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"Let me get this straight," growled Bogo. "He told you to 'shoot the hostage?'"

"Yes, sir," replied Officer Briarpaw. "In Latin."

"And you actually LISTENED TO HIM?"

"It made sense at the time, sir. The suspect was getting agitated, back-up was still several minutes away and something needed to be done to distract him."

"I'm not sure the hostage will appreciate the subtleties of the situation when she regains consciousness. Most mammals don't enjoy their initial reaction to the tranq darts when they wake up."

"Perhaps not, sir. But the point of the distraction was so she would wake up. It's hard to do when you're dead. Besides, shooting her allowed El Kabong to disarm our robber without endangering anyone else."

"You are aware that he disarmed the robber by using what amounts to lethal force."

"Yes, sir. But he applied it in a non-lethal fashion."

Bogo scooped up a medical report from his desk. "According to this, it will take almost six months of therapy for our perp to regain full use of his hand."

"And that therapy can be easily obtained while he sits out his time in prison," Briarpaw calmly pointed out. "The rhino initiated the stand-off after he and his friends attempted to rob a jewelry store. My tranq gun couldn't have taken him down before he carried out his threat or blindly fired at some of the bystanders near-by. Add to that this robbery was part of a larger scheme intended to draw away the patrol units in Savanah Central, effectively leaving me the only officer present."

Bogo glared silently at Briarpaw, grunting slightly under his breath. The leopard was easily one of the more intelligent patrol officers in his department and as a consequence a lot harder to intimidate than most of the bullpen. He could, however be led, providing the chief was willing to shift tactics.

"Okay! Granted... you were in an unusually tough situation and you handled it as well as could be expected, but I don't like the fact that our vigilante provided both primary response and back-up to one of our own."

"To be honest neither do I, sir. The last thing the ZPD needs is to look weak."

Hearing that, Bogo almost smiled. At least Officer Briarpaw got it. The chief straightened up and his voice moderated slightly. "So... How fast was he?"

"Sir?"

"El Kabong. How fast was he on the draw?"

"I never even saw him reach for his gun. It was the quickest draw I ever saw."

An idea suddenly occurred to the chief. He walked over to his desk and hit an intercom button. Moments later Clawhauser responded.

"Yes, chief?"

"Get ahold of Hopps and Wilde. Tell them to bring up what they have so far in the Kabong case to my office. Also tell Deputy Sergeant Butler I'd like her input."

"Right away, chief." The intercom clicked off. Bogo then went to the door of his office. "Angela, what does my schedule look like this morning?"

"Aside from the 13:30 meeting you have with the police commission and your 15:45 with the Mayor-pro-tem you have a relatively clear day. You did however want to do a morning surprise inspection of the locker room."

The chief nodded in satisfaction. "Thank-you. Reschedule my locker room inspection for next week. I've got something I'd like to work on instead."

"Yes, sir."

Bogo went over to one of the walls of his office and punched a recessed button there. As Officer Briarpaw watched, a large promethean board was revealed. At the same time the windows looking into the office were obscured by a set of automated blinds. The chief then sat down at his computer and began typing in data.

"Alright, let's start with known quantities," the Cape buffalo said. He looked over at the patrol officer and frowned. "You can stand at ease... You're off the hook, for now."

"Yes, sir," the leopard replied relaxing slightly and turning to face the board.

"How would you rate our vigilante's sharp-shooter skill?" asked Bogo.

"Good enough to compete professionally," Briarpaw replied.

The chief quickly typed in some information. A small box opened up indicating 'professional level marks-mammal competitors.' He then asked the computer to provide pictures of the top ten professional marks-mammals in the Zootopia area. Ten individual pictures appeared with names underneath. None of them were equines.

"That's a dead end," Bogo muttered. A moment later there was a knock on his door. "Enter!" the chief called out.

Nick, Judy and Deputy Butler came into the slightly darkened room together. The fox looked around, his eyes almost shinning in the dim light. "If you're going more for a postmodern dungeon look, chief, you'll have to get rid of the comfy couch. It clashes with the Feng shui."

"Shut it, Wilde.... and the door. I don't want anyone else seeing this." He looked over at the red-furred officer. "Do you have a thumb drive copy of your evidence board?" Nick reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the requested item. Bogo took it and plugged it into his computer. A small window popped up on the promethean board containing a short list of files with different names. One was labeled El Kabong. Another was listed as the 10th Street Gang. A third was listed under the caption Contacts. Additionally there was a file marked Play Bunny. The Chief frowned and glared at it for a moment, then focused on the fox. "I hope you aren't using ZPD resources for this."

"Oops! Sorry, sir.... it's an old personal file I meant to delete a while ago. I salvaged that thumb drive from home, so no official resources were used."

"Good!" Bogo quickly highlighted the file, then punched a button on his computer. The file vanished. "Consider it deleted." The expression on Nick's face bordered on tragic. Moments later he winced as Judy punched him in the arm.

"What was that for?"

"Play Bunny? Really?" she responded. "It's bad enough my brothers have their own secret stash, but my partner?"

"It's an eclectic photo-art and literary magazine. There's a lot more to it than just... uh, female models."

"That's enough, Hopps," said the chief. "Let's focus on the evidence board." Moments later a complete schematic appeared on the large display. "Thanks to Officer Briarpaw, it occurred to me that our vigilante had to have obtained his weapons skills from an outside source. We tried looking through professional marks-mammal competitors without much luck."

"I don't think you'll find him listed on any pro-competition site," offered Deputy Butler.

"Why not? His skills with a pistol at least seem to point that way."

"Not just a pistol," Judy said. "He seems to be skilled with sword, bolos, shepherd's sling and martial arts as well."

"Not to mention Guitar-Fu," added Nick with a grin.

"I don't think that's a thing," replied Butler. "When you consider his current activities, it's doubtful our vigilante would be involved in anything that would draw attention to himself, so pro, or semi-pro level competition would be out, though it wouldn't hurt to check out amateur level clubs.

Officer Briarpaw looked at Bogo. "Should I be here, Chief? I'm not detailed to your task force."

"You are now," the cape buffalo said. "As is Deputy Sergeant Butler."

"Me?" asked the hinny.

Bogo nodded. "I could use someone to help supervise this investigation so I can get back to functioning more as Department Chief, provided the additional duties won't interfere with your work as our Sheriff's Liaison."

"Actually, it would be a nice change of pace," the deputy replied. "I haven't been doing much more than a daily hot sheet between departments for the last few months."

"Excellent," Bogo replied almost smiling. He looked over at the fox. "Wilde... Take over the keyboard for me. I like to pace when I think." Nick hopped into the chief's chair, standing upright so he could reach the computer. His fingers began flying across the keyboard even as a number of ideas jumped from one officer to the next."

"Don't forget to put in a box for languages," said Briarpaw.

"Is that important?" asked Judy.

"We know he definitely speaks Latin as well as Zootopian," Bogo said. Wilde dutifully entered the data.

"That last probably speaks to more than just language skills," Butler observed. Not many of the schools around here offer Latin as part of their curriculum. It's more of an upscale kind of thing."

"You saying he comes from a wealthy family?" Bogo asked.

"Either wealthy or scholarly," the deputy replied.

Nick entered a search for schools offering Latin. A list of three high schools, one academy, one preparatory school and two local colleges popped up. The fox isolated this in a separate box and sent it to the Promethean board with a green tag indicating it as something to be checked. The same was done for a group of sharp-shooter, martial arts and fencing clubs.

"There's something else we have to consider," Bogo said. "Last night's jewelry story heists in Savannah Central were coordinated so as to stretch ZPD resources to the breaking point."

"Isn't robbery already investigating that angle?" asked Judy.

"Yes. I'm more interested in just how it drew in El Kabong. What the hell did he know about it and how did he find out in advance?" asked the chief.

"You think he knew about it in advance?" Nick asked.

"He must have," Briarpaw said. "He came equipped with a wheel boot which he used to keep the getaway vehicle from getting away. I don't think he would carry something like that around as part of his standard equipment."

"He also focused on the main robbery instead of the two smaller smash and grabs that were used as a distraction," Nick offered. "There's more here than just a random night patrol would have uncovered.

"I can think of three possibilities here, offered Butler. "One, he has contacts on the street who told him what was going down. Two, he has an informant within that gang. Three, he somehow hacked them electronically or has a friend who did it for him."

"Four... he's a member of the gang," said Nick.

"How could he have been a member?" Judy asked. "Everyone knows El Kabong is an equine. What gang would take the risk of including one as a member?"

"Perhaps he disguises himself somehow," Bogo suggested.

"Maybe he's a she?" Butler said. The room went silent for several moments.

"No... I don't think so. The voice in my house was definitely male, though now that I think about it, it did sound young."

"Early to mid-twenties?" asked Briarpaw. The chief nodded. "That was my impression too. I wish we had a recording for voice analysis to look at.

"No such luck," Judy replied. The only time he might have been recorded was when he used Nick's phone to call in assistance for us during the alley assault a couple weeks ago."

"Didn't dispatch record it?"

The bunny shook her head. "He dialed Clawhauser directly on his personal cell number and didn't give him any time to hit record."

"Interesting," observed Butler. "He must have known that Ben worked both the desk and dispatch so he could get back-up for you two without risking a trace by calling the normal dispatch number."

"Which means he somehow knows at least some of the inner workings of Precinct One," said Bogo.

"He could have a friend inside city center who's helping him," observed Nick.

"I know my officers," the chief said. "There's not a one I wouldn't trust... Including you Wilde."

"Why thank you, Chief. Your trust in me is awe inspiring," the fox replied sardonically. "I have a hunch though whoever we're looking for doesn't realize they're giving up information for our friend El Kabong."

"How so?" asked Briarpaw.

Nick smiled. "It's a lot like digging out info on the street. Approaching mammals as a friend garners more and better Intel than any kind of adversarial relationship. It's who you know that counts out there as well as who's your friend."

"I suppose this is where you remind us that you know everyone," Bogo replied tiredly.

"My compliment's chief... you are indeed the master of the obvious," the fox replied with a smile on his face.

"Hopps?" Bogo called. The bunny responded by lightly punching her partner in the arm.

"You might want to show a little more respect for authority," she chided him. "We're supposed to be working together on this."

"How about a little respect for the bruise on my arm?" Nick responded.

"So... we're looking for a 'police fan-boy?" asked Butler.

"Or possibly a fan-girl who's working with our vigilante," Judy added.

"One place we might look is the ZPCL. A collection of young, wanna-be cadets might provide us with a profile of the kind of person we're looking for," the fox suggested.

"I'd hate to think they were involved," muttered Bogo. "Those kids are some of the brightest, most enthusiastic supporters we have."

"All the more reason to check them out," replied Nick. "They don't necessarily have to be active participants in this. Young people are not difficult to manipulate, if you know how. They could be providing intelligence without even being aware of it." Wilde quickly entered another box onto the evidence board marking it for future reference.

"Okay then... between checking out various clubs, schools, martial arts facilities and the Police Cadet League we have enough work to keep us busy for at least a couple of days." The chief looked at the others. "Briarpaw... you check out the schools and membership in various Latin societies. Hopps... check out the various martial arts, fencing and sharpshooter's clubs. Wilde... you've got the cadets. With your skill set it should be a breeze for you to dig out any potential information on our masked stallion. Deputy Butler will coordinate between the three of you and get me a daily brief on what you find." Bogo looked at his watch then the hinny. "If you need me, I'll be in a meeting with the police commission. Just text me."

Nick quickly updated his thumb drive then left a copy of the evidence board on the chief's computer for later use, if needed. The meeting then broke up. As they were walking away from the office Judy couldn't help but notice the satisfied grin on her partner's muzzle as he examined his thumb drive.

"Let me guess... You recovered your Play Bunny pics from the chief's trash file without him noticing."

"There are just some things that are considered sacred, Carrots. Art is just one of them... Hey!"

Without warning Judy had reached up and snatched the drive out of the fox's fingers. She looked slyly at him as she tucked the device into the pocket of her shirt. Nick eased back into his trademark smile. "Quick bunny," he observed.

"Dumb fox," she replied.

"Maybe, maybe not... I already e-mailed a back-up copy to my laptop."