The Spotted Dog

by Kerry Greenwood

  Letty White looked anything but pleased, and addressed us as follows: ‘Yes, Corinna, I get that you didn’t call me personally because you didn’t want to break in upon my virtuous slumbers. But, as you doubtless have guessed by now, anything connected with these home invasions – and Related Matters – have a tag on the system that says I am to be contacted immediately, at any hour of the day or night. I am very happy to have caught our little friend. I suppose it’s too much to ask that you refrained from questioning the prisoner?’

  I looked at Daniel, who returned my cool glance with one even more temperate. ‘I may have asked him a few things. After all, this is Corinna’s apartment. I think she is entitled to know what he was looking for at least, if only so that we can attempt to persuade him, and the people he works for, that we haven’t got it and that they’re wasting their time.’

  Letty glared at me and ran her hands through her close-cropped hair. ‘Jesus wept!’ she grated through clenched teeth. ‘Yes, under normal circumstances, Daniel, perhaps! But do you think these are anything like normal circumstances? Do you?’ She spun around on her police-issue flat heel and impaled me with an acetylene glare. I shook my head silently, unwilling to say anything more in case of self-incrimination. The kettle announced itself, and she inclined her chin downwards. ‘Earl Grey, if you’ve got it. Milk, one sugar, please.’

  I leapt to my feet, only too anxious to Assist the Police with tea-making. I made four mugs and we sipped them quietly, Letty and Helen joining us at the table. Finally she set down her mug and gave us both a long, forbidding look. ‘Corinna. Daniel. These are not nice people to know. You do not mess with these folks. If I have your promise that you won’t go anywhere near them, or their friends and neighbours, or anyone they’ve ever met since they left primary school, then I will be a far happier person than I currently am. Do I have your word?’

  I smiled winningly at her. ‘Actually, Letty, I do have another job on tomorrow, so I’ll be far too busy with that to go after home invaders.’

  ‘Really? And what job would that be?’

  ‘I’m looking for a lost dog.’

  Daniel’s eyes sparkled for a moment, and the merest echo of a smile twitched the corners of his adorably kissable mouth. My mind raced. Had we told Letty anything at all about Alasdair and Geordie? I couldn’t remember doing so.

  Letty’s hypnotic eyes held ours for long, dragging moments. We radiated innocent helpfulness.

  ‘I see,’ she said, her tone laced liberally with scepticism. ‘A lost dog.’

  ‘Yes.’ Daniel drained his cup and put it on the table. ‘There’s a bloke staying with me who’s lost his dog and we’ve been looking for him.’

  ‘That’s why I went on the Soup Run last night,’ I put in. ‘To see if anyone had heard anything.’

  She frowned horribly. ‘To see if anyone had heard anything. Right. Fine. Now, before I leave, Daniel, I would like to know what you can tell us about your unauthorised interrogation.’

  ‘Sure. Let’s see. His name’s Narek; he works for a group of scary people whom he won’t name – at least to me – but I rather suspect that we are looking at Petrosian and Associates, that well-known firm of pharmaceutical suppliers.’ He glanced at the detective to see if this produced any reaction.

  She merely nodded. ‘Go on, Daniel. I’m sure you found out more than that.’

  ‘Why he keeps breaking in here is still unclear. He wouldn’t tell me outright, but I’m sure he’s visited twice: once here and once at Professor Monk’s. All he said was: “We’re looking for the Holy Thing.” And I’m afraid none of us has any idea what it is.’

  ‘Could it be Professor Monk’s Dead Sea Scroll, or whatever it is?’

  ‘Maybe. But I really don’t know.’

  ‘And do any of you here have any other Holy Things you’re not telling me about?’

  ‘No, we really don’t,’ I assured her. ‘We don’t do Holy Things here. At least, not things that would interest Armenian crime gangs. So, if it isn’t the Professor’s scroll, then I have absolutely no idea at all what they’re after.’

  ‘So you’re going to look for a lost dog instead. Fine. Just don’t get in my way tomorrow. Or any other day.’ She stood up. ‘One day you are going to go too far. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. No, I’ll let myself out.’

  And with that she was gone.

  Daniel lifted his hand, took mine, and led me decorously back to bed.

  Philomela: Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord? Maybe. Or not.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,

  and vice sometimes by action dignified

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO AND JULIET, ACT 2, SCENE 3

  I awoke, blinking sleepily and fashionably late, and inhaled the unexpected scent of Jamaica lime and – something else. Blood orange? I believe I had one of these new allegedly green planet cleaners in my cupboard. It appeared that all the chemistry nerds of Australia had banded together to devise new organic cleaners and sell them to supermarkets under the proud heading of 100% Australian Owned and Sourced. I was only too happy to give them custom. I guessed Daniel had been up before me, and was overlaying the distressing odours of essence du burglar with something less obnoxious. It certainly was an improvement. I also detected sounds and smells of plunger coffee, poached eggs and fried zebra. I stretched my toes in sensual luxury and opened my eyes fully, to see Horatio stretched out in lordly splendour across my queen-sized bed. I stroked his cheeks and flanks. He was purring in noisy ecstasy, but did not bother to open his eyes.

  I emerged to see Daniel already dressed for the day’s work in dark blue jeans and a short-sleeved shirt in a fetching shade of light grey. He grinned at me and waved me to my chair. A tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, with ice, and a plate of large-yolked eggs from contented hens with two gleaming rashers of fried zebra, two Cumberland sausages and half a tomato, all laid over my very own toasted bread (from Friday). I leant over the brimming table and kissed him.

  We ate in companionable silence until Horatio emerged, sleepy-eyed and enquiring. I placed munchies in his bowl and he curled his tail around his front paws, crouched down and addressed his attention to the amenities of the moment. My beloved finished his own plate, placed it in the sink and resumed his seat.

  I looked at him. ‘Well, my beloved, what is the plan for today? Is it D-day?’ I wanted to know. ‘Are we going in?’

  He grinned.

  ‘And do please note my restraint in failing to cross-examine you last night,’ I added. ‘I hope you made notes.’

  He took my hand and kissed it. ‘Yes, today is the day. My reconnaissance as an unreal estate agent was very useful, and so was my chat with Narek – who, it transpires, was one of the dognappers. I know, or believe I know, where Geordie is. Though I am going to visit Uncle Solly one last time before we go in – I want to ask him about the Petrosians.’

  ‘Have they got Geordie?’ I stared at Daniel, bewildered. ‘But why? I could understand wanting a dog to sniff out drugs, but why would they need him for that? They’re dealers! They know where the drugs are, surely?’ I shook my head in frustration. ‘Nothing about this case makes any sense!’

  Daniel leant back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. ‘I was quite wrong about that. They didn’t want him for sniffing out drugs at all.’

  ‘Well? Were they going to enter him in a dog show? Don’t keep me in suspense!’

  He shook his head. ‘Explosives. They knew Geordie was an army dog, and they think a rival gang intends to blow up their headquarters. They’ve done it before.’

  I exhaled. ‘Well, that does make some sort of sense. Would it work?’

  ‘I don’t know. Army dogs don’t freelance, and the Petrosians won’t know any of the correct commands. If Geordie did detect explosives, he might let them know. Or he might not. Narek thinks they’re safe from being blown up. But they may not be.’

  ‘Oh, goo
d. So we’re trying to burgle a house which may blow up. And did the Petrosians kill Philomela’s sister, or was that the opposition?’ Outrage was causing my voice to tremble.

  He squeezed my hand briefly. ‘Narek says not, but I don’t know for sure. They may have. If they did, Narek wasn’t involved. He is just a small tropical fish in a think-tank of sharks. His uncle Tigran is the mastermind.’

  ‘All right.’ My wrath subsided, without disappearing. ‘So what time do you think? Late at night? Not too late, please, I have to bake in the morning.’

  He patted my arm. ‘No. They’ll be more alert at night. Today’s going to be hot. I’d say mid-afternoon would be best.’

  ‘And what, if I may ask, is the plan? We drop in to a heavily guarded fortress, knock on the door and ask if we can have our doggie back?’

  ‘Well, no. But I did pay attention on my visits. These palatial dwellings all look very impressive from the street …’

  ‘More front than Myers?’

  ‘Oh yes. And if it’s the house I think it is, it’s a fortress all right. Iron bars, high walls, twin surveillance cameras, probably overlapping fields of fire. There’s an intercom grille set into the brick pillar there, and I suspect entry is by password only. Around the back, however …’

  ‘You were able to see around the back?’

  ‘I managed to sneak around and get a decent look. They have a double block, and the trouble with that, of course, is that there’s another street entrance leading to their back door.’

  ‘Which isn’t so extensively fortified?’

  ‘Well, no. If there are cameras, I couldn’t see them. There’s a steel door with a combination lock and a three-metre brick wall. We could conceivably climb the wall, but I don’t think we’ll need to do that. I’m not joking, Corinna. The headquarters of most of these crime lords is bristling with security at the front, but that’s mainly for show. So we’re going to lurk in the bushes nearby and wait for someone to come out the back for a smoke or to accept a delivery. And if that doesn’t work, I do have other plans. But first I’m going to double-check with Uncle Solly, who will warn me against doing what I intend to do, but there it is. The one thing we don’t need is mistaken identity.’

  ‘Because mistaken identity has already killed one girl and crippled another.’

  ‘Quite. I’ll pick you up at three o’clock this afternoon. Come dressed for sudden flight if necessary.’

  ‘Are you sure I won’t be in the way?’

  ‘No, I want you there.’ He leant closer and kissed me again. ‘The problem is that we don’t have any means of knowing what we will find there. What if there’s a woman guarding the dog? In that event, you will have to talk to her. She is likely to be alarmed by a strange man and cry for help, whereas she might be disarmed by another woman.’

  I kissed him back, and resumed my seat as he strode purposefully from my apartment. My clock announced that it was just after eleven am. And I resolved, on a whim, to talk to Jon in distant Laos. Since we were definitely dealing with Armenians, Jon might know something. He had had an Armenian boyfriend once, I seemed to recall. Laos was three hours behind Melbourne, so he might be having breakfast still.

  I sat down at my computer, stared at the white letter S in a pale blue cloud, and clicked on it. Ah, but what password had I chosen? I tried bakery, insula and corinna, none of which appeared to be satisfactory. Inspiration struck. I typed in BosworthJumbles. Success! Three messages from my parents, none of any consequence. In case there might be persons with cultural sensibilities watching me, I picked up a plain black scarf and tied it around my hair. You never knew. I clicked on Jon’s icon. Nothing happened for a little while, and suddenly there he was. I broadened the screen and he grinned at me.

  ‘Good morning, Corinna. What a pleasant surprise. I was just finishing breakfast.’

  ‘Are you free for a little chat? And are you okay? You keep freezing on me.’

  He laughed. ‘Unlikely in this weather. Though it’s not really hot yet. And yes, I can spare all the time you need.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I hope the other guy is more injured than you are? That’s a serious pair of black eyes.’

  ‘Oh yes. He has been chastised.’

  ‘Good. Now, when you say freezing, do you mean my image stops and starts?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a bit disconcerting. Am I doing the same for you?’

  ‘Nothing to worry about. It’s just your third-world internet. Whereas here in Laos we can get proper first-world speeds.’ We grinned at each other. In his case it was stop-motion. I half expected to see Wallace and Gromit waving from behind him. Don’t start me about our botched National Broadband Network. His white shirt was spotted with perspiration already. His powerful chest and shoulders looked formidable, and his biceps bulged impressively. Yet that wasn’t really what struck you about Jon. It was more the calm self-assurance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted to do, and did it.

  ‘So what’s been happening in your life, Corinna?’

  I told him all. It took some time. Usually he had a superb deadpan, but my story really did make his jaw drop. When I reached the end of my peroration, I watched him thinking hard. Finally, he clasped his hands on the table in front of him.

  ‘I’m a bit apprehensive about this, Corinna. Yes, I’ve heard of the Petrosians. They have a branch office just down the road from here.’

  I gaped. ‘Really? What’s there for them? It isn’t opium country, is it?’

  ‘There’re a few plantations further up in the hills. But the Petrosians deal more in ice and what they would like their clients to believe is ecstasy but is actually industrial solvents cut with rat poison.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘Well, yes. They have an established network. And some of their neighbours would like to muscle in on the racket.’

  I looked carefully at him. ‘Are these the Azeris?’

  His eyes widened. ‘Yes. I’m surprised you know about them. They’re the new kids on the block. And they fight dirty.’

  ‘Dirtier than rat poison?’

  He laughed and shook his head, again in stop-motion. ‘Oh yes. The Armenians are like the Salvation Army compared with the Azeris. But …’ He paused. ‘Corinna, this looks a bit outré, even by the exotic standards of Insula. You said there was a phrase you couldn’t identify? Can you remember what it was? It’s been a long time since I spoke any Armenian, but try me.’

  ‘Don’t forget I didn’t hear it myself; I’ve only got what Alasdair said. But he said it sounded like vorteh nizaky. Does that mean anything to you?’

  ‘Could it have been: Vortegh nizaky?’

  ‘I suppose so. What does that mean?’

  ‘It means: “Where is the spear?”’

  I sat back in my chair. Crestfallen doesn’t even begin to cover it. My crest was so far down it was rolling in the gutter. ‘Jon, that makes no sense.’

  He stared at the ceiling for a while. Kepler brought him a cup of something hot, and they had a short conversation. I sat where I was. At this point I was waiting for a miracle. I watched him take a sip of something pale in an earthenware cup, then place the cup carefully on the wooden table. He folded his hands and leant forward. ‘Corinna, when did this fragmentary conversation happen?’

  ‘When Geordie was being dognapped.’

  ‘And you’re certain that the dognappers are the same people who’ve been burgling Insula so indefatigably?’

  ‘As sure as we can be. The burglar was so terrified he soiled my apartment. I think he was telling us the truth.’

  ‘And it was Dion Monk’s apartment they burgled first?’

  ‘Yes. But he doesn’t have any spears. Jon, why would they be looking for a spear?’

  His lips curved, showing his shiny, regular teeth. ‘What if they thought he had the Lance of Longinus? I think that would be worth looking for.’ Jon began to recite, from memory. His eyes seemed to be looking at vast distances of time. I had no idea he could recite the Bible from memory
but then, he’s full of surprises.

  ‘St John’s Gospel, chapter nineteen. But one of the soldiers with a spear pierced His side, and forthwith came there out blood and water. And he that saw it bare record, and his record is true: and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye might believe. For these things were done, that the scripture should be fulfilled, a bone of him shall not be broken.’

  I suppose my mouth must have fallen open. I closed it tightly. I was remembering the book I had been reading in Cafe Delicious. The Spear of Destiny. And with a vast sense of astonishment I remembered my fugitive sensation of having met Narek before.

  Jon was watching me carefully. ‘Corinna? What is it? You look as though you’re having a light-globe moment.’

  ‘I really am. And now I finally understand something which has been bothering me all along: why on earth our little friend should have chosen my apartment to burgle after he’d drawn a blank at Dion Monk’s.’

  ‘I was wondering that myself. Why you indeed?’

  ‘When we caught him and I finally saw his face, I had the strangest feeling I’d met him before. And I think I have. I was sitting in Cafe Delicious, reading a book. Ever since Dion Monk started doing his biblical research, I thought I’d do some background reading myself – just so I could understand what he was talking about, more than anything. So I was reading a book called The Spear of Destiny in the cafe, and I had the sense that somebody was staring at me. I had a glimpse of him as he was leaving, but I didn’t make the connection with the ninja in my apartment. I mean, why would I? But it was Narek. I’m certain of it now. He saw me reading the book, so he thought I must have it if Dion Monk didn’t.’

  ‘That would make sense.’

  ‘But why does he think either of us would have it?’