Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of that breed, but she sure is a beautiful dog,” Matt said. “Thanks for your time.” He kept walking until he came to a man who was sitting alone on the bench near Alvarado. He looked like he might be one of the scores of homeless people in the area, based on the ragged clothes he wore and his disheveled manner.

  Matt stopped in front of the bench and looked down at the man.

  “What are you looking at?” the man said.

  “Didn’t mean to stare,” Matt said. “I just wanted to know if I could ask you a few questions.”

  The man looked at Matt suspiciously. “What about?”

  Matt pulled the photos of Sunny from his pocket but didn’t hand them to the man. He looked like he would leave dirty prints on them. Matt held the photos up, fanning them out in his fingers. “Any chance you might have seen this dog around here recently?”

  The man looked briefly at the photos and then up at Matt. He didn’t say anything and then glanced at the photos again. “Maybe,” he said. “What’s in this for me?”

  “Five bucks,” Matt said and then waited for a reply.

  The man stared at the photos again and pointed to the one in the middle. “I seen that one in the middle.”

  “They’re all the same dog,” Matt said.

  The man licked his lips, thinking of the cheap wine he could buy for five dollars. “I mean, yeah, I seen that dog. What I meant was he was pointed the same way as in that picture when I seen him.”

  “How can you be sure it was the same dog?” Matt said.

  The man pointed at the photo. “That big brown patch on his body, it looks like a fried steak with gravy running off it. That’s how I remembered the dog. Made me hungry just to see him.”

  “And where was that?” Matt said, fishing a five dollar bill from his pocket and holding it up for the man to see.

  The man held his hand out and said nothing. Matt tore the bill in two and gave half to the man. “You get the other half when you tell me.”

  Half the bill disappeared into the man’s hand and he took one more look at the picture of the dog. “Right over there,” he said pointing to the corner of Sixth and Alvarado. “Some guy was walking him on a leash. He crossed the street and went down that way.” He pointed across Sixth Street, up Alvarado.

  “Did you see where he went after that?” Matt said.

  The man shook his head and held his hand out. Matt gave him the other half of the bill and thanked him for his time. Matt walked to the corner, waited for the light to change and crossed the street, walking north on Alvarado. He kept walking, checking yards and between houses as he walked. After two block of scanning the yards, he came up empty and crossed the street, walking back toward the park on the opposite side. He fared no better on the return trip and crossed over to the park again.

  A storefront door opened onto Alvarado and a man dashed out, running across the street between the crosswalks. He was holding his coat closed in front and almost got hit by a car before he made his way to the park. Matt watched as a black and white patrol car squealed to a stop in front of the store. There were two cops in the car. One of them hurried into the store and came back out in just a few seconds, accompanied by what looked like a store clerk, who pointed across the street toward the park.

  The running jaywalker dug something out of his coat and turned his back to the cops, obviously doing something they couldn’t see. A few seconds later Matt could see a gray and white pigeon flutter up and fly away. From where he stood he couldn’t tell if the bird was already on the sidewalk and had been scared away by the fleeing man, or if the man had released the bird. As soon as the bird took flight, the man fled with the cop on foot hot on his tail.

  The cop caught up with the man at the opposite corner, after the other cop in the patrol car cut off the fleeing man’s escape route. The foot patrolman grabbed the man and threw him up against the hood of the patrol car and slapped a pair of cuffs on his wrists. By now, Matt was able to hurry to that same corner before the suspect was read his rights and thrown into the back of the patrol car.

  Matt approached the two cops and held up his own badge and I.D. “Matt Cooper,” he told the first cop, a patrolman named Swenson. “I was watching from over there.” He pointed up the street and then gestured at the man in cuffs. “I saw this man run out of the store you just came out of. He ran this way and from where I stood, I could see him holding his coat closed as he ran.”

  Swenson pulled his prisoner’s coat open, rummaged through the pockets and came up empty. He turned to his partner. “Nothing.”

  “Like I tried to tell you,” the cuffed man said. “I didn’t take nothin’ and you can’t arrest me just for running. I can sue you for false arrest, you know.”

  Matt stepped up to Swenson and whispered something into his ear. Swenson shot a quick glance at his partner. “He might be right, Art,” Swenson said. “We’d better take this man home.”

  “That’s all right,” the man said. “Just take these cuffs off and I’ll walk home by myself.”

  “No bother at all,” Swenson said, helping the still cuffed man into the back of his patrol car. Swenson turned to Matt. “Thanks.” Swenson and his partner drove off to take their prisoner back to his house, where they were pretty sure they would find a pigeon coop in the back yard. Attached to the leg of one of this man’s pigeons, they were pretty sure they’d find the diamond ring that he’d stolen minutes earlier.

  Matt continued his search for the dog, stopping in some of the stores on Alvarado and showing the photos to the clerks. He’d walked into the fifth store on that street when he caught a break. It was a pet store that housed a whole wall of tropical fish and another wall of birds. Down the middle aisles were stacked bags of feed, pet toys, leashes, collars, beds and so on. Standing behind the register near the front door, Matt found a woman wearing a full-length apron.

  “Hi,” Matt said. “Nice store you got here. I don’t see any dogs. Do you have any in another part of the store?”

  The woman shook her head. “We only specialize in fish and birds. We do sell accessories for dogs, though. You looking for a dog for yourself?”

  Matt held out the photos of Sunny and said, “I talked to a man in the park who said he saw someone walking this dog around here recently. Have you seen this dog?”

  The woman looked at the photos and then at Matt. She nodded. “As a matter of fact I have. Just yesterday a guy brought that dog into my store and asked if I wanted to buy him. Of course, I had to tell him that we didn’t deal in dogs or cats and he just left with it a few minutes later. Something special about that dog?”

  “I have a sneaking suspicion that the dog was stolen from its rightful owner and I’d like to get him back if I can.” Matt pocketed the photos again. “Did you see which way the man went when he left here?”

  “Sorry,” the clerk said, spreading her hands and hunching her shoulders. “I didn’t pay any more attention to him once he left. You might check with Kim next door.”

  “Kim?”

  “One door to your left,” she said. “Kim runs the Korean deli. She might have noticed the man. If not, try one door to your right and ask for Violet. She owns the flower shop.”

  “I just came from there,” Matt told her. “I guess I’ll check with Kim. Thanks.” He left the pet shop and walked into the deli, the bell overhead tinkling as he entered.

  “Can I help you?” an Asian woman said when Matt entered.

  “Maybe,” Matt said. “I just talked with your neighbor at the pet shop and she suggested I come talk to you.”

  “Gail sent you over here?” she said. “Why?”

  Matt held up the photos of the missing dog and Kim took a good look at them. “Gail told me a man approached her yesterday looking to sell her this dog but she told him they don’t buy or sell dogs. When he left the pet shop he may have walked past your store and I was wondering if you might have seen him.”

  Kim nodded. “I did see him,
and I saw that dog. I remember because of that strange marking on the dog’s side.”

  “Like a steak with gravy running off it?” Matt said.

  Kim gave Matt a strange look. “What?”

  “A man in the park told me he saw this dog and he thought the markings on its side looked like a steak with gravy running off it. That’s not what you see?”

  “No,” Kim said. “To me it looked more like Beverly Hills.”

  “I’m afraid you lost me,” Matt said.

  Kim turned around and pointed to a Los Angeles map on the wall behind her counter. She pointed to the area west of Hollywood. On the mostly white map, Beverly Hills was colored pink and the outline of its boundaries did, indeed, look like those on the dog’s side.

  “I see what you mean,” Matt said. “I don’t suppose you know where that man went, do you?”

  Kim smiled and nodded. “I didn’t have any customers just then so I watched him walk past and kept watching him as he came to a car parked at the curb. He opened the back door and put the dog in and then drove off that way.” She pointed east up Sixth Street. “I kept watching him, I don’t know why, but he turned north on Alvarado and disappeared.”

  “Any chance you noticed what kind of car it was or the license number?”

  Kim shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of car it was. These American cars all look alike to me. But I did look at the license plate briefly. And I remember the number because it was one of those plates that spells something out.”

  “A vanity plate?”

  “If that’s what they’re called,” Kim said. “This one said WEAR 2 GO and I remembered thinking that he spelled ‘where’ wrong.”

  “There wasn’t enough room on the plate to spell it like it should have been,” Matt said. “You’re only allowed seven spaces so maybe he improvised. Thanks, you’ve helped me a lot.” Matt gave Kim one of his business cards. “If I can ever help you, just give me a call any time.”

  Matt crossed the street again and hurried back to his car. He dialed Lieutenant Kevin Cole.

  “Cole,” Kevin said.

  “Kevin, it’s Matt Cooper. Do you have a minute to spare?”

  “Just,” Kevin said. “I’m due in the captain’s office in five minutes. What do you need?”

  “Could you run a plate for me?”

  “What are you working on, Matt?”

  “Nothing, really,” he said. “I’m trying to run down the whereabouts of my neighbor’s lost dog and…”

  “That’s more than I need to know,” Kevin said. “Just give me the plate number.”

  Matt read off the number, spelling the words. “And the ‘to’ is actually the number two.”

  “Got it,” Kevin said. “Hold on a second. Here it is.” He read the owner’s name and address off to Matt and added, “You didn’t get this from me, understand?”

  “Thanks, Kevin,” Matt said and hung up. Before he pulled out into traffic, he called home and got his wife on the first ring. “Chris.”

  “Oh, Matt, I’m glad you called. It’s getting nuts around here.”

  “What’s going on?” Matt said.

  “It’s Bert Grimes,” Chris said. “He’s trying to get back at Jim Wainright and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Now what?” Matt said.

  “Bert’s got some big loud speaker hooked up and aimed right at Jim’s house. He’s blasting some obnoxious song right in his direction and he’s playing it over and over and I’m about to lose my mind if he doesn’t stop.”

  “Not that it matters,” Matt said, “But what’s the song he’s playing?”

  “I didn’t know at first,” Chris explained, “So I put that repetitious phrase in the Google search page and found out that it’s called Surfin’ Bird and all there is to it is the same monotonous, repetitious phrase, ‘bird, bird, bird, bird is the word,’ over and over and over. Matt you have to make him stop. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “I just want it to stop. I don’t want Bert to go to jail. Matt, please.”

  “I’ll be home in a few minutes,” Matt assured her. “I might have the answer to Jim Wainright’s problem as well.”

  Matt pulled into his driveway and was immediately struck by the thunderous volume of the speaker in the driveway next to his. Matt hurried up the walk to the Grimes’ house and knocked on the door.

  Bert Grimes opened the door and stared at Matt. “Yes? Did you want something, Matt?”

  “Down,” Matt yelled and pointed at the loud speaker outside. “Turn it down.”

  Bert shook his head and pointed across the street at the light display on Jim Wainright’s roof. It was the same flashing display of a fist flipping the bird at the Grimes house.

  Matt spotted the stereo just inside the door and noticed a wire running out to the driveway. Matt grabbed the wire and yanked until it ripped loose from the speaker cabinet. The racket ceased immediately and Matt ears rang. “Have you lost your mind, Bert?” Matt said. “Chris didn’t call the police, but someone else is sure to if you don’t knock it off.”

  “What about him?” Bert said, point across the street. “He’s back at it again. Am I just supposed to sit here and take it? I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

  “Let me ask you something, Bert,” Matt began. “How’s Delores’s business coming along? Is she still making a lot of sales for those hats she makes?”

  “What does that have to do with that asshole across the street?”

  “Hear me out, Bert,” Matt said. “How’s Delores doing with her business?”

  “Pretty good, I guess. Why?”

  “What does she call her business? Does it have an official name?”

  Bert held up one hand. “Matt.”

  “Just answer the question,” Matt said. “What is the name of her business?”

  “Wait a minute,” Bert said. “She’s got a card here somewhere. It’s easier than me trying to explain the double meaning.” Bert rooted around in a desk drawer and came out with a card, handing it to Matt.

  Matt looked at the card and read aloud, “Ware 2 Go – Custom Hats by Delores.” Matt handed the card back to Bert and then pulled his notepad out of his pocket, flipped it open to something he’d written just fifteen minutes earlier and held it up so Bert could read it.

  Matt watched as Bert read what Matt had written, his lips moving as he read. “Ware 2 Go,” Bert said, somewhat puzzled. He looked up at Matt. “What’s this all about?”

  “Bert,” Matt began. “I just came from a couple of stores over on Wilshire near MacArthur Park and you know what I found? I found a woman who runs a pet shop who told me that a man had been in her shop just yesterday trying to sell her a dog. And the woman at the deli next door saw that same man walk past her shop with that dog on a leash. She also saw that man get into a car with that dog. She also took note of that car’s license plate number.” Matt held the note pad up again and wiggled it back and forth. “This was the plate number—your plate number.”

  “Delores’s, actually,” Bert said. He was beginning to turn red now with embarrassment. “Now what?”

  “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused?” Matt said. “Look at all the stress you and Wainright have put on your neighbors, Chris included.” Matt folded the note pad shut and returned it to his pocket. “Now what? Now you’re going to give Jim his dog back and apologize to him, that’s what. Unless, of course, you want me to tell Lieutenant Cole why I wanted him to look up the owner to the license plate I got from the deli owner. Bert, why’d you do it?”

  “You have to understand, Matt,” Bert began. “Wainright wasn’t doing anything to shut that damned dog up. He’d just leave it out there in the pen barking all day. I couldn’t take it anymore. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “And where is the dog now?” Matt asked.

  “I’ve got him,” Bert said. “He’s locked in my uncle’s barn out where he can’t disturb anyone. When
I couldn’t sell him, I just decided to lock him in the barn until I could think of a better solution.”

  “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” Matt said. “As I see it, you have two choices, and I think you know what choice number two involves.”

  “The police?”

  “Yes, so I’d strongly suggest you go with choice number one.”

  “Which is?”

  “Which is, I go get the dog and bring him back to Jim Wainright, telling him that the dog ran away and that I was able to find him through lots of fancy foot work. Hell, he may even apologize to you before this is over. Although, if I was you, I’d feel mighty strange about letting him do that, seeing as how it was you who stole the dog in the first place.”

  “But he does owe me an apology,” Bert said. “He’s the one who should apologize for letting his dog bark non-stop and for putting up that bird-flipping light display.”

  “And you would owe him an apology for stealing his dog and for blasting that speaker at his house,” Matt said. “I’d call it a draw and you can both apologize to each other and get on with your lives.”

  Bert thought about his options for a moment and then offered, “Let’s go with option one, Matt. And as far as the apologies go, how would you feel about setting up a meeting with the two of us, so neither of us has to make the first move?”

  “And you’ll stop all this childish revenge?”

  Bert nodded.

  “Tell me where I can find Jim’s dog,” Matt said. “I’ll bring it back and you won’t even have to be involved.”

  “Thanks, Matt. Thanks a lot.” He gave Matt directions to the farm where Sonny was being held prisoner in the barn.

  “Now put that loud speaker away and stay inside until I get back with the dog.”

  Matt left Bert standing there in his living room as he stepped next door to soothe Chris’s nerves. He gave her a condensed version of the story and told her he’d be back as soon as he delivered Jim Wainright’s dog to him and squared things between Jim and Bert.

  An hour later Matt returned from Bert’s uncle’s farm with Sunny in his back seat. He parked the car in his driveway, grabbed Sunny’s leash and led him back across the street to the Wainright house. Jim Wainright must have been watching from his front room window because Matt wasn’t even halfway across the street when Jim’s front door opened and he rushed outside to greet his dog.