Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Albie Rose’

Chez Nous

What I wanted to do, and pretty badly, was grab Foster by the pant leg. It was pretty clear to me by now that he had to be a perp, but if he was an FBI dude, then how was that possible? One idea was to just grab him by the pant leg anyway and let things get sorted out later. I couldn’t think of another idea. But sometimes all it takes is one idea, or not even. This is all happening at our place on Mesquite Road, in case anybody needs reminding. I know I would.

“You’re saying all that about you having worked for Albie for years was just a lot of blowing smoke?” Bernie said.

“Albie was a hooked fish,” Foster said. “He said what he was told to say.”

“And what did you hook him for?” Bernie said.

“That’s a long story,” Foster said. He turned to Ray. “Which maybe the kid shouldn’t hear. Not unless I take him in, and this may not be the time.

Ray started backing toward the door.

Jawing

“FBI?” Bernie said.

Foster nodded.

FBI? I remembered an FBI dude named Ernest who Bernie called Deadly Ernest. What a case that was! Although actually the details are vague, except for when we found ourselves chasing a perp through the kitchen of a famous steakhouse. Bernie said they’ve reopened now, but it’s not likely we’re going back.

“You’re asking me to believe you spent years working undercover for Albie Rose?” Bernie said. “The FBI does some wacky things, but not that wacky.”

“Aw, come on, Bernie,” Foster said. “You’re a smart guy. You must have figured out that Albie said whatever I told him to say.”

What that was all about I leave to you. But I didn’t like the tone of Foster’s voice. We’re very sensitive to that in the nation within the nation. I got this sudden urge to bite. Hard to explain: it’s like this force I feel in my jaw muscles, a powerful force and hard to deny.

Cages

Lt. Stine got off the phone. “That was Vegas PD,” he said to Bernie. “They confirm you reported the Albie Rose homicide.”

Bernie nodded. He’s a great nodder, had all sorts of nods. This one meant … not sure what, but he wasn’t happy.

“But over the phone and kind of lacking in detail,” said Lt. Stine. “They want to talk to you.”

“Happy to talk to them,” Bernie said.

“Like now,” said Lt. Stine. “They suggested I detain you.”

Detain? Didn’t know that one, but for some reason I started thinking about this cage down in Mexico – is that in To Fetch A Thief? The next thing I knew I was pretty close to Lt. Stine.

“Hey!” he said. “Is Chet growling at me? What the hell? I thought we were friends, big guy.”

Me, too.

Plundering On

“I’ve got a few questions for Ratko Savic,” Bernie said. We were back in that abandoned housing development, Cactus Heights. Bernie went over the questions, kind of hard to follow, something about Astrid knowing Ratko, maybe, or possibly Foster knowing Ratko. And did Albie come up? Tulip? No sense worrying about all that.

Bernie glanced around. “There are so many of these godforsaken places these days. How’s the economy ever going to turn around with all this emptiness?” The economy – was that like our finances? They were a mess. If I haven’t mentioned the Hawaiian pants episode, I’ll do it now. And who could forget the tin futures?

We got out of the car, started walking from house to house. Lots of scraps blew around and weeds grew through the cracked pavements of the driveways. “Ratko’s not doing much of a job when it comes to caretaking,” Bernie said. Then he added something else. I missed whatever it was, on account of a smell I picked up, coming from the next house. Hadn’t I smelled this before, in pretty much this same spot?

“Chet? Where’re you going, big guy?”

Great ID badge yesterday.

And today our thoughts are with Dan and family.