Shortly backup arrived and there was a thorough investigation of the scene of the crime. Experts were called in to look for fingerprints, equipment residue, loose change, anything that might lead to the whereabouts of the stolen equipment or the thieves. Those in close proximity to the scene were interviewed about seeing any suspicious activity. After going through all the correct procedures the case was turned over to the officer who had first arrived on the scene, namely Omeric.

Along with the case came all the clues gathered in the investigation. All together Omeric had a total of two clues. One was a key and the other was the small furry animal he had seen earlier. It wasn't much, but it was a start. The first thing he decided to do was find out where the key went and then he could figure out who it belonged to. He decided to visit a lockmaker friend he had.

Omeric arrived at the lockmaker's shop at around noon on a Wednesday. Walking into the shop Omeric pulls out his gun and shouts, "Freeze! This is a bust! You don't have any rights and if you move one muscle I'll take away your lefts too!"

The man behind the counter slowly looked up from his paper and looked at Omeric.

"If you don't put that thing away, I'm gonna hafta kick your sorry behind outa my store," said the man softly.

Omeric put away his gun laughing softly. The man behind the counter was his lockmaker friend. He often helped him out with cases involving locks or anything involving security.

"Don't you ever get flustered?"

"That's what security is for. I saw you before you even stepped out of your car," replied the man, "Besides you try this trick every time you come into my store."

"And it's never worked."

"Nope, it hasn't. So what can I help you out with this time?"

"I was wondering if you can help me find out what this key is for?" said Omeric taking the key out of the police evidence bag.

"Hmm," said the man, taking the key, "Looks like the key to a building. Though can't be sure, y'know a key can go to anything. Where did ya find it at?"

"At a warehouse. Eastside of town."

"Hmm. Come back tomorrow. Should have something for you by then."

"Okay," said Omeric walking for the door. About a foot from the door he suddenly spins around with his gun drawn shouting "Drop it!"

The man calmly looked up and said "Get out of my store Omeric. Now."

Omeric steps out of the security store and gets back into his traveling craft. The next thing he wanted to check out was the 'small furry animal'. The report that came with the animal did not have the name of the animal, so that's where he decided to start.

He started off in the library. It had to be some sort of animal. Under animals he found birds, cats, dogs, horses, rabbits, fish, pigs, etc. It obviously wasn't a bird or a fish so he eliminated those two immediately. It was small, so that eliminated all of the bigger animals like elephants or rhinoceroses. It was found inside of the warehouse and it had a collar and leash, so it might be some sort of pet. Under pets he looked for small and furry. The computer came up with rabbits, gerbils, hamsters, hurkles, rats, mice, tribbles and old fruit.

He knew that the animal was probably not one of your common household pets, otherwise he wouldn't be in the library trying to find out what it was. That eliminated everything except hurkles, tribbles, old fruit and gerbils. He immediately eliminated gerbils, when he was a kid he had had one, and tribbles, everyone knew how annoying tribbles were and besides he was a police officer, not a starship captain.

That left hurkles and old fruit. He decided to check out old fruit first, since it best fit the description of small and furry. Under the file for old fruit he found a description. The file said that old fruit was usually small and furry with a covering of mold. Old fruit was most often found in the dark corners of uncleaned refrigerators but was also known to inhabit book-bags, lunch-boxes and plain brown paperbags. The file went on to discuss mating habits, life-span, migrating habits and other interesting facts about old fruit. After reading more about old fruit than he would ever need to know, Omeric decided that the animal he had found was not old fruit and he could now positively identify that previously unknown mass that was in the back of his desk drawer at the precinct.

Omeric then called up the file on hurkles. The file said that hurkles were small furry creatures with round faces that are constantly smiling up at you with twinkling eyes and cute furry cheeks. The only exception being when they are looking at someone or something else the exact same way. Hurkles can be distinguished by one distinguishing characteristic, claimed the file. They are unfailingly happy. They are constantly, annoyingly, disgustingly happy. Their mood ranges from a serene peaceful pleasant to bubbly, ecstatic giddiness. Hurkles are not often found in the wild, but then again they are rarely looked for. Most hurkles are considered pets and are extremely loyal. They posses no formal language and are mostly dumb, with their only form of communication in the way of yelping. Omeric closed the file and smiled; he had found his animal.

Upon reaching his office he looked up the registration records of all known hurkle owners. Unfortunately hurkles did not have to be registered. However, sellers of hurkles were rare. All he had to do was call all the pet store owners and ask if they sold hurkles, then he would be one step away from solving the mystery of the hurkle owner. He got a copy of the orange pages and started with the first pet store. The store did not sell hurkles. Neither did the second store or the third or the fourth or fifth and so on, until Omeric had reached the fifteenth store did he finally reach someone who sold hurkles.

He went to the store and talked with the owners. He asked him whether they had sold any hurkles recently. They said no. Omeric asked a few more questioned. They answered them. He asked how many hurkles they had sold. They said they hadn't sold any hurkles except for five total in their entire time being in business. Then they told him if it was information on hurkles that he wanted he should talk to Wonk. Omeric asked who was Wonk. They said that he was some expert on hurkles. Omeric asked what he looked like. They said that Wonk was old, some might even say ancient, skinny, and short, with no hair. He wore glasses, the thin kind, with the thin frames and he dressed in a sea captain's uniform. Omeric asked where he could find this 'Wonk'. They said down by the wharf, near pier 13; anything more than that and they couldn't help him. Omeric bought a goldfish and left.

Chapter 14

At pier thirteen Omeric took out the goldfish and looked for Wonk. He found him at The Broken Tug, a tavern at the end of the pier. When he went in he felt as if he had stepped on board some ancient sea vessel. On the walls hung all the necessary bric-a-brac required in a sea bar. On one wall hung an actual anchor complete with actual seaweed hanging from the sides. On another wall hung the portrait of some old sea captain complete with eye patch and wooden leg. Pictures of sea vessels and ocean storms hung in frames and in the middle of the room there was the mast of a sea-ship complete with crow's nest, like a pillar supporting the ceiling. Omeric was impressed; this was obviously not one of your run of the mill bars. This one had ambiance. And ambiance meant money. Whoever this Wonk was, he was someone with money.

Omeric walked up to the bar, where Wonk was seated and, placing his goldfish on the bar, sat down on the stool next to him.

"So, I hear you know a thing or two about hurkles," said Omeric.

"Maybe," says Wonk, "depends on who's asking".

"What if a cop were asking"?

"Then I might know less than he's been told," replied Wonk, looking over the rims of his eyeglasses.

"That's too bad," said Omeric taking a sip of the beverage that had been placed before him, even though he hadn't ordered it. "It would be especially bad since I've got a hurkle at the precinct uptown with no owner and no ID".

That seemed to spark some interest into Wonk. Though he did not noticeably show it. Instead of asking Omeric any more questions he called over to the drink server and ordered himself another tall one. Omeric sat there drinking his water, at least he hoped that's what it was; especially since he hadn't ordered it and the drink server was not likely to give him any drinks for free, and he was even less likely to pay for one. Besides if his hunch about this place was correct, water was about all that he could afford.

Wonk finished his drink and stood up. "If you want to find out any more about hurkles I suggest you follow me," he said and preceded to walk out.

Omeric got up and started towards the door. As he got to the door a rather large gentleman blocked his way.

"You forgot something," said the large gentleman in a deep monotone voice pointing towards the bar with his chin.

Omeric turned his head towards the bar. The drink server held up his bag holding the goldfish. Omeric walked over to the bar and took the bag.

"You looking to get rid of those fish?" asked the drink server.

"Maybe. I'm not sure just yet," replied Omeric.

"If you want I can take 'em off your hands."

"Maybe later," said Omeric smiling. He then proceeded outside of the bar and into the sunlight.

Looking around Omeric saw Wonk walking down the peer. Cursing under his breath Omeric ran to catch up with him. Wonk continued walking as Omeric caught up with him.

"Is it happy?" asked Wonk.

"What?" said Omeric.

"The hurkle. Is it happy?"

"I guess. I didn't ask it before I left the precinct"

"You a detective?"

"Yea."

"Mmm. Then use those skills they supposedly taught you and tell me if the hurkle was happy."

Omeric didn't like this guy's attitude but was he was the only lead he had. So he thought back to the hurkle sitting back at the precinct.

"Yea, it was happy."

"Good. Though you should have been able to tell me immediately that it was, even if you weren't a cop. Hurkles are deliriously happy. All the time. If a hurkle isn't happy then you know something is definitely wrong. But that's not all.

Hurkles are very special animals. A hurkle will choose one person, one place or one thing during its life and whatever or whoever the hurkle chooses it puts under its protection. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"I think so."

"I hope so. It's strange that you say that you found this hurkle without its owner and that it's still happy. I think if you want to figure out what's really going on you're going to have to depend on the hurkle."

"I was told that you know a lot about hurkles. How much do you know about hurkle owners?"

"Depends on the hurkle. They make the decision as to whom they will attach themselves to."

"I thought hurkles were expensive. What if the hurkle chooses some poor guy? What's the hurkle going to do? It can't buy its way out of the pet store."

"Of course not. Don't be an idiot. I know a lot about hurkles but not everything. What I do know is that a hurkle WILL find its owner and that they WILL get together."

"So what if the owner dies or can't be reached? What then?"

"Then the hurkle will find a new owner and don't ask me how. I don't know. They just do," replied Wonk.

"How long does it take for a hurkle to find its new owner?" asked Omeric.

"Depends," said Wonk. Turning off the pier he continued onto the beach. "Sometimes the hurkle will find its new owner immediately, other times it may take weeks, months, or years," he paused, then quietly said, "sometimes they don't find another owner and then they just die."

"Thank you. You've been a great help," said Omeric.

"Hmph," replied Wonk as he continued walking on the beach.

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