I, The Tribunal
A Poached Parody

By P.C. HATTER


CHAPTER 1


I shook the rain from my pelt and walked through the door. No German shepherd so much as whined. They just stared and moved out of my way. Duke Barrow was standing near the bedroom with ears down trying to steady the lioness. The expression on his face told me he was trying not to bark, or howl, or both. I strode over and put an arm around Deloris.
“Take it easy, cub,” I told her. I led her to the upholstered box and let her curl up inside.
“Kaiser.” Duke motioned toward the bedroom.
The realization hit me that this was not a nightmare. Through that portal was the best friend a tiger could ever have, lying dead. Jeremy Wilkins, the lion I fought side by side through the mud and slime of Pacific jungle islands during two years of war, was gone. The guy lost his arm keeping an Amamin rabbit from spearing my liver. The bastards were little but vicious. Instead of me, the bayonet caught Jeremy’s bicep. When the infection set in, they amputated his arm.
In the bedroom Jeremy’s body was covered with a sheet, and I pulled it away to see his face. Duke didn’t object as I brushed the strands of his mane away from his face. I never cry, but I wanted to. “How?”
“In the stomach with a .45. Don’t look. They used a dumdum.”
I ripped off the sheet, and a roar caught in my throat. Jeremy was in his boxers, his one hand over his belly. A useless action, considering the fist size hole in his back where the bullet came out. I let the sheet drop from my claws and studied the scene. Nothing complicated. Jeremy’s artificial arm lay on the bedside table. The blood trail led from it to the twisted, blood soaked rug. He was crawling trying to get to something, but what? His .38 was still in its holster slung across a chair.
“Who moved the chair, Duke? It should be near the bed.”
“None of my guys. Why?”
“Bastard. This guy didn’t just kill Jeremy, he taunted him.” In my mind the scene unfolded as I talked. “He shot Jeremy, but that wasn’t enough. He watched him die, keeping out of claws reach, and making sure Jeremy’s gun was just far enough away to make him crawl. He kept moving the chair.” A few other words escaped my lips, but none too pretty.
“You in?” asked Duke.
“What do you think?” I nearly roared in Duke’s face, and he didn’t even twitch an ear. “I want the bastard who did this. I’m going to make him pay, gut shot and all. No one has the right to—”
“Knock off the dramatics, Kaiser. Right at the moment, I’m debating on whether to lock your butt up for your own good or let you go wild. Not sure if picking up after your mess would be a good thing, but it might just be easier.”
A growl was my only answer.
Duke cracked a smile. “Play nice, and I’ll turn a blind eye to the takedown. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The buzzards from the coroner’s office had arrived. Not wanting to have Deloris see her fiancé hauled out in a basket, I sat down on the side of the box to block her view.
Four years ago, when Jeremy was still on the force, he saved Deloris from taking a swan dive off the Brooklyn Bridge. He took her home, cleaned her up, and got her off the nip. The war kept them from marrying sooner. When he came home minus an arm, Deloris stuck by him. It was difficult for a one-armed lion to get a job, but for them it was love conquers all, straight on till morning. Only problem was, sunset came early.
Duke put a hand on my shoulder. “There’s a car outside to take her home.”
I stood and helped her out of the box. “Come on, cub. Let’s get you out of here.”
She didn’t say a word as I handed her over to one of the other cops. Once she was gone, I turned to Duke. “Where do we start?”
“You knew him best. Perhaps together we can fill in the puzzle pieces.”
“Jeremy was working for an insurance company. Everybody liked him.”
“He threw a party last night.”
“Yes, just a few friends from before the war. I was working and couldn’t make it.”
“Deloris mentioned that. The dogs are already checking on the others.”
“She find him?”
“Yes. Nearly screamed down the building. I managed get the story out of her when I got here. The party started around eight last night and broke up about one. Deloris was back here first light, last minute wedding arrangements. Estimated time of death is somewhere around three. Hopefully the coroner will be able to get a little more specific.”
“Someone would have heard something.”
“Nada. The perp must have used a silencer.” Duke held up a hand before I could ask another question. “Jeremy wasn’t the only one having a party, and unlike his, this one didn’t break up early.”
“And those here?”
Duke pulled a leaf from his notepad and handed it to me. “Deloris played hostess, drinks, dancing, nothing crazy. Everyone left together.”
Some names on the list were people I recognized, others were just a name. “And after?”
“Two of them had cars. Damien Styles dropped Deloris off before heading home. The dogs haven’t gotten back with me yet on the others.”
“Motive?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Even one-armed, who would have the balls to torment a lion?”
Cops aren’t stupid, but emotions can hinder logic. So, I can say I was a little slow on the uptake. That was the reason Duke pulled me in on the case. The department has their rules. Sometimes, those rules hinder an investigation. Jeremey didn’t mind, I did. That’s why I became a private detective instead of going back to the force. I write my own instructions.
Before we left the apartment, Duke stationed a patrolman on the door to make sure no one came by looking for souvenirs. We took the self-operated lift to the ground floor. I left him to deal with the reporters milling outside and climbed into my old crate of a car and headed to the office.