Got it."-

Without wasting any time, the two detectives swiftly made their way behind their wrecked car, searching for their companion, Officer Lance Ainsworth, who had fled the scene and sought refuge in a nearby cornfield within a farm, mere feet away from the vehicle.

-"Hey, Lieutenant! Are you still there?!"- Miller yelled as loud as he could, so he could be heard by the police officer.

Thankfully, Lance had not ventured too far from the scene of the crime and was still concealed within the cornfield, carefully positioned among the tall stalks to avoid being spotted by the assailants in the black car. He knew that attempting to flee would only increase the risk of detection, so he opted to remain still, biding his time until further help arrived, be it from the police or other relevant authorities.

As McNamara and Miller diligently searched for their comrade, they felt a sense of relief when they spotted Lance emerging from his hiding spot, signaling his presence to them.

-"I'm here, guys! I'M HERE!"-

And so, the officer came out of the cornfield that served as his hiding place. The cop was covered in dirt and weeds all over his body, but at least Lance was grateful that he and his companions from New York had made it out of that crisis alive, believing that this was going to be their end.

-"Geez… I'm really glad to see you two are okay, guys… For a moment there… I thought we weren't going to make it out of that one alive…"- The Indianan cop said, with a smile painted in his face, but still trying to catch his breath, given that he thought he was closer to his own death, together with his comrades-in-arms from the Big Apple.

-"So did we…"- Miller responded in the same fashion, explaining what happened a few minutes ago. -"But... for some reason, our friends in black opted to scram when they heard the police getting closer, even though they could have stuffed us with lead at that moment... that's very strange, if you ask me…"-

-"Yeah, I know, I heard everything that happened from the cornfield in case I had to know where to escape to if you two hadn't made it out alive."- Lance retorted. -"I wonder why they decided to escape just like that?"

McNamara's attention shifted as he heard the distant wailing of the Evansville police cruisers. He knew that the three men had more immediate concerns now—the approaching law enforcement; the fewer traces they left behind, the better their chances of escaping the police's notice. As out-of-town detectives, McNamara and Miller didn't also want to jeopardize Officer Ainsworth's career by linking him to their unauthorized investigation.

-"We better hightail it outta here before the rest of the cops from the town get here."-

-"And how are we going to get out of here, McNamara?"- The middle-sized detective asked to his partner. -"Those assholes shot out the tires of our car, and we don't have any other way to walk out of this place unnoticed. Do you have a a plan for that?"-

After a brief pause, Frank McNamara explained his idea for fleeing the crime scene unseen by the local law enforcement.

-"Well, here's my plan… Step One: we strip the car clean of anything that screams 'New York detective'—no badges, no papers, nada…"- The former WWII veteran began his explanation. -"Step Two: we're removing the license plates to keep them guessing where we're from… and Step Three: we'll gonna take a walk over this ranch, making our way to the nearest gas station or motel. There, we'll hail a cab back to town… and let's pray no hillbilly mistakes us for trespassers and blow our brains out."-

Miller and Lance didn't waste a moment in agreeing with McNamara's plan. The urgency in their eyes mirrored the ticking of the clock—time was their greatest adversary, and swift action was their only ally.

-"Let's move, then."- Miller said, his voice firm and resolute. -"And let's hope those cops don't find out exactly what happened here…"

-"Yeah."- Lance followed suit. -"If the department found out about this, losing my badge and my job would be the last thing I have to worry about."-

-"Then, unless someone objects, let's do it now… GO, GO, GO!"- McNamara said aloud, as he smacked the palms of his hands together to hurry his friends along.

The trio of men sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful. McNamara took on the task of removing the license plates that gave away the Chrysler 300's New York origins, while Miller carefully extracted any vital documents still inside the vehicle. Meanwhile, Lance Ainsworth kept watch outside, his eyes scanning the road for any sign of approaching law enforcement. It was a well-coordinated effort, each man focused on his assigned task as they worked together to cover their tracks…

The seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into eternity as they completed their tasks. Finally, everything was in order—their escape plan had taken shape. The trio exchanged nods, their eyes reflecting an unspoken understanding.

-"Well, looks like the car is now clean…"- McNamara said with some haste, knowing that there was no time for flattery. -"Now we better beat it out of here ASAP before the cops get here!"-

-"Understood, McNamara. Let's go!"- Miller agreed.

-"Hey, wait for me, guys!"- Lance said as he was distracted for a few moments and saw that the two detectives were running toward the farm where the cornfields were.

And so, Frank McNamara, Douglas Miller, and Lance Ainsworth were ready to fade into the night, leaving the highway behind as they embarked on a journey fraught with danger and secrets. The three men ran into the cornfield, leaving their vehicle behind, knowing that the police would arrive at any moment and that they could not remain at the scene without risking that their entire investigation would be ruined on the spot.

Navigating through the cornfield under the moon's dim glow, the three men relied on their instincts and the shadows to shield them from any potential onlookers. McNamara's past as a seasoned soldier during World War II came to the fore, his eyes sharply scanning their surroundings as he led his comrades through the unfamiliar terrain.

Their footsteps were hushed, and they moved with the precision of a well-trained unit, avoiding any unnecessary noise that could betray their presence. The farm's sprawling expanse was a maze of uncertainty, but McNamara's experience in evading danger proved invaluable.

The fields seemed to stretch endlessly before them, and every rustle of the corn leaves sent shivers down their spines. They had to remain undetected, for the consequences of a wrong move were dire – arrest, injury, or worse.

Miller and Lance followed their leader's every move, placing their complete trust in the man who had seen the horrors of war and survived. With each step, they relied on their instincts, like predators stalking their prey, while praying to avoid becoming prey themselves.

As they maneuvered through the dark sea of cornstalks, the tension in the air was palpable. Each heartbeat seemed to echo like a thunderclap, as time slowed to a crawl. The farm owners could be anywhere, and any sign of their presence could spell disaster.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they emerged from the cornfield, their hearts pounding, and their bodies covered in the soil of the night. They had managed to evade detection, but their journey was far from over.

With the crime scene behind them and the farm left untouched by their passage, McNamara led them towards a distant road. Fortunately, they had managed to evade the police and also avoid being seen by anyone else within the property, which caused the three men to breathe a sigh of relief that they were now safe.

Their immediate priority was finding a safe haven where they could catch their breath and make arrangements to return to Evansville. Luck was on their side, as a gas station stood about half a kilometer away, offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the night. The three men, weary yet resolute, set out on foot, guided by the distant glow of the station's lights.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Gas Station in an unknown highway, Northwest Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 9:25 PM

Frank McNamara, Douglas Miller, and Lance Ainsworth reached the gas station after a brief but cautious walk down the road. The journey through the cornfields had left them dirty, covered in dirt, straw, and mud, the remnants of their covert trek to avoid detection by the farm owners; despite their disheveled appearance, they felt relieved to have reached a safe haven and to still be alive, knowing they were now one step closer to returning to Evansville unscathed.

As the three characters entered the gas station, they caught the attention of the employees on duty. The sudden coming of these unannounced individuals without a car to service left the employees intrigued, unable to take their eyes off the curious newcomers, and one of the employees, with a touch of sarcasm, couldn't resist asking a question to satisfy his curiosity.

-"Hey there, what brings you all here?"- One of the younger employees asked, directing his playful gaze at McNamara, the tallest of the trio -"Did y'all just come from a wild rodeo or somethin'?"-

Undeterred by the sly remark from the gas station employee, McNamara and his two comrades paid no mind to the snickers and mocking glances from both staff and customers alike, who seemed quite amused by their appearance. However, the seasoned detective couldn't resist a witty comeback for the impudent clerk.

-"None of your fuckin' business, kid."-

As McNamara's stern gaze and violent words silenced the other employees, an air of intimidation filled the gas station; without further ado, the trio headed into the convenience store. Exhausted from their daring escape, they were eager to find a phone to call for a cab back to Evansville, while also seeking some much-needed refreshments and sustenance after navigating the cornfields and evading police detection.

Once stepping into the store, the detectives were met by a different sight. The attendant behind the counter was a man in his mid-fifties, sporting a salt-and-pepper beard and a slightly portly frame. His weathered expression showed a mix of wariness and suspicion as he eyed the three strangers who had walked into his establishment; it was evident that he wasn't about to let his guard down, unsure of their intentions.

-"Well… how I can help you, gentlemen?"- The older man looked up at the detectives and the police officer as they walked into his store, his eyes taking in their disheveled look.

-"Is there a phone in the store that we can use?"- Anticipating that their disheveled appearances might raise suspicion in the clerk's eyes, McNamara wasted no time in addressing the situation. He spoke up promptly, skillfully skirting around the specifics while attempting to provide a plausible explanation for their grimy state. -"We happened to get into an accident a few minutes ago and we need to call a cab back to town."-

-"An accident, you say?"- The old man asked the sleuth.

-"Yeah."- Miller also explained their dilemma as well. -"Our car crashed into a barrier, and since we had some straw in the trunk, all of it got thrown into our vehicle and that's why we are so dirty, if that's what you're curious about, sir."-

The fact that the detectives and Lance were clad in straw did not explain the fact that they were also covered in dirt and mud, the result of crawling into the farm to hide from the police and the farm owners, but the store owner did not want to think any more about the matter, knowing that these men had no ill intentions and only wanted a phone to return home.

-"All right… There is a pay phone at the back right, near the refrigerators. If you guys need to tidy up, you can also use the bathroom, if you wish."-

-"Oh, thank you, sir!"- Lance thanked the man. -"We really need that last part!"-

-"Bah, don't thank me, it's the least I can do for you… But, I guess you do have money to pay, don't you?"-

-"We do have money to pay, don't worry about that, sir."- Miller replied, while showing some bills at the store owner. -"In fact… while we're at it… uhhh… could you throw in a pack of cigarettes, please?"-

-"Okay… a pack of cigarettes, right away!"-

-"Thanks!"- The man of average size expressed his gratitude when handed the pack, also sharing a few cigarettes with his companions in an effort to alleviate the stress that had mounted during their audacious escape. Afterward, he settled the bill with a five-dollar note.

As McNamara strode to the phone to arrange for a cab, and with Miller and Lance taking seats to savor their cigarettes, they couldn't help but notice a radio tuned to the evening news. The convenience store owner had it playing, and its contents couldn't escape their attention. Clearly, their recent harrowing experience hadn't gone unnoticed by the onlookers on the road, as evidenced by the reporter's voice delving into their story…

…Numerous eyewitnesses report a gripping scene on the road, involving a high-speed pursuit between a Chrysler car and a mysterious black sports vehicle. The vehicles engaged in a dramatic exchange of gunfire, leaving bystanders shocked and alarmed. Identity details of the drivers remain shrouded in mystery. Notably, the occupants of the enigmatic black car were observed wearing sleek black suits and concealing their faces behind masks...

…We've received an update on the situation involving the pursued Chrysler. Authorities have successfully located the Chrysler 300 that was being chased by the unidentified black vehicle. The Chrysler was discovered adjacent to a guardrail, displaying evident damage from colliding with it. Police investigators note multiple bullet impacts on the car, suggesting a fierce exchange of gunfire during the pursuit. The loss of control was attributed to the punctured tires caused by the assailant's bullets.

Remarkably, no occupants were found within the Chrysler, and the absence of blood or any signs of injury from the firefight puzzles investigators. The car's license plates were conspicuously absent, along with any identifying elements that might trace its origin or ownership. Consequently, the whereabouts and identities of the drivers remain veiled in uncertainty.

Simultaneously, no signs or locations have surfaced concerning the enigmatic black vehicle that pursued the Chrysler. Despite circulating speculations alluding to potential involvement of gunmen or mob affiliates, authorities have declined to entertain conjecture on the identities of those involved in the pursuit. They assert their commitment solely to probing the incident, unearthing the truth, and ensuring that those accountable face justice...

We'll keep you updated on this story as it develops. In the meantime, if you have any information about either the black vehicle, the Chrysler, or any of its occupants, please contact the police.

The convenience store owner, who was listening to the news, could not help but comment out loud about what he had just heard on the radio regarding that incident, not realizing at any time that those three people in his store were involved in the chase mentioned on the nightly radio news.

-"Can you guys believe it?"- He said to the three men inside his store. -"A high-speed chase right here in town! Jeez, like we didn't have enough nonsense already after what happened on the 10th!"-

McNamara, Miller and Lt. Ainsworth, who were otherwise busy, the former trying to talk on the phone, and the latter two smoking, knew that the man was talking about the chase they were involved in, which caused them to begin to feel uncomfortable. They didn't want anyone to know that they were running away from the police, trying to avoid being questioned. Despite their disheveled appearance, covered in dirt from their escape through a farm, they didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves. So, they would pretend to be clueless about the situation, hoping to divert suspicion away from them.

-"We haven't heard anything about any car chase or anything like that."- Miller said. -"We have enough issues of our own to worry about to begin with…"-

-"I guess you guys didn't see any of the stuff on the radio, did you?"-

-"Of course not."- The middle-sized detective replied in a casual tone. -"We were heading for a different exit when we had our little crash. And, you know, that radio thing happened way earlier."-

-"Oh, I see."- The old man replied. -"And… by the way… I just noticed that you and your other friend sound like you came from out of town. I guess you guys aren't from these parts, are you?"-

-"Well, yeah."- Miller said, avoiding giving too many details. -"We just came from out of town, and we were on our way to town after visiting a farm where we bought all that straw, and then we had that accident. But… I think we are gonna have to buy more straw the next time we go there."-

Miller was well aware that his explanation lacked a certain level of conviction, but he had no alternative cover story to offer the store owner. He could only hope that the man would accept his explanation without digging deeper into their situation.

-"You guys don't look like farmers, if I have to say so."-

-"Nope… we just bought that straw for our pets to sleep on."- Lance Ainsworth also participated in the chat, while also trying to cover up his own part in the previous events.

-"I see… you three bought straw for your pets…"- The old man said. -"I'm sorry all your money you spent on it went down the drain, gentlemen."-

-"Well… it could have been worse..."- Lance retorted. -"…we could have had a more serious accident... and we wouldn't be here to talk about it."-

-"Mmmmhh… that's true."- The owner agreed with the police officer.

-"For now, the only thing we can do is call a cab, return to town, and then tow our car back to Evansville tomorrow to have it repaired."- Douglas Miller explained what he and his friends pretend to do at the moment, while avoiding saying that they don't have any plans to return for their car anytime soon.

A few moments later, Frank McNamara walked up to his two colleagues and told them the news after he had called for a cab. Miller, before his friend spoke, asked a question first.

-"So?"-

-"Well, I've already called a cab. The ride will take about half an hour, whatever the traffic is."-

-"Good to know that."- Lance Ainsworth said, still smoking his cigarette. -"But I think first we have to get rid of all this damn straw we have on us if we don't want to be compared with the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz when we get on."

-"I already know that. That's why I'm going to go to the bathroom to get all this crap off."- Then, the taller man addressed the store owner. -"Could I use your bathroom, sir?"-

-"Sure, of course you can use it."- The old man pointed his finger to a door behind him. -"The bathroom is through that door."-

-"Thank you, sir!"-

While McNamara made his way to the restroom to remove the remnants of straw and dust, Lance Ainsworth rose from his seat and walked toward the pay phone. Douglas Miller couldn't help but notice this shift in Lance's movements.

-"What are you going to do, are you going to make a phone call too?"-

-"Yep… I need to call my wife and tell her I'm fine, and that I'm going to be home late."- The undercover police officer replied.

-"Let's hope your wife isn't getting suspicious after what happened."-

-"I hope so, too…"-

Immediately after, Lance picked up the pay phone, inserted a few coins and dialed his home phone number. Seconds later, his wife, Natalie, picked up the phone.

-"Hello, who do I talk to?"-

-"It's me, Lance… Are you okay, Natalie?"-

-"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY, HUH?"- The policeman's wife, hearing her husband's voice, reacted in a way that mixed concern and anger. -"YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TODAY?"-

Lance, hearing that his wife seemed to already know what happened to him and his New York friends, feigned ignorance.

-"Got no idea, sweetheart…"-

-"I heard on the radio about some guys in a black car chasing another vehicle on the way to the zoo. They said there was a shootout between them!"- Natalie's voice trembled with worry as she relayed the information to Lance, her tone becoming more panicked.

-"Oh! I know what you are talking about…"- Lance responded, while trying to acting like nothing had happened to him. -"I just found that out a few hours ago too."-

-"And where are you now, Lance? Did you also go to arrest those responsible along with the rest of the police department?"

-"Nope."- The police officer responded in a calm and carefree tone, trying to downplay the situation. -"I was actually at the police department dealing with a bunch of paperwork. You know, internal affairs stuff and department-related matters. When I caught wind of the news, they had already dispatched other officers to handle it. Figured I didn't need to rush over. Plus, the paperwork had me tied up, and I guess I completely forgot to give you a call… hehehe!"-

Relieved that her husband seemed unharmed and buying into his explanation of being occupied at the police department, Natalie's tense shoulders eased. The realization that Lance wasn't in immediate peril brought forth a sigh of relief, masking her unawareness of the perilous encounter he had narrowly escaped just hours before. With a calmer tone, she responded to Lance.

-"You would have told me you were going to be late, for god's sake!"- The woman replied at her husband. -"After what happened on the 10th, I'm worried that something might happen to you, especially if someone related with that killer might be after you or Catherine…"-

-"Yeah, I know that, honey, that's why I think my commanding officers decided not to send me there, just in case… But I'm here in the police station, completely safe, so you don't have to worry, dear..."-

-"And why does it sound like there's a lot of car noise around you, Lance?"-

The police officer sensed his wife's perceptiveness as she picked up on the unusual background noise, a sound out of place within the confines of a police station, especially an office. Faced with the need for a plausible explanation, he quickly devised a convincing response.

-"I'm talking near the station parking lot, Natalie, that's why you hear so much noise coming from outside."-

-"Oh, I see…"- Natalie Ainsworth responded without suspicion that her husband was not making the call from the location he claimed.

-"Well, leaving that aside... How is our guest?"-

Lt. Ainsworth spoke specifically of Catherine Walburg, the woman who was a guest at his home, avoiding saying her name aloud to avoid raising the suspicion of the owner of the convenience store.

-"You mean Catherine? She's doing well…"- Natalie assured her husband. -"Catherine decided to call it an early night after dinner. She spent the entire day helping me clean the house, even though I told her she didn't need to. It's like she's trying not to be a burden on us, if you ask me…"-

-"Well, after what she went through, I imagine she also wants to try to distract her mind from all the crap that have gone on in the last five days… sigh… and I can't blame her for that."-

-"Certainly, dear…"-

Then, Lance changed the subject to a related one regarding Catherine…

-"By the way, hasn't she said what her plans will be once all this is over?"-

After a brief hush, Natalie finally answered her husband's question.

-"She said she would go to South Dakota…"-

When Natalie responded, the man could not help but sound surprised.

-"South Dakota? Boy, that really is far away from here… I guess she has friends there, huh?"-

At that last part of his question, Natalie wavered a bit and finally gave her husband Lance an answer, sure of what his reaction might be.

-"Yes… an Indian doctor."-

That last part stunned the policeman, given what that implied, something he wished for a better explanation than the one Natalie had given him.

-"What do you mean by an Indian doctor, huh?"- The man said in a more assertive tone, without raising his voice a lot. -"Don't tell me she's going to hide into a..."-

-"Catherine mentioned that she's in touch with a friend who's a doctor and resides on a reservation in South Dakota."- Natalie explained. -"She's considering heading there, thinking it would be a safe haven since no one would dare finding her on an Indian reservation without stirring up notice from the locals."-

Lance was silent for a few moments, contemplating Catherine's drastic decision. While he was not as prejudiced as his wife, he knew that taking shelter on a Native American reservation was not something to be taken lightly, especially for a white woman in the 1950s.

But he also knew that Catherine was in danger. Whatever she was involved in, someone wanted to silence her. And if they were willing to go after her, they wouldn't hesitate to go after anyone else who was close to her. And that would include him, and even his family, considering what had happened five days earlier, and Lance's own painful ordeal a few hours ago.

-"Hello, Lance? You still there, honey?"-

As his wife probed further, sensing his contemplative silence, Lance swiftly answered her, breaking the quiet spell that had momentarily enveloped him.

-"Yes, I'm okay…"- The man responded in a hurried fashion. -"I'm just trying to get my head around the situation, that's all."-

-"I see."- And then, Natalie did another question to her husband on the phone. -"Still don't know when you're coming home?"-

-"In fact, I'm already on my way home, just waiting for a cab to pick me up,"- Lance Ainsworth explained. -"though I think it might take a while to get home, depending on how long it takes the cab to get to the station."-

-"It's alright, dear,"- Natalie responded with a tone of concern. -"Just don't be too long. I don't want any more worries after all that's happened these past few days."-

Her husband, Lance, could hear the tension in her voice.

-"I know, I know,"- He said. -"I'll be home as soon as I can."-

There was a pause, and then Natalie said, "I love you."

-"I love you too."- Lance said. -"See ya."-

-"See you soon. Take care out there."-

Lance then hung up the phone, his gaze fixed on outside the store, awaiting the arrival of the cab at the gas station. He stood there with his two companions, still busy cleaning themselves on the store's bathroom, the trio having narrowly escaped a deadly encounter earlier, and their lives spared only when the mysterious assailants decided to flee upon hearing the approaching sirens of the police.

After half an hour of anxious waiting, the cab finally rolled into the gas station, its tires crunching gravel as it came to a halt. The trio, now scrubbed clean of every trace of dust and dirt, made their exit from the convenience store. Before leaving, they expressed their gratitude to the store owner, acknowledging his kindness for permitting them to freshen up in his restroom. With their pleasantries concluded, they climbed into the taxi, ready to make the journey back to Evansville.

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Inside Taxi heading to Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 10:31 PM

As they settled into the cab's comfortable seats, McNamara, Miller, and Lt. Ainsworth sought a moment of respite, a chance to recover from the harrowing ordeal they'd endured just hours ago.

They were acutely aware that the situation had taken a perilous turn with the unexpected appearance of the assassins in the ominous black car. It had become starkly evident that someone, or perhaps several someones, had a vested interest in silencing them. The complexity of their predicament deepened as they considered the involvement of Lance Ainsworth, an outsider in the midst of their investigation.

There loomed the haunting possibility that Lance too could become a target in the crosshairs of these ruthless assailants. And the events of May 10th, including the enigmatic demise of Massimiliano Fermi and the peculiar discovery of the corpse of that trained tiger the following day, remained shrouded in layers of mystery.

Now, they just had to plan what to do next and what their plans would be for the next few days, while they returned to their places of residence.

-"Well, folks… sigh… now what are we going to do next?"- The police officer was the first to talk, avoiding touching the subject of their ordeal in order to avoid being heard by the taxi driver.

After a moment of silence from the New York detectives, Frank McNamara answered Lance's question while smoking his cigarette.

-"Nothing."-

-"Nothing at all?"- The policeman responded with some disbelief at the response of the tall man in the red trench coat.

-"Yeah, nothing…"- The New Yorker tersely responded him. -"I can't discuss it too much here, but after what just happened, the wise thing to do is not to do anything else."-

-"And what are you both going to do until then?"- Lance asked. -"Are you guys still planning to continue working here, or have you got other plans on the table, huh?"-

After a momentary silence, as the weight of the question hung in the air, Douglas Miller, McNamara's steadfast partner, replied to the police officer with the following words.

-"I think the best thing to do would be to stop by your house first, and then we can talk about it with some privacy… What do you think?"-

The mid-sized detective's response startled Lt. Ainsworth, for obvious reasons.

-"Wait a minute! You want my family to know about what happened today?!"-

-"Of course not, Lieutenant… we will talk in front of your house outside before we go to our hotel to rest, and then we will explain to you what our plans will be. Are you okay with that?"-

Hearing that they planned to talk to him outside his home, the policeman breathed a sigh of relief, and finally agreed to his suggestion.

-"Well… I got no problem with your idea, Mr. Miller... but if you two are going to talk about something sensitive outside, do it quick… I don't want the neighbors to see you two and get suspicious if they figure out you guys aren't from here…"-

-"It's a deal then, Lieutenant."- Then, Miller addressed his friend. -"How about you, McNamara?"-

-"I think it's a good idea too."- The taller man in red replied. -"We need to talk about it as soon as possible and we also don't want to involve you any further in this, Lieutenant."-

-"Yeah, I get that, Mr. McNamara… sigh… and I certainly can't blame you for that."-

---

May 15th, AD 1955, Rosedale South (outside Ainsworth family home), Evansville, Indiana, United States of America, 11:20 PM

The journey back to Lance Ainsworth's residence proved somewhat rugged, marred by the late-night traffic in the city downtown. Despite the hour-long drive, the trio eventually reached their destination. The taxi came to a halt, neatly positioning itself near the police officer's residence, allowing McNamara, Miller, and Lance to disembark.

Knowing that they still had to return to their hotel in Evansville, McNamara and Miller engaged in a brief conversation with the cab driver before he decided to depart.

-"Could you hold on for a few minutes? We need to have a little chat with our friend."- Miller talked with the driver.

-"I have no problem with that, but the meter will keep running until you decide to either stay here or go somewhere else… Are you okay with that, sir?"-

-"Don't worry about the money, that's the least of it."- The middle-sized detective replied him. -"All we ask is that you wait for us, please."-

The cab driver nodded in agreement, willing to wait for McNamara and Miller as they conversed with Lance. In the meantime, Lance, with a keen eye on maintaining a low profile and not arousing his neighbors' curiosity, took shelter beneath the cover of an oak tree positioned in front of his residence. This discreet location shielded the trio's conversation from prying eyes, concealing the fact that he was engaged in dialogue with two out-of-town strangers.

Without delay, the two detectives made their way to the oak tree, where Lance Ainsworth patiently waited to commence their conversation. The cloak of night, coupled with the tree's protective shade, provided a veil of secrecy, allowing the three men to converse discreetly, evading the notice of any prying eyes, even eluding the notice of Lance's own family, seemingly oblivious to their presence at his doorstep.

-"All right, what are you guys going to do now?"- The police officer asked the New Yorkers. -"Are you going to continue working here, or do you intend to do something else?"-

-"Unfortunately, after what happened today, the prudent thing to do would be to leave this town by tomorrow."- McNamara, following suit with his partner Miller's own idea about trying to not involve Lt. Ainsworth in the case after almost dying in the hands of mysterious men who where chasing them after leaving the city zoo. -"As Miller mentioned a moment ago, we don't want to risk you or even your family in our affairs, and we cannot, however, in good faith that Catherine Walburg would be affected in the same way."-

-"Besides,"- Miller also added his own words on the issue. -"We already have all the clues we need, and we wouldn't have been able to find them if it weren't for your help, Lieutenant. We know that tiger was not a wild beast escaped from somewhere, but an animal trained to kill Fermi. In addition, we now know that Fermi and the tiger are somehow related to the people or person who want Catherine dead, and that those guys dressed in black are also related to them as well."-

-"However,"- McNamara interrupted Miller. -"they seem to know that we are digging deeper into this case, and now they are going to try to eliminate anyone who knows anything about all this... and looks like we are already on their hit list…"-

Lance quickly understood what the detectives wanted him to understand: Both McNamara and Miller wanted to prevent someone outside their own investigation from getting hurt or even killed, like Lance, considering what they had just witnessed regarding the black-clad gunmen boarding the black sports car hours ago outside Evansville.

Added to this was the fact that Lt. Ainsworth had a family, a wife and a daughter. Asking that police officer to help them further would not only have been dangerous for them, but could have put the police officer's family in the crosshairs of the same people who wanted to kill Catherine Walburg, just as they had done with that woman's friends, as well as Dr. Richard Mason, Dr. Nicholas Larkin and their respective families and acquaintances.

-"So, that means I won't be able to help you anymore, right?"- Lance asked them.

-"Exactly."- McNamara retorted quickly. -"We do not want you or your family caught up in this. Those bastards want us both dead, not you, and I don't think we need any more help from you at this point. In fact, for your safety and ours, we better leave this town before these guys come back for a second round… and we won't be as lucky as we were today..."-

Upon absorbing the detective's explanation, a sigh escaped the lips of the police officer, a sigh tinged with melancholy and an undertone of resignation. Recollecting the events from five days past, he harbored an earnest wish to bring those responsible for the tragic demise of Catherine's dear friends to justice.

Yet, he recognized the stark reality before him. The path these two detectives were embarking upon transcended the realm of his own policing capabilities. It had become painfully evident that a pervasive conspiracy was at play, one that hinted at a connection reaching even into the corridors of the American government itself. More disconcerting was the realization that the unseen hand behind this conspiracy was prepared to eliminate anyone who held even a sliver of insight into that enigmatic scheme.

Furthermore, Catherine had devised a plan to seek sanctuary within a Native American reservation in North Dakota, where she had a confidant living there. Her intent to seek refuge within this secluded enclave revealed the depths of her secrets, for she had chosen that isolated haven within her own nation, well aware that any spy or assassin would inevitably draw the attention of the indigenous inhabitants, precipitating yet more complications for their nefarious pursuits.

In the enigmatic web of intrigue entangling the detectives and Catherine, it remained abundantly clear that none of them wished for innocent bystanders to fall victim to their entangled troubles. Lance, perhaps more acutely than anyone else, harbored an unwavering resolve to shield his family from becoming unwitting casualties in a labyrinthine conspiracy that ensnared not only his neighbor but also these enigmatic New York lawmen.

-"Understood,"- The policeman responded, his voice tinged with concern. -"I've no desire to delve any deeper into this shit, particularly after that close call with those men in black, and I won't risk my family's well-being by getting further entangled in all this mess regarding that Italian guy and the tiger who killed him… But before we end our little chat for good… there's something I'd like to ask…"-

-"What would you like to ask, officer?"- Miller said.

After a brief moment of silence, the Indiana police officer posed his question to the two sleuths.

-"In the event that I happen to know something about this whole case by pure chance, and it would be of use to both of you... Is there any way I can get in contact with you two?"-

Immediately thereafter, Frank McNamara pulled out of his coat pockets a business card, which contained some phone numbers, and immediately handed it to Lt. Ainsworth.

-"If you happen to stumble upon anything noteworthy, don't hesitate to give us a call."- McNamara handed Lance the card, wearing a serious yet slightly wry expression. -"Just remember, keep it hush-hush. That means no one else, not even family or your higher-ups at the department."-

-"I don't think you need to remind me that, Mr. McNamara."- The officer replied, as he put the card in his wallet. -"I will keep that in mind in all moment."-

-"Well, if you have nothing else to add to this, we'll be on our way."- Miller waved his goodbye to Lance. -"Tomorrow we'll head back to New York, and let's just hope nothing else goes wrong on the way home."-

Lance nodded solemnly, realizing the truth in Miller's words.

-"I'll keep my eyes and ears open. You guys take care."-

McNamara extended a hand to Lance, offering a firm handshake.

-"Stay safe, Lieutenant. And remember, if you need us, you know where to find us."-

Then, the police officer returned the handshake with a determined grip.

-"Thank you, both of you. Please take care on the road, and good luck with the rest of your investigation."-

-"We will… take care of yourself too. See ya."- Miller waved goodbye at Lt. Ainsworth.

-"See ya too."- McNamara followed suit.

With that, the detectives turned and made their way back to the waiting taxi. Lance watched the cab pull away, disappearing into the night. Then he turned and headed into his house, closing the door behind him, his family waiting for him, and leaving behind the mysteries and dangers of that fateful day.

---

Unknown date, AD 1955, Somewhere in the middle of the New Mexico desert, United States of America, unknown hour (late midnight)

Beneath the ebony tapestry of a moonless New Mexico sky, a desolate landscape stretched as far as the eye could see. It was a place where isolation had long conquered civilization, a barren expanse where the earth's secrets remained hidden beneath layers of parched soil.

The desert, inky and foreboding, seemed to whisper secrets to the wind as it danced through the gnarled, skeletal remains of ancient Joshua trees. The air, thick with the scent of sagebrush and the mysteries of countless ages, was a shroud of secrecy draped over this forgotten realm.

In this remote and unforgiving terrain, time seemed to stand still. There was no hum of civilization, no trace of human existence. Jagged rock formations rose like jagged sentinels, their shadows etched in obsidian on the sandy canvas. The night's silence was occasionally broken by the mournful cry of a lone coyote, a lonesome echo across the vast emptiness.

Above, the stars shimmered like diamonds on black velvet, their brilliance undimmed by the pollution of city lights. The Milky Way stretched across the heavens, a celestial river of light that seemed to bridge the gap between the infinite and the desolation below.

This was a place of secrets, of hidden truths buried in the shifting sands, waiting for those bold enough to seek them out. It was a place where the line between reality and myth blurred, where the very air seemed charged with a sense of the uncanny. Here, in the heart of the New Mexico desert, the mysteries of the cosmos and the enigmas of the earth converged, and those who ventured into its depths were forever changed by the haunting beauty and unforgiving solitude of the night.

In that desolate expanse, an eerie congregation of four souls gathered. Before them lay what appeared to be a somber funeral pyre, its form a stark contrast to the vast and empty desert that surrounded it.

And among that peculiar quartet, one figure stood out—a man of Asian descent, his attire a simple yet striking burst of color against the monochrome desert backdrop. With dark, unruly hair and bespectacled eyes, he bore an air of both intellectual intrigue and resolute sadness. His companions, however, cloaked themselves in the uniformity of black dress suits, an oddity amplified by the inky shroud of the moonless night that rendered their sunglasses a needless enigma.

Amidst this curious assembly, a mystifying riddle loomed, a tapestry of enigma and uncertainty waiting to be unraveled in the quiet desert night.

-"Before we commence,"- The Asian man began, addressing his somber companions in black. -"I'd like to express my gratitude to the three of you for the considerable effort you undertook in transporting my friend's remains all the way from Indiana to New Mexico. I can only imagine the challenges you faced during this journey."-

-"You don't have to thank us, doctor. It's the least we can do for you."- One of the men in black addressed the foreigner. -"At least we can thank you for giving us those fake government IDs, that made the job easier for us... otherwise we wouldn't have gotten that tiger out of the zoo morgue so easily, especially after what happened five days ago back in Evansville… But I think there are some things we should discuss with you once we finish this, if that's possible..."-

-"Yes… I know that."- The brown haired man replied, with a neutral expression painted on his face, like he was trying to hide his anger, for some reason. -"I just heard the news from your bosses… I guess we'll discuss that at a later date…"-

-"I take it you're talking about those two men we couldn't deal with, right?"-

-"As I said,"- The man, a scientist, judging by the way the men in black were addressing him, responded with a certain tone of annoyance evident in his voice, trying to put aside the fact that those men had made a seeming blunder during their mission to bring the dead tiger to the Asian man. -"we'll discuss that another day. Right now, I'm glad my friend is here with me now, and that's all that matters to me, nothing more, and nothing less… and now… let's begin with this…"-

With a torch held aloft in his hand, the scientist of Asian descent wasted no more time. In a moment of dramatic flair, he ignited the torch's flame; the fire leapt forth eagerly, hungrily consuming the somber funeral pyre. Within its wooden confines lay the mortal remains of the once-mighty feline, taken from an Indiana zoo by the enigmatic men in black. They had embarked on a journey spanning over a thousand kilometers, from the heart of America's Midwest to the desolate expanses of New Mexico. There, in the heart of the forsaken desert, that man now conducted a ceremony fit for a monarch, in honor of the fallen beast.

As the flames enveloped the pyre, cradling the remains of the majestic tiger, they surged towards the heavens, resembling the legendary phoenix of myth, destined to be reborn from its very ashes; the man, his eyes fixed upon the fiery spectacle, bore a somber countenance, an unspoken hope etched across his features. He yearned for the implausible, a resurrection akin to the mythical bird, where the soul of his feline companion might someday find a way to rekindle its existence. For the tiger had endured a long and arduous life journey, full of dangers, pain and adventures, including a world war, culminating in a final sacrifice that would forever bind its destiny to that of its human friend.

Setting aside the morally complex nature of the tiger's sacrifice, it entailed an act of transgression, a criminal deed undertaken to shield his human comrade from the malevolent plot that entangled him; in the shadow of this criminal conspiracy, designed to eliminate all potential threats to the foreign-born man's clandestine ambitions, the tiger's complicity remained a matter of indifference. His singular desire was to conclude his mortal journey by rendering one last selfless service to his friend. Whether he concurred with the designs or not mattered little: He yearned for his final act to be an aid to his companion, fully aware that his own days were swiftly dwindling. If his fate was to meet the inevitable embrace of old age, the feline preferred to exit this world on his own accord, sparing his friend the anguish of witnessing his slow decline in a bedridden demise.

As the flames devoured the tiger's earthly vessel upon the pyre, the man, deeply moved, whispered a heartfelt tribute in his native tongue to honor his departed feline friend.

-"(さらばだ、ラグー…) So long, Raghu…"- The man of science spoke in Japanese. -"(ご冥福をお祈りいたします。) May your soul find peace in another better world…"-

And then…

-"(そして、助けてくれてありがとう、友よ。君の遺産は忘れられることなく、私のそばで永遠に生き続けるだろう。) And thank you for all your help, my dear friend… Your legacy will not be forgotten and will live forever by my side."-

Observing the Japanese scientist's tearful farewell as the funeral pyre consumed Raghu's remains in the heart of the New Mexico desert, one of the men in black present couldn't resist the urge to inquire when he overheard the man softly speaking words in Japanese, dedicated to the tiger.

-"Huh… Dr. Komatsu?"-

-"Yeah, what is it?"-

-"What did you say in your language, if I may ask?"-

Seeing the quizzical face of that man, Yoshinori Komatsu, after a brief moment of silence, decided to answer him in a sincere way.

-"Just a few words of farewell to him… as simple as that."-

Finally, that man, who along with his comrades had run a great risk to bring the corpse of that beast to that mysterious man for almost half a country, hoped to know something else about that animal that was being cremated before his eyes.

-"And… may we know the name of that tiger, doctor?"-

Komatsu, faced with such a simple question, but full of meaning, could only answer with a voice that showed his unease at the question asked by the American gunman.

-"It's one I'd like to take with me when I die…"

END OF ACT XXXIX