Good Lord, Deliver Us by John Stockmyer

this one by Lawrence Block, " A
Ticket to the Boneyard ," featuring a
detective named Scudder.
    Now there was a real detective, an ex-New York cop
who knew what to do under any circumstance. Knew who to call when
he needed something; had an honest-to-God friend on the N.Y.P.D.
instead of a mostly worthless high school buddy like Ted Newbold,
Gladstone's not-so-finest.
    New York City.
    What a place that must be:
a big-time, big-crime city instead of a sleepy, Midwest town. Not
that there wasn't sin in Kansas City -- just not enough of it
North-of-the-River to enable a stumble bum, unlicensed private dick
like Z to earn a decent living. The only thing Z had in common with Block's
detective was that Scudder wasn't licensed either.
    Back at his desk, Z was still reading
about Scudder's exploits -- Z lost in the wonderful corruption of
New York City -- when there was a knock on the door, always and
forever a startling sound.
    Could it be Susan? A welcome surprise,
normally .... Today, however ....
    Launching himself from his chair, Z
fast-hobbled to the door.
    Opened it.
    Saw ... Ted Newbold.
..................
    "You going to invite me in?" Ted,
already taking offense.
    "Sure."
    Z leading, they went to the back
office, Z to sit behind his desk, Ted to lounge in the "client"
chair.
    Z always though of Ted as
... brown. Wore a brown suit. Had brown shoes, eyes, and bottled
brown hair. In short, nothing the cops called "distinguishing
marks." Nothing at all "distinguished" about Teddy Newbold, if the truth were
known.
    "I was just in the neighborhood and
thought I'd drop in to see my old buddy," Ted lied, Teddy wanting
something bad enough to venture into an area of the city he thought
beneath the dignity of a Gladstone Dick.
    To be fair, that was the Z-Ted
relationship. If Z needed a cop-fact, he called Ted; if Ted needed
a favor, he got in touch with his "old buddy."
    What Teddy showing up in
the Ludlow building really meant, was that Ted wanted something ...
bad!
    "Now that I'm here in this
beautiful office," Ted continued, even though needing a favor,
unable to resist poking Z in his unemployed ribs, "there is a little something
you could do for me. After all, you owe me."
    Better at remembering
favors he'd done for others than those done for him, Ted probably
believed he was "owed."
    Though it could take a
while to find out what Ted wanted, all Z had to do was wait. Ted
couldn't keep any secret for long.
    "I know you did me some good, too. Now
and then. But I figure you're ahead."
    "Yeah." No sense arguing.
    "There's this matter that the K.C.
cops have referred to our department. You know how Gladstone ends
just before the Antioch Shopping Center? How from there on, it's
Kansas City, Missouri? And you know the I-35 overpass about ten
blocks further down Antioch?"
    "Yeah."
    Well, if you've been driving past that
location lately, you've noticed some bums hanging out there. Or
close to there. They're generally on the Kansas City side of the
line."
    "'Work For Food.'"
    "That's right. With signs
like that. What's going down is that K.C.'s been getting
complaints. And here's the kicker -- from the bums themselves.
Saying that, now and then, one of them turns up missing. In fact,
we got a couple of calls on that from the K.C. fuzz
    "Now my captain says, so what? So
they're bums and bums bum around. And that could be right. Probably
is. But when the K.C. cops bother to call on something like that, I
got to figure there may be more to it than meets the
eye.
    "The truth is ... I could use
something positive on my record about now."
    Oh, oh. That had to mean
Ted had screwed up something else , Captain Scherer breathing down
Ted's neck, Ted desperate to counter his foul-up with a home run.
Normally, Ted kept what he called a low profile. (What Z called covering his
ass.) Or to put it another way, if Ted had been a turtle, he'd have
been the hide-in-his-shell kind, not the "snapping"
variety.
    "So I asked myself," Ted continued,
hooting like