The Canes Files

by Nicholas McConnaughay

  “Yes,” Vulpecula replied.

  V had a glimmer of hope that he'd be willing to leave it at that, but he wasn't though, of course, he wasn't. “I knew I knew you from somewhere, what brings you back to Acera, I thought you moved to Urgway? That's where Lacerta said you guys were at.” The Lizard sounded curious and enthused, like a raving fan in-front of his favorite movie-star or musician, Vulpecula found that odd, but he was caught by what he had said.

  “Do you know Lacerta?”

  “Of course, all of us lizards know each-other.”

  “Huh?” Vulpecula stammered, bringing the glass to his mouth for another drink, the taste still not acquired for him. He forced himself to swallow.

  “All Lizards attend monthly meetings. We discuss milestone events, shed our skin, and just make sure to keep everybody else up to date on what's happening in our lives.”

  “Oh,” Vulpecula replied, nodding knowingly.

  “I'm kidding,” the Lizard said, a smile on his face that showed his sharp-teeth.

  “I know,” Vulpecula lied.

  A loud snort came from the Warthog, who, even with his finely tailored suit, The Fox Detective found completely repulsive. He slammed his fist on the table and did so hard enough that Vulpecula could feel the glass in his hands vibrate. The bartender flinched.

  “Can we stop fraternizing with your customers and work on getting me my order!?” His voice sounded raspy and dry. It made Vulpecula think of a chain-smoker. The bartender reciprocated his demands with a polite smile and went to the back. “I mean, really, I've seen better service from a place that's closed!”

  “There's only one person,” Vulpecula quietly mentioned, but the Warthog didn't seem to hear him. V did hear a small chuckle from the bear on his right, however.

  He didn't try himself again, to make himself heard or known, he simply quieted. The situation was better off without his presence and he knew that. He wasn't in the mood for confrontation, all he wanted was to sulk in his misery and woe and wake up someday and it to all be better. That wouldn't happen though, because it wasn't a daydream. He could close his eyes and wish it all away, but the minute he did, he knew he'd only see the bloody hand of Comet Fowley. A website called The Shock. A cult, maybe?

  The website was a precursor to something greater. A gateway. In the end, they didn't do anything to Comet. They didn't have to. Their diatribes and spouting were enough to make him fake his own death. The Shock scared him that much. Shocking. And frankly, those things scared Vulpecula as well.

  But for several reasons. They enticed him. He wanted more. To dig deeper. He wanted another chapter. “Well, we are on the wait-list for Detective Barker, but he deemed the case all too obvious,” said Officer Rofus. What an enticing life Detective Barker must have.

  The Shock scared Vulpecula because he wanted to find out more about them, and by extension, he wanted more chopped up hands and bloody bathrooms to make that happen.

  Alcohol is tantalizing for some, offering restitution from the woes of a long-day eclipsed, but no matter how much he drank, it didn't offer Vulpecula what he sought for; escapism. That's what being a detective was supposed to do, to forget the legacy left to follow by his father, as well as the worrisome intricacies encumbering him he couldn't seem to avoid. It let him have purpose, and he was good at it, for some reason or another. It amused him. It was his own. Life's boring, and the things that aren't boring have an in-direct correlation with things that are evil, Vulpecula thought to himself.

  The bartender returned with a plate of food; a burger with ketchup and mustard dribbling down the side and fries with melted cheese dressed over them. The burger was tofu, obviously. The bartender had a smile on his face Vulpecula reckoned took all his energy to force. The warthog scoffed at the bartender, but that didn't stop him from digging fast into the food. Vulpecula saw the burger's condiments dribble down the warthog's chin but tried not to stare. Instead, he went back to his self-loathing and dismay, oh, woe is me. But the bartender, free to pursue him once more, walked by him with a curious grin.

  “So, what brings you back to Acera?” he asked, leaning himself against the other-side of the counter. Both elbows on the table. Mama Fox Detective would not approve!

  “I live here.” Vulpecula said, hoping that would be enough to suffice, but the bartender stared at him, expecting more. “It's where I like to stick around most, and since I am a small-time detective, I don't usually get too many jobs outside Acera, at the very most, I visit Italina, but that's only a couple hour drive.” He added.

  “Ah, I see, well, I read about your last case on Lacerta's article on the Rescue Tribune. I didn't think you and Rescue got along or were affiliated.”

  “We're not,” Vulpecula said, somewhat bluntly. He let a breath escape from his lungs, cooling his temper, and began again, “We're not affiliated, but we do co-exist and get along. They respect my decision not to work with them. Or, at least, they pretend to. Lacerta is always thinking of ways to 'expand our brand', and since I vetoed him creating a website for our riveting little 'adventures', I compromised and now he'll be writing occasional articles for them.”

  “That's good,” the bartender said, “It lets you get your name out there. The Supreme Stadium one was your most exciting yet!”

  “I suppose,” V said, the visual image of Comet's severed hand on the tank of the bathroom toilet struck him hard, but he flushed it down. The image. Not the hand.

  “I never really pegged you as much of a drinker though, especially not the sound kind.”

  The bluntness of the statement caught Vulpecula off-guard, so much so that it made him make eye-contact with the bartender, whose face looked amused, V couldn't help but show off a small smile. “I suppose I am a big cliché, the sad detective who has seen too much of the world's underbellies.”

  “And I'm the bartender who cleans the inside of the glass cup with a wash cloth while you speak about your hard-times,” he said. “My name's Red, by the way.” His voice sounded smooth, if a little too zealous for its own good.

  “It's nice to meet you, Red, but I don't think I really feel like venting about anything right now,” Vulpecula answered back.

  The lizard named Red nodded back, one of his forced smiles was spread on his face.

  “Thank God,” the Warthog exclaimed. “I don't know why I can't go to a bar and just drink and eat some grub without people whining all the time!”

  Following a brief pause, “I suppose I can vent a little.” Vulpecula adjusted himself in his stool, “I don't really know how to though.”

  “You took a Step Back for a reason, what was the reason?” Bartender Red asked, muffling a small chuckle provoked by the displeasure of the Warthog.

  Vulpecula let a breath escape his lungs, “They didn't write about it in the Tribune, but the reason Comet did what he did was out of fear. The fear of a group of people. What they'd do to him. What they'd do to his family. Whatever the reason.”

  “And this bothers you?”

  “It terrifies me,” Vulpecula said, and then stopped. He went to take another sip of alcohol from his glass and a realization came to him; it was empty. The bartender smiled, lifting a large bottle of whiskey and pouring it into the glass. Vulpecula nodded and took a drink.

  A vibration came from the fur-pouch on V's thigh. His cellphone. Always on vibrate. The sound of loud noises bothered him. He checked it, on the front of his screen was Apus' picture. Vulpecula answered.

  “What is it?” Vulpecula asked. He might have sounded more unfriendly than intended, but that was the mood he was in.

  “The Police are looking for you,” Apus answered. “Where are you?”

  “I went for a walk. Do you have any idea what they want?” Vulpecula stood up from the bar stool, using his walking stick as support while his drunkenness waged wars on his equilibrium. The Warthog beside him looked agitated and annoyed. Vulpecula took pleasure in that fact.

  “No,” Apus commented. “But it seemed urgent, a
fter all, it's four in the morning, a little late for a walk, isn't it?”

  “It's early depending on who you ask, and I didn't want to wake up you or Lacerta.”

  “You never cared about waking us up at four in the morning before,” Apus jested.

  2.

  Vulpecula soon once more found himself acquainted amongst his friends, Lacerta Kerrick and Apus Yield.

  They met at the Sidian Inn, where they basically lived when in Acera. Which was most of the time.

  Apus seemed up and attentive, if a smidgen or two more groggy than usual. Supposedly nocturnal, even he wasn't up in these late of hours. Lacerta, on the other-hand, looked exhausted and in a daze, rubbing the crinkles out of his eyes, his lids looking very heavy and difficult to keep open. It was about five in the morning, and not a lot of folk roamed about the lobby. Anyone up was headed to work and didn't stay for very long.

  They sat about a small circular table. Wooden and plain, about like the rest of the ones scattered about the Inn's built-in diner.

  Apus and Lacerta both ordered small breakfasts. Lacerta with a plate of eggs with a side of bacon, and Apus with the same. V opted out of eating and instead asked for a cup of coffee to go. His buzz was still readily there, and as a light-weight, it'd take some time for it to wear off. His friends didn't seem to notice though, maybe they were too tired to, or maybe they were ignoring it out of kindness. Whatever the reason, he was glad. He could still smell the muskrat's cigarette smoke and was insecure that his friends could smell it as well.

  “I wonder what they have that's so urgent,” Apus remarked, twirling around a piece of egg with his fork.

  “Something that couldn't wait until noon, apparently,” Lacerta commented beneath his breath, and while both heard him, Apus and Vulpecula made the decision to ignore him.

  “Whatever it is, they'll be here in a few minutes,” Vulpecula replied, tapping his finger-nails on the table. Vulpecula looked around the diner's walls, looking for a clock of some kind, but found none.

  “They actually agreed to come pick us up?” Apus asked.

  “They seemed overjoyed to do so,” V replied dryly. He continued tapping his claws against the table, appreciating the sound they made each time they hit. “It would have been easy for us to take the van, but I didn't know if you guys would be up and at 'em, and I certainly don't feel like driving.”

  “Little too early for that, buddy,” Lacerta blurted out, shooting a look over to where Vulpecula's hand was at.

  “I think the time's just right,” V replied, a soft smile on his face, and it provoked an aggravated and well-audible groan from his lizard friend. The Fox didn't take to heart, Lacerta always became cranky when his sleeping schedule was adjusted. For his benefit, Vulpecula relented. He, on the other-hand, didn't feel too bad about the lack of sleep. Sleeping was a mandated activity he often tried and failed to challenge. Try as he might, he had no doubts he'd end up knocked out in bed in a few hours’ time.

  “Where were you earlier?” Lacerta asked, no longer chomping at the bits of his food. “You said you were walking, who walks at four in the morning?”

  “I do,” Vulpecula answered, “I needed some air, that's all.”

  “You haven't been the same since that Shock website fiasco, you've seemed more 'uppity' than usual.”

  “I don't know what you mean,” Vulpecula said, realizing how little his reply accomplished. He noticed himself once again tapping his fingers on the table, however. V stopped for a moment and soaked in the silence of the diner around them. The sound of the air-conditioner could be heard, as well as some very muffled words between the Inn diner's waitress and a customer. Other-wise though, it felt very hollow and peaceful. He looked out the window, seeing various cars parked about, and white rocks lining the Inn's driveway. Plants decorated the sides of the concrete steps leading to the entrance. They looked rubbery, but Vulpecula couldn't say whether the flowers were real or not. A car pulled slowly into the driveway, a big purple rhino was driving the vehicle. The visual was quite the sight. As she came closer, Vulpecula could see that it was a police-car. The rhino wore an outfit as one would expect; a beige-colored buttoned-up shirt, long-sleeve, and a golden badge in-front of her heart. She stopped before the building, and both her and Vulpecula made eye-contact.

  She didn't seem unfriendly. That wasn't the word for what she seemed. Stoic. Serious. Those were more accurate descriptions. Vulpecula let out a breath of air. It seemed an awful lot like they needed him for a case. That wasn't the problem. It was her mirthless expression. The whole look suggested something big, and as much as that set V's teeth on edge, the other-side of him knew his malfunctioning moral compass couldn't handle it. The Rhino stepped out from the vehicle. Her size was enormous, more than him and his friends combined, about as big as the Warthog from the bar.

  “I don't suppose there's any chance the rhino's here for a totally different reason,” Apus quietly whispered.

  The Rhino opened the front-door of the Sidian Inn. The sound of the bell attached to the door-knob could be heard, and next came a friendly welcoming from one of the employees. The Rhino nodded, but said nothing, and didn't change her stone-face. Vulpecula watched her every footstep. She walked without grace, clumsily even, stamping her feet down with every movement. At the very least, she walked with presence. Vulpecula could see murder in her eyes, which was the exact opposite of what he needed to handle in his state. Lacerta, on the other-hand, was more concerned with finishing his breakfast. V smiled as she neared them.

  “Have a seat, he commented, lifting up his walking stick and nudging toward an empty chair left for her.

  She shook her head, “That won't be necessary.”

  Her voice sounded firm, but V detected something else, like a fish out of water, she seemed almost … artificial, like she was masking her own personality with somebody else's more serious mannerisms. Vulpecula scribbled the fact down in his blank, slightly inebriated chalkboard. What was the severity of the crime committed to make her so on-edge?

  “I guess we'll be going to the crime-scene then?” Vulpecula said, he noticed his hands were no longer tapping against the table, but they were shaking. He took a sip of his coffee. Caffeine would fix that.

  The Rhino looked at V with confusion, “Not exactly,” she said, then paused: “Vulpecula Noel, you're under arrest for stealing the Sword of Charles Tertius from the Malane Palace.”

  “Oh,” Vulpecula replied. Almost sounding disappointed. “This really sounds like something we could have done over the phone though, doesn't it?”

  The Rhino's face remained unchanged. V's eyes traveled around. Lacerta sat, jaw-dropped with a fork swinging about in his hands like a pendulum. Apus was looking at the Fox Detective with worry.

  In the end, Vulpecula didn't resist arrest. There was no fighting stick action or scarf-strangling, he allowed himself to be arrested. Lacerta and Apus said nothing to him on his way out. The cuffs weren't very tight around his wrists, but he made no strides of escape. There was no reason to. They left the Sidian Inn and V could feel the eyes of civilians judging him. He disliked it, burying his face in his scarf. The rhino, whose badge read Alicia Camél, spelled with a little angelic halo over the second-to-last letter, led him to the back of the police car. Vulpecula couldn't look to see, but he had no doubts both his friends were heading to the van to follow them on their way to the Acera Police Department.

  3.

  It didn't take long before Vulpecula unraveled a mystery. Not the most important thing though, not the thing that mattered. But the mystery of Alicia Camél. She wasn't mean. It was an act, and one she was very bad at. She led him into the building, her stone-faced look maintained with such dedication.

  In the mean-time, The Fox Detective took in the scenery. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he was at ACP. It didn't look familiar. He was being arrested for stealing the Sword of Tertius, a famous sword he became acquainted with on an earlier case, but what struck him as odd is t
hat he wasn't arrested by Italinian Police.

  The reason, he discovered, or assumed, was because Camél wasn't with a specific department. She was with Rescue. Looking back, Vulpecula could recall Officer Pends being hounded (no pun-intended) by various Rescue workers when V was in Italina the first time. It wasn't until night-time and in the pouring rain they went home, and Vulpecula was able to solve the case himself.

  Officer Camél, or would it be detective?, led him about the floor of the department, he saw one or two familiar faces. (1) Officer Watts, whom he became acquainted with in a much earlier case, for which, Watts seemed more annoyed than grateful for his help. Watts looked uncaring about Vulpecula's current misfortune. (2) Officer Heathers, … the less said about her, the better.

  Camél brought him into a room, conveniently marked as Interrogation Room on the door in big-black letters.

  Vulpecula sat down in one of the chairs at the center of the room. The chair was metal and without cushions. But he was at ease once he started tapping his fingers on the table in-front of him. Alicia walked in as well, closing the door behind her. A small camera was in one corner of the room with a blinking red light below the lens. The Fox had to resist the urge to wave or smile at the camera.

  “Do you know why you're here?” Camel asked. V could hear the distinct footsteps of her feet stamping onto the ground and as she turned her back to him, he could have also sworn he heard her knuckles cracking. It was all a show for his benefit.

  “From what you said, I am guessing it has something to do with me stealing the Sword of Tertius?”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes, I used my masterful know-how for the fine-arts of burglary, sneaked into the building and stole it. Six guards caught me in the act, but I showed them a fine assortment of jujitsu and left them unconscious and with no recollection of said events.”

  “Sarcastic confessions still count as confessions,” Alicia Camel commented. “I know all about you. Rescue loves you. It was only natural. The son of one of the greatest animals this world has ever seen.”