By J. M. Allison
I flashed my badge at the officer standing guard and ducked under the yellow tape.
“I’m glad you’re here, Inspector Belden.” Officer Fuzzbee’s nose twitched as he hopped over and mopped his brow with a crinkled handkerchief. “I haven’t seen such a gruesome scene since the Heartsville V-day slaughter. Not a pretty sight, I can assure you.”
I pulled a toothpick from my pocket and popped it in my mouth. I rolled it between my teeth and glanced about the crime scene. The outside of the old factory appeared peaceful, but a decade as lead detective had taught me not to rush ahead.
A typical group of bystanders stood outside the yellow tape, straining to catch a glimpse of the chaos within. A mother with a dozen kits, a couple of teens, a news crew, a few construction workers, several businessmen.
“Lead the way Fuzzbee,” I instructed. “And tell me what we know.”
Fuzzbee shuffled ahead, his cotton tail bouncing with each step. “The break-in occurred around midnight. That’s when all security footage ends. The techs suspect sabotage. However the equipment is old, and the floor manager admits it’s known for randomly cutting out. The culprits trashed the office, blasted the door off the safe, stole the Hoppiton egg, then wrecked everything on the factory floor as they fled the scene.”
He paused at the door. “Brace yourself, Inspector. It’s gruesome.”
Fuzzbee pushed open the factory doors to reveal the destruction. Chocolate ears lay broken and scattered as far as the eye could see. Severed chocolate limbs and heads littered the cracked floor. Cream filling accented with brown fuzz coated the dented control panels, and caramel dripped from silent rusty conveyor belts.
Fuzzbee led me to the far end of the factory floor and ascended a short flight of creaky steps into the disheveled remains of an office.
A large portrait of the Easter Bunny hung behind the desk. He smiled from the canvas, his green and pink vest bright against his brown fur. An ornate golden egg, the prized possession of the Hoppiton family, sat next to him. An elegant cursive across the brass name plaque read “Sir Peter Thumper Hoppiton III.”
The remains of a large safe lay mangled in one corner. Torn and crumpled papers, discarded candy wrappers, and upended books covered every surface.
I scanned several of the abandoned papers. Shipping receipts, past due invoices, insurance policy papers, office memos, and old takeout menus.
I brushed a wrapper off the top of the waste bin behind the desk and fished out a large leather ledger. I flipped to find the last entries. My fingers skimmed over the torn pages highlighting the careful list of product inventory, sales, and profits.
“Mr. Hoppiton have any enemies?” I asked.
Fuzzbee’s nose twitched an irregular rhythm as he flipped through his tiny notepad. “Employees say they heard him arguing with March Hare last week. No one has any details other than the two yelled a lot. Mr. Hare reportedly shouted, ‘You better be able to deliver,’ and Mr. Hoppington responded with, ‘I’ll ruin you if you try.’”
I removed debris from on top of a wooden crate behind the desk and peered inside.
“Guess the culprits left their extra explosives after blowing the safe,” Fuzzbee speculated, peering over my shoulder.
“Do we have any information on Mr. Hare?”
Fuzzbee’s nose twitched again as he consulted his notes. “He runs the tea shop on Carroll Boulevard. Rumor is it’s a money laundering front, but no one’s ever been able to prove anything.”
I finished meandering around the upturned office. “Let’s talk to the floor manager.”
Fuzzbee signaled, and an elderly rabbit with mottled fur and a worn brown vest hobbled into the office.
“Mr. Coney, thank you for joining us.” Fuzzbee ushered the manager forward.
The gentleman nodded and shifted his weight back and forth.
“Are Mr. Hoppiton and Mr. Hare business partners?” I asked.
Coney stiffened, tugging on his vest and stretching to stand upright. “Mr. Hoppiton would never do business with that knave. Mr. Hoppiton keeps to a strict code of conduct. He even promised to rehire everyone once the supply problem was solved.”
“Supply problem?” I worried the toothpick between my teeth.
“Truffle cream’s been in low supply for the last three months,” Coney clarified.
“Is there usually a shortage before Easter?”
“No. But Mr. Hoppiton’s been using a new recipe that quadruples the cream requirements and adds Camellia leaves.”
“I didn’t see the new inventory in the ledger.” I held the book out to Coney.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Only Mr. Hoppiton and Mr. Lent work with the books.”
I nodded my thanks and dismissed Coney.
“Mr. Lent is Mr. Hoppiton’s agent. He handles insurance, administrative duties, and most of Mr. Hoppiton’s legal affairs,” Fuzzbee provided.
I nodded. I’d seen everything I needed. I strode toward the exit. “Make sure the factory remains closed.”
“Without the factory…” Fuzzbee stared after me. “What about the children? They’re expecting chocolates from the Easter Bunny.”
“The children will have to wait,” I called over my shoulder, “We’re duty-bound to find the rabbit responsible for this damage and set things to right.”
“You know who’s responsible?” Fuzzbee pressed as he followed me out of the factory.
“I do.” I smiled. “The staged scene, the promises to terminated employees, the incomplete ledger, the financial hardships, and the missing golden egg. I believe I know exactly who we need to find.”
“Inspector Belden, over here!” A cute bunny with copper hair elbowed her way to the front, shoving a microphone toward me. “Inspector, anything you can tell us about what happened in there? Who is responsible for this disaster? Will the factory close? Will this affect the Easter season?”
“Sorry, Ma’am,” I tipped my hat but kept walking, “tell ‘em Easter will be late this year.” I turned toward Fuzzbee. There was a villain to arrest, and a mountain of paperwork to finish. “Put out an APB on the Easter Bunny.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
a hopping good story!
Thanks for reading. I’m glad you enjoyed it. 🙂
Such a fun, clever mystery!
Thank you.
Fun story! I loved Fuzzbee’s warning about the carnage! All that chocolate and cream everywhere. Oh, the horrors!
Great story!
Cute!