The Canes Vinatici

It was a horrible taste. The pressing need to show flattery. He hated the gratuitous words he was expected to speak. He hated them more than he hated coming to these events. The Mayor had requested his presence at an election dinner. A request was usually just that and, nine times out of ten, Barker would ignore it. A request from the Mayor was the one time in ten he would go, or be forced to go.  

“I know we all know, Detective Barker. He has solved many cases. Got me out of a couple binds myself,” the Mayor paused for the nervous laughter of those there to flatter him, “most recently, he solved the case of the group previously known as The Shock. Now, he is here tonight to be awarded his own division of Urgway Detectives.” The Mayor stopped and let his flashy grin spread across his face.  

Barker had indeed put an end to The Shock. Not quite the way the Mayor here thought Barker had. Barker had lined up the pins and knocked them down, at least nine of the pins. The last pin, the front pin, he kept standing. The Hacker, who he later learned was named Buntly, was still swiveling around Urgway. He was now under the complete control of Barker, but this crowd didn’t know that.  

Barker put his fork down on the table. He hadn’t actually been eating. He was just using it to keep his hands busy. He hadn’t prepared for anyone to call him out this evening. He had assumed this was another story of come pat the Mayor on the back with useless drivel. He pushed out his chair and stood to his feet. His shoes were much nicer than they had been a month ago. They were so black and shiny he could almost see his reflection. This wasn’t the benefit of being a detective. This was the advantage of having a hacker in your back pocket.  

Barker passed old bird face, Pssitticus, as he moved towards the Mayor and the podium. His boss, or is it, former boss, now, didn’t look too pleased with the announcement. That meant he hadn’t been informed either. Was Barker ahead of Pssitticus now? It didn’t matter to him, he had bigger fish to fry than bird brain.  

Barker felt several palms flat on his back, “congratulations! some of them said. None of them actually cared, they were here for self-glory, this announcement didn’t affect them. It just meant that now Barker was on the favor train. These rich snobs would come to him with outlandish request. Follow my cheating wife, find my missing runaway daughter, yadda yadda.  

“Congratulations, Barker, I bet you didn’t see this coming did you,” said the Mayor, flashing his corny smile. He grasped Barker’s hands and turned to the well-placed newspaper cameras. The bulbs flashed, blinding Barker. He supposed his distorted scowl would be front and center on the paper the following morning. He hated the attention.  

The Mayor sidestepped and allowed Barker the microphone with a flamboyant gesture. Barker stepped forward and cleared his throat. He suddenly wished he had brought his glass of water. It would give him a mere moment to connect his thoughts. He didn’t want his first words as a new lead detective to be rubbish. He straightened his tie and fixed his collar.  

“I appreciate the gesture of consideration,” he started, this drew applause. He waited for the buffoons to simmer down. “It is with great regard that I stand here before you. Honestly, I just thought I had to come say nice things about the Mayor tonight,” Barker turned to the Mayor and gave a wink. This drew laughter from the crowd. The Mayor showed his humor by clapping. “As it turns out, I get to hear nice things about me and that’s always a nice turn of events.” Barker actually hated flattery. Not that he didn’t like for people to know he was better than them, on the contrary, he loved that, but what he hated was… well, people.  

“As the Mayor eluded to, I had no prior knowledge of this honor. I still don’t even know what it entitles, but I am privileged and honored to have the respect of such an esteemed crowd and city.” Urgway was a dustbin of cities. It was a cesspit and it was decrepit. These people were much the same. Barker was a good liar, you had to be to do what he did.  

“I have every intention to live up to the expectations and standards that this city has come to expect. I will lay my gratitude at your esteemed feet this evening. Then, tomorrow, I will put back on my detective coat and make sure that this city is safe.” This drew the biggest applause of the evening. The Mayor stepped forward and grasped Barker’s hand again. The flashes went off and Barker gave his cheesiest smile for the reporters.  

2. 

It had already been established to the remainder of The Shock, be it a very small remainder, that this was Barker’s show. This wasn’t a scenic walk where everyone held hands and enjoyed a merry time. This was a very strict one-man show, with side characters that were allowed to operate at the whims of Barker.  

Barker had done the whims of others. He had been on the detective force under Pssitticus for over ten years. He had grown up being ridiculed for being a hound. He had watched dogs everywhere being sequestered to nothing. That was a time after the Canes. A time when everything started to become bleak. His father lost his livelihood and quite possibly his mind during that time. Barker wasn’t going to let someone ruin what he had worked for.  

That was why he reminded the men he had left behind of The Shock that this was a transition. They were no longer The Shock. They no longer diddled in money scams. They would stay off the Rescues’ watch list. They would hunker down and become ghosts. Ghosts to be used when Barker needed a haunting. That was it, nothing else. They lived for Barker and they were free because of Barker.  

After watching their comrades marched off to police cars and then to prison, very few of them spoke against their lucky predicament. Even the former leader, Buntly, relented his seat of power and groveled at Barker’s feet. For this, Barker made sure Buntly was still able to live very nicely for himself. Barker needed henchmen and brutes, but he would also need to keep men with brains at his side. Buntly, for the all the stupid acts he had done, was a very smart man.  

3. 

With the promotion to his own detective branch, Barker hadn’t expected too much. This was why he was surprised when the Mayor handed him the address to his new office. It was in the Mayor’s own building. Actually, if Barker had read right, and he had, then, it was an entire floor to his own unit.  

The dinner had been on a Friday evening. That meant Barker wasn’t exactly expected in office until Monday, but Saturday morning he had hailed a taxi to take him to the building. The taxi smelled like dirty gym shoes. Barker had to hover his feet to avoid the gum embedded into the floorboards. The driver had an accent that said he was probably from somewhere around Maharris.  

“I want to get to 4th and Hester,” Barker said. The taxi driver nodded and started to try to make small talk with Barker. “Actually, if you could just turn up the music that would be great,” Barker interrupted. The taxi driver didn’t seem pleased, but he would be counting on a tip at the end of the drive. A tip he wouldn’t be getting, but Barker wouldn’t tell him that until the ride was over.  

Barker thumbed through his pocketbook. He had to focus a lot of his attention on the gum, however. It seemed the driver didn’t have an admonition against potholes. It was hard to do, Barker would give him that, in Urgway the roads were potholes, but it still annoyed Barker.  

“We are here 4th and Hester, as requested.” The taxi driver seemed overly proud of himself. The way the words rolled off his tongue was as if he had won something. Barker fished in his front pocket for his wallet. The driver turned back towards Barker. He was cross-eyed and had a gap in his front teeth. “Fourteen eighty-three,” he said, opening the barrier window of the taxi.  

Barker grabbed fifteen from his wallet and handed it to the driver. The driver took the money and turned. He noticed Barker wasn’t moving to exit the taxi.  

“Not the right place?” he asked.  

Barker hated the expectations of people. It was only seventeen cents, but it was the principle of it, not the sum.  

“Change,” he said.  

The driver’s eyes grew wide, which really defined his lazy eye. He waited a moment more, waiting to see if maybe Barker was joking. Barker was not joking. Then, he rummaged in his ashtray compartment and drew out a quarter.  

“Umm, I have a quarter,” Barker grabbed it and exited without fishing for a dime, it was the interest he owed.  

The taxi sped off down the street. Barker stood under the towering office of the Mayor. The front of the building was mostly made up of tinted glass. It was the tallest building in Urgway and housed all the divisions of the city. It also housed an executive suite for a large stockbroking company. It left an imposing impression on those who stopped to look at it.  

Barker walked through the revolving doors. The building was never locked. The ground floor was a museum of Urgway’s history. Not many people cared about Urgway’s history on a Saturday it seemed. Barker made his way to the elevators. His office would now be on the twenty-second floor.  

Barker found himself thinking of the tiny police department twenty minutes away from this building. He saw the two small desks in the detective department. Both of which would be sitting empty now. Lucky having bit the bucket, so to speak, and Barker having moved up in the world. It would now be just Pssitticus. Old feather head would be opening that door on Monday morning, banging the filing cabinet, and then, slunking off to his cupboard sized office. Barker almost felt bad for the parrot. He had nothing now. No subordinates, no connections to the outside world, and nothing to show for his life. The feeling faded fast from Barker, he didn’t have time to care about the old bird.  

The elevator dinged and Barker stepped out onto wooden floors. Not the cheap, generic wood, but the real hardwood. The kind that was professionally stained by someone who knew what they were doing. Nothing like the old carpet down at the police station. Barker walked by two cubicles, larger than Pssittcus’s office. This would be where his team would work. Outside each cubicle was a desk, where assistance would type up notes in every case. Barker had never had an assistant.  

Barker moved down the aisle way, which was bigger than the entire detective headquarters down at the PD. He stopped in front of a glass door. Already printed, in bold black letters was his name: Detective Senac Barker. Under it was his new title, head of Urgway’s detective units.  

Barker opened the door and looked at the room. The only defining feature was the oak desk in the middle of the floor. It was large and sturdy. Behind it was a large cushioned, swivel chair; like the one from Rescue. Barker stepped into the office and shut the door behind him.  

4. 

After taking down The Shock, things had changed for Barker. He was rallied as a hero. One news publication even went as far as putting a cape on a stock photo of Barker. Pssitticus had a really good time making a joke of that one.  

Barker didn’t have a lot of time to worry about the jokes. He was invited to interview, after interview. He didn’t want to do them, but breathing down his neck was the Mayor. He told Barker this was a career launching pad. After helping him with the drug outbreak and now conquering The Shock, his words, not Barker’s, he was a money detective now.  

Barker had just wanted to be left alone. He had his own plans. Things he needed to get done. Things that the publications couldn’t know. Things that the Mayor of Urgway could definitely never know.  

Barker had just enough time to shore up The Shock during the first hectic week. He had sent Buntly off to a penthouse somewhere in Acera. He had instructed him to start building a new system, something much better firewalled than the last system. He had kept the brutes of the group back in Urgway. With them, he started to secure some of the small gangs of the city.  

He wanted the cutthroats to know they had a new boss. Even if they didn’t know the face of the boss. He had high instructions that any gangs, not of the canine variety, be shut down immediately.  

Those were his first street orders. These gangs would see what it felt like to be hunkered down. They would see what it felt like to be scared and in the world alone. Although, they were criminals. Barker wouldn’t stop with the criminals, however. They were just the easiest place to start. You had to get your foot in somewhere. Then, you wedged the door open and the possibilities would become endless.  

5. 

Barker put his paw out and touched the mahogany walls. Much more delightful than the cold concrete of the PD. He imagined the warmth in the winter surrounded by proper insulation. Barker used the back of his knuckles to tap on the well placed wooden desk. Real oak, he had suspected as much on his first visit. This desk alone was probably more than his previous salary. It was also properly dusted. He wasn’t sure that a cleaner had been through the PD since it was first opened fifty some odd years prior.  

Barker noticed that a picture of him and the Mayor was now  hanging on the wall. He looked at his own cheesy smile. He adjusted his tie. It was his second Saturday on the job and his second visit to the office. It wasn’t an official work day for him. Technically, this office didn’t even open until Monday. All he had done so far was interviews and smiles. Yet, he felt the pressing need to be seen as he saw himself.  

“I had it added as a welcoming gift,” Barker turned. Standing behind him, in a suit of his own, was the Mayor. The difference was that the Mayor’s suit was a little snug at the shoulders. It had to be a pressing job to find a suit big enough for a primate of his size. “It is the first step to making this place a little more homey for you,” he said. The Mayor stepped in to join Barker. He looked around and smiled. “I hope it meets your imaginative standards?” Barker doubted he cared.  

“It is perfect,” Barker said. Best to keep the flattery running at all times, Barker thought. This man may not be his favorite person, but he was a very important figure, with lots of important friends.  

“It isn’t finished, of course,” the primate swung his meaty arm through the air in a show of emptiness. “Still needs a few amenities, but it will be ready for you Monday morning.” The Mayor turned and headed back towards the door. “Until then, why don’t you join me in my office for a drink, Detective,” it wasn’t a question and Barker knew that.  

Barker would have sighed, he would have refused, but he didn’t do either. No matter how much he had just wanted to sit in that cushioned chair and look out the window, he couldn’t now. Now, he would have to go make banter with the Mayor of Urgway. He was sure there was a ploy in it somewhere. There was always a ploy with people like the Mayor.  

6. 

The Canes hadn’t formed overnight. It had been a process. Barker couldn’t pinpoint all of the nuances of development. He was sure there were many back alley deals. He was sure there were nights when things didn’t look like they would ever come to fruition.  

That was why on his nights of struggle, he chalked them up to labor for the prize. He had taken many cases that meant nothing. As a rookie, he was so green that he messed up more cases than he solved. It wasn’t anything to do with smarts,  it was learning how to manipulate the scenery. It was easy to connect A to B. The hard part was taking A and connecting it to K and then back to B.  

That is what set him apart from different detectives; not only his will to right a wrong but also his ability to manipulate without sticking his own hands in the mud. There were many detectives who went in on the wrong side of the case. Too many crooked detectives and cops actually; especially here in Urgway. The difference, Barker used them to do his deeds and they were willing to do them.  

When things had gone south, Barker was always upwind of the debacle. He had benefited and rowed up the stream. Those who still stood were those he had planned to stay.  

That would be the way of the new force of Urgway, as well. He would put into place what he wanted to put into place. Those surrounding him would be there out of necessity. Those who fell would fall under his accord. He was the ultimate. He was the end all be all.  

Barker was raising the dead. The hounds would growl again.  

7. 

Floor number sixty-two, the floor of the Mayor’s offices. That was where Barker and the Mayor stepped out of the elevator. Unlike Barker’s new office, this office area was only split into two sections. Along the walls, were books. It reminded Barker of an imposing library. In the center was a hand-carved oak desk. Today, being a Saturday, there was no secretary behind it. On the lip of the desk was a nameplate: Linda Wetherby.  

Barker noticed the floor plan was different as well. Whereas Barker’s office was floored by wooden planks, the Mayor’s was an imposing red carpet. It exhumed power, Barker even had to note it was a nice touch.  

The Mayor led him through a wooden door with a large golden nameplate: The Mayor, it read. Come to think of it, Barker wasn’t even quite sure what the Mayor’s real name was. For so long, he had just been the Mayor. He was the Mayor long before Barker was a detective. He was the Mayor long before the Canes was caught and dismantled by that fox from Rescue. He had been the Mayor so long, that may as well have been his real name.  

The office door swung open to a massive oak desk of auburn color. The real perk of this office, however, was the view. Behind the Mayor’s desk was a massive three-pane window. Where Barker’s office was secluded and closed, the way he liked it, the Mayor’s was open to the world. Well, open to at least the flying world. Being sixty-three stories off the ground and looking out into the city of Urgway was imposing. Match it with the red carpet, and the towers of books, you had a statement of power and respect.  

“Sit,” the Mayor motioned to a cushioned chair. He walked over to a corner and popped open a globe; which doubled as a bar it seemed. The Mayor pulled out two small glasses and a decanter of what was probably whiskey. Barker wasn’t a big fan of drinking, but he would imbibe, from time to time, in the right situations. Now ,seemed like it would be one of those situations.  

“How long have you been a detective, Barker? Ten, fifteen years?” The Mayor opened his top left drawer. Inside were some of the most expensive cigars Barker had ever witnessed. Barker wasn’t much of a cigar man, but his father had been. At least before the Canes was caught and dogs everywhere were made to suffer.  

“Thirteen years,” Barker answered, waving off a cigar.  

The Mayor shrugged and leaned back, propping his feet on the desk. His shoes were shiny and very likely out of Barker’s price range. “Do you mind?” The Mayor asked, already lighting the cigar.  

“No,” Barker said, even though he hated the idea of smelling like a smokehouse. 

The Mayor took a long pull. His lips curled around the base of the cigar and smoke sprouted out either side. Barker realized at that moment the Mayor was a very crude looking man. Very brutish in his features. 

“I like the idea of working together Barker. I hope we can become more than two men who share an office. Did you know I knew your father?” The Mayor glanced to Barker, gauging reaction.  

Barker didn’t show any outward reaction, however, on the inside, his mind exploded. He had changed his last name at twenty, before enrolling in the detective academy. He had gone out of his way to distance himself from his family name after his father died of a massive heart attack. He had taken the steps, but he supposed the Mayor had steps to uncover, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he would know. Barker thought about pounding the rest of his small glass of whiskey but instead took a long slow sip, to buy some time.  

“He was a good man,” the Mayor continued, saving Barker the trouble of a reply, “Very reliable,” the Mayor blew a cloud of smoke into the air and watched it swirl for a moment. “You know I met him when we were both around twenty-three. He was just a factory worker then. I was a young upstart, straight from graduate school, a fresh face in politics. It’s really embarrassing how we met,” the Mayor stopped and looked at Barker. “Need another glass?”  

Barker looked down at his empty glass. That sip had turned into a chug. He held it out and the Mayor leaned forward, pouring it to the rim with a smile, teeth biting the butt of the cigar.  

“I wanted to run for city council. I didn’t even know what city council did. Sounded fancy, I didn’t know it was a crapshoot. Anyhow, I was walking around with fresh pressed general store khakis and a button up that could have passed as a flannel.” The Mayor paused, taking a drink of his own whiskey.  

“Your father was the first man to laugh in my face. I remember his exact words being something like, you have a face that looks like you just popped out of your diapers yesterday and you want my vote?” The Mayor laughed.  

Barker had paced himself on the second glass of whiskey, how much damage could his father have done anyhow?  

“Your father sat down with me, called me about one hundred names, not one of them suitable for general conversation then gave me his number. Over the next few weeks, he talked to me, told me some secrets of the city. After those two weeks, he shook my hand, and was the first name on my petition.”  

The Mayor pulled the stub of a cigar from between his teeth and stubbed it out in the ashtray Barker hadn’t noticed him pull out.  

“To this day, I remember your father with respect and awe. You know how many people signed after seeing your father’s name? Practically, the entire city, I was the Mayor within two years. Your father put me in this chair, well ,not this chair, but one similar.” The Mayor slammed down his whiskey.  

Barker took a sip of his that, again, turned into a long drink. This would be the payoff of the story; the butt of the story if you will.  

“Barker, I hope to all hell that you are half the man your father was. If you are, then you will be fantastic in this position. If you are half the man, we will get along just fine,” The Mayor opened a drawer on the right side of his desk. “Your father died when you were, what, thirteen?”  

Barker thought back to the day his father died. The district he lived in still held his father in some revere, even if his father had fallen on some hard times. Barker’s father lived, well away from home. When he died, Barker got the message at school. He hadn’t seen his father in almost four months. A massive heart attack, they told him. He didn’t cry, he didn’t know the man enough to cry. The district he grew up in cried. His mother cried. She went into such a state that Barker never really knew his mother again either. That was what the world had done to hounds everywhere.  

The Mayor pulled out an envelope. He pushed it towards Barker.  

“Your father would have wanted you to have this,” he said.  

Barker leaned forward and placed his still half full cup on the table. His hands were a bit shaky.  

Barker was almost in his mid-thirties and he felt like he was a child reaching for that envelope.  

He grabbed it and pulled it off the desk. He slowly opened it. Inside were two sheets of paper and a small envelope. He pulled out the papers. One was the clear marks of the bank of Urgway. An account number, a deposit box, and a name, his name. 

“Your father left that with me before he went to the big house. I would have stopped it, if I could you know that, right?” He almost sounded sad.  

“Nothing anyone could have done,” Barker said.  

“I wanted to pardon him, but it was just too big, even for me,” he said.  

Barker knew it was too big. It was the biggest news in over a decade. The Canes Venitici had been household names, and now, the leader had been caught by a fox. Barker pulled the other sheet from the envelope. It was a letter. His father had written him a letter. Barker put it back into the envelope, he wasn’t going to read it here. He dipped into the envelope one more time, pulling the smaller envelope out. He opened it and saw it was filled with index cards, hundreds of them. Each card had a name. Each name had a title and a debt owed.  

“Your father was caught, jailed, and sentenced, Barker,” The Mayor leaned forward. “But the Canes didn’t die, it just took a long break, waiting on you.”  

8. 

The Canes had been something so large before it died that it wasn’t even a crime syndicate so much as a culture. People lived and died by the name. Families were made and torn apart. Entire cities depended on the Canes. When it fell, the entire ecosystem fell. It went from day to night.  

Sure, half of the world celebrated with Noel the fox king. The other half, the canine half, was thrown into the shadows. They were stomped on. Even those that had not met a member of the Canes a day in their lives. Dogs were thrown into the streets. City’s infrastructures were tumbled over.  

So many hounds were taken out back and metaphorically put down. Homeless rates went up, but the numbers were pushed down on media sources. Thousands of dogs starved to death, others froze in the winter, and the media only talked about the vindictive ways of hounds everywhere.  

They failed to spread the word of how they had eaten large chunks of the proverbial pot. They had downed wine, hip to hip with those they now sentenced to death.  

Hounds everywhere in the world were sentenced right along with the Canes. The same group of individuals who had sheltered, raised and provided for an entire generation.  

That was what drove Barker. That was the image he promised to never see again. 

9. 

Barker had drunk another glass of whiskey before excusing himself from the Mayor’s office. He wanted nothing more than to make the trek to the elevator and back into his own office, forty some stories below.  

The elevator ride was longer than he remembered coming up. The alcohol was coursing through his body now. Barker didn’t drink much and now that he had, he remembered why. It made the brain foggy. Would he feel like this if it wasn’t for the drink?  

The elevator dinged and he stepped back onto the hardwood flooring of his own headquarters. This was his. Under the ever watchful eye of the Mayor of Urgway. The Mayor had given him this information. The Mayor had lined him up a spot in the office. He had promoted him. He had given him the story of his father. However, Barker wasn’t gullible enough to believe the pretenses.  

He knew that the Mayor didn’t do this from love. The Mayor may have been scrawny, baby-faced boy once. His father may have elevated him to the power he now enjoyed, but that wasn’t why he had given Barker all of this.  

He hadn’t given him the mahogany desk as a gift, he had given it to him as a leash. Telling him to stay in place like a nice little doggy. Don’t overstep your bounds. This is a nice cushioned spot you have here, and now, you can curl up and nap.  

Barker walked back towards his own office. It was a nice little office. It provided everything that he would need to be a detective. Sadly, for the Mayor, that wasn’t the final idea of Barker.  

He hadn’t promised himself that someday he would be a detective. He hadn’t promised himself that someday he would work under a primate’s every watchful gaze.  

Barker had promised to eradicate those who had pushed him down. He had promised to see hounds put back into their rightful place in the food chain. The Mayor had thought to appease him by placation. Instead, he had given him another avenue to the throne he sought.  

Barker opened his large wooden door. He moved around to the other side of his desk. The cushion of the chair was just as soft as he remembered. He sat there for a moment, in silence. Without letting a thought escape his mind. This was peace. This was the calm before the storm.  

Barker pulled the letter from his father from the envelope.  

Dear Son, 

It started that way with endearment. His father, the most powerful man in the world at one time, showing some unknown affection. Barker crumbled the letter. He wasn’t his father. Barker threw the letter into the trashcan. He opened the envelope with the index cards. The first name on it was Tom Poodles.  

Barker picked up the phone on the side of his desk. Time to make some calls.