Series of Death, Draft 02, CH 26 (Patreon)

Trembor wondered where the crowd was, as he parked, then wondered where the enforcers who should be there to ensure no one got too close, or onto the scene were. If there was no crowd, they weren’t needed, and their presence tended to be what drew the crowd, but they should have been sent. He checked the information Dispatch had given him. He was at the right place.

He stepped out of the car and called them.

“Dispatch,” answered a tired sounding female after a dozen rings. Trembor could make out the ding of harried conversation. They had to be loud for him to hear that.

“RI Goldenmane. I’m at the scene of a body and I’m wondering where my support is.”

“Body?” she asked. “Support? I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything about that. We’re been swamped by the riot.”

A riot had caused the chaos at the precinct? Trembor had expected it to a raid on some crime family. “How bad is it?”

She sighed. “A bunch of those anti-predation activists are on a rampage at the main offices of the Revenue Bureau. We’ve had to pull from all precincts and I’m not sure we’re going to keep it under control.”

Trembor checked his pad. The financial district wasn’t too far. “Do you need help? I can be there in a few minutes.” Running might be better, a riot would back up traffic for blocks.

“Can we? I have no doubt, but we can’t have citizens getting involved, even someone working closely with us. I’m sorry. If it’s any comfort, you’ll probably have a lot of work to do once it’s over. Riot always leave bodies behind.” Whoever had the financial district in their territory was going to be busy.

“Alright, in that case, did anyone stay behind? I should have a few enforcers to make sure no one tampers with the scene.”

“I… I don’t know. We had to pull from everywhere. I can—”

“Wait,” Trembor said as the door to the house opened and an enforcer stepped out. “Looks like they sent someone.” He headed for the house.

“Oh good,” she said, letting out a breath. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to help you.”

“I’ll let you get back to managing the riot,” Trembor said. “Good luck.”

“To you also.”

He put the pad away.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the enforcer said, a young-sounding gray-furred hare, taking a step in his direction. “This is a crime scene. I need to ask you to step off the property.”

He took out his ID. “Registered Investigator Trembor Goldenmane.”

The hare studied it.

“Are you the only one here?” Now that he was close enough, the hare looked older than he sounded. He had trouble staying still, looking around nervously. A mix of prey wariness, Trembor expected, and the energy prey species who used speed to survive he hadn’t learned to control yet.

“Softhoof is at the back, making sure no one enters that way,” he said, returning the ID. “Hardchest is…” he motioned around them. “Somewhere. She’s supposed to be taking the neighbor’s statements. There was an entire squad of us heading here, but something’s going on in the financial district and they redirected everyone but the three of us there.”

“A riot,” Trembor said, and the hare took a step back before he could control his reaction. “Where’s the body?” He asked to give the hare something other than that chaos to think about.

“Bedroom,” the officer answered once he’d regained his composure. “Down the hall, at the end, room on the left. I cleared the house; no one else there. Do you need me to go with you?”

“Stay here and keep anyone from entering the house. There’s no telling what room will have the evidence that tells us who killed them.”

The hare nodded and opened the door for Trembor.

The house was wider than deep. On his right was the kitchen, with a small dining area next to it. Facing him was the door leading to the yard; he could see the form of the enforcer standing there through the window. On his left the living room was large, with an expensive screen on the wall, a long couch facing it, with two seats on each side. The furniture was massive and solidly built. It was needed to accommodate the owner. Rhinoceroses were a massive species, the average one was also pure muscle. That this one had been able to afford the proper furniture spoke of a good productivity rating.

The wall had recently had multiple picture frames on it. The discoloration showed they’d been taken down. A crumpled paper in the small trashcan by one of the seats turned out to be a picture of a female rhinoceros. A bad breakup? He wondered, remembering the torn pictures of the wolf Trembor had thrown out.

The hall on the left of the living room had three doors, a bathroom, and two bedrooms, the first of which had been turned into storage. There were signs of boxes being moved about recently, disturbed dust on the floor, more of it in the air. Someone had moved out in a hurry and the house’s owner hadn’t bothered tidying the room back.

The other bedroom had a large bed, also solidly built, a dressed, an attached shower. One set of shelves with books on them, adventure, by the titles. Legs poked out from the other side of the bed.

His body.

Death was a broken neck. The head was twisted all the way around. How the killer had managed that, Trembor had no idea; rhinoceroses were tough and strong. He looked around for signs of a fight and found recent scratches on the wooden floor where furniture had been moved. Shoved out of the way, then moved back in place? This would indicate the killer tried covering their tracks, which spoke to them staying calm after the kill. Calm enough to put everything back in place, make the bed, but not pay the tax?

He messaged Jaxca with the address and species. The frog would need a larger and sturdier gurney for this body. The reply came with an hour ETA. It gave Trembor ample time to process the body.

He put gloves on, then searched the body. A scent check told him the body was only a couple of hours old. He found the wallet, but the male’s ID wasn’t in it. That was unusual. Especially since he was dressed in work pants, shirt, and heavy boots, which meant he’d been heading out. A search on the address would give him the name if he didn’t locate it. He frowned. He didn’t like that the ID wasn’t there, but he couldn’t figure out why.

He stood, intending to look in the drawers for it. Maybe the male had a different wallet for it? He knew a few enforcers who did that, not wanting to lose their ID if someone picked their pockets.

A creaking by the door made him look over his shoulder. The hare was entering the room. Why had he left the door unguarded?

“You need to go back to—”

The hare rushed Trembor, and the lion stepped away from the body to preserve its integrity. As fast as Trembor knew hares to be, this one was faster, fists coming at him almost too fast for him to dodge. Closed hands meant he wasn’t looking to kill him, he thought, then remembered the rhinoceros had no claw marks on him.

No, there was no way this hare was the killer.

He stepped back and kicked out, his foot catching the hare on the shoulder, but instead of sending him flying, the hare caught it and forced Trembor to anchor them both of fall too. He wrenched the foot out of the grip before the fist landed on his ankle and stepped back again, the dresser pressed against his back.

This prey was used to fighting larger and stronger predators.

Trembor stepped aside, looking to gain room to kick out again, but this time the hare stayed close, only allowing him to use short and quick jabs with his foot that lacked strength. Cursing, Trembor found himself with his back against the bookcase, fully on the defensive.

He blocked and waited for his opening. For the first time in recent weeks, happy to remember Marlot and their training together, the wolf forcing him to adapt to different fighting styles.

As the hare wound back, Trembor struck first, hand also closed. He didn’t connect properly, only staggering the hare instead of throwing him back, but before Trembor could take advantage of even that little space the hare grabbed his arm and twisted it, forcing Trembor down to his knees and biting back a scream of pain.

The hare stepped around him, moving Trembor’s arm with him and twisting harder when the lion tried to get a leg under him. He felt breath against his ear and thought he might get some explanation of what was going on, but the hare stepped back.

Before Trembor could ask his question, pain exploded at the back of his head. He fought against the darkness that followed it, but another explosion of pain brought him down. He saw the floor approach, but the darkness enveloped him before he hit it.

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