Odd Prompts: Who let the werewolves out?
For this week’s Odd Prompt, I am borrowing from the spares, and asking who let the werewolves out?
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The arresting officer raged, stalking back and forth in front the chief, who shook his head, and tapped his desk.
“Sit down, Reg, and calm down, there’s no point in all this, this fury. I get it, you’re angry, but as guilty as we both know they are, we can’t pin this on them.”
Reginald Curtis paused, patted down his tweed jacket, and set his unshaven self down in the chair in front of the desk. He met the chief’s eyes.
“This is so damn unfair boss, one little manipulation, and the whole lot of them walk free?”
“I know, and believe me, I am pretty angry too, but what do you want to do? Falsify records, trick the system? They’re lawyers, Reg, they know the game, perhaps better than we do.”
Reg looked away, toward the door leading back out into the precinct. He caught a glimpse of an enthusiastically wagging, fluffy white tail, and he wanted to storm over to it and yank it.
“They’ve taken over this town, we might as well work for them,” Reg muttered.
“No, no way, it’s one thing to be angry, but I will not have you being defeatist, not in my precinct, not under my watch. Close the door Reg, so we can talk privately.”
Reg hauled himself up from the chair, and resisted slamming the door, choosing to gently close it instead. He sat back down.
“Look, I’m sorry, Chief, this is just driving me nuts. You got any idea how long it took to put that case together?”
“Yeah, I know, and believe me, I’m feelin’ sick right now, but we play this smart, no reckless moves.”
Reg shook his head. “How do we outsmart these guys? They’re super cunning! It’s like it’s bred into their DNA, which let’s face it, it probably is.”
The chief raised a meaty finger. “Reg, you might have hit on the answer. They’re creatures of cunning, but also more, shall we say, instinctive, right? So we prey on their instincts. They’re wolves, what can’t wolves resist?”
Reg blankly stared at the chief, who rolled his eyes. “What can’t dogs resist, not usually?”
“Um, belly rubs?”
“No! Food! They can’t resist food!”
Understanding dawned for Reg. He slapped his forehead. “Ah, but still, luring them somewhere doesn’t mean we can pin a crime on them, that’s entrapment boss, it will never stick in court, and they know it,” he gritted his teeth. “Sir, I am the last person to want to say this, but we don’t have a choice, we have to let the werewolves out. We have to play this smart, but let me work the case, let me build it, I’ll make it airtight, I promise.”
The chief sat back in his chair, and stared at Reg for several seconds, then nodded.
“Do what you need to, don’t stop till we have those hounds behind bars, where they belong.”
Reg returned the nod, and stood up. He resolved that not a single werewolf would escape his grasp, ever again.
