Detective Trigger: Books 1-3

by M. A. Owens

  “No, I’m not,” I snapped.

  He raised his brow. “You’re not?”

  “That’s right. The fact I’m sitting here tells me everything I need to know about those files. If they exist at all, they’re not going to do me any good.”

  He nodded. “Absolutely right. Albert, the other cat you met, is on his way over there right now to take care of it.”

  I burst out laughing. “That some kind of stupid test, or something? You really think I believe that? You’ve already taken care of them, assuming if, and it’s a big if, they ever existed in the first place. It was a done deal before I ever started this trip to get them, so you can cut the crap and get to the point. I’d like to skip to the part where you kill me or let me go, but I know you won’t do that, so let’s get off the files at least.”

  Saint sighed and stood up from his chair. He placed his paws behind his back and started slowly pacing from one side to another in front of me.

  “I’m sure you’ve learned by now that Saint isn’t my actual name.”

  “Yeah. It’s some kind of weird super villain name you’ve given yourself to fit your delusions.”

  He continued marching without missing a beat. “I know you feel that way right now, Trigger, but I think you know in your heart that I’m not the villain. Our government is. The city is. The dogs are. All of it. They have kicked cats around from every direction and every single encounter they faced. You’ve had the privilege of being born a dog, so I understand you have a different perspective than I do, and that you may not understand this.”

  “You know what, that might be true. You ever spend much time in the Black District?”

  He shook his head, but continued walking. “Can’t say I have. So what?”

  “Maybe you should spend some time over there. I see a lot of cats in suits showing off big money here in Adria. Lots of business owners and high rollers. Are there as many as there are dogs? Maybe not, but here’s something I’ve learned from the Black District. Your species matters a lot less than your bank account. A cat with money has way more opportunity than a dog without it.”

  He nodded as he continued to pace. “I accept that, I suppose. It still doesn’t change the fact that the money is still mostly consolidated within one species in particular. Maybe what we're talking about isn’t so different.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but these differences are shrinking by the day, by the hour, by the minute. In a few years things will be a lot more even. What you’re talking about doing is setting everything back again. Same story, different species. And on and on it goes.”

  “See, there’s our difference in perspective again. It’s easy for you to say that when you belong to the species that did the wronging, rather than the one that was wronged. If dogs make that choice in the first place, who’s saying they won’t make it again once cats become too powerful? A balance this delicate should be regulated and enforced by a just, honest government.”

  I laughed. “Regulated and enforced? For someone so opposed to the government, you sound an awful lot like one of those blowhard politicians.”

  “I said our government was the enemy, not the act of governance itself. The weakness of this government is the problem. I will make it strong, and we will make doing the right thing a legal obligation, and one to be enforced.”

  “Wow, you really have this whole hero complex thing bad. You can’t legislate good and evil. If you try, you’re just going to be left with evil, and you’ll find most of it in the mirror.”

  He shook his head. “Come on, I know you know your history a little better than that. How is what I’m talking about different from what the dogs were doing? The government was much stronger before. They were able to keep cats in check. All I will do different is make one different choice.”

  “See, that’s what you aren’t understanding. You’re not making an original choice. You’re making the same choice.”

  He stopped, raising one paw in the air. “Not true. I will allow dogs the same rights as cats, with only two exceptions. They won’t own property, and we will not allow them to vote. The dogs had a similar system. Cats weren’t allowed to hold any position of power or responsibility. They weren’t allowed to do a lot of things, like-”

  I interrupted. “Like vote? Like own property?”

  He placed both paws behind his back again and resumed pacing. “As I said, those two things will be the same. Everything else that really matters will not. If dogs and cats can’t do the right thing on their own, then they must be made to do the right thing.”

  I grinned. “And be led into this new golden age of felines by Saint, a true hero of the cats and dogs alike.”

  He slowed his pace, offering me a grin of his own. “Did I detect less sarcasm that time?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. All sarcasm, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve enjoyed our conversation. Another thing I like about you, Trigger. You don’t mind telling someone exactly how you see something, even when they hold your life firmly in their paw. Maybe I should offer you a position in my government, just as proof of my goodwill. An advisor, perhaps? A judge in the High Court?” He stopped again, scratching his chin with his paw. “How about Chief of Police? It will be much easier dealing with the dogs of the city with one of their own as police chief. You could personally see to it that I don’t get too far out of line. You could push back if I became unfair. If power leads me astray.”

  Come to think of it, if a cat like this came into power, would Patches have the guts to stand in his way? I knew his heart was in the right place, and I knew he was the best chief the city had ever had, but he was willing to ride things out when Mr. B was in charge. Still, who could argue with his timing? He had a lot more patience than me. It’s why I ended up with this crummy job, and now he’s the Chief of Police. He knew how to play along, buy his time, and strike at the ideal opportunity. No, even if I were to consider his offer honestly, the right chief already had the job.

  I lowered my head for a moment. “No, I think you’ll like the current chief if you become the mayor. He knows how to play ball.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. “Not a friend of yours?”

  “Who? Patches? It is what it is. I wouldn’t call us friends.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt speaking that way about one of the best friends I had. I was taking a play from his book, so I swallowed my pride and gave it a shot. But why was I suddenly so worried? Was he getting to me? Maybe I was just getting to know him better. Maybe it was just occurring to me just how serious the situation truly was. He was getting in my head.

  He spoke suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. “My, my,” He pointed to the windows along the top of the wall. “We’ve chatted the evening away, I’m afraid. You’d better get going so you can get a good night’s sleep and think about what you will tell Herman tomorrow.”

  “What’s there to say? He and I both know someone at his headquarters, or several someones, answer to you. I’ve got no way of identifying who and I’m fresh out of leads.” Not that I would give up that easily, but all those things were very much true.

  “Yes, I really have cost you a great deal of time and the payday you were expecting. When you enter your hotel room, you’ll find what I hope to be fair compensation.”

  I stayed silent, thinking it best to leave it alone.

  “Alright, you’re free to go,” he said, casually.

  I tilted my head. “Just like that? You’re just going to let me walk out of here?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? I’m sure you already surmised that you’re very close to where you were already. You can follow the directions in reverse. Besides, I trust you.”

  “You mean that you made distrusting me unnecessary. This is another throwaway warehouse we’re squatting in that won’t lead anywhere or to anyone, and it’s not like I can beat your employees up and take you downtown myself. Bravo. I’m impressed.”

  “Maybe next time
we can have this chat under better circumstances,” he said, smiling.

  “Maybe.”

  He nodded to Chancey, then to my paws. Chancey walked over and untied each leg from the chair, watching my legs cautiously as he did. Smart cat. I was fighting every urge to hit him in the face, but after he untied my paws, I stood up and rubbed my wrists. I nodded, trying to maintain my composure as I turned to walk away. It was a genuine power move to allow me to just walk away like this. It made it clear, without a doubt, who had the upper hand here. And it wasn’t me.

  15

  It was clear by now that Saint had things locked down tight with Herman, at least where I was concerned. There was no use in going back to the bank again, and Herman would never cooperate with me if I went to the police. It was looking more and more like that was my only choice. So much for my big payday.

  That’s what I thought anyway, until I got back to my hotel room. Underneath my bed was a gigantic (and very heavy) duffel bag, bursting at the seams with cash. I didn’t count every dollar, but there was at least as much in here is what Herman promised, possibly more. Just how much money had he been stealing from Herman? Did the dog really make so much money that he wouldn’t notice that much money missing?

  Saint told me in our first meeting that he would do something that no one else had done before, and that was to take me seriously. It’s high time I did the same. I rang up Herman and let him know what kind of wall we were up against, and I gave no hint that I was anything other than done with this case. Last thing I needed was him trying to get in my way too. I apologized, gave him a tally of the daily rate thus far, plus expenses, and called it a morning.

  I slipped one shirt inside the duffel bag, and left one sleeve partially hanging outside of the zipper, so it looked like I was carrying a duffel bag full of clothes slung over my shoulder. Then I hefted it all the way back to the Black District, hoping against all hope that I wouldn’t get robbed along the way. I considered making a much shorter trip to Buddy’s office in Adria District. It’s what he would’ve wanted me to do. However, I got the distinct feeling that Saint was being very honest with me, that he had no interest in the Black District. Yet another thing he had in common with Mr. B.

  If he had any contacts at all there, they were likely few and far between. Besides, I had a very talented friend there who had been itching for some high-profile action for quite a while now, and I was more than happy to give it to him. Much, I’m sure, to Buddy’s frustration and disappointment.

  My legs were dragging behind me when I finally made it to the Black District ACPD headquarters. I stood outside the doors for a long time, considering whether or not I should go inside or just keep walking a few blocks down to my apartment and hide the money there. The right thing to do was to take the money to Petey. It was evidence, and I knew that. Why should I give up the big payday and risk my hide for this whole city… again? I took a deep breath, shook my head, and walked inside.

  Lulu seemed excited to see me stumble through the door. Then again, she was always excited.

  “Heya, Private T! Long time no see! What’s in the bag? Stolen goods?”

  “Something like that,” I panted. “Petey in?”

  “He sure is. I think he cleared out the entire day just for you. Let me buzz him and let him know you’re here.” She pressed down on the buzzer for an uncomfortable length of time, before I could hear Petey shouting over it.

  “Enough, Lulu! What is it?”

  “Boss, you have an appointment with the finest private detective in all of Arc City. Did you know that?”

  “Oh? Actually, I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, but we may have to reschedule, because Trigger says he needs to see you first.”

  They both started cackling like a puppy and kitten. You’d think that joke would get old, but it never seemed to. “You should write that one down,” I said.

  She grinned from ear to ear as she picked up a pile of papers on her desk and gestured like she would throw them at me. I ducked. As much as she was always kidding around, she was also crazy enough to do that sort of thing.

  “Well, send him in.”

  Lulu finally let go of the button on the buzz box. “Alright, you know the way.” She pointed to the shirt hanging out of the double bag. “Hope Petey enjoys the souvenir you brought him.”

  I grinned. “Oh, you have no idea. I think it will shock him.” I tipped my hat. “Good seeing you, Lulu.”

  I headed down the hallway and knocked on Petey’s office door. He had worked down the pile of papers in front of him enough that at least I could see his face now. He stretched his head up above it and motioned for me to come in. I stepped inside and held up the duffel bag. “You’re gonna want to make some room on your desk for this.”

  He frowned. “Does it look like I have room for a duffel bag on my desk, Trigger? Just tell me what’s in it.”

  “Oh no, Petey. You’ll have to work for this one. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  His eyes met mine for a moment, and he seemed to understand. He got up and started moving small stacks of papers onto the floor, an armload at a time, until they were all stacked somewhat less than neatly to the side. He motioned with both paws toward his desk. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. And you better let me help you so you don’t pop your eyeballs out hoisting that thing up here.”

  We sat the duffel bag down on the desk, and I grabbed the zipper.

  Petey paused for a moment, watching my paw, and looking up at me after I didn’t move. “Sometime today? What’s the matter, it stuck?”

  “I’ll need a drum roll for this Petey.”

  He hesitated a moment, then grinned, patting both paws, alternating on the edge of the desk. I waited for a moment and flung open the zipper, revealing the enormous pile of cash inside.

  Petey’s jaw dropped, and he stumbled back against the wall. He gathered himself, and looked up at me in disbelief. “Those are… all big bills?”

  I nodded.

  “You count it?”

  “Nope. Just flipped through enough to answer the same question you had.”

  “And you know that’s more than a year’s salary for a lieutenant, right?”

  I nodded. “Yep. A lot more.”

  “Wow. Maybe I should go private too.”

  I held up my paw. “Hold on. You may not want to commit to that just yet. Or maybe you do and today’s your lucky day. There’s a reason I came to see you.” I motioned to his chair, and we both sat down, a giant sack of money sitting awkwardly between us.

  “Alright, Trigger. I’m listening.”

  “I’ll give you the abridged version.”

  He nodded.

  “Ever heard of the Feline Liberation Party?” I asked.

  “You mean Feline Liberation League?”

  “No, I mean party. They made the jump from activism to direct involvement in politics.”

  He looked down at the bag of money again, resting his chin on both paws, his elbows resting on his desk. “Oh… That’s not good. I’ve been briefed on them before. Only a little, as they don’t seem to have much of a presence here in the Black District.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s great. I was counting on that.”

  “Don’t tell me you got yourself mixed up with them.”

  “Not by choice, Petey. This was supposed to be an easy-money job. Similar payout to this pile of cash in front of me. I signed an NDA, but I guess that’s out the window now. Whoops. Anyway, I’m between a rock and a hard place. Turns out the party’s leader, potentially the soon-to-be mayor of the city, a cat going by the name of Saint, was the primary recipient of the money that was being funneled from this bank. Apparently, it was a lot. Enough to form and fund a political party, pay off a private detective with a bag full of cash, and still have enough left over for poker night.”

  “So, why not go to Buddy? This sounds like an Adria problem.”

  “No offense, Petey, but I would’ve if I
could’ve. They seem to be operating almost exclusively in that district. Sure, Buddy would have the most up-to-date information and he would be in the best position to help. He’s never happy when I sign a nondisclosure agreement on anything I do over there in the district. He’s of the firm opinion that I’m usually causing more trouble over there than I’m worth. Maybe he’s right. Saint and his crew have been able to follow my movements with acute precision, probably because of the constant, reliable leaks from the bank. He’s already recruited me for two involuntary meetings, and I don’t think he’ll be as hospitable next time when he finds out I went to Buddy, especially after he blocked me from going further with the bank. He seemed to think he can bring me around to his side. Promised me a ranking position wherever I wanted. High government. A judge. Chief of…”

  He sighed, his expression grim. “Here we go again. Not that you would make a bad chief, Trigger, but this seems like the Mr. B situation all over again.”

  “Worse. Saint wants to impose all sorts of restrictions on dogs in society and how dogs and cats interact with one another. Dogs will become second-class citizens. He seems to think it won’t be as bad as it was before, but I don’t buy it. Let a group of dogs have one protest, or maybe even a riot, and watch the hammer come down. No, I honestly think we may find ourselves reminiscing about the days when we had good old Mr. B instead of Saint at the helm. We’ve got to put a stop to this.”

  “Okay, you convinced me. So how do you want to go about this?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, this is your show now, Petey. But my suggestion might be something like this; even though Saint has few dealings here in the Black District, he will be very sloppy about expunging those records and covering up his tracks. Anyone he’s associated with over here will probably not have much protection from him. His real name is Richard, by the way, and he used to work with Mr. B. For Mr. B, to be more precise. Let’s start with the official records and see what we can find. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow. I want to catch a meal, a shower, and something resembling sleep. With one eye open.”