The Law of Averages

Book 2: Chapter 39: Breakfast at Tiffany's

Book 2: Chapter 39: Breakfast at Tiffany's

Tawny's floppy ears drew back on his head, a sign of confusion. "Tips on being a private investigator? Were you planning on going into the business?"

Dan shrugged noncommittally, unsure of how much he should reveal. Tawny probably wouldn't be thrilled that Dan wanted to poke around in a police investigation, but there was nothing explicitly illegal about looking into things on his own time. Dan just wasn't allowed to do anything that might impede the detective's work.

"I wouldn't suggest it as a career choice," Tawny admitted, taking a sip of his iced tea. "Private Eye's have a poor reputation anywhere you go, and work is unsteady at best."

"Not a huge market, then?" Dan queried curiously. Tawny hadn't spoken much of his PI days to any of his students, though an Academy classroom had hardly been the time or place for that conversation.

The officer's ears bounced about as he shook his head. "Not so much. People just aren't all that inclined to call upon independent investigators these days, and those that do have a fairly common theme. Usually its something regarding their personal life. People have an easier time revealing their worries to a complete stranger, than their own loved ones. The police, or victims of a crime, make use of us on occasion, but it's not a steady career by any means."

Dan blinked. "Weren't you a PI for a decade or two? That's a whole heck of a lot of cheaters."

"Yes, there were many. But not all of them were guilty. Sometimes it was just a paranoid spouse." He grimaced. "Dealing with clients is another problem entirely. Often, people do not want to hear the truth. They want to hear what they believe to be the truth. The moment you contradict that, they stop believing you. It was... frustrating."

"That's true of any job," Dan pointed out. "You must have to deal with belligerent civilians as a cop?"

Tawny shrugged. "The badge lends a certain amount of inherent respect and authority. People listen when I talk, even when I'm not saying what they want to hear. It is better, trust me."

Dan leaned back in the bench seat. "Well, I'm not really looking to be a PI at the moment. I was more interested in how you went about actually doing the job. Y'know, the investigation parts."

Tawny blinked and cocked his head in an eerily canine fashion. "Why do you ask?"

Dan shifted awkwardly in his seat. How much should he say? If he really believed that he wasn't doing anything wrong, then he should be fine admitting it. That logic seemed to track.

After another moment's consideration, Dan gingerly admitted, "I want to look into some things on my own time."

Tawny visibly came to attention. "What kinds of things, Daniel?"

"Oh, you know..." Dan said, twirling his hand in an utterly meaningless gesture. "Things."

"What kind of things, Daniel?" Tawny repeated, his voice stern.

Dan grimaced.

Tawny stared.

Dan broke first. The words poured out in a rush, "My case. Cases. The cases I'm in. Three of them, now, I think. I just need to do something, you know? People keep trying to fuck with me, and I've got no answers, and sitting at home twirling my fingers is driving me up the wall."

Tawny took in the jumbled explanation with a series of rapid blinks. He quietly reached for his drink, and took a sip. He set down the glass, and it clanked against the hardwood table. Ice jingled against glass, as he slid it away from himself with a single finger.

"That," he pronounced with solemnity, "is a terrible idea."

"Most of mine are," Dan admitted. "I'm still gonna do it."

"Civilians shouldn't poke their head into murder investigations," Tawny said sternly. "I knew better than that even when I was a private eye."

"You never got hired to look into a murder? Not even once?" Dan asked.

Now it was Tawny who shifted awkwardly. "A few cold cases here and there, perhaps. But those weren't active investigations. They were years old, and not nearly as dangerous to look into. Nothing came of most of them."

"I can't sit around and do nothing, Michael," Dan admitted. "I can't do it. It's not in me."

It had been, but he'd purged it. Dan had learned the truth: passivity was a trap. He would no longer sit by and wait for fate to happen upon him. He'd gotten lucky the once; it wouldn't happen again. Dan would have to march out and find it on his own.

"And I can't, in good conscience, assist you in something that might get you killed," Tawny countered immediately.

"Isn't there something I can do?" Dan pressed his former teacher. "Even something small. Some way to contribute? What did you do, when you were working those cold cases?"

Tawny sat back, frowning. "Those are nothing like this. I was looking into people that only a few cared about anymore. The cases you are involved in are huge and politically sensitive. You'll draw unwanted attention if you start poking around in an ongoing investigation, and that could be disastrous for the department!"

"Politically sensitive?" Dan inquired with confusion. "What's politics got to do with anything?"

"Politics is involved in everything!" Tawny hissed sharply under his breath, glancing around the crowded restaurant. "Politics determines the budget, the hiring and training of our people, and our overall effectiveness. Politics, and our reputation, which has never been lower. The department has taken loss after loss, we've completely lost track of Coldeyes' Crew, and now one of our highest ranked officers is missing?" He took an angry swallow of his tea, and slammed the glass back down on the table. His voice was still low, but his teeth were bared, and his hair had begun to poof outwards. "We look like clowns; we are clowns! The mayor is only just now waking back up to the fact that, yes, he does actually need a police department, just in time for everything to go to shit. We are in an incredibly precarious position, Daniel, and having a civilian, one who is close friends with a number of veteran officers, throwing himself headfirst into a murder investigation is the last thing the department needs!"

Dan took in the hushed explanation. He could practically feel the frustration rippling off his old teacher. The man was clearly aggravated, and not just at Dan. The situation was bad in the city, and the APD was stretched to its limit. Their own government seemed almost unwilling to provide them help. It was bad.

Dan took it in, and decided he didn't care. Politics could go fuck itself.

"People are dead," Dan said slowly, quietly. Angrily. "People were killed in what seems to be a plot targeting me. And it's not just strangers. I've been shot at, physically assaulted, frozen, poisoned, cut, and blown up." Not all of those at once, or even recently, but the point remained. "I have no answers, and many questions. While I might normally sympathize with the plight of the APD, at the moment I am so far beyond caring that there are no proper words to express my apathy. I need to find out who is fucking with me and why. I need to know if they are a threat to me and mine. I need to know this yesterday, not two weeks from now, after who knows what else has happened."

The two men stared at each other, each unwilling to bend. The waitress appeared beside their table, carrying a tray shaped like a massive pancake, piled high with their food. She passed it out, and they took it with grunted words of thanks. The two ate in silence, only the clicking of silverware and the hum of background conversation.

Slowly, tempers began to cool.

Tawny was the first to break the silence. "I came here to apologize, you know?"

Dan was caught so off-guard that he forgot to be sullen. "Apologize?"

Tawny nodded, fork scraping against ceramic. He popped a syrup soaked slice of pancake into his mouth and slowly chewed. His eyes closed in pleasure, and his ears peeled back. He nodded distractedly to Dan's question.

He swallowed with relish, then pointed the fork at Dan. "I've spoken to your fellow students already. You're the last on my list."

"Spoken about what?" Dan asked, bewildered.

"Matilda Fairbanks," Tawny answered morosely.

Ah.

"What about her?" Dan asked innocently. How much did Tawny know? How much was he told? Cornelius had said he'd keep Dan's name out of it, and thus far that had held true.

Tawny sighed. He laid down his silverware, and made a noise somewhere between a growl and a grunt. "It seems I was... mistaken about her trustworthiness. It seems that, in addition to being a spectacular upgrade analyst, Matilda was also a criminal and a lunatic. She was caught harboring a dangerous fugitive. I wasn't given specifics, but she'll be spending the next few decades in prison."

Dan gasped convincingly.

Tawny grimaced, shaking his head. "I owe you an apology. I inadvertently put you and your fellow students in close contact with a criminal. Matilda used to be a friend and I just assumed she hadn't changed. That was a mistake, and you very well could have suffered for it. So: I apologize."

Dan looked him over. The man seemed sincere. Dan hadn't thought Tawny was involved, given his lack of imprisonment, but it was nice to hear it said. The man had done nothing to Dan, except try to be a decent teacher. Dan nodded to him.

"Apology accepted."

Tawny sagged slightly. "I appreciate that, Daniel. Though I still feel like I owe you, somehow. Owe all of my students. It's the only reason why I'm even considering helping you on this."

Dan perked up. "You'll help me?"

"No." Dan slouched back down at the Tawny's quick reply, but the officer continued, "I won't help you interfere in a case, but I will answer any questions you wish. For all the good it'll do you. Investigation isn't something you can pick up in an afternoon."

"I don't need to be a proper investigator," Dan replied. "I just need a way to get started. Anything I can do to help will ease my mind."

Tawny rolled his eyes, but resumed his meal.

"Ask away," he said, waving his fork in Dan's direction.