will flesh out the popular perception of
the P.I. breaking through the bedroom door, camera at the
ready."
"It's not all taking dirty pictures.
It's running down child support delinquents."
"Do much of that?"
"Not me."
"Why?"
"Costs to travel."
"I see. And what else?"
"There's warranty work."
"Yeah?"
"Had a case where a contractor
provided poor service. Refused to honor his guarantee."
"So where did you come in?"
"I was hired to reason with the
contractor."
"Threaten him?"
That was exactly what Z had to do,
though Z didn't think it wise to admit it.
Z felt ... light-headed. Maybe it was
the liquor. He'd have to be careful what he said.
"Just pointed out the problem. He made
it good."
"I'm sure."
Was Jewell being sarcastic? It was
hard for Z to tell, Z also having a little trouble seeing, at the
moment. The whiteness of the place was beginning to get to
him.
"Is it always private citizens who
hire your services?"
"Mostly."
"Ever work with the
police?"
"More beside the police."
"Could you give an
example?"
"Parents of a missing girl. The cops
couldn't find her. I did." Unfortunately, Z had found the girl's
decomposed body in a Johnson County field.
"I guess what I meant was, do the
police ever ask for your services? Like, for instance, police
departments have been known to call in a psychic now and then, to
help them locate a missing person."
"Not locally !"
"Ah! Have I struck a little gold here?
If I'm not mistaken, you just said, not only 'no', but 'hell no.'
Does this mean that law enforcement doesn't exactly appreciate your
services?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Which law enforcement."
"Go on."
"I get along with K.C. cops OK. Did
some cooperative work with Kansas City."
"But ...?"
"Don't see eye-to-eye with
Gladstone."
"Let's see." From his shirt pocket,
the D.J. took out a piece of paper. Unfolded it. Scanned the
contents. "The Gladstone force would be lead by ... a Captain named
...."
"Scherer."
"I gather that you and the captain
don't get along?" the D.J. said softly, tucking his law enforcement
checklist back in his shirt pocket.
"Right."
"Why?"
Z wanted to say because
Scherer was an asshole. But didn't. Z wanted to say a lot of things about
Scherer. Instead, kept it low key. "I messed him up,
once."
"Got in the way of one of his
cases?"
"You could put it that
way."
"Tell me about it."
"It was Scherer's Betterton bust.
Scherer thought he had Mrs. Betterton for narcotics. Found a lot of
weed in a van she was supposed to have been driving. Arrested her.
That was to be his ticket to big-time politics in Clay County. Mr.
Drug Crusader. Only I proved Mrs. Betterton was somewhere else at
the time. Took the wind out of Scherer's sails."
"You say the captain's arrest was
politically motivated?"
"It was to be his big claim to fame as
a drug fighter. Except he didn't do his job."
"How's that?"
"If I could find out the whereabouts of
Mrs. Betterton, he could have, too."
"What you're saying is that Captain
Scherer is incompetent."
"I wouldn't say ..."
"But isn't there the possibility of
that?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
"And now he blames you for his own
carelessness?"
"You bet."
"If he's so bad, how does he keep his
job?"
"Criminals are generally dumber than
cops. That's how they get caught. Anyway, there's not much real
crime in Gladstone. If there was, Scherer couldn't locate it.
Judging by the Betterton bust, Scherer couldn't find rotten meat
with a bloodhound."
"That's good! Anything
else?"
Because of the buzzing in his ears, Z
couldn't think of much of anything except how good it felt to stick
it to that prick Scherer. "No."
"That'll do it, then. I think I've got
what I was looking for." Jewell stood up.
Z stood up also, felt
dizzy. Rallied. The trouble with being a near teetotaler was when
you did take a
drink, it got to you. Z was OK, though. Some sleep and a lot of
aspirin would put him right.
At the door, Z turned.
Tried to recall just what he had talked about in the interview;
the P.I. breaking through the bedroom door, camera at the
ready."
"It's not all taking dirty pictures.
It's running down child support delinquents."
"Do much of that?"
"Not me."
"Why?"
"Costs to travel."
"I see. And what else?"
"There's warranty work."
"Yeah?"
"Had a case where a contractor
provided poor service. Refused to honor his guarantee."
"So where did you come in?"
"I was hired to reason with the
contractor."
"Threaten him?"
That was exactly what Z had to do,
though Z didn't think it wise to admit it.
Z felt ... light-headed. Maybe it was
the liquor. He'd have to be careful what he said.
"Just pointed out the problem. He made
it good."
"I'm sure."
Was Jewell being sarcastic? It was
hard for Z to tell, Z also having a little trouble seeing, at the
moment. The whiteness of the place was beginning to get to
him.
"Is it always private citizens who
hire your services?"
"Mostly."
"Ever work with the
police?"
"More beside the police."
"Could you give an
example?"
"Parents of a missing girl. The cops
couldn't find her. I did." Unfortunately, Z had found the girl's
decomposed body in a Johnson County field.
"I guess what I meant was, do the
police ever ask for your services? Like, for instance, police
departments have been known to call in a psychic now and then, to
help them locate a missing person."
"Not locally !"
"Ah! Have I struck a little gold here?
If I'm not mistaken, you just said, not only 'no', but 'hell no.'
Does this mean that law enforcement doesn't exactly appreciate your
services?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Which law enforcement."
"Go on."
"I get along with K.C. cops OK. Did
some cooperative work with Kansas City."
"But ...?"
"Don't see eye-to-eye with
Gladstone."
"Let's see." From his shirt pocket,
the D.J. took out a piece of paper. Unfolded it. Scanned the
contents. "The Gladstone force would be lead by ... a Captain named
...."
"Scherer."
"I gather that you and the captain
don't get along?" the D.J. said softly, tucking his law enforcement
checklist back in his shirt pocket.
"Right."
"Why?"
Z wanted to say because
Scherer was an asshole. But didn't. Z wanted to say a lot of things about
Scherer. Instead, kept it low key. "I messed him up,
once."
"Got in the way of one of his
cases?"
"You could put it that
way."
"Tell me about it."
"It was Scherer's Betterton bust.
Scherer thought he had Mrs. Betterton for narcotics. Found a lot of
weed in a van she was supposed to have been driving. Arrested her.
That was to be his ticket to big-time politics in Clay County. Mr.
Drug Crusader. Only I proved Mrs. Betterton was somewhere else at
the time. Took the wind out of Scherer's sails."
"You say the captain's arrest was
politically motivated?"
"It was to be his big claim to fame as
a drug fighter. Except he didn't do his job."
"How's that?"
"If I could find out the whereabouts of
Mrs. Betterton, he could have, too."
"What you're saying is that Captain
Scherer is incompetent."
"I wouldn't say ..."
"But isn't there the possibility of
that?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
"And now he blames you for his own
carelessness?"
"You bet."
"If he's so bad, how does he keep his
job?"
"Criminals are generally dumber than
cops. That's how they get caught. Anyway, there's not much real
crime in Gladstone. If there was, Scherer couldn't locate it.
Judging by the Betterton bust, Scherer couldn't find rotten meat
with a bloodhound."
"That's good! Anything
else?"
Because of the buzzing in his ears, Z
couldn't think of much of anything except how good it felt to stick
it to that prick Scherer. "No."
"That'll do it, then. I think I've got
what I was looking for." Jewell stood up.
Z stood up also, felt
dizzy. Rallied. The trouble with being a near teetotaler was when
you did take a
drink, it got to you. Z was OK, though. Some sleep and a lot of
aspirin would put him right.
At the door, Z turned.
Tried to recall just what he had talked about in the interview;
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