weren't impressed. I handed Brian the revolver and asked him to check it out. This he did in standard fashion by swinging out the cylinder, which was empty, and looking down the chambers as he spun it on its crane arm. Then, the cylinder still out, he looked down the muzzle of the barrel and handed it to Joe, who repeated the procedure, then stuck his thumbnail under the barrel throat so the light would reflect off it up through the tube.
'Empty,' he said, handing it back. 'I don't have a screwdriver to take off the grips or sideplate. I assume that's what you're going to do.'
'No,' I said, taking the pencil and inserting it into the barrel. I pushed it down carefully. The coiled celluloid sprang out of the barrel throat like a jack-in-the-box, and there was the film-strip on the desk.
'Sure looked clean to me,' said Joe.
'That's because the film was rolled emulsion side out, leaving the inside of the roll shiny-slick. When you roll up the film this way and stick it in the muzzle end, which is nearest the viewer's eye, he's got to be looking very closely to see it. In regular room light, like this, it's just about invisible.'
'Hmmm. And Johnny put Santuccio's film there? You sure?'
'Just about positive. He was carrying it the day he was killed. From his phone message to me it's clear he knew he was being tailed. .. and he knew why, too. He didn't leave it at the office, or in his car. Those places were searched thoroughly by DeLucca and you guys. It wasn't in his apartment. Not only was the place searched several times, but the killers nailed him as soon as he o walked in. I thought for a while it was tucked away somewhere on his apartment's porch, or in the stairway hall going up to his place. But I was wrong. All I got out of that expedition was two broken heads: mine and Brian's.'
'Tell me about it,' the chief growled. 'Although I admit this is kinda clever, Doc. Now it'll be even better if you're right.'
'Where else can it be? He didn't put it in his shoe. Joe, your men checked his clothes. He didn't mail it to himself; we've watched his mail. He wanted it ready to deliver. But I'll tell you something else: this is my second experimental filmstrip. The first one disintegrated. When you put a roll of film inside the business end of a thirty- eight, there's nothing left of it after you touch the gun off'. It shreds and burns into vapor.'
'When we found Johnny's body up in Lowell, Mary noticed that the carrying strap of his sidearm was unfastened.'
'Uh-huh. Which meant that if indeed the film was in there, Johnny knew he could both conceal the evidence and destroy it immediately if he had to.'
'Sounds too good to be true,' said Brian as he swiveled in his chair and watched a red Buick Regal swerve into the CPD lot I beneath his window.
Well, it was. Too good to be true, that is. As for the film negatives which should have been tucked neatly, invisibly, into the barrel of Johnny Robinson's S amp;W model ten, they weren? They weren't hidden in his little leg pistol either. They also weren't in any of the clothes and shoes that were in the cardboard carton that Sam hauled into the office with him.
'Well close, but no cigar,' said Brian, drumming his fingers on the desk. 'Sorry to have brought you all the way out here, Sam.'
I cussed. Sam folded up his dead partner's clothes and placed all the belongings neatly back into the carton.
'My guess is Johnny ditched the stuff somewhere on his way home, at some drop, intending to return to the drop later Friday night or Saturday morning when the heat was off and retrieve it. Of course he never got the chance.'
Following this bit of deduction, which seemed plausible, we called the Lucky Seven tavern again, just to make sure nobody there had seen Johnny that day, or whether indeed a letter, package, or message had arrived there with his name on it. The answer was no.
'I'm back to first base,' I said.
'Wrong, Doc. You're back in the dugout,' said Joe. 'Now Brian and I have some paperwork to do for the DeLucca thing. It's just routine and will take about an hour. Let's meet afterwards in case there are some last- minute questions.'
'Yeah,' said Brian, 'minor things like dumdum bullets and breaking and entering?
'Mary and I are going to buy Sam a big dinner at Yangtze River. Brian, seeing's how I accidentally banged up your head, I think I owe you one too. Why don't the three of us wait for you two at our place?'
They said it was the first good news they'd had all day. So Sam and I left. At home Mary set a blood-rare round steak down in front of Sam's big pooch. Turns out he is not a fussy eater.
'It's the least we could do for him, Sam,' she said. 'And now Charlie, you want to show Sam his present from us, since we're still alive?'
It was sitting behind the little tool shed with a canvas cover over it. A new Honda CX-500, with full fairing and a special platform for Popeye covered with thick acrylic carpeting in silver-gray, which matched the bike. Sam rubbed his hands over the satin finish of the tank, the brightwork of the cylinder casings, the flat black of the cockpit instrument panel. He was speechless. The big dog at his side sniffed the machine and waggled his fat butt.
'She's quiet as a graveyard, Sam; I took her for a little spin yesterday. With this you won't give away your position to the enemy.'
He and the dog walked in silence around the bike. Something looked different about the dog. I couldn't figure out what it was. We had drinks on the terrace. Sam couldn't seem to take his eyes off the bike. We let our doggies out of their runs and watched tensely as they approached the big bull mastiff, who was reclining sedately on the flagstones, digesting twenty ounces of steak. Danny, the yellow Lab, approached growling with a lot of braggadocio. Popeye looked at him through slit eyes over a wide mouth, bored. What was different about Popeye?
After fifteen minutes of bluffing and retreating, charging and dodging, the four dogs reached a truce and began to play.
'I know what's different about our friend,' I said at last. 'He's got a new harness on.'
'Oh yeah,' said Sam, taking the set of keys Mary handed him. 'He got that last week; I threw the old one out. Doc, I've had a drink, but you think it's all right if I take it down the end of the drive and back?'
'Sure. But watch it- you've got about twice the power of your old bike, and a shaft drive too. It'll feel different.'
Sam started the bike, eased it off its stand, and purred down the gravel drive slowly. He scarcely made a sound. He came back grinning from ear to ear.
'Doc, Mary,' he said, 'I just don't feel right about taking it without paying you. It's so nice and I just feel-'
'Cut it, Sam,' snapped Mary. 'It's really quite simple: if you hadn't been here, risking your own life, we'd be in the ground now. So let's not hear any more about it.' She went inside to freshen up our drinks, and I patted the huge dog and scratched his ears. Popeye was used to all of us by now. The new harness he wore was about the scale of those used on Budweiser draft horses.
'This doesn't look new,' I said. 'It looks bigger and better than his old collar, but it's not new.'
'Naw. It was Tommy's. It's heavyy-duty and cost Johnny a bundle to have it made, as I remember. So instead of throwing it out like I did Susie's, I kep' it. Makes him easier to control; he's got plenty a power.'
'And Johnny had it custom-made?'
'Um-hmmm. Can't buy those.'
'Take it off a minute. I may want to get some made for our dogs.'
Mary brought the drinks and said she wondered what was taking Joe and Brian so long. She and Sam sipped and talked and played with the dogs. I turned the big harness over and over in my hands. The strap that held the lead ring was three inches wide and very heavy, with a lot of coarse stitching done in heavy welting twine. Strong enough even for a dog who could smash through doors.
A car door slammed out front and we heard low chuckles and guffaws coming to us on the cool evening air.
'Out here you guys!' yelled Mary, and the footsteps approached. I was fiddling with a rivet snap on the underside of the big leather strap. The men came around the corner, smoking. They oooh'd and ah'd the new Honda, and ordered drinks. Mary went, and came back with a mineral water for Brian and a Campari for Joe. We all toasted Sam. Then Popeye. We settled back in the redwood lawn furniture.
'Well,' groaned Brian tiredly, 'so what else is new?'
