Bernie stuck the shell casing in his pocket. “Twenty-two long,” he said, “but that doesn’t rule out a handgun, Chet.” No problem. If Bernie said so then that was that. He glanced around. “Everything’s so clean and tidy. Smell anything, big guy?”
Did I smell anything? Was that the question? Where to start? First, I smelled me, of course: old leather, salt and pepper, mink coats, and just a soupçon of tomato; and to be honest, a healthy dash of something male and funky. And then Bernie, the best-smelling human male I’d ever smelled: apples, bourbon, and also salt and pepper. There were similarities in our smells, just another great thing about Bernie. The best-smelling human female was Suzie. Hey! I hadn’t seen her in ages. I kind of missed her. What was up with Bernie and Suzie? And that whole new Leda thing! Is that in To Fetch A Thief? And then there were lots of chemical smells coming from the walls, and cleaning fluid smells, and wax smells, and flower smells, and air-conditioning smells, and copper smells, and –
“Nothing?” said Bernie. “Then we’d better just start searching the place, top to bottom.”
Fine with me. Searching was a big part of the job at the Little Detective Agency. Once we found a whole bag of gold coins. How come we couldn’t keep them? I was never clear on that.
This entry was posted on Friday, June 11th, 2010 at 9:33 am and is filed under Chet The Dog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.