“Seriously, I am sorry!” Bianca said as Muldoon stepped out of the back office at Vermilion’s.
“I must say that part of me wanted to slap you. But I want someone who would not be squeamish in front of other people. As you said. People we know are out there in danger tonight. No time for nonsense.”
She paused and tried to read something on the cat's face, but found nothing. Morty had his big eyes glued to the several monitors, running the videos from last night.
=================================
They had arrived at Vermillion’s 30 minutes ago and spent the last 10 going through the footage. The ride there was one of the most awkward. Ruld was a statue looking forward and not saying a word the whole way. Muldoon was testing his luck with the occasional joke that crashed and burned instead of landing.
At night, the place probably burned like a beacon. Especially with the crimson neon rose above the awning, letters buzzing VERMILION in that gaudy, overconfident glow.
But now? The sign hummed tiredly in daylight, red washed to a sickly pink against soot-stained brick. Last night’s cigarette butts still carpeted the sidewalk, crushed under heels, and the faint sour smell of stale beer lingered even out here.
A tired-looking female pitbull was outside talking to a man in weird but expensive-looking clothing. She was big and bulky, a small predator. Her fur had the odd waxy gleam some would get when their protein would come mostly from insects instead of livestock.
At least that makes her ok in my books, Morty thought.
The man looked older, mid-50s, wiry build. Salt-and-pepper hair combed back but already fighting loose strands in the morning damp. Thin-framed glasses with red lenses were perched almost on the tip of his nose, almost falling off.
The duo looked mildly interested but then had surprised expressions as the cruiser parked.
“You guys from DAIR?” The pitbull asked, head turning from Ruld to Muldoon. “When we got the summons, I thought it was concerning a noise complaint. Or I dunno, taxes?”
She got a light nudge from the man’s foot.
“How can this Lírio be of assistance to the enforcers today?” He had a theatrical flair going on, but Morty could see that he was a little worried and confused.
The big enforcers were quiet, just nodding with their heads. So the cat stepped forward.
“Mr Lirio Vass. Right? The owner?”
“That is me. And this lady is Maribel. Our front door bouncer.”
“You guys can call me Mari,” she said to Ruld. She was short and solid, broad shoulders under a bomber jacket patched with club logos. Her hair was in tight braids wrapped back, neat as her posture.
“Well, my name is Mortimer Roitman, my buddies here are Enforcer Muldoon Murdock and Enforcer Ruld Kent. Something happened yesterday, and we hope that you guys can help us in our investigation.”
“We will do our best.”
“So what is this supersecret investigation you guys are doing?” Maribel actually sounded eager.
“Maybe inside?” Morty asked, masking a gesture toward the door of the nightclub
“Of course, officers. But please, don’t judge us on the state of disarray, the cleaning crew comes at noon.”
“That won’t be an issue,” Bianca said, bouncing ahead with her bags.
Inside, it was worse than the outside.
The glamour had been peeled back for the cleaning shift: overhead fluorescents flicked and made the whole space look like a gutted fish. The dance floor was sticky under their boots, still glittering faintly from confetti. Chairs balanced on tables like tired drunks leaning on one another. The air stank of bleach, trying and failing to murder the smell of sweat, booze, and smoke. Bianca made a joke about flashing a dark light in there.
The staff was no better.
They looked like a nest of vampires caught in the sun. Hoodies, sunglasses indoors, clutching paper cups of coffee like lifelines. Every eye said the same thing: too early, too sober, too much cop for this hour. There was a bat with a fishnet shirt, drooling as he slept against a wall. And a large horse handing out cups of steaming coffee. The smell was bad from 15 feet away.
The manager, a stripped hyena, rushed to greet them and exchanged a few quick words with Lírio. She was in last night’s eyeliner, smudged and looking like bruises under her eyes. There was a cigarette in her hand, and Morty couldn’t judge her; the floor was littered with tons of disposable cups tossed around. She wouldn’t make it look worse.
The Vermilion’s rose logo on the wall behind the bar gleamed faintly in the sterile light, out of place, like a corpse with lipstick.
Vermilion wasn’t just a club. In daylight, it was a carcass, and its staff were the scavengers waiting to get back to the dark.
“So what is this all about?” a tired-looking rabbit in a red evening dress asked. She was wearing a bowler hat with holes for her ears.”
Morty scanned the place.
These people were barely there. Most looked confused. One did look a bit guilty and was trying to make himself look small, an elk, but the cat could see the tip of the pipe poking out of his pocket.
“First of all. I wasn’t the one who made the subpoena to get you here for this interview today. And before you go wildly trying to guess the reason we are here, I will be blunt, because time is important. Yesterday, on the corner of Louise and Walnut, there was a call about an altercation. There was a casualty. And the victim had your logo and a paid stamp on his arm. So we are here trying to ID the guy.”
“Can’t you just look into his wallet or something?” The bat, now awake, yawned.
“We only have the arm.”
That got everyone's attention. The rabbit almost fell out of her chair.
“Is this related to that Varro guy? My sister lives near the docks by the river, and she said there was gun shooting all night.”
“No!” Morty said a bit louder than he intended, but he snatched that conversation by the neck and killed it mercilessly before it started. “This is a different thing, and we hope that you guys can help us. Bianca, if you may?”
The human technician was busy staring at a green glowing puddle on the floor, and then looked back at him, distracted.
“Oh, yeah!” She opened her bag and pulled out several copies of the same picture. They showed the arm, trying not to focus on the part where it had been severed. Those were high-quality and with colours, showing off the fur pattern.
When everyone got a copy, the cat continued.
“The call about it to the local DAIR was at 2:03 A.M. So our victim came here and left before that to have the time to walk to that corner.”
“Well, during the weeknights, we close at 3. The house wasn’t that full yesterday.”
“The victim was some sort of canid. He might have been accompanied by a female feline, a male bovine and a male human.”
“That sounds super vague,” Maribel said.
“Ah! Yes. But that is what I got by testing the rest of the blood pool at the scene. So we don’t have anything more specific.” Bianca said casually.
The staff looked wide-eyed at her.
“Well, blunt it is,” Morty said, “At the scene, there was blood from the victim and from the other 3 others. We couldn’t find any other evidence of these people besides the blood. For now, we have that, and some skin cells under the victim’s claws with equine DNA.
Everyone turned to the horse. He choked on his coffee.
“Fuck you all.”
“I always thought he would snap someday,” the rabbit said. But it was teasing.
The horse looked at her, frowning.
“There were other horses prancing around yesterday, Lulu. Stop teasing Egan,” said Maribel.
Egan, the horse, nodded at the pitbull bouncer. She gave him the thumbs up.
“Wasn’t there a bison and a horse fighting yesterday? I had to stop the music because of a fight.” The bat said. “I’m Vee, by the way. I work as the house DJ during the week, because that fucker there doesn’t want to pay my weekend rates.”
Lírios Vass looked offended but remained quiet at a gesture made by Ruld.
“So what can you tell me about this guy yesterday?”
Egan cleared his throat. “As Mr. Vee pointed out. There was an altercation. Not the only one, but we had to intervene in this case. And no, the bison was not fighting the horse. He was trying to separate. The horse was a mustang, an older guy, maybe fifties? I dunno… he was making a mess. Punching this young kid, barely legal.”
He froze and squinted at the pic Bianca had handed him.
“Hey, guys. The kid that the horse was punching. Do you think the fur matches?”
Maribel made a surprised face. “Oh fuck. I think it does. The kid was waiting with me in the front booth until you kicked the trouble makers through the back door.”
Could it be this easy? Morty thought.
“Tell me you have cameras,” he asked.
“Yes, officer,” said Lírio. “A few on the front. One from the back alley. and a few on the dance floor and bar.”
“Perfect. Egan, Right?”
“Egan Holt. Yes,” the horse replied. “I am the inside Bouncer. Maribel tries to filter the problematic cases outside, and I kick out the ones who get too drunk.
Egan had some large arms and legs, and a barrel stomach. Could pass as a predator if one doesn’t know a horse. But he was a Percheron. One of the biggest a regular anthro could be without being a pred.
“Ok, so you kicked him out. And he had a bison friend. That actually fits what we are looking for.” Morty stepped closer. He looked and sounded friendly. Encouraging.
“Do you remember anything else? Were they by themselves?”
“No, the bison guy kept complaining about being kicked out. Not to me. To the friend. Yelling that a coach should know how to behave. There was a couple with them. A lynx and a guy. They all appeared to be the same age group.”
“Oh, the lynx with the pearls?” The rabbit perked up.
She then turned to Morty and the enforcers as if she was about to gossip. “I work close to Maribel. I do the stamps, work coat room; this lynx lady was complaining to her husband that their friend was being an idiot and that they shouldn’t let him drink anymore. They came and got their coats, and they had the tokens for the other guys.”
Egan nodded.
“Yeah, I said they were being escorted out, so they handed their tokens to a friend who went to pick their coats.”
“It fits… A horse, a bison, a lynx, and a human. You said you work in the coat room… Lulu?”
“Yes. Quite easy and a bit boring, so I try to fish for stuff to distract myself. The bison guy looked hot when they came in. Had this vibe that could pick you up and squish you.” For a moment, Morty thought she would also be ogling Ruld, but she had set her eyes on Muldoon, who seemed unfazed.
“Daddy issues,” Maribel muttered under her breath. Lulu giggled and didn’t deny it.
“Saw anything else interesting while fishing last night then?”
“About them? Mhmmm, I think the horse and bison work at a school or something? The bison was wearing an Aldeham’s sweater. And the horse had this big coat with Aldeham’s logo and name on the back.”
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“That is the local college. Not that you would know,” Lírio said. He had moved to the bar area and was pouring himself a drink.
“College is still a school, boss. Just fancier and more expensive.”
Lírio sighed and rolled his eyes. “Aldeham is a public college.”
=================================
There had been more questions to get the time frame right, and then Morty asked to see the cameras. Ruld went to try to get a connection to this Aldeham college and see if they could get a list of staff members.
The back office reeked of disinfectant and stale anise spray. It had several monitors running the video from yesterday, cables spilling off its back like entrails. Naysa Calder, the hyena manager, crouched by the tower, fingers quick on the ports until everything came back to life.
“Alright,” the hyena said, tapping the trackpad with a claw. “Here’s the exit camera.”
She was pointing to a single monitor, but Vermilion used a single memory stick for everything, so the record would all play simultaneously. Morty wouldn’t want to try to shove that data on his terminal, or all of the 12 camera feeds would be squeezed on the small display at the same time. No best to use their array. Each monitor had a 12” screen and was laid side by side with the others. Good quality images, actually, but no colors or sound.
“We tried coloured ones, but those are shit when it is dark like the ones outside, or with lots of flashing lights like during the shows”. Plus, no point in having audio, or you would go crazy with the same music blasting from all these.” Naysa said.
“No problem. Can you go back? I want to see our guys.”
Naysa nodded, rolling back the track on her control, and the videos moved back in time. At 1:37, Morty saw them, emerging and walking backward. He waited until the video rewinded some more and then asked Naysa to let it play out.
The door sprang open. Egan stepped outside, and he was yelling by the way his mouth opened and closed, and the muscles in his neck tensed. A very angry-looking mustang horse came out. Taller than Egan, muscular, but not trimmed. A body like Ruld’s. A predator. He was also shouting and moving his arms in a frenzy. Then came out a bison wearing an Aldeham sweater. But bisons were problematic. They were all big. Couldn’t judge him by the video. Egan stood still as the other two argued.
Mustang kept pointing inside and actually tried to dart back in. Egan moved but wasn’t needed. The bison grabbed the mustang by the waist and held him in place. The mustang was yelling, but Morty could see his posture was something between anger and desperation. They stood like that for one minute, and he could see the bison holding strong while the other one seemed to deflate.
Naysa made it a bit faster, and Morty saw as the bison released him and started patting the other guy’s shoulder. Then a short lynx woman came out, holding a human man's arm. The man had a few coats on his other arm.
Egan said something to them, went in, and closed the door.
The lynx put her hands on her hips and started to say something. She looked cross. Morty could see the human’s conciliatory expression as he handed the clothing to the other guys, and Morty saw the Aldeham’s Symbol on the horse’s coat. The bison put on a heavy leather coat. The four of them exchanged a few words and walked out of the camera.
“Where did they walk to?”
“The alley leads to Dirk’s avenue. It is on the other side of the block. Most of the businesses are built so that the trash truck and delivery can come in and out without disturbing traffic. Speaking of the devil, there might be a beer delivery today…”
“Seems like an easy-to-use setup you guys use. You are being a good help. We can try to use it while you sort that one out.”
“Thanks,” she sounded honest.
“Do you guys have a printer linked to this? Or a connection to your network to get a few snapshots?”
“Oh, sure. Here. You see this dial? When it is live, you use it to select a camera, so you can move it around and zoom in or out. The cameras are not linked to a network, just the data rod. But if you set the dial, stop the feed, and hit this button here… you get a nice copy.”
A very loud machine hummed back to life, as if protesting being used. Bianca walked there and got a printout of the camera. It had the group of four people walking out, their faces clearly seen.
“Good. Really, really good.”
He grabbed it and went to try to find Ruld. The guy was using Lirio’s office. The owner was nowhere to be seen. The rhino had its terminal propped open and with a cable plugged into a socket on Lírio’s computer.
“Hey, big man. Got you a gift,” Morty said, stepping close.
“Please let it be donuts,” Ruld said mockingly as he reached for the paper the cat had offered him. “Oh, this is going to make things easier.”
“Hopefully. How is it going?”
“The college’s receptionist was being snarky and uptight, thinking it was someone trolling her, so… “ He pointed to the badge attached to the terminal. “Plugged my badge and let the auto announcement of the call scare her into action.”
“Use the tools at your disposal. Anyway, send them the picture. If those two work there, this might be how we find out their IDs.”
“Yes. Hey, I was thinking back to when we were at the garage.”
Morty stood still and smiled. “Good… So do you want to continue?”
“Yeah, I think this could help. You did say some of the people missing were happening near a high school. You think this could be it?”
Morty's mouth hung open. Ruld cocked his head, not understanding the expression, and then his eyes went wide. I mean, you were saying something that could lead to an interesting investigation. And this horse here looks like a predator.” He stammered, trying to look away.
“Yeah, yeah. He does. But I don’t think those are connected. The college and the school in question are on different sides of the borough. I can try to see if any of them live close to it when I have the address, but I have the feeling nothing is coming out of this.”
Those words carried extra weight. And it landed. He saw Ruld wince. The rhino’s eyes darted left to right. Searching for words.
“I will tell you if the college gets me an ID and address,” he muttered.
As he was stepping out, Muldoon walked in. The wolf saw Morty and gave him a hopeful smile.
Morty sighed and shook his head.
“Bianca and I went over all the transactions from yesterday. Most were cash; none of the ones we are looking for used a card or terminal to pay.”
“Got it. Good work anyway. Handed a picture to Ruld, you lemme know if the college can help. I will try to find the victim on the video feed and get a good angle for identification.”
The wolf nodded.
“Oh. The local precinct's big boss sent me a message. Did you get one too?”
“No. What is it? Did she find anything else?”
Muldoon shook his head.
“They lost some enforcers last night. And this Varro is still on the loose. They are scouring the northern part of the borough. So she asked Ruld and me to be on standby. For now, we are doing this with you, but she might pull the plug on us soon.”
Morty slumped for a second.
Breath in, breath out.
Might be them, might not be them.
Either way, you can't change anything.
Just be fast here and not let another predator run free.
Focus, don't panic.
You'll find out.
Do your job!
“Ok. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be as fast as I can. If the college starts to take too long, pick the big guy, and you two ride there to put pressure in person.”
“Sure.”
As he made his way to the back office, he picked up his terminal.
He sent a message, [Update me when you can], to both Juno and Léo.
=================================
The black and white footage rolled.
There he was, a young adult husky, tall, thin, but with some muscles. Most of the volume was his fur. He came in talking to a couple of guys who looked to be all in the same range of just able to buy booze. They got in at 23:01, and Morty tracked their movement. Bought drinks. Danced on the floor. Husky made out with one of the guys while the other was talking to a group of girls. Later, one of them was dancing with him.
The other group had been there longer. The human and lynx had been the first to arrive, at 22:11, and got a table at the back, drinking beer and having snacks; they were clearly enjoying each other. The other two arrived separately at 23:20 and 23:32, with the horse being the last.
Both groups didn’t bump into each other for a while. But Morty watched closely as the friend who picked up the girl went to the dance floor, dancing next to the lynx and her husband without reaction.
There was a moment when the Husky date went to the bathroom and passed next to the table; the bison and horse were having a conversation, and again, neither had a reaction.
Then, the husky went to the bar area and ordered something. Morty saw the barman nod and start mixing a drink. At the other end of the bar, the horse arrived and raised his arm to order something. The horse looked around and saw the husky.
The horse’s head snapped sideways, eyes locking on him.
Morty murmured, “Recognition.”
The horse stiffened, said something the camera couldn’t catch.
The husky didn’t move. Just stared back, jaw tight, body still as a coiled spring. He raised his hands and shook his head in a no. The barman approached and handed the Husky his drinks.
Husky grabbed the glasses and started to walk away.
The horse tracked him with his head and went back to the table.
He talked to the other people with him. The lynx woman even got up to try to take a peek at the husky the horse was pointing at. The human and bison were saying something to the horse. Bison had a hand on the horse's shoulder, and the horse seemed to shake.
Hard to get more details. They were far from the camera.
Husky seemed agitated on the other side of the room, a different camera showing how his date was talking to him and looking worried.
Then it looked like a ripple.
Most heads turned to the place where the horse was. He stood up and shouted something, shoving his chait sideways. Egan appeared at the edge of the feed, moving fast.
Not fast enough to intercept the mustang.
Morty watched as the older horse darted across the club, shoving people away.
He managed to get to the table and land a punch on the husky. Moments later, the bison was there holding him. One breath later, Egan was also there. Pulling the other horse away from the husky.
“Those aren't strangers,” Morty said.
He rewinded and stopped a few times. Printing good angles for the husky and his friends.
Lírio had wandered back in and watched the footage with a drink in his hand.
“Not sure what to say. We sell the booze, sometimes people get frisky. Others get happy, and some get angry.” The club owner said. “That is the kid you guys found?”
“Everything points to it,” Morty let the video play.
The husky’s date bolted away, leaving him behind. His friend followed the canine to the front near to the entrance, where both waited close to Maribel
Morty’s tail thumped against his chair. “That was history. Ugly history.”
=================================
Now I’m a damned teen girl bestie in the middle of a bad romance, Muldoon thought unhappily, tapping his foot as he waited at the hall while Ruld was talking to the college admin.
He hoped this would move fast enough in case the precinct chief decided to pull the plug on them. That is what she had told him: “You guys are doing a good job, but with the crap hitting the fan last night, we might need you guys on the lookout for the moose.”
Muldoon didn’t like it at all. He felt bad, as if doing things halfway. He wasn’t one to see things not finished. And, for that matter, he wasn’t a coward. He knew Varro was a threat and should be dealt with. He just didn’t like to start one thing and then hop to a different one.
He sighed and opened his terminal.
[Hey, love. Work here is ok. But they are short on people. The shift might stretch a bit longer than I’d like.]
24 hour shifts were hard, but the 72 hours off that followed were great. And it’d sync with the weekend. So Clarice, his wife, wouldn't be working.
[Let’s camp this weekend. maybe hit the beach back in Murialta], he started to hum a little as he sent the second message.
Daydreaming was good. It helped to quench his growing impatience. He liked technical things and field work. But he was not doing anything now. No point in trying to get more info from staff; they were more than good at providing info.
He watched with a raised eyebrow as Bianca, the technician, passed by him and went to the bar area where she took a cup of coffee from the elk and struck up a conversation with the bat DJ. She was bored too. Maybe? In the messy morning, there was no point trying to swab the floors, or dusting for fingerprints.
The door next to him burst open.
“Hit,” Ruld said, a wide grin on his face. “The College Dean got scared by the badge, and he got me the names — we got a hit on all four.”
“That is good luck,” Muldon said, and then scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, maybe not for them.”
“Yes, but now we know where to go. The bison is Caleb Orsin, Athletics Dept., something called Kineology, whatever that is.”
“It is the study of stuff that influences movement and performance on anthros. You know, trying to find ways to improve general health and wellness outcomes.”
Ruld gave him a blank face. “How do you know that?”
“I wanted to be a personal trainer. Plus, as a non-pred I need to be able to work around the big fuckers like yourself.”
“Shut up.”
“You said you had more names,” Muldoon commented, moving to have a look.
“Yes!” He cleared his throat. “Our prime suspect, the mustang, is Silas Murrow Duarte, head of field programs — listed as ‘coach’ on rosters. The lynx is Dr. Rina Kovács, adjunct in social psych. All faculty. The human with them is flagged as Evan Kovács, spouse — campus IT contractor. Addresses and staff photos just landed.”
“Nice. Do you want me to tell that to your boyfriend, or will you?”
If glares could kill, Muldoon would have died.
They found Morty still in the back room, staring at the still frame of the husky being punched. He had printed a few more shots with the faces of the husky and his entourage and was about to scan and upload them to the precinct to see if people could dig some ID on them.
“Oh. Great. You even managed to make them spit out the address without us needing to get legal on their asses. Awesome, Ruld," said Morty.
“Admin will cough up keycard pings if we want to check on their offices.”
“Could be interesting, but that is low priority. No way the horse would have gone back to work after this whole mess. We need to hit his place. Perhaps he is still there, and we can toss him behind bars today.”
“Would he be that stupid?” asked Muldoon.
“People are not rational when angry,” Morty said, pointing to the monitors where the horse fist was making contact with the husky’s face.
Morty grabbed the sheet of paper with the names and address that Ruld handed him. Looking up the addresses and bringing them up on his mind. Trying to position them like markers on a map. "They were at a nightclub on a work day... Do we have any lead if the Kóvacs had any kids? Or if either of these, Silas and Cale,b were married, had families?"
“The Kovács are married, share a lease on Bishop Row, Unit 3C. No kids according to Aldeham logs. Duarte is listed as single; emergency contacts are a brother and a mother out in South Tramline. Caleb Orsin shows a separation notice from last year, address is Basalt Court condo — no spouse on file.”
“All three live southwest of here. Bishop Row is a 12-minute walk if you cut through Dirk’s, Orsin’s Basalt Court is a short drive, and Duarte’s is farther, ten by car with green lights.” He lifted his gaze.
“So, what is the word?” Muldoon asked.
“Do you guys mind disciplinary action?” asked Morty with a crooked grin.
“As long as I don’t get fired,” came the wolf’s reply
“We know that they were here. And we also know three of them bled in the place where the arm was cut. I really... really doubt that we will find anything at the school. Everything points to this Silas being our guy. I say we raid his home. Small chance of us getting him, or at least a clue of where he might be. But if you guys have a better suggestion, I am all ears."
Ruld nodded, already weighing entrances. “We can make Duarte’s place the primary. We’ve got enough for a search warrant — ID from Aldeham, assault on video, matching stamp, three co-witnesses, and the blood mix at the scene. Val files the affidavit; we hold a soft perimeter and go in clean when she greenlights. Goal: clothing with transfer, cutting tools, comms, and any med supplies he’d use after a fight.”
Muldoon thumbs his terminal. “I’ll spin up utilities and plates for Duarte, put those out there in case any of the guys from the city spot him in case he ran wheels. I’ll also throw a quiet BOLO to uniforms — no lights, just eyes. If he’s home, we do knock-and-talk until the paper lands; if not, we sweep the routes he’d use to dump clothes.”
Ruld glances back at the paused punch on the monitor. “We stay light but ready. If Duarte’s inside and hot, we don’t want a hallway brawl.”
"Ok, that answer. I’d suggest we just knock down the door. But let's do it by the book. We wait for the green light to knock down his door. Now, where's Bianca?”
Morty pressed a key, and the cameras flipped from recorded footage to live. They spotted her at the entrance booth, making out with Vee, the bat DJ.
Ruld’s brows climbed; Muldoon coughed into his fist. Morty scoffed, looking amused