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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

NED

The police academy instructed its trainees to access a situation quickly, and Ned did, just as his mind worked out what had happened. The raccoon was a decoy; that was clear. His purpose had been to distract law enforcement, which was ridiculous considering how many were there, but later it would be learned that his companion, the otter, worked as a dispatcher for the Sacramento Police Department, so he as able to get clearance anyway. Either way, he'd slipped right up to the little escort and, wordlessly, put two bullets into Johnson's chest.

Another gunshot rang out, and several women screamed. Ned crouched low again, forcing himself to breath normally. Access the situation. Locate the conflict. Everywhere people were running, the stench of panic floating like a mist, and loud voices shouted. Johnson was collapsing back against one of the policemen who'd been escorting him, limp and lifeless from what Ned could see. The otter had also fallen - one of the police had shot him too, apparently, which was risky considering the number of people around. A wolf was bending over the otter, strapping handcuffs on him, growling "Do not move!"

Dimly Ned became aware of Scarlett's heavy panting behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. The raccoon was down, laying on his stomach with his paws behind him as police swarmed over him. "He just gave up" Scarlett whispered, seemingly in shock. "As soon as the Senator got shot. He just threw his gun away and lay down."

"His job was merely to act as distraction" Ned murmured, his voice sounding horse and foreign. His heart was pounding, and he realised every fur stood on end, tail stiff, ears back not in anger, but in fear. Scarlett seemed no better; also taken back by the shock of the event, but she took Ned's paw when he offered it, and reluctantly they approached the - well, now it was a crime scene, after all.

Already someone had found a doctor, who was bending over the badger. "Give him space, give him space" one of the cops was repeating, but even with his limited knowledge of medical areas, Ned did not see much hope for the badger. Johnson's breath was weak; his eyes unfocused, and the blood was already pooled around his fallen form, mixing with the rainwater to drain away in little ripples along the concrete.

It was like watching a balloon deflate, being witness to the life ebbing out of the badger. He never spoke, just coughed blood one last time, before settling back onto the concrete, head rolling to the side. His entire body was limp.

A black paw - Arkady's - reached down and felt carefully at the Senator's neck for a pulse. Emotionlessly, he looked up, and shook his head. Dead.

One of the street cops was still talking to the dispatcher, relating that they now had one death as well as a wounded suspect. In the background, Ned's ears caught the voices of some of the other cops, urging the media cameras back, mixed with the clicking of cameras. "He h-had....to pay" a voice murmured weakly.

"Nolan!" Scarlett exclaimed, for it was none other than her boyfriend who had handcuffed the otter. It was the otter who had spoken, and like the raccoon, he wasn't fighting at all; in fact, he seemed almost oblivious to the cops, eyes focused on the dead Senator.

"Did you know one of the victims?" Ned inquired, inspired. The picture was forming in his mind - the otter and raccoon must have thought themselves doing a public service, which was, ironically, much the same as Johnson thought he was doing.

The otter shivered. "No....but...he was an evil man. He...deserved to die."

Nolan sighed. "That was not your choice to make. Now we've just lost a potential piece of the puzzle."

Plus, Ned thought. Johnson was a bigoted ass, no doubt, but a murderer...perhaps not. If his hunch was correct, an innocent man had just been murdered for a crime he didn't commit...not that Johnson hadn't been asking for it, with all his hate-mongering. Still...he glanced over at the crowd. Many of the spectators had fled when the gunshots rang out, but now curiosity had overcome many of them, and people were lining up along the red tape again, many of them holding up iPhones and Samsungs to take photos of the scene. For a brief moment, he wondered what sort of story Holly Vaughn would cook up over this - but she was dead.

Fortunately, all the officers seemed to be keeping their heads. Captain Williston was barking orders, telling the media and civilians to stay back - this included the Mayor, Senator McCracken, and Van Holling & his group - telling everyone to let the police do their work. The raccoon had already been escorted away to a patrol car, although he kept throwing glances back, evidentially concerned for his boyfriend. Ned almost felt sorry for him.

Nolan had left the otter and embraced Scarlett, whose tail was just now beginning to lose its bristling. "You alright, Ned?" the grey-furred wolf asked, eyes raising over Scarlett's shoulder.

"I'm cool" he gave the other wolf a short smile. Sure, he was shook up, but no more so than the night they'd met with the panthers - that reminded him, where was Garrett? Neither his coyote nor Olympia were prone to traveling without being armed with at least a knife, and being that they were both far more skilled with weapons than either the raccoon or otter were likely to be, he doubted they would have joined in the panic of the crowd. Scanning the gathering audience, he did not see the pair, but that did not mean they were not there; besides, the swarm of reporters and cameramen were blocking out much of the ordinary citizen crowd as it was. Either way, he could discuss the whole matter with them later.

The ambulance arrived presently, and in no time the otter, who'd remained quiet and detached despite his clearly painful gunshot wound, was carried away on a stretcher. Johnson was also removed, but the EMTs confirmed what SF Metro already knew - the badger was pounced dead at the scene. He too was carried away, but to a different ambulance, and then the red and white vehicles went speeding away, their sirens still wailing at such amplitude that Ned flattened his dripping ears against his head.

Slowly the crowd begin to fragment; the media cameras ceased their flashing. "We have no comments at this time" Lennox was telling the reporters. "SF Metro will offer a more detailed statement when the time becomes appropriate."

Not surprisingly, the reporters kept screaming for more information, but Lennox ignored them. The crowd ebbed; the police slowly begin to pile into their cruisers, and finally, Ned and the others too left. With their chief suspect dead, nothing could be accomplished at the courthouse.

"It's so fucking frustrating" Ned swore, jabbing his fork at the meal Olympia had made - a spicy Spanish dish made with rice and several varieties of seafood. She'd bought some expensive scallops and mussels and shrimp as celebration for the news that Yong Fo was apparently making an amazingly speedy recovery. "Everytime I think we're starting to get somewhere in this case, we get an upset like this. Now the media's crazier than ever - not every day a senator gets accused of conspiracy and murder, then gets murdered - and we've still got gay folks scared shitless that they're next."

Garrett and Olympia exchanged a glance. "I imagine you haven't found anything of interest with that Joey Rath?" the wolf asked. Garrett stood up to refill Ned's wine glass, and for just a moment, Ned started to open his muzzle to question that - but, fuck it. He needed a drink, something to get his mind off the case for another few hours.

"Nothing. With him being at work - with plenty of witnesses - during the same time the victims were murdered, there's little likelihood we can pin them on him. Still doesn't explain how he came to be dead in the Senator's car, or how he had the bomb detonator on him." He took a bit of the curry - yellowish from the turmeric, or whatever it was, scallop and shrimp and sausage. After a couple weeks around Garrett and Olympia, he'd never be able to stand fast food again, he thought, not with them eating fancy stuff all the time.

Garrett sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's just a nobody who was killed and planted there so you'd be looking in the wrong direction." He tapped a claw on the table. "That is....well, it's something we do from time to time. If you need to get the cops or a rival gang off your tail, you throw them a clue that sends them off on a completely different tangent." Which probably means killing someone innocent, Ned thought depressingly, but this was not the time to think about Garrett's flaws.

"If you go with what Ringo thought...that the Prophet is himself involved with your department" Olympia mused, "then it is possible he might have had access to DMV records and could have picked Rath as a distraction purely because he owned a Prius."

It all made sense, but Ned did not like thinking that Joey Rath was a dead end; that would mean SF Metro had to continue on with nothing. And what a depressing thought that was. He sighed. Olympia was burning some kind of scented candle, the sort strong-scented people sometimes burned in their houses if they were concerned about offending guests, although in this case Ned suspected it had more to do with Olympia's affinity for new-age "inner peace" type ideals. "You are both probably right, but I still think there's something we're not seeing, so far as Joey Rath is concerned. We just have to find it."

Olympia had started clearing plates and pans from the table, and Garrett rose to assist her. "Generally the answer to these kinds of mysteries is right under our noses" the coyote observed, taking away the empty wine bottle. His ears lowered. "No chance that otter was involved with the killings? Killed Johnson to keep him quiet?"

Ned shook his head, pushing his chair back up against the table.. "No, both the perps today were just ordinary college students. They'd absorbed all the hysteria placing the blame on Johnson, so they killed him out of thinking they were saving other gay people's lives in the process. Confessed everything freely."

"But you still think Johnson was innocent...."

That reminded him, and he flicked his ears to show the affirmative. "I didn't tell you about the witness, did I?"

Both of them paused, Garrett from dishwashing; Olympia from containing leftovers, ears perked his way. "No" Garrett said. "Did he clear Johnson?"

"She. And no, not yet, but she can." He leaned against the refrigerator. Remembering what Nolan had explained that afternoon just made him shake his head at Johnson's hypocrisy. "Turns out Johnson DID have an alibi for his whereabouts when he wasn't at the hotel. He just didn't want to expose himself."

Garrett's ears went up. "Oh God, are you telling me he was one of those homophobic imbeciles who's actually gay himself? A secret boyfriend?"

Ned almost grinned. "That would have been a shocking revelation, but no. Not _that_scandalous."

Olympia's fox-like senses guessed the correct answer instantly. "A mistress."

Ned nodded. "Lisa Persimmon, a young badger he he's apparently been carrying on with for some time now. About half his age and - well, half his body size, too."

"That is scandalous" Garrett grinned, long coyote muzzle open just a little. "You know, divorce and adultery are only a few of the many 'sins' the man raged against."

Olympia was more to the point. "Will this Lisa testify in her former lover's behalf?"

"I think so" Ned shrugged. "Either way, he now has a perfect excuse. Only way he could have been involved was if someone else was doing the killings on his behalf."

Garrett scrubbed at a plate, expression thoughtful. "The mistress couldn't have?"

Ned moved so Olympia could put the leftovers in the refrigerator. "No, she's from Pennsylvania. Just travels around, following Johnson, so they could keep up their illicit encounters."

"I don't know what she saw in him" the coyote muttered, and Ned had to agree. From his teen years he'd had to regard straight sex in something of a strange confusion, waiting for himself to feel that obsession which all the other young males did, but which never came, so he was left wondering what all the excitement was about. Until he'd been with another boy, and come to the conclusion that while girls might be pretty to look, it was boys that stirred in him the emotion or lust that for other guys, only girls could invoke.

"Money, or power" was Olympia's suggestion, and she was probably right. Either that or Lisa Persimmon was a TMF member who saw Johnson as an idol, and was willing to set aside her scruples about adultery to be with him.

Dishes done, the trio wandered into the movie room, as Garrett had suggested that perhaps the best thing for Ned to do was lose himself in someone else's story, putting the case up on a shelf for the night. Of course though, he and Olympia picked a crime drama, starring a fox detective who looked remarkably like a shorter version of Arkady, so the movie only had so much value as a distraction. Still though, it was nice to relax into the comfy chair, Garrett's arm over his shoulder, so he only needed to turn his head to bury his nose in the comforting coyote scent, feeling Garrett's trapped tail wriggling between them whenever he felt particularly inspired by a scene.

It was halfway through the movie, when they'd paused it so that Garrett could pop some corn, that Olympia turned her strange dark eyes toward him and remarked. "On your search for this killer, I have only one remaining offering of advice."

Ned inclined his muzzle towards her, no longer hesitant to take advice from a crime lord. "And that is?"

"The only way to catch this killer may be to beat him at his own game?"

He was incredulous. "Start murdering someone?"

"I did not mean that" the white wolf corrected him. "Think on that; sleep on it. And the answer will come."

After that Garrett returned with three bowls of popcorn and the movie resumed, but Ned's mind had wandered, even when the fox detective was killed off rather randomly about two-thirds though the movie. Beat him at his own game. Olympia's words reminded him somewhat of the story Montoya's girlfriend had told at Salty Sebastian's. "If you cannot find a crocodile, you must make him come to you," Sofia had said.

Perhaps it was time to set a trap.