Innocent Eyes

His lifeless body floated atop the water. His betrayed eyes called for revenge. His long, beautiful life had been ended so meaninglessly. So cruelly. I wanted to do something for him. I wanted to bring justice to his death. But alas! There was nothing I could do without evidence. I had watched his murder, unable to stop it, unable to react. The shock and horror had frozen me in place. It was Thomas. Thomas had killed my friend. I had always been suspicious of his increasingly constant visits to my home. But the detective had taken a liking towards him for some inconceivable reason, so I let him be. But now, he has taken away an innocent life, and I have nothing to prove his crime.

I rested my paw on the glass of the aquarium, murmured my final goodbyes and made my way to avenge the death of Flounder the Goldfish.

My first task was to inform the detective of Flounder’s death. I knew that she would be devastated, so I brought my favorite plushy along, as an offer of condolence.

I found her at her desk with an enormous array of files and papers spread out in front of her. There was a hint of orange along with her usual smell today. She was speaking into her phone.

“No Jake, you listen to me. I am tired of these policemen patrolling around my house like I’m some sort of criminal. Get them away from here. Yes, yes I know. But Keller escaped the county jail like five weeks ago. If he really wanted to kill me, then he would've tried to that the very night he came out. This "revenge" crap is all just media gossip. You know how they've been hanging around my street like sadistic vultures, just waiting for something to happen, someone to get stabbed, all for a juicy headline the next morning. It drives me nuts. Can't you get rid of them too? Fine. Then just the policemen. What? Protocol? I don't give a damn about protocol Jake! Look. If they're not gone within the next hour, I'm going to set Bruno on them."

With that, she banged the phone down and rested her forehead on her desk. Poor detective. She had already been having a bad day, and the news I had brought her was just about to make it worse. Nonetheless, I had a duty, and it had to be performed. I nudged her and deposited my gift onto her lap. Flounder has been killed.

The detective turned to look at me. She smiled and rubbed my head. “Hi baby, Do wanna play?”

I tilted my head in confusion. Play? During this hour of grief? What on earth had gotten into Detective Chase? Then, I remembered that humans could not communicate like us. I had to show her. I tugged at her pants and barked softly.

“Okay, Okay, I’m coming” She slipped out of her chair and walked to the living room. I followed closely behind, ready to provide a comforting shoulder, or to catch her, if she were to faint. But the Detective didn’t even glance at the aquarium. She just opened the front door and went out into the lawn. Sometimes, I failed to understand how a woman who had solved hundreds of mysteries using the sheer power of her intelligence could fail to pick up on the simplest communication cues.

“Come on, Bruno!” She called from outside. I gave out a low whine and laid down next the aquarium. After a few minutes, she realized that I was not coming outside. She peered through the door. “What is it buddy? Are you sick?” She kneeled down and touched my nose. She always did that when she thought I was sick. I swatted her finger away with my paw and got up.

I pressed my face against the glass of the aquarium and then turned around to stare at detective Chase. Finally, she noticed.

“Oh no! Flounder!”, She exclaimed. “Is that what you were trying to tell me, buddy?” I leaned against her and gave her a kiss. “Oh, you poor thing. You really liked him, didn’t you?” She sat there for a while, stroking my fur. Then, she got up and continued on with her work.

…

A few hours had passed after Flounder’s death. The detective was sitting on the couch. She was talking to her phone, again. “Yes mom. No, no I’m fine. He was thirteen years old. He had to go sometime. Yeah. Okay Mom, Bye.”

She patted my head. “What do you want for dinner, Bruno?” 

“Woof” Chicken. I said.

“Yeah, I’m feeling like pizza too.”

Detective Chase ordered some pizza, then wrapped her arm around me. “Are you sad Bruno?” She asked.

Yes, I am. But I must not let my feelings keep me from getting justice for Flounder. We must report Thomas, detective. He deserves a lifetime in jail for his crimes.

“It’s okay baby, he died a happy, peaceful death.”

I whipped my head back to stare at Melissa. What did she mean by the words “Peaceful death”? Flounder was a victim of cold-blooded murder! The cat next door had stuck his paws into the water and slapped Flounder against the glass. Then, when he heard the detective approach, he fled the scene, like a true criminal. I had watched the entire thing with my own two eyes!

Had Thomas taken advantage of detective Chase’s innocence and used his villainous charms to deceive her? Perhaps the detective did not even know of the murder in the first place. But the cat’s scent is all over the crime scene! How had she not realized? I had too many questions and too little answers. So, I decided to pay a visit to Jellybean; the wisest dog in the neighborhood.

I jumped off the couch, and went out through the doggy door. I took a minute to see if detective Chase was looking at me, then squeezed through the bars of the front gate. (She didn’t know I could do that) The men who smelt like leather and mud were gone from outside of the gate. Instead, there was another man there. He smelt like sweat and rusty nails. I sniffed him and said hello. He smelt like fear now. He tossed me a biscuit. I ate it, then ran off to see Jellybean.

Jellybean was sleeping on his master’s front porch. He lifted one of his droopy eyelids to greet me, then shut it back again.

What do you want Bruno?

Flounder, my friend, has been killed by Thomas the cat.

I see. I offer my condolences.

Thank you, sir. But I am past my stage of grieving. The reason I am here is to request your help.

I do not see how my services can help you in this matter, Bruno.

The detective believes that Flounder has died from natural causes. How do I bring justice to Flounder when my own human does not know of the fact that he has been murdered?

Jellybean did not answer for a while. I was just beginning to think that he had fallen asleep again, when he spoke.

 You see Bruno, humans only believe what they see. Find the detective some evidence of the murder. She will take care of the rest.

Thank you, Jellybean.

Ah ha! The path I needed to take was clear now. Evidence. I knew what that word meant. The detective talked about it all the time. All I needed to do now, was find was a tuft of Thomas’ fur in the crime scene, and my case would be proven. Filled with a newfound excitement, I bounded homeward.

When I got home, I sensed that something was different. The lights had been turned off and the front door hung wide open. Something had happened to detective Chase. Immediately, I felt a sense of guilt crawling up my throat. I had run off to do my own bidding, failing to remember that the detective was unprotected from Thomas. He had already killed Flounder. I should have known that he would target the detective next.

I entered and sniffed about for the scent of an intruder. When I had finished covering the hallway, I moved on to the living room. Midway through my investigation, I lifted my head to look at the fish tank. My heart sank when I realized that it had been emptied and cleaned already. No evidence could possibly remain in it anymore.

Pushing away my disappointment, I continued sniffing. Presently, I picked up a trail. It was the biscuit man’s scent. I followed it as quickly as possible. Maybe he had heard the detective’s cries and ran to help her. My speculations were proven to be true when I saw that the trail led right into the detective’s bedroom.

When I entered into her room, I gave out a great sigh of relief. She was lying on her bed, fast asleep. I climbed on, and laid down next to her. I did find it a bit strange that she was sleeping with a pillow over her face, and that her belly didn’t go up and down, up and down, like it usually did when she was sleeping. But all that didn’t matter. The detective and I were happy, safe, and together once more. I rested my head on her arm and shut my eyes, vowing never to leave her side again.