'Not much of a lock on the front door,' she said.
I had to be the only person in the entire world who couldn't pick a lock.
We stood listening in the kitchen. The water was still running overhead. Lula had pepper spray in one hand and her stun gun in the other. I had one hand free and one hand holding cuffs. We crept up the stairs and paused at the top. The row house was small. Two bedrooms and a bath on the second floor. The doors to the bedrooms were open, and the bedrooms were empty. The bathroom door was closed. Lula stood to one side, poised with the spray. I stood to the other side. We both knew exactly how to do this, because we watched the cop shows on television. Munson wasn't known to carry a gun, and it was unlikely he'd be armed in the shower, but it didn't hurt to be careful.
'On the count of three,' I mouthed to Lula, my hand on the doorknob. 'One, two, three!'
9
'WAIT A MINUTE,' Lula said, 'he's gonna be naked. Maybe we don't want to see this. I've seen a lot of ugly men in my day. I'm not so anxious to see any more.'
'I don't care about the naked part,' I said. 'I care about the part that he won't have a knife or a propane torch.'
'Good point.'
'Okay, I'm counting again. Get ready. One, two, three!'
I opened the bathroom door, and we both jumped in.
Munson ripped the shower curtain aside. 'What the hell?'
'You're under arrest,' Lula said. 'And we'd appreciate it if you'd get a towel on account of I don't feel like looking at your sad, shriveled privates.'
He had his hair full of shampoo, and he had a big bandage on his foot, which he was protecting with a plastic bag held tight at the ankle with an elastic band.
'I'm crazy!' he shrieked. 'I'm freaking crazy, and you'll never take me alive!'
'Yeah, whatever,' Lula said, handing him a towel. 'You want to shut that water off now?'
Munson took the towel and snapped it back at Lula.
'Hey!' Lula said, 'hold on here. You snap that towel at me again, and you're gonna get a snootful of pepper spray.'
Munson snapped it again. 'Fat, fat, fatty,' he sang.
Lula forgot about the pepper spray and lunged for his neck. Munson reached up and turned the shower spray on her and jumped out of the shower. I tried to grab him, but he was wet and slippery with soap, and Lula was flailing around, trying to get away from the water.
'Spray him!' I yelled to Lula. 'Electrocute him! Shoot him! Do something!'
Munson knocked the two of us aside and streaked down the stairs. He ran the length of the house and out the back door. I was close behind, and Lula was about ten feet behind me. His foot had to be killing him, but he ran flat out through two yards and then cut off to the alley. I took a flying leap and caught him square in the small of his back. The two of us went down to the ground and rolled around, locked together, swearing and clawing. Munson was trying to scramble away, and I was trying to hang on and cuff him. It would have been easier if he'd had clothes to grab hold of. As it was, I didn't really want to grab what was available.
'Hit him where it hurts!' Lula was yelling. 'Hit him where it hurts!'
So I did. A person reaches a point where she just doesn't want to roll around anymore. I hauled back and gave Munson a knee in the gonads.
'Ulk,' Munson said, and assumed the fetal position.
Lula and I pried his hands away from Mr. Sad Sack and cuffed him behind his back.
'Wish I had a movie of you wrestlin' with this guy,' Lula said. 'It reminded me of that joke about the midget at the nudist colony who kept sticking his nose in everyone's business.'
Mitchell and Habib had gotten out of their car and were standing a few feet away looking pained.
'I could feel that all the way over here,' Mitchell said. 'If we get the word that we have to rough you up, I'm wearing a cup.'
Lula ran back to the house to get a blanket and lock up.
And Habib and Mitchell and I dragged Munson over to the Buick. When Lula got back we wrapped Munson up, tossed him into the backseat and drove him to the police station on North Clinton. We took him to the back entrance, which had a drive-in.
'Just like McDonald's,' Lula said. 'Except we're dropping off instead of picking up.'
I rang the buzzer and identified myself. A moment later Carl Costanza opened the back door and looked over at the Buick. 'Now what?' he said.
'I have a body in the backseat. Morris Munson. FTA.'
Carl stared into the car window and grinned. 'He's naked.'
I blew out a sigh. 'You aren't going to give me a hard time with this, are you?'
'Hey, Juniak,' Costanza yelled, 'come take a look at this naked guy. Guess who he belongs to!'
'Okay,' Lula said to Munson, 'end of the line. You can get out now.'
'No,' Munson said, 'I'm not getting out.'
'The hell you aren't,' Lula said.
Juniak and two other cops joined Costanza at the door. Everyone was grinning dopey cop grins.
'Sometimes I think this is a really crappy job,' one of the cops said. 'But then there are other times when you get to see stuff like this, and it makes it all worthwhile. Why's the naked guy got a plastic bag on his foot?'
'I shot him,' I said.
Costanza and Juniak exchanged glances. 'I don't want to know about it,' Costanza said. 'I didn't hear anything.'
Lula gave Munson her junkyard-dog look. 'You don't haul your bony white carcass out of this car, I'm coming back there.'
'Fuck you,' Munson said. 'Fuck your fat ass.'
The cops all sucked in a breath and took a step backward.
'That does it,' Lula said. 'You put me in a bad mood now. You went and wrecked my good disposition. I'm gonna come back there and root you out like the little pencil-dick rodent you are.' She heaved herself out of the car and wrenched the back door open.
And Munson jumped out of the car.
I wrapped the blanket around him, and we all shuffled into the police station, except for Lula, who has a phobia about police stations. She backed out of the drive-in, found a space in the lot, and parked.
I cuffed Munson to the bench by the docket lieutenant, handed my paperwork in, and got my body receipt. Next on my list of things to do was visit Brian Simon.
I was on my way to the third floor when Costanza stopped me. 'If you're looking for Simon, don't bother. He took off the instant he heard you were here.' He gave me the once-over. 'I don't want to be insulting, or anything, but you look like hell.'
I was dusty from head to foot, the knee was torn out of my Levi's, my hair was in the throes of a
'You look like you haven't slept in days,' Costanza said.
'That's because I haven't.'
'I could talk to Morelli.'
'It's not Morelli. It's my grandmother. She's moved in with me, and she snores.' Not to mention I had the Mooner in my life. And madmen. And Ranger.
'So let me get this straight. You're living with your granny and with Simon's dog?'
'Yeah.'
Costanza grinned. 'Hey, Juniak,' he yelled, 'wait'll you hear this.' He looked back to me. 'No wonder Morelli's been in such a foul mood.'
