things,” Gulliver said. “Maybe even dogs.”
The kid smiled again. “I miss Ugly.”
“I bet he misses you too. Where did you see him last?”
“Over by Coffey Park. He saw a squirrel or something and took off after it. I followed him. He’s ugly, but he’s fast.”
Gulliver reached into his pants pocket. “I’m going to get my wallet out and give you my card. Okay?”
The kid stopped smiling.
Gulliver thought he knew why. “It’s okay if you can’t read. You’ll learn. There’s lots of things I learned when I was old already. No one thought I could learn them, but I did.”
The kid pumped up his chest. “I can read. It’s just that the letters get all crazy sometimes.”
Like this kid’s life wasn’t already hard enough. “Here’s my card and twenty dollars.”
That set off alarm bells. “What’s the money for?”
“For food. Some for you. Some for Ugly. You can pay me back someday after I find your dog. Deal?” Gulliver held out his hand to the kid.
The kid took it and shook across the side of his head">“ th! it. “Deal.”
Gulliver wagged his finger at the kid and winked. “Go get something to eat. Check with me tomorrow.”tion/vnd.adobe
CHAPTER THREE
G ulliver’s parents had adopted children, not animals. Sharing his loft with Ugly for the night was as close as Gulliver had ever come to having a pet. One night. That’s as long as he figured to hang on to the mutt. No doubt the kid would be by in the morning to see if he’d found the dog. Then he would give Ugly back to his master. He figured finding the dog would earn him some respect. Buy him some time to talk to the kid. Time to ask him the hard questions he hadn’t asked before. At least he could slip the kid some more money.
The dog was asleep on a blanket. He’d had a rough day. The vet had given him vaccinations against all sorts of diseases. Pumped him full of medicines to treat the ones he already had. Even cleaned his teeth. They’d shaved his old fur down to the skin. Flea-dipped him. Bathed him. And bathed him again. Gulliver had to admit the dog smelled a lot better. But even with his ratty fur gone. With clean teeth. The pooch was still as ugly as could be.
Gulliver was half-asleep on the couch. The tv was on. There was a knock at the door. Ugly didn’t like that. He stirred. Walked to the door. Growled a low, steady growl. Gulliver didn’t like it either. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning. And you had to ring the loft from the lobby. Then you had to wait to be buzzed in. Gulliver wrapped his oddly shaped hand around the butt of his Sig. Then relaxed. It must be the kid, he thought. Probably couldn’t wait to see if Gulliver had found his dog. Street kids don’t live by the clockre you doing hereanurz. They also have ways of getting into places without following the rules. The street has its own rules.
“One second,” he called out. He pulled back the door.
It wasn’t the kid. Of course it wasn’t. The dog wouldn’t be growling if it was the kid. But what did Gulliver know about dogs? Two big men stood in the doorway. Both had blue-and-gold NYPD detective shields hanging from their jacket pockets. One of them looked familiar. He was in his forties. He had thinning reddish hair. Some of it was gray. Blue eyes. A sad mouth. Gulliver couldn’t remember where he knew the detective from. The other guy was a blob. Fat. Double-chinned. Bald. Older. Cold gray eyes in tiny slits.
“You Dowd?” the re d - h a i red detective asked.
“Gulliver Dowd. Yes. Why?”
“We’ll ask the questions,” said the Blob.
“I’m Detective Sam Patrick. This is my partner, Detective Rigo.” He nodded at the Blob.
“What can I do for you, detectives?” Gulliver asked. Then he turned to Ugly. “Go back to your blanket and lie down.” The dog listened. Nestled back down on his blanket.
But kept his bulging eyes on the cops.
“Ugly dog,” Rigo said.
That pissed Gulliver off. “You always this
The kid smiled again. “I miss Ugly.”
“I bet he misses you too. Where did you see him last?”
“Over by Coffey Park. He saw a squirrel or something and took off after it. I followed him. He’s ugly, but he’s fast.”
Gulliver reached into his pants pocket. “I’m going to get my wallet out and give you my card. Okay?”
The kid stopped smiling.
Gulliver thought he knew why. “It’s okay if you can’t read. You’ll learn. There’s lots of things I learned when I was old already. No one thought I could learn them, but I did.”
The kid pumped up his chest. “I can read. It’s just that the letters get all crazy sometimes.”
Like this kid’s life wasn’t already hard enough. “Here’s my card and twenty dollars.”
That set off alarm bells. “What’s the money for?”
“For food. Some for you. Some for Ugly. You can pay me back someday after I find your dog. Deal?” Gulliver held out his hand to the kid.
The kid took it and shook across the side of his head">“ th! it. “Deal.”
Gulliver wagged his finger at the kid and winked. “Go get something to eat. Check with me tomorrow.”tion/vnd.adobe
CHAPTER THREE
G ulliver’s parents had adopted children, not animals. Sharing his loft with Ugly for the night was as close as Gulliver had ever come to having a pet. One night. That’s as long as he figured to hang on to the mutt. No doubt the kid would be by in the morning to see if he’d found the dog. Then he would give Ugly back to his master. He figured finding the dog would earn him some respect. Buy him some time to talk to the kid. Time to ask him the hard questions he hadn’t asked before. At least he could slip the kid some more money.
The dog was asleep on a blanket. He’d had a rough day. The vet had given him vaccinations against all sorts of diseases. Pumped him full of medicines to treat the ones he already had. Even cleaned his teeth. They’d shaved his old fur down to the skin. Flea-dipped him. Bathed him. And bathed him again. Gulliver had to admit the dog smelled a lot better. But even with his ratty fur gone. With clean teeth. The pooch was still as ugly as could be.
Gulliver was half-asleep on the couch. The tv was on. There was a knock at the door. Ugly didn’t like that. He stirred. Walked to the door. Growled a low, steady growl. Gulliver didn’t like it either. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning. And you had to ring the loft from the lobby. Then you had to wait to be buzzed in. Gulliver wrapped his oddly shaped hand around the butt of his Sig. Then relaxed. It must be the kid, he thought. Probably couldn’t wait to see if Gulliver had found his dog. Street kids don’t live by the clockre you doing hereanurz. They also have ways of getting into places without following the rules. The street has its own rules.
“One second,” he called out. He pulled back the door.
It wasn’t the kid. Of course it wasn’t. The dog wouldn’t be growling if it was the kid. But what did Gulliver know about dogs? Two big men stood in the doorway. Both had blue-and-gold NYPD detective shields hanging from their jacket pockets. One of them looked familiar. He was in his forties. He had thinning reddish hair. Some of it was gray. Blue eyes. A sad mouth. Gulliver couldn’t remember where he knew the detective from. The other guy was a blob. Fat. Double-chinned. Bald. Older. Cold gray eyes in tiny slits.
“You Dowd?” the re d - h a i red detective asked.
“Gulliver Dowd. Yes. Why?”
“We’ll ask the questions,” said the Blob.
“I’m Detective Sam Patrick. This is my partner, Detective Rigo.” He nodded at the Blob.
“What can I do for you, detectives?” Gulliver asked. Then he turned to Ugly. “Go back to your blanket and lie down.” The dog listened. Nestled back down on his blanket.
But kept his bulging eyes on the cops.
“Ugly dog,” Rigo said.
That pissed Gulliver off. “You always this
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