Chapter 1
Call For A Case:

Rain, thunder, lightning and storm. Over the battered buildings of Camdom it unveiled. Releasing it’s power down upon it. Almost mercilessly. The city cut an eerie layout that frightened anyone who set eyes upon it. Blackness and mayhem. These traits of the city were well known across the land. Rain was not rare in Camdom. Not a soul enjoyed this either. All and everything was difficult when time of storm was of the essence. Life was much more difficult, for every employed being. From the shopkeepers, bakers, street workers and landlords, all the way down to the mayor himself. One job was particularly difficult for one sly and intelligent soul. The soul of Camdom’s top detective and private investigator. Swifteye the Sleuth. A fox of a hectic life and job. But I’ll have you know, he loved every bit of it. The sleuth deeply enjoyed seeking out the criminals of Camdom and bringing them hastily to justice. But he could not have too much fun, for it was serious work. So serious at some points, that life and death were at the will of one beast. But somehow, in the end, Swifteye always gained the better of the criminal and they were once again, punished porperly for their crime. Noted in the well tended journal of Swifteye was his most difficult case yet. A case that took all his worth to solve. A case that took the innocent lives of too many, and was all but easy to prevail over. Swifteye the Sleuth dubbed this case; The Case Of The Merciless Magnum. Swifteye crouched low to observe the clue to a further extent. Two, cleanly made scratches rested upon a small black chest in an alley beside the meat and poultry market. The fox had sighted them just barely as he passed. It was a vital clue for his case, that may just give him the outcome he was looking for. The fox squinted into the wood trying to decide from which direction the verdict had been passing. The rain, as said before, was of no help at all. Oversized drops landed in unwanted spots across the locked tight chest. There contents poured over the scratches making it difficult to observe in the depths of the night. Thunder crashed above Swifteye's head, much more than appreciated. It’s obnoctious noise battered through Swifteye’s train of thought as he tried his best to ignore it. The case was as important as any other and needed to be done before the night was through. Given silence and placid territory, the sleuth could unearth mor info on the subject. The only part of the storm that actually was helpful, was the strikes of lightning. At every bolt, light would be cast upon the scratches for a brief moment. Swifteye used these to his advantage to study them. The fox blinked once and looked up into the black sky. Drops flattened his fur onto his skin making his entire body heavy. He gave an inaudible growl at the clouds. He had wasted too much time already. Finally deciding that the scratches were indeed fresh and made by a beast coming from the north, Swifteye stood up onto his haunches to ring out his coat. His claws clenched the cloth in frustration of the storm. Time was of the essence. Swifteye hastily slipped his trench-coat back onto his back and spun around to continue on. Passing out of the alley toward the south, Swifteye's foot paws scrapped the brick road roughly. His eyes were gazing across the old city horizon in search of something, anything, of use. Suddenly, the fox’s magnifying glass slipped from his coat. Swifteye grabbed for it nimbly. But unfortunately, not nimble enough. The tool connected to the bricks with strong force. Large, blown up pieces of glass shattered and slid across the road. The metal ring came loose of the handle and rolled into a ditch. Swifteye clenched his fist. He kneeled down and scooped up a small shard. Staring into it, he remembered how he had been called to this case. The mayor had sent a messenger out to Swifteye, holding a telegram. The fox had took it from him and set it aside without worry. He went out for a drink with his partner, Robrile Roko Raccoon. The fox nearly forgot about the note until several hours later. When Swifteye finally did notice the thin envelope on his desk, he cursed under his breath at his incompetence. It had not been a good day for him. The fox extended a claw from his index finger. He inserted it in a corner and slid it to the side. A small short letter floated out onto the ground. Picking it up, Swifteye read it aloud to Robrile; “Swift, I had recently retrieved a ransom note in the city hall mailbox. It stated that a terrorist was to set fire to a very important building in Camdom at exactly midnight. Now I know it’s not your typical case, Swift, but please, could you find this terrorist before midnight. Lord knows what he may be capable of. Signed, Mayor Randfoot Basset hound.” Immediately, Swifteye motioned for Robrile to follow him to get to the case. It had already been five past eight. Swifteye snatched his trench-coat from the rack and bolted out the door into the storming evening. Now it was eleven twenty-five. Time was passing quickly. Swifteye let the glass shard slip from his hands absentmindedly. It the rain it would be of no use anyway. The fox made a mental note to purchase a new one during the morrow. Finally, Swifteye stood up once more. He brushed mud from his coat and stared at the glass shards, pondering the case with deep thought. Clue after clue, thought after thought passed through the foxes mind. All at once he tried to pull it together. Just then there was a muffled creek. Now it normally wouldn’t have mattered to him. The creek had been occurring for quite some time now. But not until now did he realize that it was a sign creaking. Actually he knew it was a sign, but not this sign in particular. Hastily Swifteye scanned the area for Robrile. he had not returned. Swifteye shook it off, Robrile did not have to know about his hunch just yet. Swifteye took a step forward into a walk. Soon he broke into a run in the direction of the creaking sign, just in view from the spot where his magnifying glass had broke. When the detective arrived, his red furred neck stretched up to look at the signs lettering; Emma Hare’s Candles and Soaps. F Swifteye nodded with satisfaction and darted to the front door. He reached for his ring of master keys on his belt. It was given to him in need of such an occasion. He selected a copper key and hastily shoved it into the key hole. With a click and a turn, the door opened wide. It squeaked loudly in need of an oiling job. The fox stepped inside more silently than he had entered. His feet patted the cold stone floor. Slowly, the fox scanned around the dark shop with hopes of another expected clue. Nearly in unison with when he walked inside, Swifteye spotted something. He took a glance behind him out the windows into the rain, then he stepped forward. He had spotted a small bucket placed on the counter top of the store. Swifteye stared down into it. Just as he had expected. The store’s supply of matches. It was a candle shop after all. But again as he expected, the bucket was nearly empty. Only a few matches remained at the very bottom. To one side, there was a pile up against the bucket’s side. With this, Swifteye made a conclusion. He spoke to himself quietly. “The pile is up against the north-eastern side, which means, the terrorist entered to grab the matches from the bucket hastily. In this haste, he took only what he could. A pile was left on the north-eastern side which means he came from southwest, approaching the bucket at an angle. He most likely wanted to return south-west back to the location of the building.” Swifteye smiled to himself. Not a very smart terrorist. He had obviously wished to use the matches to burn the building down. The matches were not free so it explained his reason of haste. During the day, he most likely entered to steal the matches while Emma Hare ( the shop owner) was in the back room. This all passed through Swifteye’s mind as he started back out of the shop, not bothering to lock the door once again. Without hesitation, Swifteye charged south-west in search of the terrorist. The case was finally coming together. He had found clues of all sorts that never seemed to fit. But after one discovery, it all came together. All along the case had in fact been quite simple for Swifteye to solve. He just hadn’t realized it earlier. Still the case was not solved yet, and the clock struck eleven forty-eight. The rain did not weaken over the time lapse. It only strengthened it’s down pour upon the sleuth. But it no longer disturbed him, for he had only a little more ways to go before th terrorist was found. But hurry still he must. If the criminal felt that his plan was threatened, he may decide th set the building a flame early. This was quite likely. Swifteye concluded by the clues left that the terrorist would most likely start his havoc early no matter what occurred. This disturbed Swifteye greatly which gave him a better reason to quicken his pace. After several more precious minutes of time, Swifteye began to feel as if he were on the wrong track. In fact he felt this way all the way until he came upon a small item on the road. The tiny object made the case seem almost amateur. For this item was a match. Swifteye no longer felt this way. He bolted out again with full assurance. He had this case solved. There was only one building in that part of town that was of any importance. All knew this building as, The Camdom City Bank. This criminal obviously had no wish for money. Only to cause destruction and cruelty across the city. Swifteye dug his claws into the brick road abruptly to come to a stop. He had heard footsteps. But only briefly. He stood for a moment to listen intently. The storm did not make this easy. The foxes eyes stared coldly into the building far ahead of him that was the bank itself. The fox was just about to uneasily move on once more when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. He leapt with surprise and almost slipped in a puddle. He quickly regained his balance and took off in a hasteful run towards the sound of the powerful bullet. His paws pounded across the wet road splattering water in all directions. His coat flew behind him in the wind dramatically. His face was stone with determination, focused on one subject, to get to the crime scene. Halfway to the bank and area where the shot was heard, Swifteye came across a turn in the road. A little ways inward Robrile stood still listening intently. When his superior officer in detectivtry passed by, his stare was broken immediately. Swifteye said nothing and only waved for him to follow. Robrile needed no further invitation. The short raccoon broke into a run just behind the red fox. They ran on and on for what seemed like hours. They slipped and slid on the wet ground with frustration. All of the elements were against them to get to the bank. At one point, Robrile tripped into a ditch with a roll. He gave a grunt as he fell. Mud covered his grey fur and black leather coat. Swifteye sighed silently and ran to help him up. He reached down his hand impatiently. Robrile reached up much too slowly for Swifteye’s taste. The fox glanced toward the bank with a frown. Then he snatched up Robrile’s paw and pulled him to his feet. Without waiting for the raccoon, Swifteye took off once more. Finally, the sleuth arrived at the gates of the bank. And shortly after, Robrile appeared as well. But they were too late. The crime had been committed. The body of a large rough looking terrier lied beside the bank’s sign. Swifteye made his way over to the body. The fox bent down and stared at the hole in the back of the dog’s back and jacket. He had been shot, without a doubt. The bullet had pierced him cleanly with a very powerful magnitude. Whatever gun had shot the terrier was very dangerous and of high caliber. Swifteye put a paw under the victim’s body and flipped him over. The dog wore a battered old bowler upon his head and a pair of mud caked old trousers. Not the typical victim. There was an even larger hole in the dog’s stomach where the bullet had actually been shot. Blood trickled down from it’s body an d into a small stream. Truly the work of a high caliber magnum of some sort. But what most caught Swifteye’s attention was a few items in the terrier’s hand. Matches. The fox froze. It was the first time that one of his cases lead into the next. Swifteye looked up into the eyes of his partner. “Matches.” he said. “Looks like we’ve found our man. But another criminal apparently got here first.” Robrile rose an eyebrow. The raccoon wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Do you mean t’ say-?” he started. Swifteye nodded before he could finish. Robrile frowned for a moment. Then he bent down to look a the wound. “Where’s the bullet?” he asked. Swifteye didn’t expect that question at first. Then he realized that his partner was right. The bullet went straight through. It had to have been laying on the road somewhere. The fox felt around for a bit. The wet earth soaked his paws. But even with the rain it did not take long to find the bullet. Never before had Swifteye set eyes upon such a thing. The bullet was bright green with golden thorns sticking out from it’s sides. They twisted forward towards the remarkably sharp tip. Swifteye rose an eyebrow and slipped the bullet into his safest pocket. “Maybe it was the police.” Robrile suggested. Swifteye shook his head at once, they would still be by the body without a doubt. “Didn’t a couple of other city folks get shot yesterday and a few weaks ago too?” asked Robrile. Swifteye nodded, deep in thought. “And didn’t the cops report a very odd looking wound?” the raccoon asked another query. Swifteye nodded again with amazement. “So in that case...” Robrile trailed off. Swifteye stood up staring down at the lifeless carcass of the first criminal. “In that case” Swifteye finished “we’ve got ourselves a new case to solve.”

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