Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.
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The Fire Triangle
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Part Two:
Oxidizer
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Chapter 7-The Cascade Effect
(Cont'd...Part 2)
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Monday. 08:11 EST, Zoo York City, Zoo York
"Aggggh, grrrr....not again!"
"Still can't get through?" Martin Pennanti looked over from the driver's seat with a concerned expression on his face.
"No," Nick waved his cell as if attempting to get the fisher's attention, "Same message as before; 'All circuits are busy, please try your call again later.'" It was a good thing the windows were up, the fox reflected. Otherwise, he'd be tempted to pitch his cell-phone into oblivion.
Being a crepuscular species, he hadn't been bothered when Pennanti had called at 7 that morning, summoning him to a meeting. Or that is, he wouldn't have been bothered if it hadn't been for all the stinking jet lag; for him it was 5 AM right now. And the weather wasn't helping either; it was seriously muggy in Zoo York this morning. By mid-afternoon this place was going to make The Rainforest District seem like Tundratown. Well, at least his guide's car had air conditioning, but uhhh...why had he jumped on this assignment again?
"That's not so good, Nicky," Pennanti was frowning deeply, "Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you got something serious going on over there." He pointed at the car deck, where a song by an Italian rock band the fox had never heard of was playing.
♪ "Senza dirmi una parola
Sei fuggita all'improvviso
Hai capito forse che ti amo?" ♫
"Wanna check and see if there's anything on the news?" the fisher asked him.
Nick almost said yes, but then hesitated...he wouldn't need to report in until after the upcoming meeting.
"Mmmmm, noooo...I need to keep focused on the task ahead, if you know what I mean."
"Good mammal," Pennanti nodded approvingly, "Okay, now here's how this sit-down is going to work. After I introduce you, I'm gonna take off and leave you guys alone. Then you can start asking your questions. When you're done, call me on my cell and I'll come get you, got it?"
"Mmm, yeahhh," Nick answered slowly and dubiously, "Why do you need to leave us alone though?" So far, his companion's thoughts and ideas had been valuable in the extreme; it would have been useful to have him there.
"Coz my guy says so," Pennanti gave him a hard look, and then shrugged. "I dunno why, but if that's how he wants it, that's how he gets it; he's taking a big chance, even agreeing to meet with you." He sighed and rapped the steering wheel. "You may as well know, Nicky; the word's out at One Police Plaza-straight from the Commissioner's office no less-keep the fox in a holding pattern and keep your distance...or else."
It didn't take a great deal of reckoning on Nick's part to figure out which fox Commissioner Waghorn had been referring to. More and more, he was beginning to hope he'd never have to meet that Aurochs bull face to face-although deep down he knew the confrontation was inevitable.
"So, who am I meeting with today," he queried, "another police officer?"
"Yep, that's the deal," the fisher answered, honking his horn at a car that had just cut in front of him-and getting a rude gesture for the effort. "Ahhh, that's one of the things I miss about being a cop, Nicky; if a guy did that back in the day, I could put on the lights and watch 'im melt. Anyway, that's all I'm gonna tell you about my guy for now. I'll give you the full details when I make the intro."
"Okay," the fox replied, and then turned to look out the window at the passing scenery. Whoa, he just felt so out of his depth here. Back in Zootopia, a quick glance at his surroundings was all it took to know exactly where he was. Here in Zoo York; for all he knew, Martin Pennanti might be driving him to...to...
Sayyy, wait a minute! Dumb fox, he should have at least asked....
"Uhhhh say Martin...where are we going anyway?"
"Uptown, to The Cloisters," the fisher replied, and then anticipating Nick's next question, followed up with a brief explanation. "It's an annex of the Metropolitan Museum of Art-big collection of medieval artwork. They got The Hunt of the Unicorn tapestry in there, and a whole bunch of other interesting pieces. It'll just now be getting ready to open up for the day, so there won't be any crowds yet, capisce?"
"Right I got it," the red fox nodded. He might be a newbie to this city, but he was no stranger when it came to meeting someone on the sly-and he knew a thing or two about how to handle himself in that kind of situation.
None of this prepared him for his first look at The Cloisters. Holy Foxtrot, no wonder Pennanti had chosen this location for a meeting place. The fisher's Coltsmobile had pulled away from the curb in Barklyn, Zoo York-and now it was pulling up in front of a Tuskan Monastery. It was all there, the boxy architecture, the stucco exterior, the high, arched windows, a towering, ivy-covered, greystone wall, angular, sloping roofs, topped off with terra cotta tile, and even a squat, square-tipped bell tower.
Getting out of the car, Nick made a beeline for The Cloisters front entrance, only to be halted in his tracks by a two-fingered whistle.
"Not that way Nicky, follow me." Pennanti was beckoning with a sweep of his arm.
"'Kay," the fox replied, performing a puzzled about-face, "but if we're not going in through the front door, why'd you park so close to it?"
Pennanti answered with an exaggerated shrug, "Hey, in this town if you see a parking spot, you grab it, and don't worry if there might be something closer to where you're going. Now, c'mon...my guy gave me till ten minutes from now and if we're not at the meet-point by then, he won't be."
He turned and strode briskly away with the red fox hurrying to catch up.
A moment later they were standing in front of a roll-up service door, around the backside of the museum. There was a bell and an intercom, but Pennanti ignored them both, instead knocking with the flat of his pawlm in an odd pattern: two fast raps, two slow raps, and then three more fast ones.
As the door began to rise, he turned and spoke to Nick.
"This isn't him, paisan; he's just the guy, gonna let us in."
"Right gotcha," the fox answered, hiding his chagrin. That was exactly what he would have thought if he hadn't been informed otherwise; this fisher was one sharp mammal.
Pennanti, meanwhile, was baring his teeth and making lifting gestures at the door. "Cmon....C'mon, you under sedation here or WHAT?"
When it came up all the way, they found themselves in the presence of a slightly grizzled, slightly paunchy cougar in a slate-gray security guard's uniform. Though a relative newcomer to law enforcement, Nick Wilde was a hard-bitten veteran when it came to sizing someone up-and this cat had 'retired cop' practically written all over him.
His manner was half jolly, half sardonic.
"Don't look at me, Marty; I been complaining about that door since the day I started work here."
"Lemme guess," the fisher replied, equally satirical. "Every time you do, they tell you it's in next year's budget, right?"
"You got it," the cougar sniggered, and then became serious, "But never mind; your guy's waiting for you over by the chapel. Better hurry, if you want to catch him."
Pennanti nodded then gestured to Nick. "Thanks Sammy. Okay, let's go, paisan."
"No charge," the cougar replied, hitting the button to close the door.
They found the animal they were looking for standing by the chapel entrance, pretending to read a visitor's guide. There was no need for Pennanti to point him out; Nick recognized him at once-and when he did, his jaw nearly hit the floor.
He was an elk...the SAME elk that had rousted him during his visit to One Police Plaza.
"What the FOX?"
In lieu of a greeting, he folded away the visitor's guide and nodded tersely at Pennanti, ignoring the fox beside him as if he wasn't there.
"You barely made it, Lieutenant; one more minute and I'd have been out of here." He glanced nervously in the direction of the door, "You sure you weren't followed?"
Pennanti spread his arms in a, 'what-are-you-kidding?' gesture.
"Hey Willie-Boy, it's me over here."
The elk lifted his muzzle and stretched his neck downward, as if preparing to bugle.
"Yeah, yeah...easy for you to say, bub; if Chief Anthill finds out I so much as gave you the time of day..." he shuddered slightly, unable to complete the sentence. "All right, let's go upstairs."
He led them to the bell tower and a winding, four-cornered staircase. It only went up to the third floor, but that was as high as they could have gone anyway. There was nothing above the sparsely furnished wooden platform but a triple phalanx of church-bells.
"Oh-kayyy," Penannti put his paws on his hips. "You pretty much know Nick's story, Willie-Boy, but he doesn't know yours, so..." he turned to the fox, gesturing upwards with a paw at the animal they'd come to see. "Nicky, this is Sergeant Bill, 'Willie-Boy', Wapiti. On the day of the Finagles raid, he was one of the guys running crowd control. If anybody coulda got out of there..."
"Hey, I already told you...!" the elk interrupted but was silenced by a wave of the fisher's paw.
"If anyone would know something, it's him. Okay, I'm gonna leave you alone now and head back downstairs."
As he watched his companion descend out of sight, Nick finally understood something; why they were meeting here and why Wapiti wanted to speak with him alone. It wasn't that he didn't trust Martin Pennanti, just the opposite. Those stairs were the only way in or out of this bell-tower, and so narrow that even if he and the fisher had come here alone, they still would have been obliged to make their ascent walking in single file. Yes, this way his companion could keep watch and alert them if the ZYPD showed up. Of course, they'd be trapped up here if that happened...or, would they? He strongly suspected that there was another exit from this place and that it was well-known to both his host and the animal he'd come to meet.
There was, however, something else that he couldn't quite wrap his head around.
He turned and spoke to the elk.
"Before we get started, Willie Boy..."
At once he found himself looking down the barrel of a 'talk-to-the-hoof' gesture.
"Pennanti calls me that, Fox. YOU don't...got that?"
Ohhhh, this was getting off to a great start!
"All right, sorry...Sergeant Wapiti, then," Nick moved on as smoothly as he could. And then he lowered one eyebrow while raising the other, "Why are you doing this? The first time we met, back at One Police Plaza, you were halfway ready to throw me into a holding cell."
Now the elk was showing him both hooves, but this time in a defensive gesture. "That was Anthill's orders, not me okay?" And then, surprisingly, his tone became almost reverential. "And that was before I found out you were hooked up with Martin Pennanti. The brass may hate that fisher's guts...but to the cops on the street he's the GOAT." He looked away, lowering his voice and speaking mostly to himself. "If we had our way, he'd be Commish right now..."
It was an explanation Nick hadn't asked for, but one that he was glad to hear. So the antagonism against his guide wasn't universal; it was a good thing to know.
However, that wasn't what he'd come here to find out. And if he was going to find out anything, he would need to get his diplomat on. He looked up at the elk, allowing his ears to fall backwards.
"I heard what you started to say back there; that no one could have gotten out of Finagles on the day of that raid without the ZYPD spotting them. All right, I accept that, but indulge me, please; I'm new around here. How do you know this?"
Wapiti cracked his knuckles, looking thoughtful for a second, "Ahhh, where to begin? Okay, first of all, we had Finagles under surveillance for more than five days before we went in. Nobody was seen leaving that place who didn't return on the day of that raid...uh, for that meeting the Company was having. Every service vehicle seen making a stop at Finagles-and there were only three of 'em-was searched, top to bottom, after it left the premises. Trust me, if during that time period your diamond guy had passed in or out of that joint we'd have known about it. We had every street covered for two whole blocks; we had drones, remote cameras, aerial surveillance, even satellite imaging. That club was on our scopes like you wouldn't believe."
Nick felt his ears rising and had to force them to stay down; that sounded like a few too many resources for even the ZYPD to possess. He wanted very much to pursue the subject, but had a feeling that if he did, Wapiti would summarily end the interview.
In any case it wasn't relevant, and so he kept his mouth shut and just listened.
"The area where Finagles used to be is all built up now," the elk was saying, "but back in the day, it pretty much sat out by itself with a big parking lot on one side. That's where we set up our police cordon; on the edge of that lot. There was nothing between us and that club but a big stretch of open ground with nowhere to hide except a few light poles. Nobody was getting across No Mammal's Land-that's what we called it-without us making him, not even the littlest rodent." He paused and folded his arms, "and your diamond mule had to be bigger than rodent size anyway."
"And...was the front door the only way in or out of that club...on that side I mean...was there any other exit?" Even to Nick, it sounded weak, but it was the only thing he could think of.
Wapiti's answering head shake, however, was as firm as a marble column.
"Even if there was, it wouldn't have done any good; you'd still have had to get from there to the other side of the police line without being seen. And anyway, there wasn't; I'm telling you, Wilde, we had that place owned. We had schematics, blueprints-even the original plans from more than 175 years ago, when the place was built as an icehouse. We knew every possible way in or out of Finagles, and we had every single one of 'em clocked."
"Oh-kayyy," Nick puffed out his cheeks, sorely tempted to pose his second question. Instead he skipped to the third one. "But that only covers the front side, what about the back side?"
To his immediate surprise, the elk responded with a big, broad grin.
"Hey, if anybody could of gotten out that way, Pennanti would have already told you."
"Wha...What?" This time Nick allowed his ears to rise.
"That's the side where Full House went in," Wapiti pointed as if the door was right in front of them ...while the ears of the fox he was addressing commenced to working back and forth in even more confusion.
"The Full...WHO?"
"The team of detectives Pennanti headed up, before he pulled the pin." The elk rolled his hoof in the air as he spoke, "Yeah, they managed to get into the club ahead of everybody else..."
Nick hastily raised a paw. He would have loved to know more about this...but a promise is a promise. "Okay, I have to stop you right there. I said when I got here that I didn't come to Zoo York to make trouble over the Finagles raid-and that sounds an awful lot like trouble to me. Unless what you're about to tell me has any bearing on the identity of that diamond courier, you probably shouldn't be talking about it."
"Ohhhh, right, right, right;" Wapiti lowered his gaze, shuffling his hooves like a school-calf called before the teacher. "Noooo, it doesn't...but you get the idea. If anyone had tried to get out that way, he'd have known it for sure. I will say this though. The Full House didn't make it into Finagles without being spotted themselves; they were seen, but they got away with it coz they made their move AFTER the balloon went up. Everyone thought at first it was part of the Op...and you better believe they didn't get out again without being noticed."
A deep frown began to crease its way around Nick's muzzle. There was something important in the elk's words, a clue. But for the life of him, he couldn't get a grip on it.
Sooo, he figured he might as well go back to the question he'd bypassed earlier.
"Mmmmm, all right, I get it. But none of this is anything Martin Pennanti couldn't have told me-so, why'd he want me to meet with you in the first place?"
"Beats me," the elk admitted, honestly, "you're right, there's nothing I told you here that he doesn't know himself."
Okay, yes, the red fox mused; but Pennanti wouldn't have set up this meeting in the first place if he didn't think there was information to be had. Hmmmm, perhaps a change of gears was in order.
"All right...is there anything you can tell me that he wouldn't know?"
Nick had no idea where that question had come from, but knew at once it was the right one to ask.
Wapiti angled his head and pulled at his chin.
"Not much that I can think of, to tell you the truth. Hmmmm, well him and his crew couldn't see what was happening over on my side of the club...but it was pretty much the same thing that always goes down when the ZYPD sets up a police cordon; a zillion gawkers, trying to sneak past the barricades for a closer look at the action."
Nick folded his arms and nodded knowingly. That was one thing their respective police departments had in common.
"Yeah, we get the same thing in Zootopia," he said...and immediately wished he hadn't. His last experience with a crowd of rubberneckers had been during the Flora and Fauna fire.
"Pred and prey...keep away!"
"Not like before the Finagles raid, I bet," the elk was grinning again, and warming to his subject, "Craziest scene ever; I even had these two slacker kids show up and try to pass themselves off as a news team."
"What, really?" Nick was staring in amazement. Okay-y-y. Zoo York City had Zootopia beat in that department, at least.
"Yep, swear to God," Wapiti raised hoof while putting the other one over his heart. "I'll never forget 'em. A guy sable and a chinchilla girl, both of 'em looking like they were dressed for a swap meet...had this old, old camcorder with them, the kind that used VHS tapes, still had the yard-sale tag on it." He lifted his head and blew a note at the ceiling. "Whoo and you should have seen that van they were driving; rolling junkyard. Bald tires, dents all over it, no front grill, and all done up in primer. To this day, I still can't figure how that rig was even still running-or how the heck they were able to drive it; way too big for either of their species."
"Mmmmm," Nick just nodded, trying not to think about Finnick and HIS van, now in little better shape than that one, thanks to...noooo, don't go there.
"Oh and get this,'' the elk was saying, "On the side it said 'Free Net News Serfice'-that's 'service' spelled with an 'F'-put on with stencils and day-glo spray paint."
All right, that was too much for even a hustling fox to take. Nick threw back his head in a hearty laugh, joined by the elk he had come to meet.
After what seemed like a good ten minutes he was finally able to speak again.
"Don't tell me, let me guess; when you told them to clear out, they started yapping about freedom of speech and the rights of the press."
Wapiti cocked a finger and winked. "You got it Wilde, the whole nine yards." His hooves went to his hips and his lip curled up in a cervine sneer, "I swear, if there hadn't been a crowd watching...I would have picked those idiots up and thrown them back over the barricades."
Nick felt his head tilting sideways. Even for Zoo York City that sounded a little excessive. But then, Wapiti hadn't actually done it, and so...
"So, did they finally take the hint or did you have to get the cuffs out?"
"Nah, they took off on their own, thank God," the elk answered him, fanning a hoof and then shaking his head-a wee bit exasperated, even three years after the event, "But then no sooner were they gone, then along comes this silver fox kid, trying to...huh? Wilde what is it?"
Nick didn't hear the question; only the same three words that kept repeating in his head like a drumbeat.
"Silver fox kid; silver...fox...kid."
No way...it couldn't be.
Could it?
"Ummm. can you hold on for just a second?" He made a fast draw for his cell phone, hoping he'd brought it with him. He had, but dangit, he'd left it turned off. He pressed the power button and waited...and noticed that Sergeant Wapiti was giving him a VERY evil eye. "I'm just looking for a picture," he told the elk, fighting off a rising panic. Aggghh, grrrr...okay, his phone was powered up but where was that icon for the photo album? Okay, there it was but where was that...? He began to scroll rapidly. "Just bear with me for a second, please. I promise I won't use the camera or make any ca..."
Success...there it was. He turned the phone around and showed it to the elk.
"This is probably a goose-chase but take a look please. That silver fox kid you just mentioned...is this him?"
Wapiti took the phone and looked at it-and then immediately held it away as if it was giving off radiation.
"Yeah, that looks like him...sorta." He scrutinized the screen more closely for a second and then looked down at Nick again. "Who is he?"
Ohhhh, there were so many answers to that question...but only one that would bring in the desired response.
Nick pointed to his arm-where the bite marks had long since faded, but the fur had not yet grown back all the way.
"He's the kid who gave me this," he told the elk, sounding properly grim. At once Wapiti's ears went back, and his left hoof pawed the floorboards. Nothing, absolutely nothing, gets a police mammal's dander up like an assault on a brother officer...no matter what city they hail from.
"No kidding? Oooo, I hope you nailed that punk good."
Nick sighed and pretended to shrug, reminding himself not to lay it on too thick. "I did; that's the good news. The bad news is, he escaped from custody the day after his arraignment. As far as I know, he's still at large."
"Son of a..." Wapiti pounded at an invisible wall and studied the picture a second time, frowning and scratching behind an ear, seemingly trying to remember something. Then he stopped and snapped his fingers. "I can't see his eyes in this photo, Wilde....but are they like a glowing amber in color, kinda like...mmmm, burning coals?"
Jackpot! Nick was barely able to contain his elation. Yes...just as he'd suspected all along, but never dared to suggest to anyone else...
...Until now!
No wait, scratch that; not now. To Martin Pennanti maybe, but not to this individual; he had already revealed himself as a careless talker-nearly bringing up the sordid side of the Finagles raid without any kind of prompting.
"Yep that's him," he said, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "And talk about Karma-part of the reason I was sent here is because my Chief wanted to get me as far away from that kid as possible."
Wapiti folded his arms again, nodding like a wise, old shaman. "'Fraid you might take that bite fursonally, huh? Yeah, I can relate. What's the kid's name anyway?"
"Conor Lewis," Nick told him, tacking on a hopeful note. "I uh, don't suppose that name rings a bell?" He was sure it wouldn't, but you never knew.
Sure enough, it didn't
"Nope, never heard of him,"
Nick flipped a paw back and forth, in a 'no big deal' gesture
"Didn't think you would; that's not his real name anyway...but, uh...by any chance did you see which way he went."
"Sorry," Wapiti shrugged, eyes darting in the direction of the stairs, "once he was back behind the police line, he wasn't my problem anymore." He sounded more than a shade defensive and Nick thought he knew why; the elk was just now beginning to realize something. Three years previously, however unwittingly, he had aided a felon in making his escape from the law.
And that called for a little quick reassurance.
"Yeah, right...you had to be on the lookout for the next line jumper...and who'd a thunk back then that the kid would end up being wanted by the ZPD someday?"
"Yeah, right!" Wapiti echoed rapidly, all but pouncing on the opening Nick had given him; no that fox-kid hadn't been the diamond courier; of course he hadn't...and so there'd been no valid reason to detain him.
Nick believed otherwise, but wasn't about to say so...not merely to offer the elk some peace of mind but again because he didn't want his theory to go any further up the ZYPD chain of command. What he'd just learned wasn't gold, it was solid platinum.
"I've got you punk...I've got you! If you were The Company's diamond mule, no WAY can Bogo not let me go after you. And grrrrr, when I get my paws on you, you're going to fox-scream every time you even THINK about what you did to Judy."
But then Wapiti looked hastily at his watch; sheesh what a nervous Nellie.
Or...were the Zoo York PD brass hats really that fearsome?
"Ummm, listen Wilde..." he started to say, but Nick was already raising a paw.
"Okay-y-y, I think I've heard enough." He pulled out his cell-phone and hit 'speed dial'. "Marty, we're done up here; we're coming back down."
"Uh, negative Nick; send Willie Boy down, but you stay up there for a few, okay?"
"No problem," the red fox replied, with an air of self-reproach. Right, right; they shouldn't be seen leaving together. He was about to disconnect, when Wapiti held out a hoof in his direction. "Lemme talk to him for a sec, okay?"
Nick obligingly passed him the phone; it looked like a toy in the elk's big hoof.
"Okay Pennanti, I did what you asked...so we're even now, right?"
As he listened to the reply, Wapiti's ears laid back and his nose wrinkled as if he'd just caught a whiff of a particularly foul odor. For perhaps a second or two, Nick was afraid that his phone was going to break; the elk was clutching it in practically a death-grip.
"It helps? It HELPS! That's all you got to say?" He blew an angry bugle from the depths of his throat. "Mooeeeeee-AH! I should have known better; stinkin' member of the weasel family. Just get out of my life for a while, okay?"
He tossed the phone back to Nick-almost threw it really-and then went stomping off in the direction of the stairs without even so much as a farewell glance.
Nick watched him go with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. What the heck could Pennanti have done to put him that deep into his debt?
He gave it a minute or two, and was just about to make his own exit when the fisher surprised him by appearing at the head of the stairs. He took an immediate step backwards...and then another one. The look on his guide's face was somber in the extreme.
"Better siddown Nicky," he said, waving his paw in the direction of a dirt-smeared workbench, parked against a wall. "I got news, and it's gonna sting."
Seating himself so skittishly that he forgot to wipe off the bench first, Nick looked up with a trembling tail. "Um...all right, what?"
The fisher's jaw-and his fists-all clenched simultaneously.
"It just came over the wires, Nicky; Sammy Miklos told me about it. Your ZPD got hit by a cyberattack last night."
Nick was back on his feet in a nanosecond. "No!"
"Yep, 'fraid so," Pennati replied, pursing his lips into a thin flat line. "That's why you couldn't get through on your cell."
For what seemed like an eternity, the fox was unable to speak. The ZPD...a cyberattack? That wasn't just impossible, it was unthinkable. How? Who? And WHY? When he finally found his voice again, the best he could manage was two short words.
"How bad?"
"Really bad, Nick," Pennanti told him, laying a paw on the fox's shoulder, "There was a crowd of kids, protesting outside ZPD HQ when the attack went down. They rioted when they saw, and then the whole thing just snowballed. Long story short, your Savanna Central Plaza's a total wreck; che infame, you should have seen that helicopter footage!"
No, Nick silently disagreed-no, he shouldn't.
And he didn't want to see it, although he knew that sooner or later, he'd have to.
The fisher, meanwhile, had plenty more to tell him.
"Their main target was Juvenile Detention...the hackers I mean. They let all the kids out of their cells and then opened the doors leading out to the street. There's no details yet on how many got away, but it was a lot."
For the second time in less than half a minute, Nick was dumbstruck. Protesters...what protesters? Chief Bogo hadn't said anything about protesters the last time they'd talked. And what the heck had they been protesting?
And another riot...ANOTHER one? Oh Lord, he hoped Judy had been home at the time.
And why had the hackers targeted the youth jail? Wait, hold it...Pennanti had called the protesters 'kids'. Could there be some kind of connection? Heck yes, there was; he knew it in the core of his bones.
But...did that mean...could Conor possibly have had anything to do with that cyberattack?
"Wake up Nick, and do your job!"
THAT brought him right back down to mother earth.
"About TIME you showed up," the red fox snarled at his inner voice. To Martin Pennanti he said, "What about casualties? Did they say?"
"At least a couple dozen," the fisher replied, angrily slapping his paws together, "Didn't say how bad, or how many were cops." He took in a short, sharp breath. "And at least one killed...one of the kids in Juvie Detention. Can't say I'm surprised; there's nothing like a jailhouse rumble for settling old scores."
Nick could only nod in agreement-before shaking himself and trying to shake off his fury.
"Come on Slick, keep it together. You know what you need to do."
"Except I CAN'T!" he lamented, realizing only too late that he'd said the words out loud.
"Huh, what's that, Nicky?" Pennanti was peering at him with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow.
Nick responded by pulling out his cell again, holding it up like Exhibit 'A'.
"I picked up some very valuable information from Sergeant Wapiti upstairs," he said, "the kind that needs to be relayed right now!" He waggled the phone and repeated himself, "Except I CAN'T!"
"Aw, cripe!" The fisher grimaced as if he'd just come upon a particularly grisly crime scene. "Okay then Nicky...only one thing to do. You got your chief's fursonal cell number in there...or anyone else in your department?"
As a matter of fact, the fox did...but he was loathe to make use of it, especially after his trip down the dark side of Memory Lane only a few short moments ago.
Ahhh heck...who was he kidding? He was really afraid of hearing that she'd been hurt again.
He turned the phone over and pressed the button for his contacts list...scrolling quickly to the letter 'C'.
As the call began to buzz, he found himself half-hoping that she wouldn't pick up.
But of course she did. "This is Ju..."
Nick brought the phone in close to his ear, and began to talk rapidly.
"Carrots, it's Nick. Don't hang up, this is...Sorry but ...Yes, I know, but I can't...Will you please listen for just a...? CARROTS, CONOR WAS THE DIAMOND COURIER!"
That did the trick...in more ways than one. All around him animals were staring, goggle-eyed. At least two were putting fingers to their lips, and one old muskrat was wagging her finger. "Quiet there, who do you think you are?"
As for Martin Pennanti, his arms were crossed and he was patting his elbows, gazing upwards at the ceiling as if to say, 'I have NO idea who this fox is.'
Nick couldn't have cared less...about any of it. At last Judy was listening to him.
"Come on Carrots, you know I'd never kid about a thing like that." He chewed on his lip and then sucked on it. "Uhhh, that's kind of a long story. Uh, noooo, I'm not entirely sure. But he was definitely seen outside of Finagles on the day of the raid-on the wrong side of the police line."
"What's this?" Now Martin Pennanti was the animal raising his voice. Nick ignored him for the moment, continuing to speak to his former partner.
"One of the officers working crowd control identified him. Look, I'll give you the full story later. Right now, I need you to get hold of either Lieutenant Saw or Big Chief Buffalo Nickel. Can you...Oh really? Great, that's perfect."
Judy's next few words were almost background noise, "Sir...I-I-I think you're going to want to hear this."
A half-moment of silence followed and then Bogo's gruff voice came on the line. It seemed to echo slightly...as if he was speaking from inside of a tiled bathroom. That told Nick his call had been transferred to a speaker-phone, hardly a surprising turn of events given the relative sizes of his chief's hoof and Judy Hopps's cell. "Right, what's all this then, Wilde?" he snorted, adding in a low menacing tone, "It had better be very important."
"I wouldn't have called Detective Hopps directly if it wasn't sir," Nick swiftly decided that he'd better tone it down a little. "It looks like Conor Lewis may be our diamond courier. I just now learned that he was spotted outside Finagles on the morning of the police raid...on the wrong side of the barricades."
He was answered by more silence, and for one, dreadful moment he thought the Chief had hung up on him.
But then Bogo's voice came back again, speaking slowly and deliberately.
"Right then...scale of one to ten, how certain are you of this?"
"Eight-and-a-half sir," the fox replied, trying not to sound overconfident. "The animal who identified him was one of the officers in charge of crowd control, and he was able to describe the Lewis kid's eyes without being prompted; thought he was a thrill-seeker trying to get close to the action and ordered him back behind the police line."
"That could have been exactly what Mr. Lewis was doing there," the big Cape buffalo cautioned.
And that was exactly what Nick had expected him to say-which was why he was unable to keep from smirking.
"With all due respect sir, if that's true it's the biggest coincidence since forever." He said this knowing perfectly well that Bogo didn't believe in that kind of happenstance any more than he did...and so his words had exactly the desired effect.
"Mmmm, true that, Wilde." It was a grudging admission, but an admission nonetheless. "Doesn't prove our young silver fox was The Company's diamond courier, but it's certainly enough to make him our prime suspect."
"Yes, sir," the fox responded soberly, and for once it wasn't an act. In the wake of that riot and cyberattack, this was no time to play the 'clever fox'.
What Bogo had to say next came as an immediate, if not complete, surprise.
"And on a related subject, we've managed to confirm that there WAS a late-arriving flight from Zoo York to Zootopia on the day in question." A rustling of papers followed, with the Big Chief mumbling in the background. "Ahhh, where did I...? ...be here somewhere. Blasted computer...blasted hackers! Ah, here 'tis." His voice disappeared for a second, and then came back at normal volume. Nick could almost picture him-holding the documents in one hoof, while steadying his glasses with the other.
"Furgin Airways, Flight FG311, s'posed to depart from Idlewilde at 9:15 PM, Sunday Night. Instead it didn't get off the ground until nearly 4 AM the following morning."
"Whoa!" the red fox almost gasped...he'd been hoping for a delayed flight, but by THAT much?
"Got in at Zootopia International at 7:33 AM." the Chief was saying.
A slow frown creased Nick Wilde's face. That was a couple of hours earlier than the time frame he had specified, but still well within the realm of possibility.
D'ohhh, wait a minute...dumb fox. In his earlier calculations he'd forgotten to factor in the different time zones.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, now it was time for a stupid question, the kind where you already know the answer, but have to ask it anyway.
Well, at least he could hedge his bets.
"I suppose it's too much to hope that Conor Lewis's name showed up on the passenger list." Of course it wouldn't; even a rank-amateur smuggler knows better than to travel under their own identity.
"No such luck, I'm afraid, Detective," Bogo sounded almost sympathetic, "However..." More seconds of rustling papers followed. "However...we've got the name and home address of one of the attendants who worked that flight. Name's Kurusu, Tshonga Kurusu, caracal; lives right there in Zoo York City. His address is..."
"Hold on Chief, I don't have a pen," Nick hastily patted his pockets, more than a little dubious. After three long years, it was highly unlikely that the Afurican lynx would remember one, single passenger out of the thousands he must have serviced over the course of his career.
On the other paw, he just might remember that particular flight, given how long it had been delayed. In any event, it was a lead he couldn't ignore.
"Ahhhh maybe you better just text it to me, Chief. Oh...and can you shoot me a picture of the Lewis kid where the color of his eyes is visible?"
"Can do," Bogo told him. "I'll send the address now and the photo in just a few minutes." After another second or two, Nick heard the stuttering click of a telegraph key, coming from his cell-phone, informing him that the address had arrived. Ohhh-kay, and with that out of the way, it was time to move on to a more brutal subject.
"Chief, I just now heard about the cyberattack and the riot...but I don't know any details; how bad are things back there?"
For the next few minutes, he listened quietly while Bogo gave him the short version of the previous night's events...that is until he heard...
"Wait, what? Lieutenant Tufts thinks the Lewis kid stopped it?"
"Yes, I know." Bogo sounded almost a little bit amused. "Could've knocked me over with a feather when I heard it-but everything he said made perfect sense."
"Mmmm, right." the red fox answered, still trying to comprehend what he'd just heard. Albert Tufts...defending Conor Lewis? That was like the Sheriff of Nottingham pleading Robin Hood's case. "And uh, Ju...Detective Hopps, is she all right?"
"She's here in my office instead of hospital isn't she?" his Chief responded testily, before relenting and softening his tone. "She's fine herself Wilde...but she's had some bad news. Her younger sister, Erin Hopps was one of the detainees who escaped from the Youth Jail last night. So far, we've not been able to locate her."
It was another one of those revelations guaranteed to launch a thousand brand-new questions.
Erin Hopps...in jail? That was another thing Bogo hadn't told him the last time they'd talked; all he'd said was that a group of Conor's friends had been arrested for aiding and abetting his escape from the ZAPA Auditions. He'd mentioned none of them by name; much less that one of them had been Judy's younger sister. Nick remembered her now, the pretty, young, white-furred bunny; her performance with Conor at the Carrot Days Talent Show, and the Hopps family bonfire later that evening. What the heck had SHE done to get herself locked up? Did it have anything to do with that other riot, the one where Judy had been hurt? Wait, yes....how could he forget? She'd participated in the Academy tryouts. Had she been one of the kids who'd helped Conor to get away? But why the heck had she joined that jail-break? Pardoning the stereotype, Nick was beginning to feel as if he'd been sucked down the proverbial rabbit hole.
Sensing the fox's bewilderment, Bogo moved quickly to steady him-in his usual, tactful manner. "Snap out of it, Wilde! Y' can ask Detective Hopps about it later. Right now, you've got work to do!"
"Yes sir," Nick replied, straightening up and hardly realizing what he was doing. What he did realize was that after the events of the last 24 hours, his Chief was in the middle stages of burnout; why else would he have unknowingly given permission for him and Judy to start speaking again?
His phone was almost back in its holster, when an impatient voice intervened.
"Well...what's going on, Nicky?" Martin Pennanti was practically thumping his foot like a rabbit.
Whoops, he'd forgotten all about the fisher...but then he could hardly blame himself, given everything he'd learned in the past couple of minutes.
He pulled out his phone again, scrolling quickly to the Chief's text message and holding it up for his guide to see.
"Do you know where this is?"
Pennanti peered closer for a second and then nodded. "Yeah, that's down in The Village. But wha...?"
"I'll explain on the way," Nick told him, already making for the door.
...Or trying to.
"Uh, it's that way paisan," the fisher informed him, pointing in the opposite direction.
"Ohhh, uh...right."
There were gaps in Nick's story; Chief Bogo had given him only a barebones account of the cyberattack and riot. It was enough for Martin Pennanti, though. And when Nick related the information he'd gleaned from Willie Boy Wapiti, the fisher was able to offer some insights of his own.
"Ahhhh, hate to admit it Nicky, but Claudia and I got it dead-bang wrong; your Conor Lewis and that other fox, Sean McLeod are the same animal after all. The Mister would absolutely have paid to get his face fixed and then head-faked his death, if he was gonna start using the kid; that's exactly how he used to roll." He rapped his paw on the steering wheel, "And that explains a lot of other things. One of the guys who used to mentor that..."
"Mentor...?" Nick's ears were almost sticking through the roof of the car
"Ah, poor choice of words, but the best thing I can...hold on, I gotta make a turn here. Okay, as I was gonna say, the McLeod kid learned his computer skills from no less a mammal than Kieran McCrodon. Did Claudia ever mention him by any chance?"
"She did, remember?" the fox replied, laying on the tact. "She thought one of the mammals from his hacker crew might be the diamond mule-but she also thought one of them might be The Phantom." That last bit was something he hadn't mentioned before.
"Ye-a-a-ah!" the fisher was grimacing again, "And now that I know those two fox kids are the same animal, I gotta agree with her. If Kieran McC had him under his wing, the kid would for sure have been in contact with at least one of that crew. And they were good Nicky, really good; not a single one 'em's ever been caught....they all made a clean getaway."
"Except for Kieran himself," the red fox reminded him-almost blurting out the words and having no idea why.
Pennanti gave him that same look Judy did sometimes. "Don't kid yourself paisan, if he hadn't been inside of Finagles when the flag dropped, you could color that sea-mink gone for good. He was the best of the best...and if he's the guy, taught your fox-kid how to hack a computer, good luck trying to track him down online; the ONLY way you're getting to him is the hard way."
Less than a month ago, that assertion would have had Nick Wilde rolling on the floor; now he just nodded quietly.
"Claudia can give you the full run-down the next time you talk to her." Pennanti gave him a sideways look, "You uh, are planning to talk to her again?"
"Absolutely," Nick had made up his mind to call her, the moment Sergeant Wapiti had correctly described Conor's eyes.
And speaking of that elk...
"Uh, say Martin...not to change the subject, and I'll drop it if you want; but what the heck does Wapiti owe you for anyway?"
Pennanti waved a paw, looking mildly disgusted. "He got taken hostage in the middle of a standoff some years back. I managed to talk the perps into letting him go...barely."
"Really?" Nick's ears were standing even taller than before. Yeah, that was worth a little bit more than just some info about a diamond smuggler.
"Yep," the fisher nodded, rapping the steering wheel again. "That's why he's still a sergeant, and why he's gonna retire as a sergeant. He went in strictly against orders, after being told to stay put-and those punks who grabbed him were all hopped up on something; ready to blow him away just for kicks. As it is, they nearly escaped coz of that idiot elk deciding to play supercop."
"Whoa" Nick marveled, "he's lucky they didn't bust him all the way down to street patrol."
"And now you know what an officer of his rank was doing, working crowd control on the day of the Finagles raid." Pennanti winked, slowing down and easing his car to the left. "Okay, here we are."
Nick peered out the window...and then blinked and reeled back.
"Wha...? This is a rental car agency."
"Yeah, I know," the fisher replied, checking his mirror to make sure no one was coming.
As they pulled in through the entrance, a river hog in a sharp blue blazer came trotting out to greet them with a smile on his face-and then stopped in his tracks when he recognized the animal sitting behind the wheel. He immediately commenced to wave his hooves as though attempting to ward off a curse.
Pennanti merely rolled down his window and waited. The stalemate lasted for perhaps another minute before the pig came stalking over.
"Take a walk, P-Mammal; you ain't a cop no more!"
The fisher corked a thumb at the animal sitting next to him.
"No, but he is; show him your badge, Nicky."
Nick leaned across the fisher's lap and flashed it...quickly, so the hog wouldn't notice that it was a Zootopia PD badge.
He didn't, but he was still far from ready to cooperate.
"Since when do the po-lice want nothin' to do wit' YOU, huh?"
"Hey, even they get desperate once in a while, Freddy," Pennanti shrugged, smiling. And then he turned dead-on serious. "I can sit here all day, can you?"
Freddy snorted, snorted again, and then squealed.
"All right, second floor, space number Seven F...and if you come back and find the boss had this mutha towed, DON'T come cryin' to me!"
"Sure, Freddy," Pennanti put the car in gear and began to roll away.
"And if I lose my job coz of this, Ima come, lookin' for your tail!" The pig shouted after him, offering a clenched fist.
The fisher just waved a paw backwards, out through the window. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."
Nick waited until they were out of the car before asking.
"How come we're..."
And, as usual, his guide was one jump ahead of him.
"Be grateful Nicky; you know what they charge for parking in The Village? 20 smackers...and that's just for the first hour."
"Wow," Nick was almost floored. Even in Zootopia's downtown district, parking fees didn't even come close to that. However, there was still one tiny detail, waiting to be addressed. "Uhhh, okay, but why should I be gratef...? Oh, riiight, you would have made me pay for it."
The fisher cocked another finger.
"I'm happy to help you out over here, Nicky...but that doesn't extend to my wallet, capisce? And by the way, you're buying me lunch today."
"Yeah, all right." the red fox nodded. It was only fair; Pennanti had treated him to breakfast the other day. "Just don't take me anywhere too expensive."
"Wouldn't dream of it; now c'mon, let's go."
He led Nick on a meandering, angular path for several blocks, ending up in front of a row of brownstones that might have been litter-mates. By the time they arrived, the fox would have been willing to treat him to lunch at the Fur Seasons, if that was what he wanted. This animal was godsend; he could never have found his way to the Kurusu flat without Pennanti help.
Of course, there was every chance the caracal wouldn't be home right now...but sometimes it's better not to give a witness fair warning. And this, the red fox judged, was one of those times.
Entering the building, he and Pennanti found themselves in the hallway of a three story walk-up of middling quality. Not a dump, but nothing posh either.
Tshonga Kurusu's flat turned out to be on the second floor. The voice that answered when the rapped on the door wasn't his, however. Nick knew that even though he'd never met the caracal. The speaker was decidedly female, her voice rich with the lilt of East Afurica.
She was not in a pleasant frame of mind.
"Yes, who theah?"
Nick immediately assumed his most deferential manner.
"Good morning, ma'am, my name is Detective Nicholas Wilde of the Zootopia Police Depart..."
"Step beck from the door; show me your badge!"
Nick took it out and held it in front of the peephole.
"Too close, I cen't see! Move it beck!"
Grumbling silently, the fox did as he was commanded. Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't been warned that Zoo Yorkers were suspicious by nature.
"All right, what you want? You got warrant?"
"No ma'am." Nick sighed, knowing exactly where this was going, "I'm looking for a Mr. Tshonga Kuru..."
"He not here; go away!"
Yep, just as he'd expected; beside him, Martin Pennanti was shaking a knowing head. He too had seen it coming.
But then another voice spoke from the opposite side of the door.
"Cherished, what's going on?"
"Nothing; go back to bed!" Her voice had dropped to a near-whisper.
There; there it was. Nick saw his opportunity and he pounced on it.
"Sir, if you're Tshonga Kurusu, I need to talk to you. I'm a detective with the Zootopia Police Department."
A moment of confused silence followed before the second voice, clearly male, answered him.
"Zootopia? I don't know enyone in Zootopia; why you want to talk to me?" In the background, Nick could hear the first voice telling him to shut up.
"It's about a flight you worked as an attendant," the fox explained. "We're trying to locate one of the passengers. You're not in any trouble, sir. You have my word."
"What, then? I heven't worked as flight attendant almost two years now; going to Zoo York University." Kurusu, Nick assumed it was Kurusu, sounded even more confused than before. But then, finally, he spoke the magic words. "Cherish, move away end let me open the door."
"NO! Tshonga, they could be...."
"I tell you again, Cherish, this is not Angoatla. Now let me..."
"Fine! On your own head, then!"
The exchange ended to the tune of angrily retreating footsteps. It was followed by the noise of a deadbolt being thrown and a lock turning.
Tshonga Kurusu was of medium height for a caracal, dressed in a dark-blue batik shirt with a white-lace collar. His nose was pierced by a gold ring and, as was fashionable among members of his species, he had waxed his ear tufts into needle points.
"Good morning!" Nick greeted the feline with his most glittering smile, "Thank you for agreeing to talk to us, Mr. Kurusu."
"Ahhh, welcome," the caracal responded guardedly, "May I see your bedge please?" Nick handed it over. After a quick inspection, Tshonga returned it.
"Very well, come in."
On their way inside, they heard a yowling voice from down the hall. "Don't bring them IN here!"
A short while later, they were arrayed around a glass-topped coffee table, with Tshonga seated in a lounger, while Nick and Martin Pennanti occupied a mismatched sofa on the opposite side.
"Very, well...how may I help you?" the caracal asked, leaning forward and clasping his paws. Like all felines, he seemed much more at ease on his home turf.
"Well, as I said before, Mr. Kurusu...we want to inquire regarding a flight you worked, three years ago..."
"I-I-I don't know how I could help you," the cat interrupted, spreading his paws. "I attended on so many flights, and thet was years ago..."
"Well yes," the fox admitted, laying down his trump card. "But please indulge me; it was a flight on Furgin airways from Zoo York City direct to Zootopia. We were hoping you might recall because the departure was delayed for almost seven hours."
"Ohhhh," Tshonga's brows were up and his mouth had formed an almost perfect circle, "Ah yes Detective Wilde, THET one I remember all right. To this day, I'm surprised it evah got off the ground."
"Okay, good," Nick flashed 'the smile' again and then pulled out his cell phone.
"All right, now this is probably a bit of a long-shot," he said, laying it on the tabletop and sliding it in the cat's direction, "But was this young silver fox on that flight by any chance?"
Kurusu picked up the phone and frowned, rolling his ears the way caracals do when trying to concentrate.
"Mmmm yes, there was a young silver fox on thet flight; I attended on him... but he was younger than this, and...I'm...I'm sorry, I cen't be sure."
"Try scrolling to the next pic." The fox suggested-the one that Bogo had sent him-and this time, one look was all it took.
"Ohhhh yes, THET'S him." Tshonga laid the phone on the table and slid it back across to Nick, "Never seen a fox with eyes like thet, before...or since."
Nick left the phone where it was for the moment.
"Did he happen to mention his name?"
The caracal's ears were rolling again. It reminded Nick of somebody rowing a boat.
"Um, yes, but I cen't quite...Ahhh, what was it again? Ahhhh, Lewis I think...Col...no, Conah...Conah Lewis."
"That's him," Nick answered, nodding, first at the Tshonga and then at Martin Pennanti. "Did he say anything else?"
"Only thet he was flying out to Zootopia to visit his grendparents." The feline replied-and then, without warning, his look became abruptly penetrating. "Why are you trying to find him enyway, Detective?
That told Nick it was time to get his hustle on. Luckily, Tshonga had just given him everything he needed. Instead of addressing him directly, he turned to the fisher sitting next to him, "Hmmmm; sounds like he didn't know himself...at least not then." And then back to the feline, "Actually sir, it wasn't a visit. He was flying to Zootopia to live with his grandparents; they'd been awarded custody of him by the courts."
"What's this, now?" Kurusu's eyes were wide and his ears had risen halfway to the ceiling.
"Yes, we're afraid so," Pennanti leaned forward, joining the conversation for the first time since they sat down. "His mother's boyfriend was...mmm, not a nice animal, if you know what I mean."
Nick glanced sideways at the fisher and then back at Tshonga. "Perhaps you noticed that the Lewis boy had a couple of gold teeth? That's because of something HE did."
"Oh my God," Tshonga's whiskers were twitching like divining rods, "Yes, I did notice, but I hed no idea. Do you...think his mum may hev taken him?"
"That's what we hope to find out." The fox told him, tapping at the table with a finger claw. "Needless to say, his grandparents are extremely worried; the mother seems to have disappeared too."
"Oh no," the caracal was trembling as if preparing to fly for his life. "This is so?"
It was Martin Pennanti who answered him. "I'm afraid it is, sir. She moved out of her apartment in Lynxhurst Zoo Jersey last month, and no one's seen her since; the forwarding address she left turned out to be a fake."
It was a good hustle, Nick thought, but Tshonga's next question turned out to be a hard curveball.
"Oh dear...hev' you picture of her, then?"
Nick froze in place. Dumb fox-he couldn't say he didn't have one; it would set off every alarm bell in the caracal's head. "You came looking for the son she may have kitnapped...and you didn't even bring a picture of HER?"
But wait...hold everything.
"Yes, just a second," he said, picking up his cell phone and scrolling hastily through the photo album. Come on, come on...it must be here some...wait yes, okay. Now, right click, hit the 'edit' button; hit the 'crop' button, hit 'save as', and save it under a different name. Okay...good to go.
"This is her," he said, passing the phone to Tshonga.
The caracal studied it briefly and then shook his head. "No, don't know her. I do see the resemblance though. She's uh...what they call it...a cross fox?"
"Yes, that's right," Nick answered, hastily taking the phone back, "Her name's Peggy, Peggy Lewis. I, uh, don't suppose you'd recognize that name?" He had assumed his deferential fursona again.
"Nope, sorry, cen't help you there," Tshonga answered with another head shake. "Hev you a picture of thet boyfriend, though?"
Before Nick could respond to this, Pennanti intervened.
"Nope, he's gone. Got sent up to Danneroara for armed robbery last year and picked a fight with the wrong inmate."
"Ah good riddance," the caracal growled, but then gave the fisher a tilted look. "I-I-I don't believe I got your name. You are with the ZYPD?"
"No sir," Pennanti responded smoothly, pulling out his ID badge. "I'm Martin Pennanti with the Minkerton Detective Agency. We were hired by the Lewis boy's grandparents to try and help locate him." He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial purr. "Being foxes, they're not especially trusting of law enforcement."
"It's true," Nick threw up his paws in a frustrated shrug. "They only agreed to co-operate with the ZPD after I was assigned to the case."
"Yes, of course." The caracal nodded, as if such a thing should be obvious. But then his expression turned leery again. "Only, how do you expect to find this boy by talking to me-about an airline flight from three years ago?"
Nick allowed himself to sag and look partially defeated. "Frankly sir...at this point we're checking out every lead we can find...even the shaky ones."
"Ah yes, I see." The caracal replied, this time with an air of sympathy. In so many words, Nick had just told him that the investigation was stalled.
"Ahhhh, you know how it is." Martin Pennanti put in, flipping a paw. "Lotta times it'll be some tiny, little detail, doesn't sound important, that'll lead you to your missing mammal."
"Exactly," Nick concurred and then turned to speak to their witness again. "And with that in mind, is there anything else you can remember about that boy...anything at all?"
Tshonga frowned and huddled into himself for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.
Finally he looked up. "Only thing I can remembah, is there was another passenger, didn't wish to sit next him...I moved him to a different seat. He was a...groundchuck, woodhog, whatevah you call it. Oh...end yes, I thought it rather odd, a boy that age, trevelling by himself in First Class."
Once again, Nick's mind was in a whirl. A woodchuck...who didn't want to sit with a fox; could it possibly have been...?
Noooo....otherwise, Judge Schatten would have recognized Conor when the young fox was brought before him in court...and in any case, it wouldn't help find the kid now.
But sending him to Zootopia on a first class ticket...that didn't sound like something a mob boss would have done at all.
Well maybe so, but this marked the second time that Conor had been identified by a Zoo York witness-and it left Nick Wilde without a single shred of doubt. That fox-kid HAD been The Company's diamond mule...period.
"All right," he said, getting up and exchanging his cell-phone for a business-card. "I think we're about done here...unless you have anything else, Detective?" He was speaking to Martin Pennanti.
"No, I think we got everything covered," the fisher said, getting up and offering a paw to their host. "If you think of anything else, you have Detective Wilde's card there."
When they were back inside the car, a short while later, the first thing he said was, "Hey, hey Nicky, take it easy, that's my dashboard over there. What the heck's eating you anyway?"
"Sorry, sorry," the red fox replied, unclenching his fist and putting it back where it belonged, "It's just that..." He looked earnestly at the older mammal, "I almost blew up everything back there, Martin....I should have known Kurusu would have wanted to see a pic of the Lewis kid's mother. And there's no way I wouldn't have had one if that's why we were looking for him."
Pennanti leaned in the fox's direction, laying an elbow on his knee.
"Yeah? Well, you didn't blow it Nicky, and the last time I looked-fuggedaboutit. Closeness only counts in pitching pennies, bocce ball, and paw grenades, capisce?"
"All right yeah," the fox replied, offering up a rueful smile.
"And that was still a great line you spun there, Nicky." The fisher was nodding his appreciation. "There's nothing, makes John Q. Citizen want to cooperate with the law like a story about a kid in danger and some worried parents."
Nick couldn't help grinning, in spite of himself. "Yeah well you did pretty darn good yourself, Marty. His mother, having an abusive boyfriend; I never would have thought of that."
Pennanti threw up a paw and waved it. "Ehhhh, what can I say? I been around, I seen a few things." He sat back again and fastened his seatbelt. "Now, let's go grab some lunch and try to figure out our next move."
"Works for me," the fox replied, also fastening his belt.