Crisis in Zootopia
Chapter VII A New Case
Judy and Nick visit Mr. Big, and are visited by the MBI
It was mid-afternoon, two days after Judy had been recertified, and she and Nick were on their way to visit Mister Big on department business. The Chief was sending them, and he had seemed bothered by it for some reason. In addition, she could tell something else was also now bothering Nick, and he had quietly signaled her not to speak. He was wriggling around in his car seat, examining his winter jacket for a time, and then had examined the collar of her jacket as well. He had then pulled out his pad and had written a note on it.
She finally stopped at a traffic light, and he showed her the pad. He had written, 'I've got a small transmitter of some kind under my collar. It wasn't there when we left Bogo's office.' They had been called in after lunch, and they had left their winter jackets on to see their boss.
Judy frowned but silently nodded, turning her attention back to the light. She mentally replayed their exit from the station. Only two mammals had approached them closely enough to have planted something on either of them: the two Wolves she had met from the MBI had gotten into the elevator and ridden with them to the garage.
Judy pulled into the parking area for Acme Shipping, Mister Big's main legitimate business venture. The two were rapidly shown into the Shrew's office, but Nick had shown a similar message to Raymond as the pair were escorted by him. As Mister Big had greeted them, Raymond had gestured to Nick, who had shown the message to the Shrew.
"And what can I do for you officers?" The Shrew had decided not to offer them refreshments under the circumstances, as he would have to treat them almost as strangers.
"We're interested in knowing about one of your smaller trucks, sir," Judy told him. "License ZC 20902."
"Raymond?"
The Polar Bear nodded, and went over to a computer terminal.
"Is there a problem with this vehicle?"
"We need to know its schedule, sir."
A printer spat out a sheet of paper. Raymond looked at his boss. "Yes?" the Shrew asked.
"Rented out last Friday, due back this evening," Raymond answered. He looked down at the officers. "We rent out many of the smaller trucks to those with the proper licenses. Almost half of the large trucks are hired to haul other's containers." Meaning the company was not responsible for what was hauled in those trucks.
"May we have that and a copy of the information on who rented the truck?" Judy asked.
"Of course," Mister Big told them, and Raymond went back to print out that information. "I take it there is a problem with the truck, or with its contents?"
"Yes, sir," Judy answered, giving Nick the nod. "However, we are not at liberty to disclose that information at this time. The ZPD will contact you when the truck itself is cleared." The Shrew nodded as Nick wrote on his pad; obviously someone had been using the truck for some illegal purpose. He looked over at Koslov.
The big Polar Bear shook his head, letting the three know that it hadn't been Mister Big's cargo.
Raymond simply handed the officers the other printouts. As Judy took the printouts, Nick stepped towards Koslov and showed him what he had written on his pad, 'Official cargo, hemp fiber, but with a chest containing thirty kilos of opium paste.' The Bear's eyes went wide.
"Thank you, sir," Judy merely said.
"Always ready to help the ZPD in their inquiries," Mister Big told them, knowing that Koslov would tell him what was written on the pad.
The pair went back to the station without much conversation.
When the pair arrived, they went to their respective locker rooms and, unlike earlier, hung up their outside coats and only then went to see the Chief.
Nick showed Bogo the note he had written Judy while Judy handed him the printouts. The Chief's eyes went wide and he frowned deeply. He reached into his desk and brought out a small (for him) electronic device, which he turned on and scanned the office, himself, and the two officers.
"We're clean in here," he growled. "I didn't have you bugged. Who did?"
"It was one of the MBI Wolves," Nick told him. "I saw one of them brush against Judy, and felt the other brush against me. I could tell they were trying to plant something on us. He succeeded with me, the other couldn't really reach down to Judy's level without being too obvious."
The Bull frowned more deeply than usual. "The bug is still on your collar?"
"Yes, sir."
"Neither of you wear those coats home, right?"
"That's correct, sir."
"Then leave it alone. We'll see if someone comes to collect it tonight. See me tomorrow after rollcall."
The two nodded and left his office.
While the two discussed the bug when they got home, they came to no conclusions about it.
Meanwhile, at the station, a little after midnight, a dark form came in through a special entrance near the ceiling. Seeing the path was clear, it flew down to the floor, found Nick's locker, and quickly picked the lock. Tucking the transmitter into her belt, the large Bat flew out of the building.
From a rafter, another Bat saw it all, but made no move to follow the intruder.
Judy and Nick went to the Chief's office the next morning, where they found the Chief, Croc, and, hanging from the ceiling light fixture, a small Horseshoe Bat in a constable patrol uniform.
"This is Patrol Officer McFly," Bogo rumbled. He looked up at the bat. "Report."
The Bat nodded. "At approximately Twelve-ten, a Spectral Bat in a Patrol uniform entered through the Bat Entrance to the locker room and flew immediately to Officer Wilde's locker. She picked the lock in less than half a minute, retrieved something from his jacket, closed the locker, and flew off with the object in a pouch on her belt. While I probably don't need to say so, she was not only obviously in the wrong locker room, there are no Spectral Bats in any of the Zootopia Patrol Troops." He nervously added, "There is only one colony of Spectrals in the area, and all the adults work for the MBI in some capacity. I was not seen."
Bogo nodded. "Good work, McFly. Keep this quiet."
"Very, sir – Spectrals keep to themselves around here and the rest of us like it that way, just so you know." The Bat flew off.
"Did the camera at the entrance catch her face?" Croc asked.
"Somehow, there were two short glitches in the camera feed," Bogo said in disgust. "The MBI must be hacked into our surveillance systems' live feeds. I'll have all the cameras in the building checked for such tampering starting next Monday." Hopefully the delay wouldn't give away the fact that the ZPT was on to them. He turned his glare at the two small mammals. "The MBI is after something. Any ideas what?"
"Could they be after Mister Big, and think I'm too close to his family?" Judy asked. As much as she liked Fru Fru and loved her goddaughter, this was a concern of Judy's.
"Possibly," the Chief conceded. "Not likely, though. They usually leave organizations like his to us to deal with on a case to case basis, rather than going for the organizations themselves."
"Why were those two agents in the station anyway?" Croc asked.
"They were here to turn the drug case over to us, and yes, they did 'mention' that Hopps and Wilde might be best to deal with Acme, as they said they didn't think Big was involved – mostly because the opium paste was actually contaminated and largely useless without more than usual processing and because Big has always steered clear of hard drugs. They were obviously hoping I would send these two to Acme, since they were hanging around nearly two hours later to plant the bug."
The four sat in silent contemplation for a moment, and then Judy asked, "Sir, who does the MBI answer to?"
"What do you mean?"
"The ZPD answers to the Mayor's Office and the rest of the City and County government, who are all elected. The Transit Authority, the Income Tax Office, the World Health and Science Organizations and such, and the MBI operate all over the world. Who do they answer to?"
"In the sense I think you mean, no one, which has at times bothered many people," Bogo told her. "We, and various regions, have the right to investigate all such organizations' local offices, however. And, of course, the various county governments have the right to question their civil servants at all levels, even the top. Why do you ask?"
"Nick, have you ever run across the MBI?"
Nick shook his head. "I've seen any number of MBI agents over the years – they always stick out – but I never had any contact with them."
"My only contact with them was over the Colbert murder," Judy reminded them. "No matter if he was part of a conspiracy, or uncovered one, the MBI took the investigation away from the ZPD. What if . . . what if they are part of whatever conspiracy there is?"
"I . . . I don't know, Hopps," Bogo admitted.
Arturus looked very serious. "You aren't the first person to wonder at some of the activities of the MBI, Judy. I know of six such instances where they were seriously investigated. One led to a criminal prosecution when a small group in the MBI were involved in a gambling ring. Four went nowhere as far as I know. The last . . . the Panther from the Prosecutor's Office went missing and was found dead with no leads three days later. Keep your wits about you and stay away from them if you can; if they are involved with anything, it's over our pay level."
"But not mine," Bogo stated. He turned back to the two smaller mammals. "I received a request yesterday afternoon from a colleague I know way out in the Far Northwest. I don't believe the MBI are behind it. I wasn't really considering it, but I think it's best you two are out of town for a while. Patrol today, but take tomorrow off to pack for an extensive trip. If you want to visit Bunnyburrow on your way, you can stop over tomorrow night. I want you to get at least as far as Snake Bay by Monday afternoon. Pick up the case file when you leave tonight. Clawhauser will have the travel credit cards ready for the pair of you. Be prepared to justify the expenses, so don't go overboard, Wilde. Hopps, don't be too stingy either. Dismissed."
The two acknowledged their orders and left the office.
"I hope they haven't run afoul of the MBI," Croc stated. "I like those two."
"The MBI are supposed to be looking after all of us," Bogo muttered, his distrust of the Bureau evident.
"But who really watches the watchers?" Croc agreed. He thought a moment, "Chief, something is going on around here that neither of us likes. Maybe I should transfer back here to help out."
"You, me, and Clawhauser," the Chief agreed.
As the pair prepared dinner that night, Nick asked, "Where the hell are we going, anyway? Where is Snake Bay?"
"Snake Bay is across the Western Sea, the major port in the Far North Region," Judy told him. "The Far Northwest Region is over the Great Western Mountains. The two stretch for some nine hundred miles south of Snake Bay and over a thousand miles north, where the Western Tundra Region starts. We're going almost due west of Snake Bay to Columbia Bay, where the Columbia River empties into the Great Ocean."
"Why us?"
"The south side of Columbia Bay is a huge Reserved County called Leporid County."
Nick frowned as he looked up from the bug burger he was frying himself. "I should know what 'reserved' means."
"Some counties and even regions only allow certain mammals to live there. Most of the Great Southeast is limited to the native marsupials and egg-layers – even Dingoes aren't allowed in most of it. Lemur Island is of course just for Lemurs. They all have to allow at least some visitors into at least one designated village, usually right on the border."
"I remember now." It had been a long time since Nick had studied Geography in Middle School. "Leporid? Bunnies?"
"It's about thirty-five percent Western Rabbits, five percent other types of rabbit, and the rest different types of hares. Jack Rabbits, at about sixteen percent, are the largest single group of hare there."
"Jack Rabbits aren't rabbits?"
Judy shook her head. "Nope. And no one knows why they're commonly called that. Some of them dislike the term. I don't think there are many Antelope Jacks there; they're the largest of us, and some prefer being called Great Hares, but I doubt many others do it. Nearly all the other Jacks where we're going are Black Tails, a bit smaller than the Antelopes but larger than me."
"And you knew all this? I'm impressed."
"I knew all this, but I admit I went on-line and refreshed my memory while I was booking our tickets," Judy admitted. "Try not to use the word 'bunny' for any specific Rabbit or Hare while we're anywhere near Leporid; grouping us all together like that might rub some of the locals the wrong way. Remember, to them, I'm nearly as much of an outsider as you."
The two ate dinner, but as they were cleaning up (Nick doing the dishes and Judy packing – her sister would come and clean anything that might spoil out of the fridge while they were gone and take it for her own use), he asked, "Why did they ask for help?"
"It's a nasty case, which the Rangers haven't cracked," Judy answered. "In fact, to be honest, there doesn't seem to have been a very serious investigation. There's a large island in the bay, and by large I mean just a bit smaller than the total area of Greater Zootopia. The outer coast is partially reserved for sea mammals – Seals, Sea Lions, Sea Otters, even the occasional Walrus, although most Walruses don't go that far south. There is a small settlement on east coast that is more developed – it seems to be a company town supporting two canneries and a fishing fleet – but the area in-between is mostly wilderness with some Field Mice settlements. Someone has killed some thirty Mice which strayed from their settlements. It's not natural predation. . . ."
"Predation?"
"Nick, this is a wildness area. There are hawks, eagles, owls, and the like there year round and snakes when it's warm. Even I'll have to watch the skies. You might have to as well."
For the first time, Nick was really worried about this case.
"Each Mouse was killed with a blow to the head and left to die from it. Only one lived long enough to be rescued, and he died shortly thereafter. He only said two words."
"And they were?"
"'The bunny'."
The pair was up earlier than Nick wanted, because they had to catch one of the westward bound trains that had a luggage car. "Do we really need all this stuff, Fluff? I mean, they should supply us. . . ."
"With food, tents, and the like if we need them, yes, if they have them in our sizes. Nick, I was serious about eagle attacks. It's winter there, and the place isn't climate controlled like here. I need that armored coat and the other winter gear, and so will you. It will probably at best only be up around freezing a few nights, and I doubt any day will be much over fifty. Our natural winter coats aren't as thick as they would be if we lived outside Zootopia." Seeing they couldn't be overheard, Judy added, "And we're not likely to get ammo refills that fit our size dart guns out there easily. We might also be gone several weeks; we need the extra clothes. If we're in the field, there won't be any place to recharge the stun guns if we use them. We might have to rely on the regular pistols or your rifle."
"All right, fine, you win," Nick conceded. The pair found seats away from the other riders their size.
"What do you think we're looking at?" Nick asked.
"I really don't know," Judy answered. "It makes no sense. The island – there seem to be three different names for it, depending on who's talking about it – was part of what is now Leporid County. There was a border war about a hundred and fifty years ago, part of the Final Unification, and the end result of that was Leporid County being set up," 'by who?' a voice in Judy's head demanded, "and expanded somewhat to the east and south, to more natural borders, but them losing the island. Lots of Rabbits still lived there – it seems the Hares left it around then. Then, around seventy-five years ago, there was a bunny plague, and the Rabbits left the island and Leporid mostly shut itself off from the rest of the world. There's no record of them being affected by the last plague, and there's not even a census record publicly available for the last seventy-eight years."
They went back to review what little they had.
As the train was approaching Bunnyburrow, Mister Big sat in his chair, considering the information at hand. Some had come from Nick, who had had Finnick deliver it that morning, the rest from his other excellent sources. The truck, or at least the contaminated opium paste (since it had been badly contaminated, it was likely deemed expendable), had been part of a sting or a scam, there was little doubt about that, but directed by who against whom? Against himself? Against Nick and Judy? Both?
'By who' would no doubt give him the answer, or the other way around. Very possibly it was Sett trying to set him up in revenge before his trial started. Or the MBI might have done it, which opened up the other possibilities. The Shrew frowned. The MBI was in many ways a law unto themselves, and although a relatively small group it was potentially very dangerous, but they were unlikely to be after him directly. His activities would more likely draw the attention of the ZPD and similar departments or various Prosecutor's Offices.
Something was going on, and he did not like not knowing. He had grown fond of the Rabbit, and until the incident with the rug, he had liked Nick, usually one of the more dependable scoundrels in the Zootopian rogues gallery. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was getting a bit too sentimental. He scowled; he at least needed an inkling as to what was going down around his empire and to his family, which, like it or not, now included two cops. (And, he had to admit to himself, he really did like that Judy was part of his personal family).
How to find out?
Anything on the streets would be filtered through to him, but he needed something more. Someone who could hunt through lots of information, hack anything that needed to be hacked, and someone he could trust even more than usual. And that meant the one computer hacker he trusted above all others – Fru Fru.
"So, now what do you think we have?" Nick asked after the pair had finished lunch on the train and finishing their reading of the files.
"I still don't know," Judy replied.
"Aw, come on. Some bunny is after revenge or is just plain nuts."
Judy shook her head. "If a bunny or a group was after revenge for losing the island, they'd more likely be attacking the mammals in the fishing village."
"Is that what they are? Fishing villages, I mean."
Judy called up a file on her laptop screen. "Well, one village serving two canneries and a fishing fleet," she reminded him. "Deep water fishing, mostly tuna. They aren't even allowed to fish with a rod for fun; the fish around the island are reserved for the sea mammals. This is by agreement with the various sea mammals and the salmon fisheries up-river. One company village and the fleet, mostly River Otters and related species, and two canneries, with a pack of Wolves for security. There's no hint of trouble with the village, the canneries, or from the sea mammals. Why attack the Field Mice?" She thought. "Unless. . . ."
"Unless what?"
"This is crazy, but think about Leporid County. The mammal population actually is currently all bunnies."
"Yeah?"
"How many other mammals had to have been displaced? Not just the native mammal predators, like Cougars and maybe Coyotes, Foxes, and Wolves, maybe one or both types of Bears – but there had to have been some kind of browsers – some sort of deer, and maybe Moose or Elk. There also had to have been lots of rodents, some sort of Squirrel and of course the Mice, not to mention River Otters or someone similar; Raccoons and Skunks maybe?"
"True, and so?"
"It could be one nut, bunny or not, who thinks they have some sort of claim on the land, or . . . or maybe the Field Mice are causing trouble in the County, and some bunny or group is targeting Field Mice in revenge?"
"That last one seems bit of a stretch on the evidence."
"There is no evidence for motive," Judy retorted. "And I'm not saying, if the attacks are some sort of retaliation, that it would be justified in any way, since the Field Mice killed would likely have nothing to do with it." She sighed. "I think that's why it's been dumped on us."
"What 'why'?"
"The authorities out there don't trust the bunnies, and try to ignore them and the bunnies don't trust any outsider. So yes, you're probably right, it's likely either some group in Leporid is involved, or as you also said, some crazed bunny or someone with a similar motive is doing this on their own, but the authorities don't know how to deal with it. There have been thirty killings, Nick – the Field Mice are no doubt kicking up a fuss but it seems like the Columbia County officials don't care, and the Rangers only have a limited presence in Columbia itself, and rarely have one on the island. They don't seem to be very interested in the West Coast at all, and they would also have to change their attitudes even more to care about Field Mice who have partially cut themselves off and to deal with Leporid, which is almost totally cut off. By bringing us in, we will take any heat if things are upset."
Nick looked worried again. They went back to studying what little they had.
As the train was pulling into the Bunnyburrow Station, several thousand miles away a meeting was starting. Four mammals sat around a round table with five chairs in an otherwise empty room. Four of the chairs were well-worn, the fifth looked new or at least unused, and had a light covering of dust.
"Well," the second smallest mammal said, "all preparations for PB-16 are in place. It will start in two weeks."
"Are we sure we need to do this?" the smallest almost pleaded.
The first mammal looked at his three colleagues. As usual, one looked asleep, but that that was sometimes deceptive. The largest looked a bit troubled as he picked at the fruit plate in front of him. "It is," the first speaker stated firmly. "We were all in agreement; do either of you two disagree?"
"No," the largest admitted. "It is necessary. However, you seem a bit too enthusiastic about this. It is a necessary decision, not a welcomed one."
The first mammal frowned. "We guard the world; this is necessary."
The sleepy mammal opened one eye. "Too true. I note that the Rabbit officer and her partner have been sent off to the Far West on a case." He popped a dried blueberry in his mouth and shut his eye again.
"So?"
"It's good she may be out of the way," the smallest commented.
"She's just one Rabbit," the first snapped at her.
"One that exemplifies what we hope the world will become," the largest retorted.
"Irrelevant to the discussion," the first snapped.
"Is it?" The sleepy mammal stirred himself. "Think, Muggs. She is really still just a rookie cop, and her partner is fresh out of their Academy. Do you think Bogo would send them off on what to those not directly affected seem to consider to be a somewhat unimportant case that far away just because she was requested? No; I think your agents gave themselves away somehow, and he knows the MBI have an unexplainable interest in at least one of them – your interest, that is. Just because she was in Colbert's house, there is no reason to think she knows anything. If she did, we would have learned about it before now. No; your MBI screwed up, in part because of the pressure you put on the system, and Bogo is getting them out of town. I expect the ZPD will be looking at the local MBI rather closely. Have them cut any detection devices out of their system this weekend."
"If they were going to find anything, they would have found it."
"No," the mammal replied, shaking his huge head. "Bogo would wait so there wouldn't be a direct correlation to what they've done the last few days and then sweep of the ZPD headquarters. He'll start in Monday morning."
The first scowled, but acknowledged that the speaker probably knew what he was talking about. "I'll have my mammals issue the instructions. Anything else?" He looked around. "No, then there is only the approval of Sally Goodall for the post overseeing the Health organization, with Sam MacGregor replacing her."
"No," the largest stated.
"What do you mean, 'no'?! They're both the most qualified. . . ."
"That would put members of your clan in charge of over twenty-seven percent of the oversight positions," the small female stated.
"Only by a fraction. . . ."
"Over is over," the largest stated. "Clayton Grey gets the promotion to Sally's spot, or she doesn't get promoted."
Seeing he would be outvoted, the first speaker acquiesced and then left the room.
"That clan is over-reaching itself," the female stated. "Again."
"And Muggs and his clique are behind it," the largest stated.
The third popped some more dried blueberries into his mouth, chewed, and then said, "We might have to deal with him, even if this operation is a success. He's becoming . . . rather too possessive of his Guardianship and is enjoying the powers too much. We are the Guardians of the World, for all mammals, not just the four surviving clans."
The other two could only nod.