Floyd nodded, one of those nods that says yes and means no-you see that a lot in the cop world-and left the room. Human nodding: too big a subject for going into now.
“This is Chet?” Oona said. “I’ve heard so much about him.”
Hey! A tiny thing, no more than a kid, but she was going places.
“He’s so beautiful.” Like right to the top, for example. “Can I pat him, uh, Bobby?”
“Bernie,” said Bernie, a bit irritated for some reason.
Oona gave me a pat. A nice one, although nothing like the kind of patting Tulip and Autumn, two friends of ours who worked for Livia Moon at her house of ill repute in Pottsdale, were capable of.
“Oona?” Rick said. “Maybe you can give Floyd a hand.”
“Yes, boss,” said Oona, out the door in a flash.
“Got my eye on her,” Rick said.
“You’re a married man,” said Bernie.
“Professionally,” Rick said, maybe becoming aware of those cruller crumbs at last and licking them off his mustache. “She’s an up-and-comer.”
“Calling you ‘boss’? That’s all it takes?”
“More than enough.” Rick turned to the body. “So what’s the story with Manny, here?”
“Couldn’t tell you.”
“Couldn’t or won’t?” Rick said.
“Never seen him before today,” Bernie said.
“But he was alive when you got here.”
“Told you that already.”
“So you got something out of him,” Rick said. “I know you.”
“He was incoherent,” Bernie said.
Rick gave Bernie a long look. “I’ll believe you for the moment,” he said. “What got you interested in this address in the first place?”
“Sorry, Rick. Can’t talk about that without my client’s permission.”
Rick’s face changed, darkening and even swelling a bit. Uhoh. Maybe they weren’t getting along. Not good: Rick was one of our best pals.
“Working on something besides the movie gig?” he said.
“We’re busy these days,” Bernie said. Nice to hear, especially if it meant getting paid. But as for other jobs, I couldn’t think of any.
Rick took a deep breath-a way humans have of trying to change things inside-and his face came back to normal. “Anyone can get in over his head,” he said. “Even you.”
Floyd appeared in the doorway, his movements very quiet. He didn’t notice me; some humans are like that when it comes to us in the nation within. Floyd’s eyes, pale and watchful, were on Bernie.
“Uh, excuse me,” he said. Bernie and Rick turned to him. “Deceased was in the system,” Floyd said. He checked his notebook. “Did a year at Central State for a B and E in South P, also got an assault collar, plus a domestic violence, charges dropped.” He looked up. “And the ME’s waiting downstairs.”
Rick nodded, then turned to Bernie like he was going to say one more thing, but he didn’t. We passed the ME on her way up. She gave me a quick pat as she went by. You meet a lot of nice people in this business, even some of the perps and gangbangers.
When we got home, a big silver car stood in the driveway.
“Wonder who-” Bernie began, and then the front doors opened and out stepped Leda-and Charlie! Hadn’t seen him in way too long. We pulled in beside the silver car and I hopped out, possibly while we were still rolling. Had Bernie said something about that, maybe more than once? I had a faint memory. It grew fainter and then vanished completely. By that time, I was giving Charlie a great big greeting.
“For God’s sake, Charlie,” Leda said. “Think of the germs.”
“He’s just kissing me, Mom.”
Leda hurried over and wiped Charlie’s face with a tissue.
“Ch-et?” Bernie said in this special voice he has, just for me. I calmed right down, trotted around in a little circle, raised my leg against a tree we’ve got just for that purpose, Bernie says, and then sat beside Charlie. He gave me a grin. There’s no grin like Charlie’s and not just because of his smooth round face and jumble of teeth, some big, some little. It’s all about the whole of him grinning, hard to explain.
Bernie turned to Leda. “Uh, hi,” he said.
“Hello, Bernie,” said Leda. She has light-colored eyes that sometimes reminded me of ice, but not now. Kind of surprisingly, she was looking at Bernie in a warm sort of way. “Hope you don’t mind us dropping in.”
“Um,” said Bernie. “No, no, of course not. Any, ah, time.” He glanced at the silver car. “New wheels?”
“Birthday present from Malcolm,” Leda said. Malcolm was the boyfriend, was doing very well in apps, whatever that meant, and had long skinny toes.
“Oh, right,” Bernie said. “Happy birthday.”
Leda laughed, made a little sweeping-away gesture with her hand, her bracelet sparkling in the light. What were those things she liked? Diamonds? They had led to an unfortunate incident in pre-divorce days, although we’d gotten the necklace back just as Amy had promised-she’s the vet, a big woman with a nice voice and careful hands, but I always shook the moment I entered her waiting room. Forget all that. The point was… gone.
“… new car, too?” Leda was saying. “Are those martini glasses on the side?”
“Nixon’s idea,” said Bernie.
“Unusual,” Leda said.
“Can we go for a ride?” said Charlie.
Bernie turned to Leda.
“Why not?” she said. “In fact, if it’s all right with your father, maybe you could stay here for dinner while I do some quick shopping.”
“Uh, sure,” said Bernie, looking a bit confused. I was confused, too. Was this an every-second weekend or Christmas? I didn’t think so. But bottom line: great news!
Leda gave Charlie a quick kiss, didn’t wipe it off with tissues, and got in her car. Backing out, she slid down her window and said, “Guess what Charlie’s class is doing this term.”
I waited for one of Bernie’s quick comebacks, but all he said was, “No idea.” He was a different man around Leda.
“Making a movie,” said Leda.
“He’s in second grade,” Bernie said.
“A six-minute movie,” said Leda, “all about the history of the school. We were thinking it might be a big help if he could visit a real movie set. No interference with your job, of course. I’d be happy to bring him.”
Bernie’s mouth opened. He might have said “oh” or “um.”
Leda backed down the driveway. “On a day when they’re shooting a scene with Thad Perry, if possible,” she called through the window.
ELEVEN
That was quick thinking,” Bernie said. We were back in the movie bar-now deserted except for me, Bernie, and Arn, the writer dude-waiting for Thad Perry to finish napping and emerge from his trailer.
“Not following you,” Arn said, taking out a pack of cigarettes. His hands trembled a bit; you see that in humans, but usually ones much older than Arn. He lit up.
“When you came up with that revised dialogue on the spot,” Bernie said, eyes on the plume of tobacco smoke. Bernie had quit smoking again, not too long ago. Quitting smoking was something Bernie did a lot. He was great at it.
Arn shook his head. He had dark circles under his eyes and needed a shave, a haircut, new clothes, a shoe shine. “It’s out,” he said.
“That line about ‘looking for someone, friend?’” Bernie said.
