Underbox: Three
© 2021 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  Capt. Horatio Hortense Bezoar


“Good thing I don’t bet with you,” Joachim grumbled when Hamo returned to the office. Around their two desks, the rest of the bureau’s detectives went about their business. At the fox’s dipped ear and questioning look the boar said, “That guy was a weasel, and not a marten.”

“Hah! Thought so,” Hamo said as they sipped their coffee. “So, he was a weasel,” they said as they sat down. “Must’ve cost a lot in fur dye. Do we have anything on the idents?”

“They were corrupted, if you can believe it, but the smart boys and girls downstairs managed to sort them out.” Joachim looked at his computer screen and read aloud, “Paul Lobel, thirty-five years old, lives in New Berlin, Tempelhof Sector – “

“Bit off the beaten path for him.”

“Hmm, ja. Accountant with the Finance Ministry; wife, two kids.” The boar shrugged. “Everyone needs a holiday, I suppose.” He tapped the screen with a fingertip. “He had no drugs in his system . . . fur dyes, of course . . . he had an SSE Type J9a cyberway implant,” and he glanced past the screen at Hamo. “That doesn’t sound right, does it?”

“Hmm.” Hamo thought for a moment, then ran the fingers of one paw over their computer’s keys and studied the results of the search. “J9a, right? Those things start at ten thousand euro.” They paused and looked at Joachim. “An accountant might afford something like that, but we’ll have to talk with the Ministry to determine if he’d been embezzling. What about the prostitute?”

“Karl Gerstein, wolf, twenty-three. Lived alone at Ub4 Sector 10a-2,” and the boar brushed a tusk with the pad of a thumb. That sector was known for lower rents and a correspondingly lower standard of living. “He was registered as a prostitute, with health certificate up to date.” Not all of the sex workers plied their trade in the nationwide brothel network, and the only thing that the law demanded was that the prostitutes maintain a clean bill of health.

Hamo gave a slight smile. “Good service at reasonable rates, I imagine,” they said, causing Joachim to grin. “No drugs in Lobel’s system; what about Gerstein?”

“Bliss.” The cross-fox frowned. Bliss was an aphrodisiac that increased sexual drive and response while avoiding some of the side effects of amphetamine usage such as erectile dysfunction. It was fairly cheap and only slightly left of legal, and the drug was used at jack parties and various other activities in some of the more risqué parts of the Underbox. It could either be injected or inhaled; the effects were milder if inhaled. “I think we should pay a visit to Frau Lobel, and let her know that Herr Lobel won’t be coming home.”


***

It was a scene that Hamo knew from memory; the detectives and police chaplain, here, the bereaved wife and children, there. Surprise, shock, horror.

Tears.

The chaplain offering some words of comfort and solace as Hamo and Joachim stood silently, waiting their turn to probe the still-fresh wound with pointed questions.

The cross-fox had to wonder at times exactly when it had become just another part of the job.

Finally, with the chaplain sitting with the two children, it was Hamo and Joachim’s turn.

“Frau Lobel, can you tell us why he would – “

“He no longer loved me,” the weasel femme said matter-of-factly. “We were arranging a divorce. Where was he found?”

Hamo glanced at Joachim and nodded, and the boar said, “He was found with a prostitute, Ma’am. Also dead.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. “I can’t even be angry at her – it was a her, was it not?” Hamo shook their head, and the weasel femme sighed. “I had no idea,” she admitted, and looked up at the two detectives. “How did he die?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out, Ma’am,” Hamo replied. “Do you know if he had any health issues?”

She shook her head. “He was in good condition, despite his job. He would come home grumbling about things at work.”

“At the Finance Ministry.”

“Yes.”

Hamo thought for a moment. “Herr Lobel had a cyberway implant in his paw. Do you know why he’d have that?”

She blinked. “No, I have no idea. He always used a jackglove. It might be something the Ministry gave him.” She took a breath. “When – when can I see him? I – I have to make arrangements.”

Joachim replied, “As soon as the cause is identified, Ma’am, we’ll release him to whoever you designate.”

Frau Lobel nodded. “Thank you, both of you.”


***


“It never gets easier,” the boar remarked as their autojitney sped down the vehicle-only streets connecting the various parts of New Berlin. Stands of trees and parks filled the intervening spaces, covering the road in shadows as the sun sank toward the horizon.

“No, it doesn’t,” Hamo agreed, “but somehow you get used to it.”

Joachim nodded. “Check with the Finance Ministry tomorrow? It’s getting a little late in the day, and hopefully we’ll have Gerstein’s next of kin.” The surname had been an alias.

The cross-fox nodded and reached into a pocket of their coat as their phone rang. “Suleymanoglu, yes? Right. Thank you.” They switched off the phone and said, “That was the coroner’s secretary. They say that they won’t have the cause of death on either of them until tomorrow afternoon.”

“So,” Joachim said. “We write up our notes and go home?” Hamo hesitated before nodding. “What are you doing for Margot’s birthday?”

“Eh? Oh. I’ve got that day off, so Karin and I are going to take her to the Zoo and to one of the amusement centers to go swimming,” and the cross-fox smiled and dropped their voice an octave, intoning, “There will be cake” before chuckling as the boar laughed.

“Three years old? There had better be cake,” Joachim said.


***


Karin Suleymanoglu’s ears perked as she heard the door to the flat open up. Without looking up from the court filing on her computer the red fox vixen called out, “Is that you, Hamo?”

“Yes, it’s me.” She heard the door close, cloth rustling as her husband hung up their overcoat, and the happy squeal of their daughter as Margot came toddling out of her room. “Hello!” she heard them say, and smiled when they came into the room with a vixen kit in their arms. The kit’s dark fur was glossy and well-brushed. Hamo kissed Margot, who giggled, and leaned down to kiss Karin on the cheek. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Karin returned the kiss and kissed Margot, who said, “Mama!” and held out her arms to be hugged. Her mother obeyed and nuzzled the kit before asking, “How was work?”

Hamo gave a noncommittal shrug that immediately raised a red flag in the back of Karin’s mind. It was a signal that the red fox vixen recognized – no unpleasant talk in front of their daughter. Having a father who’d been born a woman and had given birth gave the cross-fox a unique outlook on parenting. Of course, being a police officer meant that they had a lot weighing on their mind at times. As a legal assistant, Karin knew about some of those things from the various court filings and other paperwork her employer sent her.

Asking her husband how their day went could wait.

Hamo got a quick shower while Karin made dinner, and all three sat down while Margot chattered happily about her friends. Her table manners were improving, and when Margot settled down to eat Hamo remarked, “Joachim and Patricia are expecting their first baby soon.”

“Really? Wonderful,” Karin said. “I’ll have to get a gift. Did he say if they know if it’s a girl or a boy?”

Her husband paused, a piece of fish dangling from their fork. “He didn’t mention it. I’ll ask him. How was your day, my love?”

Karin blew them a kiss and replied, “A little bit boring. Franz had me sit in on a status conference with him and his client. I had to mute the audio because this little one – “ And she leaned over and nuzzled Margot until the little vixen squealed “ – wanted to talk to me.”

Hamo chuckled as they drank from a glass of soda.

After clearing away leftovers and cleaning up, the rest of the evening was devoted to both parents playing with Margot. Finally Hamo read their daughter a bedtime story and tucked her in for the night before joining their wife in their bedroom.

The two foxes spent some time simply holding each other in the darkness before Karin murmured, “A new case?”

Hamo smiled and nuzzled her. “Yes.” They rolled over on their back before adding, “A murder.”

“I’d heard that something had happened down below.” She reached out a paw and turned their head to face her. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

A kiss. “As safe as I can be, Karin. You know, I’m forty-three. This is my forty-third murder case; it struck me as we were heading down to look things over.” They sighed. “I guess it put me in a mood.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you.”

“Thank you, love.” A sigh. “Maybe I should get out, while I can,” they said, half to themselves. They rolled to face Karin and smiled. “I don’t want to see Margot grow up without a father.”

Her smile matched theirs. “Can you do that? Retire, I mean.”

Hamo paused to think for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll ask tomorrow,” they said. “The only thing that might bother me,” they said, snuggling close to Karin and using their paws to make her giggle quietly, “is how far I am from affording the operation.”

Karin used her own paws, making her husband squirm and sigh. “Hamo, listen to me. I know you want a penis of your own – “

“For you, sweetheart.”

“ – But you’re just as much a tod even without one.” She kissed them tenderly on the lips. “Besides, we have a half-dozen in the bureau. Different sizes, too. What wife could ask for more from her man?”

The two of them tried to keep their laughter down before the sounds in the bedroom became more intimate in nature.





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