The Fire Triangle -- Part II, Oxidizer

The Fire Triangle: Book II - Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle

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Part Two:

Oxidizer

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Chapter 5—Unintended Consequences
(Cont'd...Part 4)

One Grand Central Place, Zoo York City, Sunday Morning.

"I've been watching too many stupid film noir movies; that's my problem." Nick huffed as he gazed up at the edifice before him.

He'd been expecting a crumbling brownstone, complete with dingy windows, cracked front steps and a rusty, wrought iron railing. Instead he found himself in front of a tall, neat, and rectangular Art-Deco building in 'wedding-cake' configuration, each block of floors stepped back from the one below.

Entering through the front door, he found that the interior of One Grand Central was also like nothing out of a Dashiell Hamster novel. There were no tired and stuttering lights, no worn carpet, or fading wallpaper; no surly, half asleep door-mammal. The lobby, in fact, wasn't even located at ground level; it was one floor up, via escalator.

Arriving at the top, Nick found himself in a long hallway trimmed in cinnamon-colored marble and topped with an arched, honeycomb ceiling. The lighting was both soft and cheerful.

So was the concierge behind the reception desk, a graying fallow deer doe who seemed to think that being helpful to any and all visitors was her mission in life.

"You know, you didn't have to come in through the front door, Mr. Wilde. We have direct access to Grand Central Terminal here. See me again on your way out and I'll direct you."

"I'll be sure to do that," the fox replied. She had addressed him by the wrong title, but since he hadn't yet shown his badge, it was a more than forgivable sin. Nor did he present it now, instead laying the business card Claudia had given him on the counter-top. "Anyway, here's who I'm here to see," he said, making sure to put on his best, poor-humble-red-fox demeanor; it was always most effective with animals of this sort. "I realize they're probably not in today, but I found myself with some extra time this morning, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and so..." He concluded the sentence with a shrug.

The deer-doe picked up the card, studied it for a second, and then returned it. "I don't know if Mr. Pennanti is in this morning; he's kind of hard to keep track of. But there ought to be someone on duty up there; like the slogan says, they never close. Nick was about to nod his thanks when she held out a hoof. "But can I see some ID first, please?"

As things turned out the concierge was spot on with her conjecture; the door to Suite 4216 was wide open. Stepping inside, Nick's first thought was that this place looked more like an upscale law firm than a detective agency; plush carpets, comfy chairs, and walnut paneling. The effect was negated only by the flurry of framed photographs, decorating the walls; vintage pictures, detailing the history of the Minkerton Detective Agency. Here was the founder, Alan Minkerton, together with Abraham Lincoon, there was the legendary James McPurrland, the detective who brought down The Lizzie McGuires. And over on the other side...what the heck? That photo looked more like it belonged on the wall of a Tombstoat saloon than a Zoo York City Detective agency. "Who's the cougar with the cowboy hat and the six-shooter?"