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09:35 - Interrogation Room #4 Precinct One - Arthur (Adolph) Dingo

"One pair of brass knuckles, two .45 pistols, one .22 pistol with ankle holster, three single shot derringers, two spring loaded wrist-mounted hide-away bayonets, one .45 machine pistol, four grenades: two fragmentation, one flash-bang, one smoke; one machete, one miniature blow-gun, one blackjack, one short-handled mace, two cans of pepper spray, one 12 gauge sawed-off shotgun, one pair of nunchucks, one bowie knife, one kodachi..." Judy looked up from the clipboard with its inventory list. "What the heck is a kodachi?"

"A Japanese short sword, often carried by samurai warriors like Usagi Yojimbo." Her partner offered.

"I thought he was a comic book character."

"He is... I use to collect the comics when I was a kid. That's how I know what a kodachi is."

"Oh," the bunny replied returning to her list. "Four morning stars, three poison darts, two switch blade knives, and..."

"A partridge in a pear tree?" Nick interrupted, a grin on his face.

Judy paused long enough to punch him lightly in the arm. "And one sling shot."

"That's quite an armory. Looks like the Dingo brothers are looking at six to eight years on weapons charges alone."

"Oh, that wasn't what they were carrying," the bunny replied. "That's just what HE was carrying."

Nick watched the video-feed taken through the two-way mirror, starring intently at the angry face of Arthur Dingo. The mammal had a bandage around his head that covered most of his curly tan head fur and was paw cuffed to his chair. He was currently being grilled by Fangmeyer, one of their more intimidating officers, but throughout the interrogation he had remained stoically silent, aside from making insulting faces at the tiger whenever her back was turned.

"Delgado said it took them half-an-hour to pat him down. Even then, he still managed to smuggle a mouth harp into his cell."

"With all that hardware, he must have put up one hell of a fight," the fox observed.

Judy shook her head. "He was their lookout mammal. The first unit to roll in found him in the alley leading into the docking bay, out cold."

"So he has nothing to tell us about the fight."

"Nope."

Chief Bogo, who was glaring at the criminal reached down and punched the intercom button on his chair. "Next!"

09:42 - Interrogation Room #1 Precinct One - Leonard Dingo

Leonard Dingo glared at Grizzoli. He looked almost like a twin of his brother except his head fur was dark and curly. The bandage encircling his head was also wrapped in the opposite direction. "I's said it before and I's a sayin' it again, I's ain't gonna tell youse nothin' copper."

"Oh, I don't know about that," the polar bear grinned. "I think I'll get you saying whatever I want before lunch."

The dingo shook his head gently. "No! I's a not sayin' nothin'

"You mean you're not saying anything, don't you?"

"No, I's not sayin nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Anything?"

"Nothin!"

"Nothing?"

"Anythin!"

"Nothing?"

"Anythin!"

"Nothing?"

"I's told you, I's not sayin' anythin' and there's no way youse can make me say anythin!"

Grizzoli smiled. "Well, it looks like I did make you do something?"

"Yeah... What's a that?"

"I made you stop using double negatives."

"Next!" muttered Bogo. The video feed switched.

09:46 - Interrogation Room #3 Precinct One - Julius Dingo

"So what happened then?" Fangmeyer asked.

"Well, after that my brothers and I hooked up with this Arctic Wolf. We got a pretty chilly reception but I never dreamed we'd wind up in the cooler."

"So he hired you to hijack the truck?"

"Yes, we low-balled the price and boy did we regret that drive back to Zootopia."

"Why is that?"

"The truck only had an eight track tape player and a dozen tapes of 1930's jazz. We were trucking all the way home."

"What can you say about last night?

"I could say a lot, but a gentle-mammal never talks about his more intimate relationships."

"No, I mean last night at the warehouse.

"Warehouse?"

"Yes, warehouse."

"There house," the dingo said adjusting his glasses. "There table. There police-mammal. Tell me something, did you ever cop a plea? Or is it flea a cop. I can never remember. By the way are you a dentist? I like the way you drill your suspects."

"NEXT!" Bogo turned and glared at Wilde who decided to remain unusually quiet.

09:50 - Interrogation Room #2 Precinct One - Milton Dingo

"You want me to tell you what happened last night?"

"That's the general idea," Delgado replied.

"Are you sure... Do you really want to know?"

"That's why I'm asking."

"Well, you shouldn't be. If you cared for your family and friends you should just move out of Zootopia before he gets you too."

"Why?"

"That thing... that horrid thing. It came for us last night. It blacked out the whole warehouse so no one could see it coming, but you could still hear the flapping of its wings."

"Wings?"

"Yeah, man... wings. Giant leathery wings that flapped in the dark. You knew when it was coming for you because you could hear it. Flap! Flap! Flap! Just like that like something bigger than you. Like giant bat wings."

"Giant bat wings... uh huh", muttered the lion. "What kind of bat wings? Fruit bat or vampire bat."

"I don't know... I can't tell one sound from another in the dark. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was a giant vampire fruit bat, you know, like the kind that sticks its fangs into fruit and drains all the juice from them. I saw one once on a kid's TV show. They tried to make it cute and yellow and pink, but it was evil. The kind that goes after mammals when it runs out of juice and drinks their blood. That's what it was. A bat, man! A giant hideous bat."

"Alright, you remember the lights going out. Then what?"

"I don't remember. Something lowered the boom on my head and the next thing I knew I was in your medical jail ward."

"And that's all you can remember."

"Well... there is one other thing, but it's not important."

"Why don't you let us decide if it's important or not. What do you remember?"

"Today's my birthday."

"Next!"

09:55 - Interrogation Room #5 Precinct One - Herbert Dingo.

"It was all over the place and every time you heard that sound someone else would go down."

"What kind of sound?" asked Trunkabee.

"I don't know, it wasn't your normal crash, or bang, or thump. It was unique, a sound all its own." Herbert looked up at the large elephant. "Do you know that sound that's made when a heavy mallet smashes into a watermelon?"

"Yes, I know it."

"That wasn't it either. It kind of sounded musical, like someone beating on a base fiddle with a rock. You know, like a ka-rack, or a ka-thong. No! No! Not ka-thong... KABONG! A big fat Kabong! That's it. KABONG!"

"Kabong?" asked Trunkabee.

"Yes... Kabong. It just kept repeating itself, over and over. "¡Olé! Kabong! and Julius went down. Then again, "¡Olé! Kabong and the boss went down. Then Kabong, Kabong, Kabong and that moose went down, followed by the reindeer and then Leonard. It was just coming from everywhere. Kabong, Kabong, Kabong, Kabong. Everyone gone.

"Did you get hit?"

"Did I get hit? Listen lady... ever had a ton of peanuts fall on you?"

"No!"

"Well, this was just like that...except more Kabong and less Crunch. As I matter of fact, I can still hear it in my ears. Kabong, Kabong, Kabong. All morning long. If it don't quit when I go to bed I'll never get any sleep. Just Kabong, Kabong, Kabong, Kabong all the time."

"Did you tell the doctors your problem?"

"Yeah, but they were only interested in knowing if I had a split skull or a concussion. As a matter of fact, they seemed kinda disappointed that my injuries weren't more serious. One thing you've gotta admire. This Kabong guy knows his business. I mean it's gotta take some skill to bash people in the head with enough finesse to knock them out and not do any permanent damage."

"I wouldn't know," Trunkabee replied.

Chief Bogo shut off the monitor and began pacing the briefing room. "We're not getting anywhere with this," he muttered. "Nine suspects, and not one of them can give us a clue as to who this 'Kabong' character is."

"You mean the Axe Avenger, don't you chief?" asked Judy.

"I refuse to call him that. If we can't get him off the street through normal methods, maybe we can humiliate him enough that he'll give up." The buffalo turned and punched a button on the room's intercom. "Angela."

"Yes, Chief?"

"Make a note. All future references by this department to the vigilante known as the Axe Avenger will identify him as 'The Kabong.' No, on second thought strike that. He'll be called El Kabong."

"Yes, Chief. Oh, and by the way we received a call from the law firm of Howard, Fine and Howard. Their representatives are on their way over to consult with our suspects."

"Which ones?"

"All of them sir. The Dingo brothers apparently have them on retainer."

The cape buffalo huffed. "Alright, tell Clawhauser to hold them for fifteen minutes at the front desk before getting them an escort to the interrogation rooms."

"We still have one more suspect to interview," Nick pointed out.

"Who?"

"Weaselton, Duke Weaselton." Judy reported.

"Ah yes, the witness we found cowering under that sedan. You two know him, don't you?"

"Yes... Unfortunately," the bunny replied.

"Well, get down there and give him your personal attention. I'll delay the lawyers as long as I can. Just make sure he's Mirandized."

****

Duke Weaselton sat quietly on the bunk of the holding cell. At present he was its only occupant. Judging from the amount of light streaming in through the window he figured he'd been there for about eight hours. No phone calls, no interrogation, not even breakfast. He was beginning to think that they had completely forgotten about him, which was perfectly fine. It was something his lawyer could run with and use against the police when he was arraigned. He flopped backward on the thin mattress and closed his eyes. He was already tired from last night and a short nap couldn't hurt anything. It might even help him forget that he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. Less than a minute after he'd closed his eyes the cell door clanked open.

"Okay Wesselton... Time to wake up and answer some questions." Duke opened his eyes and found himself looking up into the face of a large rhino.

"About time, flatfoot. Don't you guys ever feed prisoners around here? And by the way, the name is Weaselton, not Wesselton. Duke Weaselton."

The police mammal chuckled. "You're not a prisoner, not yet anyway, unless you have something you'd like to confess to." He held out a small pair of paw cuffs. "You know the drill."

The weasel silently held out his arms while the ZPD officer cuffed his hands together in front of him then slipped a thin, leather leash through the cuffs to compensate for the size difference between them.

"Where are we going?" Duke asked.

"Interrogation room six."

The weasel made an immediate about face and headed in the opposite direction. "Room six is down this way, flatfoot." The rhino watched him for a moment, then followed silently, chagrinned that his 'guest' knew the jail layout better than he did.

Arriving at the interrogation room, Duke was quickly seated at a large wooden table with a booster seat provided for his convenience. The officer went outside for a moment, then returned, dropping a small paper plate with two plain donuts on it on the table. They were supplemented with a cup of hot, black coffee.

"What's this?" the weasel asked.

"Breakfast."

"What? No sprinkles?"

"Around here, you have to earn your sprinkles." He left, closing the door firmly behind him. Duke looked around the room, noticing the clock which read 10:01. To one side he spotted the obligatory two-way mirror as well as an old style water cooler. By 10:03 both donuts and about a third of the coffee were gone.

The door opened again and as the weasel watched a pair of long grey ears walked into the room; the ears being all he could see over the top of the table. They were accompanied by the head of a fox whom Weaselton immediately recognized. Two chairs were pulled over to the table along with a pair of booster seats and within moments Duke found himself confronting the last two mammals he would have wanted to talk to on the whole planet. He instinctively felt in his shirt pocket for his box of tooth picks before remembering that all his personal stuff had been confiscated when he was booked.

Smiling, the fox reached into his own pocked and tossed a box of peppermint flavored tooth picks on the table for him. Weaselton immediately reached into the box and popped one of the toothpicks into his mouth. However, when he tried to pocket the box, the bunny shook her head and indicated he leave it on the table between them.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't George and Gracie come to welcome me to their humble abode," Duke greeted sarcastically. "Word on the street was you got yourself shot, Wilde. How's that working out for you?"

"I got better," he replied, deadpan. "Thanks for asking."

"We've got some questions for you about the meeting you set up last night," said Judy. "But first we're going to read you your rights."

"Yeah, I knew it... Here comes the boring part"

"You might want to listen, Duke," Nick pointed out. "It's for your own good."

"My own good would be having a large, luxury apartment overlooking Gazelle's penthouse in City Center; complete with a 400 power telescope. But, I digress. Go ahead and hit me with the whole Miranda thingy, bunny buns, if that's what floats your boat."

Judy quickly read through Weaselton's rights, then had him sign a form indicating he understood those rights.

Duke dropped the pen on top of the form and pushed it towards the bunny cop. "Lawyer!" he said.

"Did you just say something?" she asked frowning.

"Lawyer!" he repeated.

Nick looked over a Judy. "I think he's saying he wants to exercise his right to speak with an attorney and have one available while we inquire about last night."

"Oh! Is that it?" the rabbit said sweetly. "WELL TOUGH! You aren't getting anything unless you start talking about last night."

"Then I ain't talking, Cutie."

"Don't call me cute," Judy growled threateningly.

"Oh, does the cute little, fluffy bunny not like it when I call her cute?"

"It is a little speciest, Duke," Nick admonished him gently. "You might want to dial it down a little."

"Is that so? You think I should listen to a shifty fox like you?"

Nick looked over at his partner. "He's got a bit of a mouth on him, don't you think?"

"If you want to step out for a cup of coffee, maybe I can do something about that mouth," Judy offered.

The fox shook his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary." He sighed and turned his attention back to Weaselton. "I'll be honest with you, buddy. We're just trying to make sure you don't get yourself permanently dead."

Duke huffed, puffing up his chest slightly. "You think those guys from last night can do anything to me? With all the weapons charges they're facing they'll be lucky if they're back on the streets inside of ten years. The courts tend not to like hijackers, you know"

"Doesn't it worry you that you'll be on the inside with them?" Judy asked.

"Says who?" the weasel snickered. "I wasn't packing anything, and I know for a fact that the only thing you've got on them is the illegal weapons. Their whole set up was a scam. If anything, I was the one scammed. Add to that, as a material witness my lawyer will have me out and on the street in less than 24 hours."

Judy angrily jumped on the table and opened her mouth to say something but was brought to an abrupt stop by Nick. "I think he's got us on that one, Carrots." The bunny looked at her partner and realized she couldn't count on him to back up any of her moves. Screeching in frustration, she hopped down off the table and kicked an empty wastebasket across the room.

"We done here, Wilde?" Duke asked.

The fox picked up the box of toothpicks off the table and handed it to the weasel. "I guess we're going to have to cut you loose, buddy. Put you back out on the streets without any kind of protection."

"That's right, copper. You... Wait! What? Protection? What protection?"

"Witness protection, of course."

"And why would I need witness protection?"

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"That gang the arctic wolf was running wasn't a total scam."

"What do you mean? I was there. The truck was completely empty. The wolf and moose were running a scam against each other. I was just in the middle."

"The truck was empty because they'd unloaded the whiskey and stashed it in the warehouse. You see, they'd already made a connection with a buyer and were going to sell their ill gained goods to him. You provided them an opportunity to make a little extra money and they decided to get greedy."

"And?"

The fox looked over at his partner. "He REALLY doesn't know."

The bunny had suddenly become all smiles. "Imagine that!" she said brightly. "This might turn out to be fun after all."

"Know what? KNOW what? KNOW WHAT, WHAT, WHAT?"

"The truck that was hijacked belonged to Mr. Big," Nick answered.

"As does the trucking company," Judy added.

"And the distillery that made the whiskey," the fox finished.

Duke's face went completely white as the news sank in.

"You use to work the streets, Slick. How would you describe this situation?"

"Well Carrots, I'd have said that poor Wesselton is well and truly F.U.B.A.R.!"

"That's Weaselton... Not Wesselton," Duke muttered weakly.

When the lawyer finally arrived about twenty minutes later, Nick was able to present to him not only a copy of a signed confession, but a preliminary plea agreement that would guarantee the weasel would be given immunity for his testimony; and that he'd be entered into a witness protection program based upon both a change of residency and promise to no longer engage in illegal activities. The integrity of this last, Nick had some doubts about, but that would be entirely up to Duke.

Sitting back in their work cubicle over a couple cups of coffee they reviewed the video tape and wrote out a list of ways they might improve their technique for others to use.

"Hey Slick!"

"Yes Carrots?"

"Next time we run an interrogation, can I be the bad cop?"