The Canes Files

by Nicholas McConnaughay

  "She is a History teacher, and so, at least to a certain degree, the shoe fits. She could possibly carry the skill capable of such a heist, considering her level of education, but she hasn't shown as much as the slightest in criminal intent." Vulpecula spoke. He didn't know whether they were listening, and didn't especially care, but he found it easier to organize his thoughts when he articulated them aloud. "Why else would her hair be found at the scene of the crime? Apus checked to see if she might have volunteered at a point for the museum, but he found nothing." Lacerta pointed out.

  Oh, and so he was listening.

  "That's one of the problems, look at what the thief was wearing, there was no reason that so much hair should have been lost at the scene of the crime." At last, they met the drive-way leading to Harriet's abode, and Vulpecula's eyes began to frolic about it. The home was a polychrome styling in-which the dwelling stood, interconnected with several others. There was nothing too peculiar about the exterior of the home, which is something that Vulpecula's intuition had expected the thief's home to be. Rather, V led his acquaintances up the steps leading to the small, plywood porch. The wood had been painted over, poorly, with white, to match the building itself. There were clear footprints and dirt, and with that alone, Vulpecula knew that this wasn't the lady who stole the Sword of Tertius. He took a breath and readied himself to plead her case.

  "There isn't a criminal-record to be found, no sign of wrongdoings, which surely wouldn't render Harriet as innocent. In-fact, the video-tape that we have seen details somebody, perhaps cunning enough to evade the law for all of this time. However, those footprints entail a hippopotamus, which is impossible. The frame of the thief's body described somebody much smaller." Vulpecula tried very hard to contain some of the intrigue that bumbled inside of him like the regular every-day bee, but he questioned his effectiveness.

  "Are you saying that we're back to square-one?" Lacerta asked. He didn't have nearly the same enthusiasm that Vulpecula had.

  If Vulpecula didn't know any better, he'd think Lacerta would much rather be sipping sparkling liquid in one of Italina's finest hotels with a view of the Tower of Sanchi.

  "No," Vulpecula replied firmly, and without elaboration, he knocked on the red slab door and waited for a response. "Hold on, hold on," a high-pitch voice cried from the inside. Vulpecula rifled with the fur on his chin as habit commanded and tilted his nose to the ground. There was a loose-nail sticking out from the wooden-porch, and it admittedly bothered him to no ends. He didn't wear boots and was liable to step on it on the way out.

  The door swung open, and Harriet Collins greeted them all with a smile. "Whoever you are, can we make this quick, my hair is an absolute mess!"

  If Vulpecula were to go to the Watergate, a small book-store in Italina, then go to the "Mom” section, grab the first book about soccer, and look at the cover, he had no doubts that he would have seen Harriet Collins.

  He was right in assuming her species, but hadn't anticipated her appearance, which only further proved that she wasn't the culprit. She had a silver complexion complemented by a blonde beehive-shaped head of hair, as well as a heavy amount of make-up. As far as her ensemble, she wore what looked to be an Italinian Blazers shirt; unfortunately, the several necklaces that she was wearing kept V from confirming that assumption. Besides that, she was also wearing yellow shorts that didn't do her tree-trunk legs very many favors. In-response, Vulpecula gave a face that would hopefully be misinterpreted as polite and not disgusted. There was also a strong smell of perfume radiating off her.

  "Hello, Mrs. Collins, my name is Officer Pends, and this is Detective Vulpecula Noel, and his accompanying party is Apus Yields and Lacerta Kerrick. You may recall that I called you," Officer Pends began, a sound of ... shear ... professionalism in his voice that Vulpecula found to be pretty flocking dumb. (A baaaad pun.) Vulpecula never really appreciated the necessity of procedural introductions. "He called you because we thought you stole the Sword of Tertius on-account of evidence found at the Malane Palace linking you to the crime. However, at last your size and the clumsiness of your species has worked to your good fortune, and your name has been cleared," Vulpecula explained. "Congratulations."

  Vulpecula's eyes dwindled away from Harriet long enough to see the look of terror in the eyes of his helpers, but he couldn't decipher why they seemed so afraid. His eyes returned to Harriet once more only to see the door slammed before him.

  Vulpecula smiled dryly, and let out a sigh, the rudeness of the world was always lost on him.

  "I will never understand how you are Hensley's son," Lacerta admitted with a smirk.

  "Pshaw," V started up. "The lady didn't have the wits to keep loose-nails off her porch, let alone assist in solving this case, and yet, I do believe that she has."

  Hours later, Vulpecula, Apus, and Lacerta all found themselves inside of Ollie's Abil, each having ordered their usual meal, and sitting in their usual spot. Neither Lacerta nor Apus cared very much when it came to the seating arrangements, but perhaps compulsively, Vulpecula found it pivotal to them enjoying their meal as much as the last time they ate there.

  "Do you care to let us in on how exactly Harriet helped you further the investigation?" Lacerta asked with a startling amount of irritation in his voice.

  Vulpecula noticed that Apus didn't seem as bothered with him withholding the information for as long as he had. Part of him couldn't help but wonder whether Apus was biting his tongue, and had, in-fact, figured out as much as he had. "There were seven strands of hair at around fifteen inches in length," Vulpecula began while Apus and Lacerta both sat at the table and stared at him, curious to see where he may be going with this. They hadn't even begun to touch their food, both with a delectable helping of spaghetti resting upon fancy-looking porcelain plates that complimented it nicely. Ollie's Abil was a restaurant mostly visited by tourists for the novelty of it all, but it also made some of the finest food in all Italina. Vulpecula himself had opted for a simple assortment of rice and sushi.

  He didn't want to take the chance of some of the spaghetti getting on his fur.

  Vulpecula waited for what he believed to have been an ample amount of time for his comrades to digest the statement and found himself bewildered when they didn't respond. He began to fidget around with his fork, stabbing at a piece of sushi until he could withstand himself no longer and looked up at them.

  "So," Lacerta blurted out. "All this tells us is that you have a photographic memory whenever it comes to details."

  Vulpecula let out a sigh of disappointment before he decided to continue. "My memory is more comparable to a blank chalkboard, as if to say I can roll my eyes in the back of my head and see data that I had deemed important. For example, I can't very well describe to you the face of Harriet Collins from memory, but I can tell you her age, blood-type, and a variety of details. Once this case is solved, I will erase the writings from my mind, and will create space for the next case," he explained.

  Lacerta never really seemed the type to strain himself intellectually for the benefit of a case, he was keener whenever it came to companionship, talking to people, and articulating the latest trends.

  Pity, however, while it might not seem it, all three of those things had already helped them on several occasions. He watched as Apus made a peck at his spaghetti before carrying on. "Lacerta, in-fact, this tells us much more than my capabilities because we had clearly seen from Harriett, her hair couldn't have been longer than eight-inches at most, and, not to mention, Harriet's hair was blonde. The hair that we found at the Malane Palace was brown, but did you notice the smell, a different scent entirely, both perfumes, potentially of the same brand, but not the same. So, to see what is learned, let's recite."

  "We already knew that Harriet Collins' heavier stature made it impossible for her to have been the one who stole the Sword of Tertius. However, this doesn't explain why her hair would be found at the scene of the crime. While, she is a history teacher, none of the records indi
cate her ever being in a position where she would have authorization to be so close to the artifacts. How could her hair have possibly gotten there, well, now, we know that the hair found at the crime-scene isn't particularly fresh. The hair was brown, while her current hair-color is blonde; she could have dyed it recently, and most likely did, but had no reason to. And so, the question remains as to why her hair could have possibly been left there. I believe that the thief that stole the Sword of Tertius left her hair there to throw off the investigation, and/or to frame Harriet Collins' for the crime. Harriet's occupation as a history teacher merely assisted in condemning Collins." Vulpecula took in a breath of air, the rapid-fire speaking had taken the wind out of him, but he noticed that he had the full attention of both Apus and Lacerta.

  "The next question in solving this whodunnit would be to ask how the thief got Harriet's hair in the first-place. Now, one theory would be that she snuck into her house, found it on a brush, and that was the end of that, but the thief demonstrated in the video carried a prowess much too careful and meticulous to take such a risk. And besides, the amount of hair could only be received from plucking it right off from her head. There would be something more unorthodox and diabolical, and with that, it brings us to the fact that the hair was longer than Mrs. Collins' hair. I am suggesting that Harriet Collins' hair was trimmed, approximately four or five inches, and then dyed from brown to blonde. Along the way, seven full-length strands of hair found themselves at the bottom of the barbershop floor. They were sprayed with a fragrance, to be more likely discovered, and that fragrance was from the same place that Harriet usually buys her perfume, the closest salon in Italina, - Miss Marion's Barbershop."

  2.

  By the time that Officer Pends knocked on the door, she didn't even try to deny stealing the Sword of Tertius and went away without much controversy. This was lucky because if she were to put up a fight, the evidence was circumstantial, and she would likely be freed on a technicality, but no, she confessed. A little bit of hurt pride in how quickly she had been discovered, but not a whole lot of arguing.

  And so, the white-furred fox, Vulpecula, grabbed his walking-stick and with his friends, the lizard Lacerta and the owl Apus, he successfully solved the case behind the Sword of Tertius.

  A month later, it was stolen again.

  The Life and Crimes of Detective Barker

  Episode Three

  Gifting

  1.

  It was a dirty city. It was loud and obnoxious. It was ridden with crime and hate. That was the city Barker called home. It was everything you could ask for in his line of work. Yet, there was one single time of the year that it was even worse.

  People from all around the city would decorate their filthy homes with lights. That only seemed to accentuate the dirt building up along the walls. The city would decorate its trees with ornaments that were clearly as old as the tree itself. It was a horrid time filled with petty theft, family slayings, greed, and lots of work.

  Here in Urgway, it was called “The Giving”, signaling the gift of life from whatever creator people believed in. For Barker, it meant horrible amounts of paperwork and job security.

  Barker flipped another page in the large folder of documents before him. It was funny how this was supposed to be a time filled with joy because it seemed that crime only escalated as families got together for the end of the year.

  It was as if families weren’t meant to stay in close proximity to one another. Barker could have easily told them that long ago.

  Barker flipped another note over having glanced over the case facts, but before it hit the desk he grabbed it again with his paw.

  ‘Solved by Vulpecula’ it read down at the bottom. A case involving an Urgway sports team and a missing hand. Who was Vulpecula?

  Before he could look further into that there was a knock at the headquarter doors. The headquarters was more of a small den. The space was so narrow that the filing cabinet had to be shut before opening the door.

  Barker gave a sigh. It was really a shame that Lucky wasn’t here anymore because now he had no choice but to get up and answer the door himself.

  “No need to hurry there, little furry boy,” said a purple rhino.

  Even without the tight compartment, getting that woman into the office was going to be a chore. Instead, Barker pushed through and stepped out into the chilly morning air. How long had he been strewing over those papers? He thought it only a few hours, but it must have been quite a few more.

  “What can I do for you, Miss?” Barker left the question open-ended.

  The woman didn’t seem too interested in trading pleasantries.

  “You are expected here,” she thrust a small business card into Barker’s chest.

  Barker didn’t move for a moment. Instead, he stared into the eyes of the pushy rhino woman. Who was she? He felt her fingers digging into his breastbone. He reached down taking the card, if for nothing else but to get her hands off him.

  “What’s it for?” Barker asked.

  The card read: ‘Rescue Director Vivian Herms’, Barker had heard the name.

  The rescue was a group out of Italina that liked to pretend they were elite detectives. Barker didn’t give two cents to their views or ideas.

  “What does she want?” Barker said and threw the card into the trash receptacle near the door.

  The rhino didn’t look pleased at all. Her voice came out even huffier, but Barker could easily see the outline of a rookie patrol cop. This woman hadn’t been a detective very long and she wasn’t a very good one either, hence why she was playing messenger.

  “You will meet with Director Herms,” she started then paused. She was flustered, Barker could see the evidence in her purple cheeks that looked more red than purple by now. After a few deep breaths, she started again, “You will respect the work she had accumulated. You will be at Rescue Headquarters in Italina in three days’ time.”

  The rhino said nothing else and turned on her heel walking back to the waiting taxi cab. Barker stood there for a moment and waited for the cab to disappear down the road. He then turned and removed the business card from the bin. It would do well to know the animal he was to tame.

  2.

  Italina was only about three hundred miles west of Urgway; meaning that three days left Barker plenty of time to get to the city. However, Barker wasn’t one for showing up to a situation without some prior knowledge of the situation.

  It turned out Rescue headquarters was gigantic and also completely hidden. The building he stood in front of on the first day in Italina was not called Rescue. Instead, the front store facings read things like ‘Mike’s Dry Cleaners’ and ‘Franks Chili Wieners’, which was surprisingly quite tasty.

  Barker noticed right away it was a cover for their operation. He may not have noticed to be quite fair, but that purple rhino was a hard character to miss. Barker had avoided her pretend, stern gaze, but he had seen her just fine. She had walked in through the dry cleaners and not come back out for hours. It was safe to say that this is where he would be meeting this Herms character.

  Herms, it turned out was a rather skinny woman with authoritative looks and fashion. She had been the handpicked director by a fox named Noel. She had been running with the title for quite some time, but she didn’t have any big cases behind her credentials. Sure, Rescue was well known throughout the world, but Herms was relatively quiet.

  Maybe that was by design, or maybe she just didn’t strive for the attention, or more likely she was a second-rate detective, who just happened to wear a golden star above her name.

  Italina aside from being one of the largest cities this side of the pond wasn’t very exciting to Barker. People pushed along in packs like drones looking to get from point A to point B. There was no interaction, not like Urgway.

  Urgway was full of character, most of it horrible character, but character none-the-less. There were no evident pickpockets, no shady vendors, and no questionable women. Sure, Italina still
had your random homeless bloke, but really even they looked listless and deprived.

  It was a wonder detectives even survived in this place. Barker had only been here two days and already he was ready to die of boredom.

  Barker pushed into a small café. It wasn’t anything special. Not like his rats hole back home, but they can’t all be winners.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said a funny looking bird as he passed by. Barker watched him until he sat in a booth with a white-haired character, but Barker didn’t see his face before being guided to a side booth.

  Barker had picked this café to keep an eye on the storefronts. To know who was a part of this operation and who was just a decoy. He still wasn’t sure what these people wanted, but he did know he wouldn’t be caught off guard by them.

  As Barker watched he continued to jot down notes. Descriptions of people he thought noteworthy. Different routes in and out of the buildings. He would see a man go into one building and an hour later exit another. That meant there were several doors and that Rescue tried to be careful about their business.

  “More coffee,” the waitress asked.

  Barker had already made his notes on her. She was someone he would have to take care of before he left. Waitresses didn’t do sixteen-hour shifts, and waitresses didn’t wear thousand dollar earrings. She was materialistic or undercover, and Barker had been a detective long enough to know which it was.

  “No more coffee. I will need a check,” he said looking down at his watch. Best to feign needing to be somewhere else, it was a guaranteed way to be tracked and followed. She would do the job herself. She had invested too much time to be sluggish and give her glory away. Anyone who wore thousand dollar earrings liked to be the center of attention.

  Rounding the corner, Barker stopped to pretend to tie his shoe. It was an easy ploy to look down and stop. The woman was down the street, exactly as he thought, trailing him to his faked meeting. It was almost too easy.