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Underbox: Seventeen
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
capt_hairball
Hamo’s eyes felt gritty as they sipped at their second cup of coffee and studied the informant through the interview room’s surveillance camera as a uniformed sergeant said, “Liesl Hübner, marten femme, twenty-four years old. Licensed prostitute with Brothel #47, college student.” The red fox glanced at the cross-fox, whose ears were swiveling at the sight of the young woman. She wore a leather dirndl and had fished a jackglove out of her bag. She had it on her right paw and her fingers were moving as she gazed fixedly at something only she could see. “She came in here demanding to talk to you.”
The transgender vulpine yawned again and drank more of their coffee as Joachim came walking up. “We’ll both talk to her. How long’s she been here?”
“Soon as she got here and told us what she wanted, I called Detective Schmidt,” the sergeant replied. “Maybe an hour or so.” Hamo grunted and the two detectives entered the room, closing the door behind them.
“About fucking time,” Hübner said as the two older furs entered. She had a nice voice, which made what she said a bit jarring to someone unused to it. “I’ve had to turn down two clients.”
“I apologize,” Hamo said as sincerely as they could as the two detectives sat facing her. “Thank you for coming in, Fräulein Hübner. I mean it. Now, can I get you anything before we start?”
“Another cup of coffee.”
“Fair enough. I could use another myself. Sugar, milk?”
“Black.” Hamo got up and left the room, and a few moments later a steaming cup of strong black coffee was placed in front of the marten. “Thanks.” She sipped, blew on it, sipped again. “You lot make good coffee.”
“We try,” Joachim remarked dryly slipping on his own jackglove and setting up the recording. “Now, would you like to tell us what you know? That way, you can get back to what you were doing.”
“What I’ll be doing is going home and getting some sleep,” the marten femme said. “I have classes in the – well, later this morning.”
“Classes? What are you studying?” Hamo asked.
“Art,” she replied. “I want to become a model.”
“I see. Well, good luck.” The cross-fox glanced at Joachim, who nodded. “I’m Detective Suleymanoglu, this is Detective Schmidt, Fräulein Hübner. Please tell us what happened.”
The marten said, “About midnight, I was at the brothel. I’m supposed to knock off work at midnight, but I decided to squeeze one more customer in, you know? So this guy comes in, and the first thing I see is he’s a bit odd.” She paused to get a sip of her coffee, and added, “He was acting a little strangely.”
“Strangely.”
Hübner nodded. “Feline, gray tabby fur, about two-three centimeters taller than me. He was wearing pants and a blue shirt, but what I thought was wrong was his mumbling.”
“Mumbling,” Joachim said.
“Uh-huh. He was talking like he was arguing to himself. Dingy-looking guy, too, but was wearing a cyberway.” She paused to drink more of her coffee while Joachim and Hamo exchanged glances.
“Could you make out what he was saying?” Hamo asked.
“A few words here and there, but he wasn’t speaking German.”
“Oh?”
“Sounded like English.”
“Ah. Go on, please.”
“Well, I thought it was funny that he’d be wearing a cyberway, you know? There are better brothels Upstairs he could go to.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I start sucking him, and he finally stops mumbling and starts getting into it. All he wanted was the blowjob, so when he’s finished, he starts talking to himself again.” She finished drinking her coffee. “I caught what he was saying this time.”
“Go on, please,” Hamo urged.
The marten femme frowned as she said, “He was speaking German, but it sounded funny, bad accent; he said something about ‘selling’ and something about ‘Underbox.’” She yawned and said, “Sorry. That’s all I know.”
“And you decided to come to us.”
“Well, word’s gotten around that you’re looking for a guy.”
Hamo nodded. “I’d like you to spend just a few more moments with a police artist, so we can bring this guy in for questioning. Then you can go home, but if you recall anything else, let us know, please?” She nodded. “Thank you, Fräulein. You’ve been a great help.“ Hamo and Joachim stood up.
“Hey!” They paused and Hübner said, “I heard that you promised a box of Bliss if you got any information.”
The boar glanced at the cross-fox, and Hamo said, “A promise is a promise. I’ll give it to you after you help the artist, okay?”
“Sure.” The pair left the interview room, passing a rabbit doe with a computer tablet who was headed for the room they’d just left.
“Mercenary, but that’s to be expected,” Joachim said. “So, what now?”
“Well, we start circulating the sketch, quietly, and we need to start spreading out through the Underbox,” Hamo replied. “If he’s looking to sell, he’d go to the areas with the largest numbers.”
The boar grimaced. “The clubs. Shopping arcades would be too well-lit and too open.”
“Right.”
“Time to talk to your friends again.”
“After I get her her reward.” Hamo chuckled. “No need to talk to them; I’ll just talk to Klaus. He might be short brains as well as height, but he can get word to Stranger and Feeler without us being too noticeable.” They grinned and winked at Joachim. “Pretty well hung, too, from what I recall from my night down there.”
“I didn’t need to know that,” Joachim said, rolling his eyes as the cross-fox started laughing.
***
“What are you doing here? Again?”
“Aw, Klaus, don’t be like that. Here.”
“This the guy we’re supposed to be looking for?”
“Ja.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure the bosses get it.”
“There is one other thing . . . “
***
Officers familiar with the Underbox were in plainclothes, with at least two of them posted in the major clubs and other businesses in the underground complex. All of them were connected, either through jackgloves or radio earphones.
Hamo and Joachim were at Attilas, comfortably ensconced in opposite corners of the establishment. Hamo was dressed in their latex dress but without the gas mask and wore their usual overcoat over the skirt and blouse. The boar was wearing jeans and a considerably distressed faux leather jacket that he’d worn in university and was two sizes too small for him.
The transgender fox smiled at recalling how the boar had grumbled while the other detectives laughed.
<Unit Twelve>, Hamo heard through the cyberbahn.
They saw Joachim’s avatar in the cyberbahn shake its head, and the fox reached out. <Twelve. No sign of him yet.>
Some time went by, a couple hours, with Stranger and Feeler having tipped off the staff to serve the two detectives only water. The various drug dealers who would circulate through the dance club weren’t told, and Hamo found themselves fending off offers of Bliss or stronger drugs. At least two young women and one young man were staying very close to Joachim, hoping that the boar would agree to them offering their bodies to him for a consideration.
The door to the club opened as Klaus let a few more furs in, and Joachim said, <Hamo. At the door.>
The cross-fox looked, and their ears perked. <Think that could be our boy?>
<Description matches - >
<Alert,> said a voice through the cyberbahn, <we have an incursion into the police net.>
The feline cocked his head, as if listening to something only he could hear.
He looked directly at Hamo.
And bolted out the door.
“Shit!” the cross-fox yelped, and took off after him.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST<
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
capt_hairballHamo’s eyes felt gritty as they sipped at their second cup of coffee and studied the informant through the interview room’s surveillance camera as a uniformed sergeant said, “Liesl Hübner, marten femme, twenty-four years old. Licensed prostitute with Brothel #47, college student.” The red fox glanced at the cross-fox, whose ears were swiveling at the sight of the young woman. She wore a leather dirndl and had fished a jackglove out of her bag. She had it on her right paw and her fingers were moving as she gazed fixedly at something only she could see. “She came in here demanding to talk to you.”
The transgender vulpine yawned again and drank more of their coffee as Joachim came walking up. “We’ll both talk to her. How long’s she been here?”
“Soon as she got here and told us what she wanted, I called Detective Schmidt,” the sergeant replied. “Maybe an hour or so.” Hamo grunted and the two detectives entered the room, closing the door behind them.
“About fucking time,” Hübner said as the two older furs entered. She had a nice voice, which made what she said a bit jarring to someone unused to it. “I’ve had to turn down two clients.”
“I apologize,” Hamo said as sincerely as they could as the two detectives sat facing her. “Thank you for coming in, Fräulein Hübner. I mean it. Now, can I get you anything before we start?”
“Another cup of coffee.”
“Fair enough. I could use another myself. Sugar, milk?”
“Black.” Hamo got up and left the room, and a few moments later a steaming cup of strong black coffee was placed in front of the marten. “Thanks.” She sipped, blew on it, sipped again. “You lot make good coffee.”
“We try,” Joachim remarked dryly slipping on his own jackglove and setting up the recording. “Now, would you like to tell us what you know? That way, you can get back to what you were doing.”
“What I’ll be doing is going home and getting some sleep,” the marten femme said. “I have classes in the – well, later this morning.”
“Classes? What are you studying?” Hamo asked.
“Art,” she replied. “I want to become a model.”
“I see. Well, good luck.” The cross-fox glanced at Joachim, who nodded. “I’m Detective Suleymanoglu, this is Detective Schmidt, Fräulein Hübner. Please tell us what happened.”
The marten said, “About midnight, I was at the brothel. I’m supposed to knock off work at midnight, but I decided to squeeze one more customer in, you know? So this guy comes in, and the first thing I see is he’s a bit odd.” She paused to get a sip of her coffee, and added, “He was acting a little strangely.”
“Strangely.”
Hübner nodded. “Feline, gray tabby fur, about two-three centimeters taller than me. He was wearing pants and a blue shirt, but what I thought was wrong was his mumbling.”
“Mumbling,” Joachim said.
“Uh-huh. He was talking like he was arguing to himself. Dingy-looking guy, too, but was wearing a cyberway.” She paused to drink more of her coffee while Joachim and Hamo exchanged glances.
“Could you make out what he was saying?” Hamo asked.
“A few words here and there, but he wasn’t speaking German.”
“Oh?”
“Sounded like English.”
“Ah. Go on, please.”
“Well, I thought it was funny that he’d be wearing a cyberway, you know? There are better brothels Upstairs he could go to.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I start sucking him, and he finally stops mumbling and starts getting into it. All he wanted was the blowjob, so when he’s finished, he starts talking to himself again.” She finished drinking her coffee. “I caught what he was saying this time.”
“Go on, please,” Hamo urged.
The marten femme frowned as she said, “He was speaking German, but it sounded funny, bad accent; he said something about ‘selling’ and something about ‘Underbox.’” She yawned and said, “Sorry. That’s all I know.”
“And you decided to come to us.”
“Well, word’s gotten around that you’re looking for a guy.”
Hamo nodded. “I’d like you to spend just a few more moments with a police artist, so we can bring this guy in for questioning. Then you can go home, but if you recall anything else, let us know, please?” She nodded. “Thank you, Fräulein. You’ve been a great help.“ Hamo and Joachim stood up.
“Hey!” They paused and Hübner said, “I heard that you promised a box of Bliss if you got any information.”
The boar glanced at the cross-fox, and Hamo said, “A promise is a promise. I’ll give it to you after you help the artist, okay?”
“Sure.” The pair left the interview room, passing a rabbit doe with a computer tablet who was headed for the room they’d just left.
“Mercenary, but that’s to be expected,” Joachim said. “So, what now?”
“Well, we start circulating the sketch, quietly, and we need to start spreading out through the Underbox,” Hamo replied. “If he’s looking to sell, he’d go to the areas with the largest numbers.”
The boar grimaced. “The clubs. Shopping arcades would be too well-lit and too open.”
“Right.”
“Time to talk to your friends again.”
“After I get her her reward.” Hamo chuckled. “No need to talk to them; I’ll just talk to Klaus. He might be short brains as well as height, but he can get word to Stranger and Feeler without us being too noticeable.” They grinned and winked at Joachim. “Pretty well hung, too, from what I recall from my night down there.”
“I didn’t need to know that,” Joachim said, rolling his eyes as the cross-fox started laughing.
***
“What are you doing here? Again?”
“Aw, Klaus, don’t be like that. Here.”
“This the guy we’re supposed to be looking for?”
“Ja.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure the bosses get it.”
“There is one other thing . . . “
***
Officers familiar with the Underbox were in plainclothes, with at least two of them posted in the major clubs and other businesses in the underground complex. All of them were connected, either through jackgloves or radio earphones.
Hamo and Joachim were at Attilas, comfortably ensconced in opposite corners of the establishment. Hamo was dressed in their latex dress but without the gas mask and wore their usual overcoat over the skirt and blouse. The boar was wearing jeans and a considerably distressed faux leather jacket that he’d worn in university and was two sizes too small for him.
The transgender fox smiled at recalling how the boar had grumbled while the other detectives laughed.
<Unit Twelve>, Hamo heard through the cyberbahn.
They saw Joachim’s avatar in the cyberbahn shake its head, and the fox reached out. <Twelve. No sign of him yet.>
Some time went by, a couple hours, with Stranger and Feeler having tipped off the staff to serve the two detectives only water. The various drug dealers who would circulate through the dance club weren’t told, and Hamo found themselves fending off offers of Bliss or stronger drugs. At least two young women and one young man were staying very close to Joachim, hoping that the boar would agree to them offering their bodies to him for a consideration.
The door to the club opened as Klaus let a few more furs in, and Joachim said, <Hamo. At the door.>
The cross-fox looked, and their ears perked. <Think that could be our boy?>
<Description matches - >
<Alert,> said a voice through the cyberbahn, <we have an incursion into the police net.>
The feline cocked his head, as if listening to something only he could hear.
He looked directly at Hamo.
And bolted out the door.
“Shit!” the cross-fox yelped, and took off after him.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST<
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Fox (Other)
Size 85 x 120px
File Size 54.9 kB
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