This story is a work of fiction.  The facts were made up and names were left the same. All characters are copyright their creator (me), and should not be used without permission.

 

The Case of the Rare Card

By Desert Mutt

 

The day had been dark and dreary. It had rained incessantly, and showed no signs of letting up tonight. My name is Tracker McCoy, and I am a private investigator.  I sat at my desk, contemplating the pistol I keep in the right drawer, and the whiskey bottle I keep in the left. 

As I was about to nap, there came a knocking at the door. In walked a young lady beagle. As she entered the office, my eyes scanned over her quickly. She seemed about average height. She kept her hair combed and loose. The lady was dressed in loose clothing, and there was a ring on her left hand.

"Mr. McCoy?" she asked in a voice that had undertones of hope and fear.  I stood up to greet the lady.

"Yes," I said in my gentlest tone as I stood to shake the ladies hand.  "What can I do for you Mrs..?"

"Delzor," she stated as she took my hand. "Karen Delzor. I've come because someone tried to steal something from us, and I believe to be very valuable." I looked at her a moment, contemplating the weight behind her words.

"Please have a seat Mrs. Delzor and tell me what happened," I proceeded to sit down. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"No thank you," she stated. She took a moment, and began to tell me her story.

"We recently moved to Anthro City from a small town called Elder Heights.  It's only been about three months or so.  We came here due to my husband's career, and we were told it's a good place to raise a family.

"About three days ago, a package arrived to our apartment from our friend, a young cartoonist by the name of Desert Mutt. Enclosed was a piece of metalwork the size of a trading card. It was a golden rectangle with a silver dragon sculpted on one side.  Included was a note stating that he found it at a pawnshop in town. He was surprised that it was surprisingly cheap, and it seemed the shop owner wanted to get rid of it. Afterwards, the pawnshop was destroyed in a mysterious fire. He felt someone was following him, and the same someone wanted to steal the card, possibly even kill for it. He couldn't just get rid of the card. He figured the best thing to do was to send it somewhere no one would find it, so he sent the piece of metal to us.

"Earlier today, when we got back to our apartment, we found that it had been ransacked. Every room was checked, but they didn't steal anything. We believe they wanted the card, but my husband took with him to work luckily, but the place was a mess. When we called the police, they said that since nothing was stolen, the person couldn't be easily traced, and more then likely they wouldn't catch the person.

"After the police left, one of our neighbors gave us your business card and told us you were pretty good. I was hoping you would be willing to help us," she looked at me with a tears forming in her eyes. "We're starting a family, and we can't have complete strangers following us.  Please help us."

Mrs. Delzor had told me a lot in this short time; a lot that I had to think about.  This was an unusual case, one that would be difficult for me to figure out. On the other hand, could I let this go? Could I leave this family feeling unsafe in their own apartment?

"Do you have this gold and silver card with you right now?" I asked as I stood and walked around the desk. She nodded as she stood up, and pulled the item out of her back pocket.  The measurements she had given were accurate, however, the card's thickness was about a quarter inch.  With the dragon, it was about three-quarters of an inch. I took the card from her and looked at it closely.

"Would you mind if I held onto this?" I asked her as I looked at the dragon on the front.

"Not at all," she said with a sigh of relief in her voice.  "In fact, we would appreciate if we could get rid of it ourselves."

I asked for their home address. I told her I would come by their apartment shortly and look around.  She expressed her gratitude and left.  I set up a small folder for the case, and as I left, slipped the card into the inner pocket of my jacket.

The mid day air was heavy with rain. The sky was gray, making the afternoon rather depressing. I contemplated over the story as I walked along the street. There were no markings on the card, and it felt solid. Why would somebody want it so badly? As I analyzed the problem, I reached the apartments the Delzors lived in.  I took the elevator up to their place

The young couple was waiting for me. Mrs. Delzor introduced me to her husband, Feral. Mr. Delzor had a look on his face that implied mischief. The apartment had been ransacked. As I looked, they told me their friend sent them e-mail.  It was a series of comic strips focused around the main characters missing address book. His way of warning them someone stole it and for them to be careful. There was not much more information to collect from the apartment, so I thanked them and took my leave.

As I left the building, there was a young man standing next to a limousine.  He said his boss wanted to speak with me.  I declined the offer. It was at this point the jackal introduced me to his associate, and insisted on my getting into the limo. One cannot really argue with a magnum, so I reluctantly complied.

I sat in a leather seat across from a slightly obese panther. He sat there in a well-pressed suit. His tiepin glistened of diamond, as did the oversized ring occupying his right hand. His beady eyes studied me as thoroughly as I studied him.

"Nice to finally meet you Mr. McCoy," he stated in a voice on the cusp of a growl. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marcus Cain.  May I offer you a drink?"

"No thank you Mr. Cain," I stated calmly. "I offer drinks, but I don't drink myself. Now, let's get to what it is you wish to talk to me about."

"Oh very well," he sighed. Mr. Cain shifted, and clasped his hands together. "I believe we are looking for the same item. A gold and silver card with a dragon upon it.  It is very important to me. I am even willing to pay you ten thousand dollars for it.  I know you will not answer now, so think about it. We'll let you off here. Call me if you decide to accept my offer." He handed me a business card, and opened the door.

Marcus Cain was an unexpected addition into the formula. I needed to talk to someone who could get information, someone who could tell me what I needed to know about Mr. Cain. One name came to mind.

Starla Moon was a black she wolf about my age. She had a history of being a pickpocket, but the commissioner pulled stings to get her to help find a robber in order to go free. Nowadays, she no longer picked pockets. Ms. Moon's current activities, while still illegal, were closer to legitimate work.  Starla ran a website, but also had a tendency to hack into certain databases which people were not suppose to access without special clearance. I was the only one who knew of her activities, but decided not to report on a quid pro quo relationship. If anyone could get me information on a person, Ms. Moon could.

"Starla?" I asked as I entered the she-wolf's home. I heard the familiar noise of typing coming from the computer room. I walked in to find Ms. Moon working on the computer. She was wearing her normal clothes of cargo pants and tank top. I knocked on the door to get her attention. The wolf femme turned to look at me. Her amber eyes lit up and she smiled as she stood up to greet me.

"Tracker, I'm so happy to see you," she said as she hugged. Her faced turned serious as realization came to her.  "This isn't one of your friendly visits you do once in a while, is it?"

"I'm sorry, but no," I told to Starla as I reached into my pocket.  "I need to use your special computers skills to look up information on somebody for me." I handed her the business card Marcus Cain gave me.  "I don't think he is operating fully within the laws." She took the card from me and looked at it.

"If I do this for you," she said with a sly look on her face, "You have to give me a special bonus tonight."

"Anything that I can get for you," I replied, knowing what it was she was going to ask from me. She grinned as she headed for the computer. Starla's fingers flashed across the keyboard. After a few seconds, she leaned back in the chair, and placed her hands behind her neck.

Marcus Cain had alleged crime syndicate connections. He was suspected for numerous crimes, but the police never arrested due to lack of evidence. The list included grand theft auto, murder, and even federal crimes such as drug running and counterfeiting. If someone could produce evidence for several, Mr. Cain could go to prison for twenty years or more.

"Now that you got what you want," she said in a demanding tone as she spun me and sat in my lap, "It's time for you to give me what I want."

I awoke at three in the morning, feeling thirsty. I carefully slid out from underneath the ebony lupus and out of her bed.  As I padded to the kitchen to get something to drink, my mind started running over the case facts once more.

I was missing some crucial detail. Marcus Cain struck me as the type who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted, but he struck me as someone who wanted power. He clearly had wealth, so it could not be for the cash value of the card. Mr. Cain could easily afford to have one custom made. It would not be for sentimental reasons, since Mr. Mutt found it in a pawnshop. Marcus must believe it somehow connects him with illegal activities. The question now is "how does it connect him?"

A loud squeak brought me back to the present, but made me lose my train of thought.  I turned to see Starla getting up in the bed.

"Sorry," she apologized as she wrapped the sheet around her body, "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it was you were thinking about."

"It's alright," I told her as I got her a drink as well.  "Your bed has made noise all night.  Maybe you should get the springs fixed, or replace the loose…" That was when it clicked. I realized what it was that I had missed. I figured out what I had seen about the dragon that I had not realized until just now.

"I need you to go get your tiny screwdrivers," I told Starla as I went to get my jacket. "You helped me just crack this case." I got the card, grinning to myself.  "And we are about to have the power to send a dangerous man away for a long time."

At seven that morning, I went to visit the Delzors to tell them the case was closed and return the card. Eleven thirty a.m. found me on my way to the office of Marcus Cain. I walk in, and drop a memory card on top of his desk.  Mr. Cain picked it up, and looked at it.  He even studied the megabyte numbers.

"That is all the data that was hidden inside the card," I told him as he looked from the card to me, "including all the illegal activities you are connected with, and the attempts to blackmail you with it."

"Did you make a copy of this?" he asked as he eyed me suspiciously.

"No," I told him, "on my word of honor, I didn't."

"I appreciate you bringing this to me," Marcus Cain said in a smug tone.  "I will write you a check for ten thousand, as agreed." He pulled out a checkbook and pen.

"Don't bother," I stated as I turned to leave his office.  "I don't take blood money.  Besides, I did it for a couple starting a family, not for you."

At lunchtime, I sat at a restaurant not far from the office building, and watched as the police led Marcus Cain and his accomplices to the cars. I grinned as he was brought out in hand cuffs and set into one of the police cars. As the police drove off, I turned back to Starla.

"Ok," she said as we sat at the table, "So, someone took photographs and short film of evidence to connect Cain to the crimes and tried to extort money from him. When the person found out Cain was after him, he hid it in the card and took it to the pawnshop. Right?"

"Correct," I replied, "the shop owner was probably a friend who knew what it was, and when the blackmailer was killed, he knew he was in trouble, and couldn't wait to get rid of the card. When Cain found out the blackmailer had hidden the card he sent people to find it. Mr. Mutt's name was probably on the register, so one of the associates destroyed the pawnshop to get rid of the evidence. Since the young man didn't know what he truly had, there was no reason to kill him and call more attention to the event."

"Two more questions," she told me as the food arrived.  "First, what made you think the information was hidden inside the item? Second, why aren't you afraid that Mr. Cain will realize you turned the information over to the police?"

"Mr. Cain," I responded as she ate her pasta, "still has some warped sense of honor, and is willing to accept honesty when he hears it.  You copied the data onto the memory stick I gave him, not me. He doesn't know where the second copy came from.

"As for the memory card being hidden inside the sculpture, something wasn't adding up. It was when we were talking about your bed when I realized what it was. The eye didn't shine the same way as the silver, and the pupil was deeper than it needed to be was. It was a tiny screw. The screw kept the dragon on the card, and a series of grooves kept it in place."

"So," she asked me as we finished lunch, "the Delzors are safe, the card is harmless, Marcus Cain is going to prison, and you've made a nice wad of cash off this case. What's next Mr. McCoy?"

I thought for a moment, and finally said, "Well, after lunch, I figure we can go back to your place, relax, and have a some fun." She grinned at me slyly at this last part. With that idea rushing us, we took the rest of the food to go.