Antony looked away and fought a small whimper that wanted to well up through his constricted throat. There had been times – far too many, he thought now – when he had been impatient and sharp with Arnold, when he had thought the older dog too soft on law breakers. In time, he had become more tolerant, if only because things usually worked out for the better if he let Arnold follow his nose, but he had never come to respect that intuitive part of Arnold’s nature. He abruptly stood and resumed his trek down the alley, Arnold trailing silently.
They passed through the shopping enclave’s cavernous parking structure – made to seem even bigger by the small number of cars occupying the ground floors – ignoring the aromas emanating from the nearby Marie Callender’s and Fuddruckers restaurants, neither of which, oddly enough, had ever been as popular with ferals and strays as the fish joint.
Despite their earlier desire for some chow before getting back on the trail of Slim Shady, food was now the furthest thing from both dogs’ minds. Perhaps later the mundane concerns of life would reassert themselves in their consciousness, but now their stomachs seemed to seethe as tumultuously as their minds. They exited the structure and came to a grassy knoll at the westernmost limit of the condos, a quiet place overlooking the expanse of Memorial Park, difficult for anyone to approach without being seen while providing cover for them. They settled across from each other, assuming what is known in the canine world as the Sphinx Position, an alert stance that could be maintained indefinitely without incurring fatigue.
“Someone wanted badly to get us out of the picture,” Antony remarked. Though still upset by what had transpired, his inner turmoil had settled to the point where the his keen investigative mind could function dispassionately. “Perhaps desperately.”
“Boris!” Arnold snarled.
Antony tilted his head in deep thought. “He certainly played a role, a critical one since he ensured we were not around when the evidence was planted, then linked us to it, but do you really think he could have done it by himself? All on his own idea? Did he ever impress you as being that smart?”
“Smart?” Arnold shook his head. “Sneaky and sly enough to put it over, yeah…but smart? I don’t know him that well…”
“Don’t know anyone who does.”
“No one wants to,” Arnold said.
“To me, he does not seem smart.”
“Not at all smart,” Arnold agreed.
“You know I’m no purist, but there is something…something unnatural about a jackal-dog hybrid, something that is just wrong at a fundamental level.”
“We’re not all that distant from them, physically speaking…”
“Else they wouldn’t be able to breed.”
“…but as far as mindset we might as well be talking about sharks or snakes,” Arnold finished.
“Good comparison,” Antony remarked.
“I don’t even know what a Sulimov is doing outside Russia,” Arnold added. “I thought we didn’t let those into the country.”
“No, Russia doesn’t let them out,” Antony corrected. “But if we can agree Boris is not bright enough to be alone in this, then who is the motivator?”
“Someone else on the force?”
“I’d hate to think that.”
“Yeah, they’re all good dogs,” Arnold agreed. “Even Hector, though I think he took all too much glee in our misfortune.”
“That could be more me than us,” Antony pointed out.
“Could it be Captain Reese?” Arnold suggested.
“He is still rather new on the job, and none of us really know him that well,” Antony said. “But I’d hate to think it true. It would be a disaster for the Unit because he is the alpha’s alpha.”
“I really don’t think it would be him.”
“Oh?”
“There are too many ways he could get rid of us or break us up as a team if he wanted to,” Arnold pointed out. “And none of it would involve stolen meat or a slaughtered cat.”
“Yeah, but he might be a useful tool.”
Arnold frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What is the Captain’s most dominant trait?”
“You mean, his passion for order?” Arnold said. “His desire to keep all his dogs in line? That’s the German Shepherd strain at its best, and worst…seeing everyone in need of being herded, getting all his dogs in a row. Look how he handles kennel inspections.”
“So, if two dogs are set up to look like a disturbance to his sense of order…”
“I see what you mean,” Arnold said. “But who is not the biggest question here, is it?”
“You mean, the why of it?”
“Yes. There has to be a reason.”
“And it has to profit some dog somehow.”
“It has to be because of some case we’re on, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe not.”
Arnold tilted his head in confusion and pricked up his ears.
“What would be the point of getting us off a case?” Antony asked. “After all, it would be assigned to someone else, and if we were close to a solution, then they might get there too. What to do then? Another set-up? The other dogs might get suspicious.”
“If not a case…”
“Well, we’re always sniffing around on our own looking for wrongdoing, aren’t we?”
Arnold nodded.
“Most leads go nowhere,” Antony admitted. “The rest of the Unit usually does not know what we have going on outside our assignments. We follow mysteries, rumors and whispers.”
“It’s true,” Arnold admitted. “None of the other teams look for trouble like we do.”
“There are the dogs that howl in the night on the waterfront,” the Cane Corso suggested. “We’ve never figured out what that’s all about. Or why delivery trucks break down on Fourth between three and five in the morning. The rumors of that mystery animal seen in the Castle Park area. All the various gangs. The attacks on warehouse guard dogs down in Otay along Main. There are so many things that we hear about, some that we sniff around, and very few that actually rise to the level of an assigned case. It could be any of them, or we might be barking up the wrong tree.”
“What about Slim Shady?” Arnold asked.
Antony cocked his head. “What about Slim Shady?”
“Could him breaking into a house, stealing things and biting the companions have something to do with it?” Arnold suggested.
“I don’t think it has anything to with anything,” Antony said. “I doubt now whether he did any of what he was accused.”
“But he’s the reason we were sent out,” Arnold protested.
“And you heard what Sergeant Rex told us,” Antony replied. “That was why no one believed us when we tried to claim Boris sent us out to take Slim Shady to the Shelter.”
“That is exactly what he did do though.”
“Yeah, he did,” Antony agreed. “But as soon as we pulled Slim Shady into the story they assumed we were lying. Sergeant Rex is the best judge of character I know, but even he backed off from us when we mentioned Slim Shady.”
“The Captain wouldn’t let him into the kennels.”
“Rex would have asked too many questions.”
“Upset the orderliness of the hearing.”
“We should have seen the same thing,” Antony said.
“About Slim Shady?”
“As soon as Boris started in on the many sins of Slim Shady I should have know something was amiss,” Antony said.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Antony,” Arnold told his partner. “I don’t know about you, but when Boris started in ordering us around, harping on what Slim Shady had done, going on in that fast patter of his, with an annoying accent, and those jagged laughs he always throws in when he starts talking fast…”
“Yeah, he had me so addled, I guess I didn’t stop to think how wrong it all sounded,” Antony admitted. “Slim Shady is a lamb.”
“But Boris was right about where we would find Slim Shady,�
�� Arnold pointed out. “It lent a sense of truth to his claims.”
“And it did not help that Slim Shady rabbited when we came upon him,” Antony said. “If he had done nothing wrong, he should have stayed where he was. He could not know we had been ordered to escort him to the Shelter. If he was not guilty, he should not have run off like he did. He played right into Boris’ paws.”
Arnold sighed. “He might have run because he was scared.”
“I suppose so,” Antony grumbled. “I wouldn’t have run.”
“Not everyone is as fearless as you,” Arnold said. “Especially a Whippet, and especially a Whippet like Slim Shady, who has had so many bad things happen to him.”
“When bad things happen, you have to face up to them,” the Cane Corso asserted. “That’s the way you become stronger. If you give in to fear, you’ll always be weak, nothing but a victim.”
“Sometimes you should listen to yourself as others hear you,” Arnold suggested. “Put yourself into their collar, so to speak.”
“I’ve never been good at that.”
Arnold nodded. “So I have noticed.”
“You see that as a weakness?”
“Yes.”
Antony thought about it a moment. “I’ve always been good at telling when a dog is lying to me or trying to hide something, but I never understand what they feel. Maybe that was how Boris was able to snooker me so completely.”
“He might be a better liar than you are a detective.”
“Maybe.”
“Why Slim Shady?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he could have sent us off on any kind of snipe hunt if the goal was merely to get out of the station while the evidence was being planted,” Arnold explained.
“I suppose so,” Antony admitted.
“So, why send us to put Slim Shady out of circulation?” Arnold persisted. “Once in the Shelter, no one would ever hear from him again, even if he was adopted.”
“It does seem to be a rule of paw that when dogs get adopted, they never end up anywhere near their old neighborhoods,” Antony said. “And if they don’t get adopted…”
“No one would ever talk to him – dogs and cats do their best to keep clear of Shelters.”
“With good reason.”
“Boris wanted us out of the way for awhile,” Arnold mused, “but he wanted Slim Shady out of the picture for good.”
“We still need to question Slim Shady,” Antony said. “Though now for a different reason than before.”
“So we head back to Fifth Avenue and hope he has not been moved,” Arnold suggested.
“No!” Antony said quickly and sharply, as if someone had jabbed him with an electric prod. “We’re not going to do that!”
“That was what we were going to do before everything fell to pieces,” Arnold reminded Antony. “Now that Slim Shady has come back into play, why not go back to our original plan?”
“No!”
“What’s the matter, Antony?”
Antony glared at Arnold.
“Oh,” Arnold said as understanding washed over him.
“I am not going to give those three dogs, not to mention their cat buddies, the satisfaction of seeing me like this,” Antony growled. He lowered his gaze. “I could not take their ridicule.”
“I don’t think they would do that.”
“What about Yoda?” Antony demanded. “He has a smart yap.”
“Not if Levi told him not to,” Arnold replied. “And I know Miss Sunny would not give us any grief…there’s too much kindness in her heart.”
“You’re assuming Levi would keep everyone under control,” Antony said. “I am not sure he would.”
“If you really knew Levi, you’d know he doesn’t take pleasure from anyone else’s pain,” Arnold said. “He’s had too much pain in his own life to enjoy seeing it in the lives of others. It’s why he does what he does, why he formed the Three Dog Detective Agency.”
“What do you mean?” Antony demanded. “He’s nothing more than another pampered pet; he’s never been a work dog, never been of any use to society, other than as a busybody.”
After a long silence, Arnold asked: “Have you ever noticed that bare patch on his throat where fur doesn’t grow?”
“I’m not sure,” Antony admitted. “I think so.”
“It’s not easy to see because of his collar, and Levi does his best to keep it from being obvious,” Arnold said. “He does not like to talk about it, so he tries to keep others from asking questions.”
“What’s it from?”
“When he was a pup he was put into a gladiatorial compound.”
“What?” Antony murmured softly.
“He was used as a bait dog, to teach other dogs how to fight,” Arnold explained. “When he was not being used as a chew toy by Rottweilers and Pit Bulls he was chained to an iron stake, with the chain digging into the soft flesh of his throat. It left his throat all scarred and bloody, which whipped the other dogs into a frenzy and made them try to kill him all the more. The scars have healed, but the fur never grew back, which is why he wears a collar that would be a better fit on a larger dog.”
“How do you know this?”
“Miss Sunny told me,” And then he added: “In confidence, so don’t tell anyone or mention it to Levi. He doesn’t want sympathy.”
“But he’s just a little fellow, if you overlook those legs of his,” Antony said. “As a puppy…”
“He was even smaller then, not much over five pounds.”
“Tiny.”
“Malnourished and brutalized.”
“How did he survive?”
“He fought back, refused to submit,” Arnold continued. “Do you recall the interviews we conducted with the captive dogs from that illegal fighting school we busted? They told us about the way Levi and the others of the Three Dog Detective Agency fought when young Stacker fell into the compound, and then later, when Levi was put into the arena?”
Antony nodded. “I didn’t believe them.” He paused. “I knew they were not lying, but I considered them unreliable witnesses.”
“No, from what Miss Sunny told me later, their accounts were pretty much on the mark,” Arnold said. “If anything, they did not tell the whole story because they were frightened…excited…what have you. He learned every fighting move he could – that was how he managed to hold his own till he was rescued from that place.”
“He doesn’t look much like a fighter,” Antony murmured as he though of all the times he and Levi had stood muzzle to muzzle. “He doesn’t act like one either, though he does have spirit. I will give him that much.”
“He came out of the experience in better shape than I would have, I think,” Arnold said.
Antony looked at his friend dubiously. “You’re a strong dog.”
“It’s not a matter of physical strength, and not merely a matter of survival,” Arnold explained. “A lot of dogs from that compound survived, but ended up in the Shelter because they were too messed up in the head to go anyplace else…and I think some of them were too far gone to stay at the Shelter, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I do,” Antony admitted.
“We should go over and see the Three Dog Detective Agency,” Arnold decided. “I know they will help us.”
“No.”
“Even if Slim Shady is not there, they can still help us.”
“No,” Antony said decisively. “I don’t want their help, I don’t want their scorn, and I don’t want their pity. As far as I am concerned, I never want to see those three dogs again.”
“Then you had better not look behind you,” Arnold said.
Chapter 5
“Great Anubis!” Antony exclaimed as he looked back and saw Levi, Sunny and Yoda entering Memorial Park from Third Avenue. “What are they doing here?”
“We could ask them,” Arnold suggested, suppressing a smile at Antony’s exclamation. He had never known the Cane Corso to use eithe
r Anubis or First Dog in an epithet before. Perhaps there was some hope for the younger dog yet.
Antony stood and quickly took shelter behind a cluster of large ornamental boulders. Arnold also stood, but hesitated, glancing at the trio of dogs. He fought the urge to throw aside his pride and run down to them, to tell them what had happened and ask for their help. Then he looked at his partner watching them from undercover, rooted to where he crouched by a mixture of pride, shame and fear. It was in their best interest to ask for help, but he could not abandon Antony, could not leave him to face his demons alone.
“Did they see us?” Antony asked as Arnold joined him behind the boulders.
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe Slim Shady is at their house alone now,” Antony said. “If we low-crawl down the backside of this knoll we can get away unseen and question Slim Shady without their interference.”
“I doubt he’s still there,” Arnold said. “They would not leave him alone knowing that we were coming back, and they have no reason to think that we won’t come back.”
“Yeah, they could not know what…” Antony shook his head. “I am not thinking straight. Normally I would be leaps and bounds ahead of the game, linking clue to clue, and certainly not saying stupid things.”
“It’s hard to concentrate,” Arnold admitted. “Hard to think in a logical and doglike manner.”
“Yeah,” Antony agreed. “It’s harder when you’re on the inside trying to fight your way out than when you’re on the outside looking in…” He paused. “And judging dogs for being emotional.”
“Like I said,” Arnold murmured, “in another dog’s collar.”
“They’re splitting up, making their way through the park.”
“Looking for clues,” Arnold surmised.
“Clues for what?”
“To the same mystery we’re trying to unravel,” Arnold replied.
“How can that be?” Antony demanded. “How can they…”
“You should keep your voice down, Antony,” Arnold said. “Remember all the times you compared Yoda’s ears to radar dishes? Well, you were not far wrong.”
K-9 Blues Page 7