It's All In The Eyes
This is a short piece that was published in the Fur-Eh conbook for 2016. The theme was "Who killed the Con-Chair" Enjoy
This is a short piece that was published in the Fur-Eh conbook for 2016. The theme was "Who killed the Con-Chair" Enjoy
It's All In The Eyes
By Aaron Blackpaw
"Well, yep. He's dead alright."
Shattered glass sparkled across the floor, the sticky syrup cementing the equine mane to the ground, mixing with the blood and saliva drooling from the mouth of the unseeing horse. Each peal of thunder and flash of light piercing the tall windows caught the shards of glass, flashing the floor with hundreds of points of light as four pairs of sharp eyes searched over the scene of disarray.
"Well, no surprise, Sherlock!" the striped equine shot back at the wolf. The diminutive zebra was quite a sight at the moment. He had been the one to take his shoulder to the door...and both won and lost. His striped fur, shorts, and jersey was covered in the sticky syrup, horse blood, and shattered glass, his nose snorting at the smell of the lit cigar dangling limply from the wolf's maw. "I could have told you that when I fell on the dang thing. We all were looking for him all day. And this was the last place we were looking. Why are we paying you to tell us what we already know, idiot?"
Allen grunted, taking a long drag on the pungent cigar as piercing amber eyes played across the entirety of the room, from the locked window covered in raindrops to the skid mark where the zebra had landed and slid, knocking the body back and covering him in the mélange of blood and glass that covered the striped critter. Of course that meant that the important information what had happened were long gone. 'Idiot.' The wolf thought as he stalked cautiously throughout the room.
"You've gotta see something, Mr. Pinker." Carrie's voice grated at the wolf's ears, dropping them to his head as her bubblegum pop voice hit him like an icepick through the ear. Her reddish orange fur was pristine, perfectly coiffed and smelling of soap and shampoo as she stayed back, wrapped in the arms of her bullish boyfriend.
"We can all tell that he was bashed over the skull, gumshoe boy," Travis grunted, his beady eyes boring into the back of the wolf as he looked about. He held Carrie close, towering over her as she tried to burrow into his chest, avoiding having to see the battered body that stood as the centerpiece of the destroyed room.
"Yeah. I'm not blind," Rebutted the dark furred wolf. His eyes played over the scene before him. "But since the cops can't get out here since the bridge washed out, they wanted someone to look over this cluster. And who better than a private detective. Oh, and there is a lot more that happened here than just some simple bonk n' glue."
The wolf grinned as he pulled a small but powerful flashlight from his pocket. Flashing the potent blue-white beam across the red and brown coated floor, scuff marks matted the floor. Of course there were a bunch of hoof marks where Lanny had gone for a slide after taking the door, and the slide marks of the horse's hooves, but playing the light over the rest of the floor. Scratches dug deeply in the wood floor, too numerous for just a single person.
He played the flashlight over the walls, running the beam over the disarray of all of the photo frames hanging on the wall. Shattered glass and photo frames littered the base of the wall, the top row spidered where something had slammed into the glass. Passing further down the wall, white drywall stared back against the dark paint that covered the wall, three scratch marks flashing back where the horse had been pressed against the wall.
"We actually had a pretty good struggle here. You can follow the trail of Mr. Winston's body being bashed against the wall...or maybe his assailant losing the fight before they could get their hands around the bottle of syrup off the shelf and bash him once or twice."
As the wolf's light played over the horse's head, he moved closer, keeping his boots out of the blood and off of the scuff marks as he inspected the injuries to the horse's body. Of course the zebra's interaction with the body had left numerous other scratches and deformities across the body, but the deep furrows on the horse's shoulders and neck were still damp from running blood.
They had been made when his heart was still beating.
And not only were there scratch marks deep into Mr. Winston's hide, there were actually a few mussed portions of mane.
"I wonder..."
The wolf smiled darkly as he took a chance and pressed the side of a pen against the body's head finding three soft spots in the skull other than the actual depressed fracture that was the obvious cause of death.
"Well, well, well. I think we have a winner."
The wolf grinned as he fingered the Chief's Special and steel bracelets in his pocket. He wasn't really worried about his prey really able to do much to fight back against him. Of the three choices he had for his suspects, only one had claws able to actually hurt him - and they had long been polished and smoothed down to almost ceremonial nubs needed to be the socialite that the fox played at being.
"Well then, who is it?" The zebra stepped closer, crowding the wolf a bit as the other two followed his lead.
"Yeah! Who!" The bull bellowed, driving the wolf's ears down with its noise.
"You mean even with me walking you all through the scene with that light, none of you have figured it out?" He chuckled. "Hold your palms out, face up."
"But why?" The three protested.
"Do it." The wolf growled, amber eyes narrowing as his hackles raised and lips curled, the predatory nature at the base of his instincts coming to the fore, the three jumping at the growl before their hands flipped up. As the wolf looked over the fingers and claws of the three, he could see the material under two of the three.
Cold steel landed over the wrist of one, her surprised gasp catching both of the other two by surprise as the wolf pulled her paws behind her back, quickly clasping the cuffs around her wrists and pulling her against him, his foot and free arm setting up to control her movements.
"Both of you step outside, please." The wolf grinned as he puffed a happy breath of smoke. "We're done here. The Fox, with the Maple Leaf Syrup in the Kitchen." He chuckled at his poor joke.
"Wait! Carrie?" The wolf simply nodded as he felt the fox struggle against him.
"Knock it off. There were only four of you here. And you're the only one that would need a weapon and multiple hits whose hand was coated with drywall and paint. I bet we'll also find blood in your fur or nails when the police get here and have all their toys." The wolf shook the vixen as he looked at the bull's incredulous eyes.
"It was pretty simple. Multiple hits to the head meant that probably had limited upper body strength. If you had been the killer there would only have been one, maybe two chances to strike. Second, she was light enough to get on his back and be struck into the wall as he fought back and gouge the wall and his neck with her claws. Not very effective but enough to get poor Winston riled up. Then she finished him off and went...I'll guess she cleaned up afterwards before coming and helping search. As to why..." He shrugged. "I dunno."
All eyes fell to her as hers fell down to the ground.
Now how many of you can follow exactly how the cigar chomping wolf found his prey. Hope you enjoyed.