I, the Tribunal Read online

  I, THE TRIBUNAL

  Private Detective Kaiser Wrench is determined to catch and kill the person who shot his close friend dead.

  A beautiful, seductive tigress is one of the suspects. As he follows clues, the body count rises.

  I, The Tribunal

  A Poached Parody

  P.C. HATTER

  Also known as Stacy Bender

  Byrnas Books

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  I, the Tribunal

  Copyright © 2020 by Stacy Bender

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Cove Design by Elizabeth Mackey

  Art by Sara “Caribou” Miles

  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.

  CHAPTER 2

  When I reached the door to the office, I found it locked and had to pound on the door. The lock clicked and Velvet Black glared up at me with her hand still on the doorknob. “Who are you?”

  “What do you—I’m your boss, Kaiser Wrench, that’s who.”

  “Really? You haven’t been here in so long, I didn’t even recognize you.” She let go of the doorknob and sauntered back to her desk, leaving me to shut the door. For a lynx, Velvet had platinum legs and didn’t hide them. But for a secretary, she was distracting. She kept her golden pelt sleek, and the tight fitting dresses she wore showed more curves than the Pennsylvania Highway. Then there were those little ear tuffs of hers. They made you want to reach out and play with them. Don’t get me wrong. Velvet wasn’t an easy female. I’d seen her go up against a few punks and come away with their hides. She wasn’t a dame to risk losing a claw.

  Besides that, she had her own private eye’s badge and occasionally went out on a case. Velvet packed a .32 and knew how to use it.
Though where she hid it, was a mystery to god and everyone else. More than once I’ve been tempted to make a pass at her, but there’s something to be said about not hunting to close to home.

  Velvet picked up a pad and an envelope from her desk, sashayed into my office, and curled up on a chair. I sat down behind my desk, took off my hat, and put my feet up. Velvet tossed the packet she was holding into my lap.

  “That’s all the material I could find on the party goers from last night.”

  I sat up faster than if she had flung a hot coal at me. “You know? How? Duke called me at home.”

  Velvet gave me a smirk and twitched those tempting ears of hers. “You forget about my contacts. Eddie Chaplin, the squirrel down at the Chronicle, remembered you and Jeremey were friends. He called here looking for information and ended up giving me all the details. All I had to do was purr.” Velvet let out a rumbling hum that could turn any male to jelly.

  Before my striped butt slid out of the chair and onto the floor, she stopped and examined her painted claws. “Almost everyone from the party was listed in our files. Nothing fantastic. Eddie added a few things from the society pages. Seems Jeremey’s known them for years. I believe you’ve mentioned a few yourself.”

  I ripped open the package and spread everything on the desk. The photos caught my attention first. “These are?”

  Velvet uncurled from the chair only to drape herself over my shoulder.

  “Damien Styles is the Alaskan Malamute. He’s a med student from one of the universities upstate. Twenty-three. Not bad looking for a dog. Could be his markings. A bit edgy.” Her whiskers brushed my cheek as she reached over and flipped the sheets. Two elegant swans gazed lazily at the camera. “The Patterson twins, twenty-nine, neither of them married. Not for lack of trying. They’re trust fund cygnets and live off the dough from the company their cob left them.”

  “Yeah, I’ve met them. Nice looking, but while the lights are on, not sure if anyone’s home.”

  She pointed to a newspaper clipping of a rottweiler with a scar across his muzzle. Axel Dabrowski was a bootlegger back in the twenties. He’d since cleaned up his act, paid back taxes, and entered society. Amazing what a million in lettuce will do to buff a body’s history. Dabrowski may have conned high society, but not me. He still kept his nose in a few meat pies, just because. Besides, he had the money for the lawyers to spit polish his shoes when they got dirty.

  “Anything besides this clipping?” I asked.

  “You know more than me. Damien Styles is staying with him. They’re in Westchester, and about a mile away from Deloris.”

  “I remember now. Jeremy met Dabrowski through Styles, who knew Deloris. Not sure how the two males met, but for some strange reason, Dabrowski is flipping the bill for Styles’ college classes.”

  “Blackmail?”

  “No way. Styles would be fitted for cement shoes if he tried that.”

  Velvet pushed the clipping aside. Deloris’ picture along with a complete record lay in front of me. Jeremy had fallen hard, and he never asked her to turn in her dealer. I read through her medical records. Deloris Shaffer. Attempted suicide while under the influence of cat nip. Admitted to General Hospital by Detective Jeremy Wilkins March 16th, 1940. Released after treatment September of that same year.

  “Here’s one you’ll like, tiger.” Velvet purred and slid a photo out from under the stack. The picture showed the most gorgeous tigress I’d ever seen. My mouth was watering and toes curling just looking at her. In the photo, she was at the beach, wearing a pale bathing suit that contrasted her stripes perfectly, even in the black and white shot. Her long powerful legs weren’t the thin twigs Hollywood wanted but made every other male drop to their knees for. The muscles of her stomach could be seen under the bathing suit, but then, so could her breasts. Framed by wide shoulders, it was a wonder the suit was able to contain them. The tigress’ face was the clincher. I thought Velvet was a looker, but this dame was a goddess.

  “Who?”

  “Are you sure you want to find out? With the look you’re giving that picture you could have a ring through your nose and not even notice.” She nudged the picture from the clip holding the report. “Doctor Sylvia Gamal, she’s a successful Park Avenue psychiatrist whose clientele bleeds money.”

  I read the number and smiled. Sometimes this job made all the hard knocks worth it. Not that I would say anything to Velvet. There were days I wondered if she had her sights set on me. At no time was anything ever mentioned, but if I came into the office with lipstick on my collar, the office got colder than an artic storm.

  Gathering up the papers, I shoved them back into the envelope. Velvet slid off my shoulder and picked up her notepad. “Thoughts?”

  “Too many. Nothing makes a lick of sense.”

  “Motive?”

  “Nada. Jeremy was a standup guy who kept his nose clean. He was always willing to help a body out.”

  “Did he have anything someone wanted?”

  “Not that I knew. His place wasn’t searched. Or at least it didn’t look like it. Money was still in his wallet, so it wasn’t robbery. This killer was a sadist. Jeremy kept trying to reach his gun while holding onto his insides. And the killer watched him and dangled the gun just out of reach.”

  “Eww. Kaiser.”

  I kept my yap shut and growled at the wall. Somehow, I was going to get the guy who shot Jeremey. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gone after someone even the rats wanted nothing to do with. After the war, I was almost foaming at the mouth ready to rip the guts out of the dregs of society. The ones who used a loophole in the law to let a criminal wiggle free might escape justice, but not for long. Not while there were tigers like me to hunt them down and bring real justice. I might get dragged through the courts, and the lawyers might try to blacken my name, but in the end, they’d let me be. Duke keeps them off my back. Not only am I good press, but I’m always throwing the dogs in blue a bone.

  At some point, Velvet had gone out to get the afternoon papers and set them in front of me. The murder was splashed across the pages in large print.

  “Did you really say that?” Velvet pointed to the final paragraph of the article.

  The words swam in front of my eyes. I was so mad. It was like someone had opened up my skull and tore out the promise I’d made to Jeremy about gutting his killer. “Duke did this. He knew what I wanted to say but didn’t let me say it. I’ll pummel him for making a mockery of it.”

  Velvet grabbed my wrist before I could reach the phone. “Hold on, tiger. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but if he did, he saw a chance of throwing the killer into your claws. If the joker knows your hunting him, he might double back and make a run at you. As long as you keep your head, you could have him by the neck.”

  Her words had a calming effect on me, and I sat back in my chair. “Somehow, I think you’re only partially right. Duke said he’d let me have the final kill if I played nice. But he has his rules, and those rules don’t like how I work. Duke is going to have me tailed to keep me from making the kill.”

  “No, he’s not. Duke knows you’ll spot a tail faster than a backwoods hound attracts fleas.

  “I’ll bet you lunch against a wedding band there’s a flatfoot downstairs covering the exits to this place.

  Velvet glared daggers at me before asking. “Are you serious? Because if you are, I’ll take that bet.”

  “Deadly serious,” and emphasized my words with a growl. “Let’s take a look.”

  With a grin, Velvet grabbed her coat. I replace my battered felt back on my head and double checked the address to Sylvia Gamal’s office. Velvet practically glowed as we walked down the hall and into the lift. The chinchilla who worked the controls smiled at us as we stepped into the car. “Evening Mr. Wrench, Miss Black.”

  “Anything new?” I asked and poked him in the side.

  Chuck’s grin got bigger. “Haven’t sat down all day.”

  I returned the smile like a thief who just es
caped the noose. Little Miss Velvet Black just lost her bet. The banter between Chuck and me went way back. It meant someone was waiting for me. The chinchilla’s price was a fin a week, but he was worth every penny. Chuck had been a pickpocket and could spot a cop at thirty paces. A short stay behind bars had him rethinking his profession.

  Feeling perky, I decided to use the front entrance for a change. A quick glance around had me panicking and wondering if Chuck needed glasses. Velvet knew how to spot a tail as well, and she was looking like she’d been in the cream. I could almost feel her claws sinking into my fur.

  That smile vanished as soon as we were out the revolving doors, and I had to laugh. Our tail sauntered right past us. Velvet growled a few words nice females should never hear, let alone say.

  Our tail was smart. Shorter and faster than us, the Jack Russell bobbed along with a newspaper under his arm. Neither of us saw where he’d come from, but my guess was he’d hid behind one of the large potted plants in the lobby. Once he had a bead on what exit we were using, he shot out the side exit and ran around the corner. His partner was probably keeping tabs on the other side of the street ready to pick us up if we’d gone in the opposite direction.

  Problem was, the Jack Russell forgot to move his gun from his hip to a shoulder holster. Easy to spot if you know what you’re looking for. The dog disappeared near the garage and neither of us bothered to search for his partner. I pulled the car out, and Velvet slid into the passenger seat with ears drooping.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “The Automat, you owe me a lunch.”

  CHAPTER 3

  I dropped Velvet off at her groomers after lunch and headed to Westchester. Axel Dabrowski was no Sylvia Gamal, but a call to her office left me no options. The doctor was out, and her receptionist refused to give me her home address. I left a message saying I needed to see her ASAP and would call back. I couldn’t get that tigress or her powerful legs off my mind.