Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward

The Case of the Golden Coprolite

(2008)

Table of Contents

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

Post 4

Post 5

Post 6

Post 7

Post 8

Post 9

Post 10

Post 11

Post 12

Post 13

Post 14

Post 15

Post 16

EPILOG

CONCORDANCE

Post 1

It was Tuesday, and business was slow. The rustlers I had picked up the last week were waiting trial. Most of ’em, anyway. One of them had complained about Habeas Corpus, so I made him one. The Judge said I was setting a bad example. I responded with that I was only givin’ the customer what he asked for. Teach me to be courteous.

Anyways, I was killing time, shootin’ at the picture of FDR with my silencered.22, using BB Caps so’s not to bother anybody, when Mrs Slocum let out a terrible squall in the receptionist’s room. Mrs. Slocum is our office cat. We keep her around so’s the more nervous customers could stroke her and calm down.

The intercom said, “Red, we’ve got a funny sort of customer in here, wanting some detective assistance.”

“Does he have money?”

“Yesss…”

About this time Mrs. Slocum lets out another squall. Great, I get to hear it in stereo. Good thing I don’t have a hangover.

“Well, send him in before Mrs. Slocum shreds the chair!”

The door opens and a dog walks in. He’s some kind of small breed, like a terrier or a llasa apso. Me, I don’t pay any attention to any breed smaller than a German Shepherd. But I get up and slide out a chair, which he hops up into.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

The dog give me an eye, and says, “I need the services of a P.I. who has a hard head, a closed mouth, a quick gun, and no taste at all.”

“Now I don’t who’s been talking, doggie, but just because I drink Pearl, doesn’t mean I have no taste—just extremely bad taste. And d—ed proud of it.”

The dog gives me a hard, nasty look. “The name’s VivaldiRules, not doggie.”

“Should’ve given me your handle up front, VR. What else was I suppose to call you, emperor?”

VR gives be a more calculated look this time. “You don’t seem to have a problem with a talking dog.”

“No problem at all, long as you’re housebroken. I’ve worked a few cases with Ralph von Wau Wau, before he took up with The Bird.”

“I ought to pee on your shoe for that one.”

My silencered.22 magically appeared. “Out of which hole?” I said conversationally.

VR chewed on that for a moment. “I guess you pass item #3.”

“OK, so far we’ve determined that I have a fast gun and bad taste. I don’t let people test the hardness of my head without a week’s retainer. And I haven’t seen any money yet. Or any job…”

“What do you get for a retainer?”

“Depends on the case. Does it have anything to do with that little pinwheel attached to you collar?”

VR ducked down. “Possibly.” He said softly.

I looked over him at the wall. “I guess some cases never die.” I looked down at him. “Mrs. Slocum was given to me by the same source. Capesh?”

“Capesh.”

“So what’s the case?”

“Could we go outside to talk?”

“OK, but if you’re worried about bugs, a Big Ear’ll catch our conversation outside just as easily as a bug inside. But suit yourself.”

“Outside.”

“Gimme a minute.” I popped out the BB caps and empties, and speed-loaded a brace of wadcutters.

I flipped the intercom. “Mindy, put a blanket over Mrs. Slocum. We’re coming out.”

Great, I was walking a dog. And I wasn’t even getting paid for it.

[1]

Post 2

So I’m wandering ’round the neighborhood, with VR responding to doggie e-mails at every post.

I look down at him, between posts, and ask, “So, what cooks?”

“Did you really work with Ralph von Wau Wau?”

“Yep, on The Royal Bastich case. ’Course, he had the ghost writer and the book contract, so he got the star billing. OK by me, I don’t like the limelight. I got a knighthood and a Hero of the Kingdom medal out of the deal, and all he got was a French Poodle. Simple tastes.”

“I’m here because there’s something missing.”

“Hey, I can take ’em off, but I can’t put them back on. Nobody can.”

“Not me, you moron, something of the Kingdom’s.” He left another e-mail.

“Why see me? The Kingdom can afford the best, MI-6, CIA, shucks, every certain members of the FBI have worked with royalty. Not to mention the biggest eyes in the game.”

“And they all have book contracts, movie contracts, and want star billing. You don’t. And you’ve helped the Kingdom before. That’s why I’m here.”

“Maybe, but you’ve still haven’t told me what’s missing. All I see missing is my retainer.”

He looks around and hikes another leg. “The most precious artifact of the Kingdom.”

“The Metallic Dinosaur Dung?”

He looked up. “Yes,” he said softly, “The Golden Coprolite.”

* * * *

I guess I’d better clue you in on the importance of the Golden Coprolite.

Back in the Cretaceous period, a dinosaur found a whole bunch of native gold rocks. This dinosaur was dumb even by dinosaur standards, and decided to gulp ’em down for gizzard stones, like a chicken. ’Course, being soft, they didn’t work out too well, and got broken up in the gizzard, and then passed along down the garden path, rather that being upchucked, like proper worn-out gizzard stones. Having reached the end of the dinosaur trail, they got left in big piles that got fossilized. Not just fossilized, but the fertilizer got replaced by precious opal, leaving this beautiful gold/opal mix, which looks like a golden matrix opal.

Now only 4 of these golden droppings have ever been found, all in the kingdom of Pinwheel. Three of ’em were little, and were cut up for the crown jewels. The fourth one was huge, weighing 31.49 kilos. It’s kept in the Royal Treasury, and brought out as the symbol of state for official affairs, such as royal christenings, marriages, and funerals. To say they’re valuable is an understatement. Not ever JP Morgan could ever get a whiff of one. So now the Big Pile has turned up missing. If the word ever got out, there’s be an unbelievable stink. Well, I hope there was some money in the deal for me…

* * * *

“Gimme some facts. When did it turn up missing? How long was it between ganders? Mostly, it’s kept in a timelock vault, or so I’ve heard. Finally, how much am I being paid?”

“Do you think of anything else but money?”

“Yep, barbequeing smart-mouthed dogs. What’s in it for me?”

VR started to aim for my leg. My.22 was out in a flash, which VR noticed and lowered his leg.

I said “Either you start dealing, or go home. I’m tired of walking a dog for free.”

VR shrugged. “5,000 ounces of gold for the return, intact, of the G.C. If it’s less than intact, you get proportionally less. Catch the thief, 1,000 ounces live, 500 ounces dead. But to get the 500 ounces dead, you have to have ironclad proof the stiff did it. A liberal expense account, but I audit the books after for waste. Acceptable?”

“Sure. Anything for Queen Z. So, if you will be kind enough to start passing along the facts of the case to date…”

[2]

Post 3

VR led me to his room. His human looked up from his liseuse and nodded. He reached into his pocket and pitched me a SD chip.

“War and Peace?” I asked.

“The Mudhen.” His human grunted.

“Cool. Haven’t read it since I got my first saddle. Cheese still losing?”

“Mostly.”

VR softly growled. “Get to work, Redneck.”

I cocked my head at the dog. “Is he usually this friendly?”

“Only when he’s happy.” his human replied.

I looked down. “I’ll check back with you in the mornin’. Let me read an’ digest this stuff, first.”

“You can read?”

“I can write, too. Especially epitaphs.”

I let myself out and headed back to the office.

When I got back to the office, the first thing Mrs Slocum did was hiss at me. Obviously, she didn’t like the company I was keeping.

“Shoot the dog?” Mindy inquired.

“Naw. Good money in the deal, Angel.”

“Stop calling me Angel! I’m not an Angel!”

“You got wings under that dress, and I’ll get fried if I make a pass. That sounds more like an Angel to me than a Fairy. Besides, you’ve got a couple points a lot bigger than a Fairy’s.”

She gave me another glare. “Get to work, Redneck.”

“Remind me to give you a fire hydrant for your birthday.” I called out as closed the door.

I popped the chip into my liseuse and booted up.

The glittery doo has disappeared 4 days ago. The time of disappearance was between the Queen’s morning promenade and lunch, when she decides to give it another touch, for luck. At which point she’d found that her luck had run out. Three hours. Hmm. Lots of delivery truck leaving during that time, having delivered food, stationary, toilet paper, and such. Tradition still called for paper documents, when documents were kept at all. I could blame Mannie the Pigfarmer for that, back in the old days before it became a kingdom. Two hours to the main border checkpoint… Yep, slick as cattle rustling.

They’d run a thorough search of the vault, using metal detector, x-rays, and ultrasound. No false tops, sides or bottoms. More than I could say when I went drinkin’ at the Do-Drop-Inn. Nothing big enough to be Great Dump that wasn’t visually checked to be what it was supposed to be. Well, either it was gone or somebody’s paid an awful lot in bribes. Clearly an inside job.

Now if I went back and re-did the vault check, that eyeshade-wearin’ doggie would disallow the cost and my profit would go up in smoke. So I had to take their word until I had exhausted all the other possibilities. Besides, the amount of bribes paid out would show up even to a cub investigator. Nope, what I need was some legwork done in Pinwheel. And it was Winter, so I wasn’t goin’ to do it myself. Who did I know that could blend into the background, do good legwork, and could carve up any 10 French bladesmen if the need arose, without the European hoorah over shootin’ irons…? Right.

I picked up the phone and called Chicago…

“BadGoodDeb, how would you like to go to Europe on an expense account? I need some legwork done…”

[3]

Post 4

I then called VR. His human passed him the phone.

“I need some expense money, VR.”

“I’m not paying for your beer tab, Redneck.”

“I need some research done in Pinwheel.”

“You’ll blend in like a flamethrower at the Winter Carnival.”

“I want to send in a top op who’ll blend in smoother that a deer with it’s tail down. But that costs money, and you said I had a liberal expense account. And I don’t expect her to stay at the Silverfish Inn. So wire my account 10K so I can get the ball rollin’.”

“10K!!!”

“The longer you sit there scratching yourself, the longer It’ll be before you get the Diamondaceaous Doody back.”

A deep growl came over the phone, followed by, “One of these days, I’m going to catch you without your.22.”

“I love you, too. Now send the money!” I hung up the phone, and flipped on the intercom.

“Mindy, I need you to get tickets for BadGoodDeb out of Chi-town to Pinwheel on the earliest flight, and a reservation to a nice Hotel there. And a rent car. Then call BadGoodDeb and pass the info on to her.”

“Why don’t I get the fancy trips?”

“Because you’re too nice to go dive-crawling, arm-twisting, and knifing the occasional punk.”

“Well…”

“Besides, who would keep Mrs. Slocum company?”

On that note. I flipped off the intercom and settled into some serious thinking. What do you do with something you can’t sell? Well, you could look at it. There are some art nuts who’d steal The Mona Lisa to hang on the wall if they thought they could get away with it. The problem with Mona and the Coprolite was that they were too famous and too unique. The heat was just too hot for too long for even most ardent art nuts to hijack ’em. Chop it up and sell the pieces? They did that with the McFarlin Diamond (54 carats, canary yellow, for you Bond types), but there was a market for canary yellow small diamonds. The only place that’s seen gold matrix coprolite is the Pinwheel Palace and picture books. So if you cut it up and tried to sell it, people would start askin’ where it came from. And one peep outta the Palace and everybody get caught for ownin’ stolen property. Ransom? No ransom request, at least not yet. And a ransom request wouldn’t wait this long. They’d want to get the ball rollin’. Hmmm…Quite a two-pipe problem, Sherlock. Or in my case, a two Pearl problem.

I flipped the intercom on again.

“Mindy, I’m goin’ down to Bonzo’s Backfire for couple of Pearls. I need to mull this case.”

“Mull? You just want to guzzle expense-account beer!”

“That too. Shut up the shop after you get BadGoodDeb’s trip set up.”

I wandered down to the Backfire and slid into a booth. It was a high class place, no chicken wire anywhere. The jukebox was playing Robert Earl Kean’s Merry Christmas from the Family.

“A Pearl.” I told the barmaid.

After I got my beer, I settled down to think some more. So… No ransom. No chop and sell. If it was a big time collector, the big boys would have to take over. That class of gazillionare wouldn’t let me dig flower beds for ’em, much less case their joints for stolen art work. I’d just have to pass on my pointers. What else was left? There wasn’t even any fake matrix on the market, ’cause all the Rich Old Women knew that there was no Real McCoy on the market, and they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing an obvious fake, that everybody knew had to be a fake. An idea was nibbling inside my head, but I couldn’t quite make it pop out. I ordered another Pearl.

Something about fakes…How do you pass a fake as a Real McCoy? Well, it’s gotta look like a Real McCoy, and you have to have a good story to explain why the fake’s a Real McCoy. So, would it help if you had the Real McCoy to work with for making the fake? It sure would! And when you got done, you just let the Real McCoy quietly be found, and everybody’s happy. You wait a year or two, and “find” your fake, palm it off as a new Real McCoy, and milk gazillions off of Rich Old Ladies, who would never buy a fake. Feed some more fakes in the market slowly, so’s not to cheapen the price, and you’ve built a high price fake market, and nobody’s in a position to figger out the swindle…You’d need an inside man for the heist, and a fall guy for the recovery, a crooked fake opal expert, and enough money to bankroll the deal, ’cause all this wouldn’t come cheap. Other than Pinwheel, where in the world would you find the combo? You need gold mines, Opal mines, a bent corporation, and lots of expertise on makin’ fake Opals. Some place that it would seem natural to find some more Golden Coprolite.

There was only one place in the world… Oz. Was this gonna make VR happy. Heh, heh, a liberal expense account indeed…

[4]

Post 5

I rolled into the office the next mornin’, feeling almost optimistic. Since I’d showered and changed, Mrs Slocum let me stroke her a few times before bouncin’ onto the floor.

Mindy looked up. “You’ve got a call waiting. State Department.”

Oh no. Not again.

I zipped back to my desk, pronto. “Red speakin’.”

“Mr. Edward, we have a slight problem with a person said to be in your employ.”

“How slight?” I knew I wasn’t gonna like the answer.

“Apparently, the customs agent decided to frisk Ms. Deb.” Oh bleep.

“Umm. How long do the croakers think it’ll be before he gets out the fix-it shop?”

“If you mean the hospital, a couple of week, if you mean the hospital and rehab, a couple of months.”

“Well, at least she was feelin’ friendly.”

“That’s friendly, Mr. Edward?”

“I’m afraid so. If she was in a bad mood, you’d a been talkin’ to the next of kin.”

“Exactly what sort of criminal record does the young lady have?”

“That’s easy, no convictions.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly reassuring, Mr Edward.”

“It’s as good as you get in Chicago. Shucks, the new president doesn’t have any convictions either. And he’s from Chicago, too.”

A long pause at the other end. “I’m not certain you’re being particularly helpful.”

“So far, all I’ve had a chance to do is answer questions. Is she in the calaboose?”

“The what?”

“Is she currently incarcerated?” I figgered I’d better use the big words to match that big ego I was dealin’ with.

“Surprisingly enough, you name seemed to act as a talisman. They called the Embassy, who sent me.”

“Can you pass me over the head honcho there?”

A French-accented voice said, “Is this Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward?”

“It is. To whom do I have the honor of speaking with?”

“Monsieur Vutton.”

“Monsieur Claude Vutton, Holder of the Gold Cluster for honorable service to Her Majesty, Zelda, Queen of Pinwheel?”

“The very same.”

“Despite appearances, I am dealing with a matter of delicacy for the Kingdom. I cannot speak further, you must understand. I have been returned to Her Majesty’s Service by VivaldiRules.”

“The talking dog?”

“The very same. Shall I have him contact you over this matter?”

“It is not necessary. A private decree to Her Majesty’s servants, by Her Majesty herself, that VivaldiRules should be given any and all assistance as if he were Her Highness. He is currently now an acting Viceroy. I trust what you have said it true.”

“Thank you. I apologize for the short temper of my assistant. She does not take well to, how shall I say, overly vigorous searches.”

“Privately, between Servants of Her Majesty, the officer involved has a history of using his office for, well, personal satisfaction. Perhaps when he returns, he will become more considerate in carrying out his duties. Or at least more cautious.”

“If you would be able to quiet down this affair, it would be helpful for the matter at hand.”

“But of course, Sir Edward. Anything else?”

“May I speak with the lady involved?”

“Let me pass the phone.”

“That you, Red.”

“Yep. Big as life and twice as ugly. And speaking of ugly, I hired you to do quiet legwork, not bust up the Kingdom.”

“Anybody who sticks his hands where that Bozo did without an invite, isn’t going to have a hand left, next time!”

“Ok, Ok! I’ve settled down the feathers, and you won’t go to the calaboose, this time, but remember, this is a legwork assignment, not John Wayne at Normandy. Keep the body count down.”

A more contrite, “OK, Boss.”

I then laid out the extra legwork pointing to Oz.

“Remember to check out private jets in the time frame. I don’t think they flew commercial. Too risky. At the end of your legwork, go to the Palace and ask to see Poo-Bah to one of the guards. That’s code for the counter-intelligence officer of the day. Mention VR and me and ask him to spread out the check thru the rest of the EU for private planes heading to Oz in the time period. I don’t want you to reveal yourself to them officially until then. And just keep track of the shadows, and don’t send ’em to Valhalla this time. ’Course, you may want to question one or two of ’em, I’ll leave it at your discretion, if you have any.”

“Right, Boss.”

“And send me a postcard! Now let me talk to the Foggy Bottom idiot.”

“You wish to speak with me, Mr. Edward?”

“Yes. I’ve smoothed all the ruffled feathers, and have gotten Ms. Deb released without charge. I don’t want to hear this incident going up the chain any further.”

“I’m afraid you really have no authority to make that request.”

“I hear the weather’s nice in Zimbabwe this time of year.”

“Are you trying to threaten me?”

“Shucks, no. Just trying to get you promoted. I’m certain that if I put in a good word for you with, and I mentioned a name, you’ll have that promotion lickety split.”

I could just hear the back stiffening over the phone. “I doubt if you ever spoken with that person.” came the frosty response.

“One way to find out. When I tell him how you’ve help improve relationships with Pinwheel, I might even be able to squeeze you an Ambassadorship. I hear St. Helena needs an Ambassador.”

A long pause. “I don’t think I’m ready for such a lofty appointment. And my shots aren’t really current for Zimbabwe. I think the nation would be better served by my helping to maintain the excellent relations between the U.S. and Pinwheel. I’m certain that with this matter so amicably settled, there is no need to mention anything further up the diplomatic chain.”

“Well, let me know if I can help your career in any other way. Otherwise, with everything settled, I’ll let you go. Y’all have a nice day.”

[5]

Post 6

I spent the next couple of days waiting on BadGoodDeb’s report. In the meantime, I braced VR to get his end of the job rollin’.

“Howdy, VR. I need for you do to some prep work for this job. Things are still not movin’ yet, but when they let loose, I’m gonna need to move fast. And with some horsepower behind me.”

“Buy your own beans, Redneck.”

“Now that’s not the right attitude to take. I came for some simple requests to help with the diplomatic end of things, and all I’m getting is static. You’d think you weren’t interested in recovering Glittering Glop at all.”

“So far, all I’ve seen is you growing calluses on your fundamental. I’ve paid $10K so far for legwork, and all I’ve gotten for it is $100K in medical bills for the Kingdom.”

I was afraid he’d heard about BadGoodDeb. Seems I was right.

“Now, VR, if the Kingdom hadn’t hired a common pervert for a customs officer, y’all wouldn’t have that bill. Now let’s get back to our rat killin’.”

“The only rats I see getting killed are dying from old age.”

“You know, if it weren’t for queen Z, I’d let sniff out that coprolite yourself! And give you shoe leather afterburner while you’re at it.” I was gettin’ a bellyful of this arrogant doggie.

He glared at me. I glared at him.

I guess he figgered that it wouldn’t do his Viceroy gig much good if I quit on him. ’Cause then he’d have to explain why, and Certain People would not like the reason he’d have to give.

“All right, Redneck, what more do you need out of the Kingdom of Pinwheel?”

“I’ll need a diplomatic passport, and a diplomatic pouch. Possibly some international transportation. I’m assuming you already have the same for yourself.”

“My human carries the pouch.”

I heroically left off a joke or six. Now that maybe I was gettin’ some co-operation, I wasn’t gonna queer the deal.

“Right.”

“Why can’t you get them from your own country? You are a citizen, aren’t you?”

“Do you know what Foggy Bottom charges? At least $70 million in bribes—excuse me—campaign contributions, and then you gotta put up with the mamby-pamby peckin’ order crap. I tryin’ to do some work for Pinwheel, not get caught in some perpetual rump-kissin’ contest. Y’all got the vested interest, not the US. Besides, as Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward, in the international Service of Her Majesty, this is not an unreasonable request.”

“I guess not. Do you have you snapshots?”

“Right here.”

“Hand them to my human. The pouch will have to come from the D.C. embassy, so it won’t get here until tomorrow. How big?”

“Big enough to carry the glitterati and my.22, if necessary. When we recover it, we don’t want it goin’ thru customs, now do we?”

VR has the good grace to look sheepish. “No, we don’t want it to go thru customs and the Press. Anything else.”

“Not at the moment. I suspect that the missing item is outside both our countries. But until I get my op’s report back from Pinwheel, we won’t know where.”

“Do you have an idea where?”

“I have a strong idea where, but it’s just that, an idea. This frog’s not gonna hop till he hears some buzzin’. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d just as soon sweat out the wait back at my office, rather than here.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the backside, Redneck.”

So I was back at my desk, throwin’ darts at FDR, waiting for BadGoodDeb’s legwork. Once I take a case and load up the.22 with serious ammo, I don’t use it for practice ’til the case’s over.

The phone rang.

“Hello, Boss.”

“Howdy, BadGoodDeb. Is this a report call or a bailout call?”

“A report call, Boss.”

“Let me flip on the record button… OK, let ’er rip!” I don’t waste time on paper reports from the field. Mindy types ’em for the record. And complains about it. Even though I made perfectly clear that transcribing was part of the job up front. Back when Dudley was doing the job, I never got a beef.

“Per you orders, I didn’t kill anybody, although I was tempted several times. There was a body involved though. One of the queen’s bathroom attendants was found dead on the job, apparently of a heart attack.”

“Was she carryin’ the football?” I interrupted.

“Yes, she did while the queen bathed. Her Majesty didn’t like soldiers around watching when she was all wet, without any make-up. I don’t blame her.”

“Autopsy?”

“No sign of struggle, no puncture wounds. Toxicology show poison, and something called DMSO.”

“DMSO is a banned skin solvent used back in the 1950’s and ’60’s. Caused cancer in lawyers. It was used in the old days ’cause it would allow the uptake of other chemicals through the skin. That way, you could dope up a football player without running the risk of an infection. D—ned tricky to use for poisoning, you might poison yourself.”

“Right, Boss. That’s why when Her Majesty got done, she used the time-key to check on the “item”. She must have mentally pieced the two together.”

“Probably. This Queen is not stupid. Even if she has some idiots in the laundry. Did the deceased have any friends who turned up missin’?”

“Well, sort of. A friend of hers was a lady pilot, in and out of the country all the time. She was the pilot of a private LearJet and flew out that morning.”

“Let me guess. Flight plan with 4 stops end in OZ, leaving about 45 minutes after the queen started bathing.”

“Boss, you’re more that just an ugly face. The flight plan read—Pinwheel to Ankara, Ankara to Mumbai, Mumbai to Singapore, and Singapore to Darwin.”

“Now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question, just who was on the flight.”

“The pilot and a blind Scotsman with a chocolate football trophy.”

“A blind Scotsman?”

“Well, boss. He was wearing a sporran and a kilt, wearing dark glasses, and being led by a seeing-eye dog. Everybody figured that he was a blind Scotsman.”

I re-swallowed my heart. “Was the seeing-eye dog a German Shepherd, and did it get on the plane?”

“I guess it was, Boss. It did get on the plane. Why?”

“Let’s just say this case this case got very interesting, all of a sudden. Here are some explicit orders, please follow them to the letter. Go back to the palace, and see the Poo-Bah. Have him take you to a secure Fax. Call me then. I’m going to fax you three pictures, front, back, and side. Put a cover on the Fax so nobody else can see them. If the Poo-Bah start asking questions, give him to me. Take the pictures with you to the airport and see if anybody matched the pictures to the seeing-eye dog. The dog’ll probably have a few gray hairs around the muzzle not on the picture. When you are done questioning, personally burn, and I do mean burn, the faxes and grind up the ashes. Then haul A— out of Pinwheel and lose yourself in a big city, pronto. Call me then. Hop means a positive id. Lilypad means a negative id. And if it’s hop, you may have to play John Wayne at Normandy to get out. Don’t worry about the body count then.”

“Oooooh. I hope it’s hop.”

“You’re a blood-thirsty wench, BadGoodDeb.”

“Boss, you say the nicest things.”

“So scram.”

“Scramming.”

[6]

Post 7

A chocolate covered football trophy. He always did have a sense of humor. I knew what, but I didn’t know why.

I called VR.

“I hope you like sunbathing at the beach, VR.”

“Trying to stretch your expense account for a vacation?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to go to Australia.”

“Australia!!!” VR exploded.

“Australia. My op has an ID on a target that I figured pulled the heist. She’s trying to get a positive right now and get out of Pinwheel with her hide intact. There may be some bodies accumulatin’. It depends on how much backtrail protection he’s hired. And your report didn’t include the Queen’s bathroom attendant.”

“That wasn’t relevant.”

“When you hire a PI, VR, you give him all of the facts. It’s the PI’s job to determine what’s relevant. We’d’ve moved faster if you’d included that.”

I could see the nasty look even over the phone.

“You’re trying to tell me my job?”

“No, I’m trying to tell you my job. When you hire a pro anything, you have to hand it over and let the pro do it. Kibbitzing doesn’t make it go faster.”

“All right, all right, who’s the target?”

“I’ll tell you in the plane, assuming you want to tag along. If you do, have your human pack his peashooters, ’cause this may turn out like Fort Apache. If not, I’ll tell you after we recover the Lizard Load.”

“What if the bad guy wins, Redneck?”

“Mindy’ll have the football. If you try to twist her arm early, you’ll end up smelling like fried bacon. She can get a bit touchy.”

“Don’t you associate with any normal people?”

“In my business, these are normal people. Besides, you should talk.” I snickered. “And you do.”

I heard an inarticulate growl at the other end of the line.

“I’ll call you back when my op gives me the go signal.” and I hung up.

Maybe I was jumping the gun a bit, but I didn’t think so. Nothing to do now but sweat.

FDR had gained a few more holes, when the phone rang.

“That you, Deb?”

“Roger, hop.”

“Lose yourself again and call back in 20 minutes.”

I call VR, “Warm up a plane, we’re heading for Oz.”

“Where in Oz? If you say Bondi, I’ll nip you.”

“Canberra. We’ve got to get the preliminary diplo work done, mate. Then on to Darwin, unless my op has some specific information. Besides, we’ll need to wait on her. Have the boys at the embassy there to get her a pouch and immunity paperwork.”

“You idiot, you’re gonna start a war!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there to ride herd over her. Gotta sign off, she’s gonna call back any minute.”

A couple of minutes later the hone rang again. “That you again?”

“Of course it’s me. You were expecting the Pope, maybe?”

“Naw, just an encyclopedia salesman. You clean?”

“Yes boss, no tails at all.”

“Good. What was the body count?”

“Just a little automobile accident. I think four. Avis isn’t going to like the bullet holes in the rent car.”

“That’s why you get the extra insurance. Nobody else?”

“No. Once I got across the border, there didn’t seem to be any pickup of me. No tails or anything else.”

“Didn’t think so. Too expensive. So put on your old lady makeup and use the back-up passport. You’re heading to Oz. Catch the first flight to Canberra. Meet us at the Pinwheel embassy soonest. I’ll have a little present for you. I’ve got your spare ironmongery in a diplomatic pouch, plus diplomatic immunity and a pouch all of your own waiting. Question, do you have any more on the plane or passengers?”

“Yes, Boss.—”

“It’ll wait until we get together.” I interrupted her, then sighed. “I gotta dog-sit on the way over.”

“Boss, you do know how to make a girl feel pretty. There’s nothing like a few sleek weapons to cheer me right up.”

“Shucks, I bet you say that to all the P.I.s.”

“Only the ones who pay me.”

“See you in Canberra.”

I then went into the reception room. “Mindy, I’m going to Australia.”

“You’re sure it’s not a warmer climate?”

“I’ll get there soon enough, don’t rush me. Here’s the scoop on the case.”

I then proceeded to tell everything I knew or surmised about the case, while stroking Mrs. Slocum.

“You’ve got the football. Stall anything else until I get back. I can’t say when. Certainly not less than a week.”

“No travel again. Why do I keep this job?”

“When we bring the dingus back, you get two weeks on the Big Island. Ok?”

“Fancy hotel?”

“Done. So I’m headin’ over to VR’s. Where’s the Aussie cellphone?”

[7]

Post 8

“All right, VR, you’re the money pooch. How do we get to Oz?”

“In your case, how about in a shark’s stomach.”

“No whale? I know you’re cutting corners, but you oughta have some taste.”

“I couldn’t get you inside a shark anyway, professional courtesy only goes so far. What’s in your pouch? It looks like it weighs a ton.”

“Pretty close. Just gifts for pretty girls.”

VR shook his head. “Let me guess, none of this would pass a commercial airline metal detector.”

“Give the doggie a slab of bacon!”

“I am not a doggie!” growled VR. “I hired you!”

“By the by, how do you diplomats smuggle your diplomatic pouches in when the don’t meet commercial airliner spec?”

“Professional secret. I figured you would do this. I’ve chartered a plane with one of our own people as pilot.”

“Who?”

“Pshynk.”

Goody. A talking dog and a flying shrink. Lord, the things I do for money…

“When will it be ready to vamanos?”

“If you mean leave, it’s waiting for us at the airport.”

“Mount up, Buell.”

So VR, his human, and I headed to the airport. We went to the private plane area, where VR’s human waved the Diplomatic papers around, which got us through without any searches. I was pulling a trolley with all the bags and diplomatic pouches.

Hauling up all those bags was a bear, since as we had waved those Diplomatic papers, nobody could touch the bags but us. I think VR wants me to be a baggage handler in my next life.

I finally got the last bag in and collapsed into a seat. The launch slot was in another 30 minutes. I decided to take a little nap.

I woke up to the engines warming up. We got in line for takeoff. Eventually we got to first in line, and off we went.

About 30 seconds later, VR hopped up on the chair next to me. “All right, redneck, we’re on our way. Start talking.”

“Ok, did I ever tell you about the time the red-headed barmaid—”

“Stop! STOP! You blithering idiot! What about the guy who stole the Golden Coprolite!”

“Oh, him. I don’t really know who stole it.”

VR bared his teeth. I could tell I was about to get an armful of teeth if I didn’t stop baiting him. Pity. Baiting him was more fun than the case had been, so far.

“VR, you hired me to find the Golden Coprolite, not who stole it in the first place. Besides, you want the mastermind, not the small fry. Calm down.”

“Then try to be more co-operative than a politician at a press conference!”

“Weeelll, you’re not going to like the answer. Matter of fact you’re going to hate the answer. First look at these pictures.” I showed him the front, side, and back.

“Looks, like a German Shepherd.”

“Yep, not just any German Shepherd. It’s Ralph von Wau Wau. I managed to sneak these shots during the Royal Bastich case. They are some of the few known pictures in existence of him. He always used a stand-in for the book pictures. He figured that all German Shepherds looked alike to the public. I have confirmed that he was in Pinwheel at the time of the heist, and went aboard a private jet with his current human, named GeoffC, who was carrying a chocolate football trophy, which was comfortable large enough to carry the Golden Coprolite in it. The private jet just happened to be piloted by a good friend of the dead queen’s bath attendant. Who had been carrying the time-lock key to the vault, among other head-of-state communication devices, commonly know as “the football”, at the time of her death. Ralph always had a sense of humor.”

VR had kinda gone blank and just sorta sat there. It’s hard on people to find out their idol is a crook. Especially, on a talking doggie who only had a couple of peers.

“So, which side are you on, Ralph’s or the Queen’s?”

VR looked up. “The Queen’s. She scratches me much better. I assume the jet went to Oz?”

“Yep. And you know that Ralph is smarter than both of us put together. I have reason to suspect that his plan will take place in Oz, under a corporate cover. What corporation, and where, I still don’t have a clue. Yet. As to why he did it, I don’t know. And I mean the why behind the why. Maybe we’ll get more info from BadGoodDeb in Canberra. Meanwhile, I need to rack out for a few hours. How ’bout you going up and chattin’ with the pilot. Make him earn his keep.”

I slumped over and joined the dreamtime…

[8]

Post 9

I was humming Arlo Guthrie’s “Coming Into Los Angeles” as we made final approach into Canberra. It seemed appropriate.

“Will you quit with the noisemaking. You sound like a drunken hive of bees.”

“If you think my humming’s bad, you should hear my singing.”

“Merde!”

Pshrynk made a nice landing. As we were disembarking, Pshrynk asked us, “What do I do now?”

“You got a workin’ cellphone here?”

“Yes.” He gave me the number.

“Ok. Stay within 30 minutes travel time of the plane, and stay sober. Have the rest of the crew stay the same. We made be leaving soon, but figure at least 1-2 hours before we do anything. If we end up stumpted here, then we’ll go to Darwin.”

“You guys are finicky customers.”

“Talk to the money pooch. I’m just the hired help.”

I got another hernia unloading the bags. Next time Pinwheel was gonna spring for a vetted baggage handler as part of the deal.

An Aussie customs officer wandered over to the plane. “Customs check is over there.” He pointed to the main terminal.

“’Fraid not, this time. See the markings? Here’s my passport and the dog’s passport.”

“Assistant Consul, and Ambassador-at-Large for Pinwheel? Why weren’t we notified.”

“’Cause this is a high-level flap we’re dealing with. Officially, we’re not here. Unofficially, we’re trying to keep it hush hush. The Australian Government has been notified (fat chance, I thought) but for the same reason, they’re keepin’ it under their hats. No worries, mate, she’s right.”

“I hate dealing with diplos…”

“I know, we mess up your job. But if you would just stamp the passports so we can haul this stuff over the embassy car, over there by the private gate, we’d be obliged. Besides, if we get kicked out of the country, I’ll make a point of lettin’ you do the kickin personally.”

The agent grinned and said, “Right, mate.” He stamped the passports. “Welcome to Oz.”

At least the driver helped load the bags. We got into the back seat, along with the extra bags, and rolled to the embassy. It was heaven. I didn’t have to unload anything!

The ambassador meet us at the door. “The Pinwheel embassy is honored to have your presence, Viceroy VivaldiRules and Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward.”

“We’re please to accept you hospitality, Ambassador.” said VR. I just nodded. Fancy words aren’t my style.

After we got in the embassy, I asked the Ambassador, “Can I make a call to the US? I need to check on the status of another member of the party, who’s in transit commercially from Pinwheel.”

“Certainly.” And led me to a phone.

I dialed up Mindy’s cell phone. I got a blurry, “Who’s there?”

“It’s your boss, live and in color.”

“Boss, do you know what time it is?”

“Time to answer my question so you can go back to sleep. When is BadGoodDeb gonna arrive at Canberra?”

Another blurry “Uh…Another 7 hours.”

“Goodnight, Mindy. Don’t cramp your wings.”

“Goodn’ght…” Click.

I turned to the Ambassador. “We’ll have another member of the party arriving at the airport on a commercial flight in 7 hours. If somebody from the embassy could help her thru customs, it’ll save time. She’ll be traveling as an old lady under the name Enola Emmel. When she gets here, we’ll give you a full briefing. Until then, we’re lagged out.

Can we get a bed around here until then?”

We got led to the VIP quarters and I crashed.

[9]

Post 10

I was eatin’ what passed for breakfast, when a junior flunky came by and told me that BadGoodDeb was in the car, on her way to the Embassy. I had him set up a conference room with an eats tray, ’cause I figgered she would be ravenous after trying to eat airliner food. I also had him notify the Ambassador of the meetin’.

I went over to VR’s room. “Rise ’n’ Shine, snookums. You got 15 minutes to go inspect the trees before the meetin’.”

VR gave me his usual nasty look, but he must’ve had some biological backpressure, as he went toddling off.

I went to the conference room and waited. VR showed up ’round 15 minutes later.

A few minutes later, Ambassador Gaurnim showed up with BadGoodDeb, still with her Enola Emmel make-up on.

“Eats!” She squealed.

“Let me make intros, and you can fill your plate. The dog in the chair is Acting Viceroy VivaldiRules. He’s paying for this shindig. I believe you’ve met Ambassador Gaurnim. If you don’t have pictures handy, his staff will take ’em for your new Pinwheel passport. You’ll have diplomatic immunity, so don’t start any fights. They might cause a war. You also get a diplomatic pouch to keep you toys in.”

“You brought my toys?”

“All that would fit. You big one doesn’t, but I brought a special replacement.”

“Betsy?”

“Yep. I figgered we might need some long range support before this is over.”

“Who or what is Betsy?” VR asked.

“Betsy is a.50 cal Browning Machine Gun round sniper rifle. Weighs 35 pounds or 16 kilos. Accurate to 3.5 kilometers. BadGoodDeb is fully checked out on it. So am I. I can guarantee that Ralph von Wau Wau won’t be throwin’ powder puffs at us when we catch him.”

Ambassador Gaurnim cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could start from the beginning.”

So I gave him the tale from the beginning.

“So you see, somewhere in Oz is Ralph and the Golden Coprolite. My guess is that they want to make fakes for the jewelry market, and want to use the real one as a analysis/comparison piece. I figger that the must have their process basically finished, and this is the final checkout work. But where they are and their timeline is still unknown. So BadGoodDeb, what have you found out about the plane.”

“The plane is owned by Montsnmags Internation. It isn’t the CEO’s jet, it’s the senior management’s on call jet, shared by all the divisions. The pilot’s listed her employer as Montsnmags Mining Research PTY. So far, it’s consistent.”

“Ambassador Gaurnim, do we know the current location of the jet, and it’s flight history?”

“It refueled in Darwin and flew straight to Perth. Everybody disembarked, and new pilot flew it back to corporate headquarters in Sydney. It’s made several trips in the last few days. Last word had it in Melbourne.”

“Let me guess. Montsnmags Mining Research has a R & D research center a few hours away by car.”

“Let me check.” Ambassador Gaurnim walked over to a computer and looked up Montsnmags Mining Research. “Yes, according to their offical records.”

VR sneered, “this is a path that a five year old could find. Even you, Redneck.”

“You’re right, VR. Either Ralph wanted to lay out a whopper big red herring, or else he wants me to follow this path.”

“Why would he want that?” BadGoodDeb asked.

“I don’t know why. I haven’t figger out the why behind the why in this case. But one thing is crystal clear. This has trap painted all over it, in mile high letters. And this trap was set for me personally.”

“You’re just being a egomaniac, Redneck.” VR offered.

“Really? Why did you come hire me? Ralph had the Kingdom’s response pegged.”

“Isn’t pursuing this liable to be, ahem, dangerous.” said the Ambassador.

“Naw, it certain to be dangerous. It’s liable to be deadly. Ralph didn’t set this up just to give me a wet doggie kiss.”

“Are you going to go in anyways, Redneck?”

“That’s why you’re paying the big bucks, doggie.”

For once, VR didn’t say anything about being called Doggie…

[10]

Post 11

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“What’s the plan, boss?’

“I guess we go knock on the door and ask to see Ralph.”

VR just sorta stared.

“Don’t worry, VR. You can come along to see I’m not wasting any of her Majesties’ money.”

He finally found his voice. “Diplomatic immunity doesn’t stop bullets.”

“And permanently misplacing the Paleozoic Patty doesn’t leave a Viceroy with much of a career either. Besides, I have a job for you to do.”

“What job?”

“I’ve been keepin’ this in a sealed jar. It’s a piece of some beddin’ Ralph used back then. You need to learn his scent. That way you can identify the real Ralph von Wau Wau.”

“What makes you think my nose it that good?”

“I see it stuck in everywhere, I figger it’s good enough. Especially when you other end is on the line.”

VR didn’t make any further response.

“Now, as I figger it, we can’t call in the Aussie military, ’cause if we do, the whole cat’s out of the bag. And Pinwheel can’t provide any support for the same reason. So it’s all on us. Now Ambassador, can you send a couple of croakers and some trauma supplies to Perth? We may need some patchin’ up before this is over.”

“Croakers? What is a croaker?”

“Sorry, Ambassador. That’s Runyonese for a doctor.”

“Oh. I think so.”

“Good. Now when this pops, y’all aren’t gonna be able to pull me out of it. Not enough people, and not enough firepower. So once the doors close, we’re on our own. The only thing you might do then is create a diversion. I’ll call for that if it’s do any good. Right now I don’t foresee it.”

BadGoodDeb said, “That’s not much of a plan.”

“I know, but there’s no way to get any more facts to plan with. We’ll just play it by ear. I’m betting on a combination of curiosity and arrogant viciousness. He’ll want to have his say before he bumps me off, or else he would’ve used a sniper weeks ago. VR,”

VR looked up. “Yes?”

“Give Pshrynk a ring and have him get the plane ready to go. It’s time to giddy-up.”

We loaded up and headed for Perth.

[11]

Post 12

After we got there, we rented a 18 wheeler for the croakers and their gear, with plenty of leftover spaces for hauling things back. The rest of us split into two cars and headed out to the headquarters. Per orders, the 18 wheeler stopped 10 kilometers from the site. I also left one car there. The rest of us piled into one car and headed on.

I had us stop about 2 klicks from the main entrance.

“OK, here is where we split up. BadGoodDeb. You pick youself out a nice sniper nest about 3 klicks from main entrance door. We’ll back you up ’til you’re in place. VR’s human will cover your back. Then VR and I’ll take a little stroll. Remember the sniff I gave you. Ralph likes to play games with doubles. Ears back, he’s real. Ears down, he’s a double. Now let’s get rollin’.”

‘Bout ten minutes later, BadGoodDeb gives us the set sign.

“Well, Doggie, time to take a stroll.”

“We’re going to be sitting ducks.”

“Naw, we’re gonna be walking ducks.”

“You’re really instilling confidence in me.”

“Shall I put a leash on you?”

“You try and I’ll tear out your throat myself!”

“So let’s go take that hike to Valhalla. That’s what Her Majesty pays us for. Besides, the weathers nice. It’s a good day to die.”

So we walked along the road toward the main entrance. There were some big ornamental rocks along the road. As we got to the third one, suddenly there was a burst of dust right next to us and a sound like ripping linoleum. I reached for VR and did a rollin’ dive behind the rock, all in one motion. VR lay next to the rock, making a puddle.

“Welcome to the front lines, VR.”

“S-s—shut up, you ‹bleep›ing Redneck.”

I tapped my lapel. “Who’s got the MG42, Deb? Anybody we know?”

“Yep, Ralph’s human, GeoffC. Shall I take him out?”

“Who’s his No 2.”

“Nobody. The belt is coming out of a huge box.”

“Time for some fancy shootin’, Deb. See if you can hit the MG42’s receiver.”

“Well, I’ll try. Probably take a couple shots. I hope he doesn’t track me after the first shot. Why not the human?”

“Professional courtesy. Finding a human that works with a talking dog isn’t easy. I don’t want to rile Ralph up unnecessarily.”

“He’s already shooting at you.”

“Just follow the orders, Deb.”

“OK, Boss.”

A few moments later, I heard the big bark of the.50 cal, followed by a curse from BadGoodDeb. Then another big bark, followed by a chortle from Deb.

‘Look at the guy run!”

“Got the gun?”

“Sure, Boss. Right in the receiver.”

“Take a look around on IR and see if you see any other welcoming committees.”

A couple minutes later, “No, Boss.”

“All right, VR, let’s finish our stroll.”

I went slow for a few meters until VR’s legs got a little steadier. By the time we got to the fancy shrubbery by the front door, VR had calmed down a little. We walked over to the door, which I opened. VR walked in, followed by me.

The change was shocking. From the heat and the dust of the outback, to a stereotypical air-conditioned corporate reception room, complete with your standard corporate receptionist.

“Welcome to Montsnmags Mining Research Center. Can I help you gentlemen?”

[12]

Post 13

I’ve learned to take these sort of shocks in stride, ever since I got mooned by a nurse while I was in ICU once. So I put on my most suave and debonair attitude, and asked,

“May we see Ralph von Wau Wau.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“He usually doesn’t see people without an appointment.”

“If you’ll inform him that we’re here, I believe he’ll make an exception in this case.”

“Whom shall I announce?”

“Ralph Sir Edward and VivaldiRules.”

She put on the hush and spoke to someone. She hung up and smiled.

“He can see you in 15 minutes. Would you care to have a seat while you wait. Perhaps a cup of coffee?”

I sat down. “Nothing to drink, thank you.”

Obviously Ralph was keeping Army time. Hurry up and wait. The better to make us nervous, my pretty…

Finally a Scotsman came in. He was wearin’ a kilt anyways.

“Ralph Sir Edward? I’m GeoffC.”

“Pleased to meet ’cha. This is my sidekick, VR.”

“Hello, VR.”

VR continued to look dumb, per agreement. Maybe Ralph didn’t know that VR talked. Never show your cards unless you have to.

“If you’ll follow me, please.”

He led us down several hallways, and held open door into a large, empty room.

We went in, and GeoffC started to frisk me. I did the classic yank and flip, leaving GeoffC flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. A voice over the intercom said. “Now that wasn’t very nice, Herr Edward.”

“Never trust a Scotsman wearin’ a kilt feelin’ behind you.”

“Perhaps you have a point. If you would be so kind as to slide your.22 over towards a corner.” I pulled out my hogleg and slid it off to one side. VR sort’a toddled off to the other side.

“Good. Now what do I have the honor of your presence? You never were the ‘go see the old buddies’ type.”

“First, I’ve disarmed. How ’bout sending you human out of the room. He wasn’t part of our ‘old times’”

“You could frisk him.”

“I don’t think I want to frisk a Scotsman in a kilt.”

“Another good point. He might return the flip. Geoff, wait outside. I should be able to handle this Texas gentleman without your assistance.”

“Fine, Sir.” he got to his feet and left through the door we came in.

“All right Red, let’s talk. You pick the topic.”

“Dung.”

“Dung?”

“Particularly rock-hard glittery dung?’

“Oh Ho.” Ralph chortled. “You mean this dung?”

Part of the wall in front of me suddenly folded away like a pair of big double doors. In the next room was what looked like the Golden Coprolite, sitting on a pedestal, with a spotlight on it.

[13]

Post 14

I gave the long distance dung a gander and said, “Maybe.”

“You don’t believe me? Go take a closer look.”

“Now, Ralph, you’re probably got that thing booby-trapped 6 ways from Sunday. I think I’ll just gaze at it from here, Thank y’all anyways.”

“Of course it’s not. 97 ways from Sunday might be more accurate. And I’m the only one who knows how to deactivate them all.”

“Sounds like you hold all the Aces, Ralph. Why don’t you at least come out and say ‘Hi’ before you bump us off?”

VR started peeing on the floor again. I didn’t know he had any left in him.

“You might try some trick, Red.”

“Well, true, but then again you always said a German Shepherd was worth any three men in a rough and tumble. Tell you what, I’ll back up against the door. Your human, whom I made a point of not bumping off, is just outside. He’ll hit that door on your command and knock me sprawling before I could do anything, anyways.”

Long silence.

“Ok, back up against the door slowly.”

I did so, putting my hands behind I managed to slip my right hand in my back pocket and slipped out a dozen pennies, which I had in both back pockets. I reached the door.

“Good enough, Ralph?”

I heard a soft bark, and a door opened near the doorway to the display. A German Shepherd walked in, and looked at VR standing in a puddle of pee. He walked to the center of the room.

“Can’t you afford a better dog than that?”

“Ralph, you know what honest PI’s get paid. He’s all I can afford. Even then, I have’ta juggle the books occasionally.”

I glanced at VR, His ears were back, flat as he could get ’em.

“Ralph, what is this really all about?”

He looked at me. “Milking a billion out of rich old women isn’t motive enough for you, Red.”

“No it’s not. Ralph, you’re smart enough to milk a billion or two out of the system without litterin’ the landscape with bodies. Look at the money you’re already made with all the book deals and such. So what’s the real burr under your saddle.”

“Why should I tell you.”

“Think of it as a dyin’ man’s last request. We were pards once, remember. Beside’s, you’ve got everything planned down to the last detail, anyway.”

“Yeah.” An evil light seemed to gleam in his eyes.

“Honest PI. Honest and dumb. Typical smooth ape. Good hands and no brains. But like any ape, you cheat when you can. But Pinwheel picked the wrong dog to cheat. And you’re all paying the price for cheating me.”

While he was talking, my body shielded my right hand. Which was busy pennying the door. Win, lose or draw, this was gonna be over in a couple of minutes. And there wasn’t gonna be any draw.

“Cheat?” I said (and was) puzzled, “How did you get cheated. You got the prize you asked for.”

“PRIZE!” he screamed, “YOU CALL THAT A PRIZE? SHE WAS FIXED!!!”

That’s when VR charged him from the rear three-quarted angle. I charged straight for the.22.

Ralph von Wau Wau started to turn to meet VR and saw me move as his forequarters turned. He knew if I could get the gun, it was curtains for him. He tried to shift back to me and slipped. He got onto his feet, starting to charge me, when VR hit him, following the three rules of dirty fighting.

The howl could’da been heard all the way to Melbourne. My hand grabbed the butt of the.22. I brought the gun in line as Ralph turned howling to try to get at VR. Phut, Phut, Phut, went the.22. Three through the pump. Ralph started gushing blood.

I continued my roll and brought the gun to bear at the door. The first bang held, but the second one didn’t. GeoffC came in with a Glock in hand, but my.22 was already zeroed on him.

“DROP IT. DROP IT. You’ll never get it on target before you take one through the pump!”

He froze just long enough for him to lose the initiative. He knew I had the drop on him, so he dropped the gun.

“Now kick it over to the corner.”

He did.

Now go over to the other corner and strip.

“Strip?”

“Right, strip! To the buff! I’m not takin’ any chances on a holdout!”

He started slinging clothes. When he was naked, I said. “Turn around slow.”

When it was obvious the only weapons he had left were the ones nature had equipped him with, I said, “Now go stand in the far corner.”

He promptly did. Only then, did I look at VR.

VR was a blood splattered mess. “You Ok, VR?”

“Sure, Red. It’s all Ralph’s blood. You’re bl—dy quick with that gun.”

“Complaints, still?”

“No, thanks still.”

Yep, Ralph had had everything figgered. Everything except a smart Doggie, chewing his cojones off.

I called BadGoodDeb. “Have the Ambassador call his opposite number pronto. We’ve taken care of Ralph, but we don’t have the Dinosaur Dropping yet, and I don’t want this to turn into a Fort Apache.”

“Are you and VR OK?”

“Sure, although I’m afraid this adventure left a bad taste in VR’s mouth. And have the Ambassador have the Aussies to bring some metal detectors.”

“OK, Boss. The Ambassador is already talking to the Aussie equivalent of our Secretary of State now.”

I went and did a one-handed search of GeoffC’s clothes. They were clean. I pitched him a handful. “Go ahead and get presentable. It looks like you’re going to have to find a new gig.”

“I guess it’ll be behind bars.”

“Not necessarily. Ralph’s checks are now rubber, so if you help us find and sort out the process notes and the samples, we can get you out of here under diplomatic immunity, as a Pinwheel spy. You’ll be kicked out of the country, but that beats jail.”

“It certainly does. I’m your man.”

“Ok, VR?”

“Sure, Red. We do need his help.”

GeoffC goggled. “He talks too?’

“Yep, usually too much.” I reached over and scratched him behind his ears.

[14]

Post 15

GeoffC led me to the research office, where all the papers were, and a half a dozen pre-production samples of fake coprolite, weighing about kilo each. I pocketed three of them for later analysis by Pinwheel. Ralph was officially “still in conference”, undoubtedly discussing with Old Nick his accommodations and pecking order. I called BadGoodDeb to come in with one of the pouches while I was waiting for the bureaucrats to show up. She gathered up the shootin’ irons and the three coprolites and headed out.

“Remember Deb, I don’t want any of these coprolites to sprout legs. I’ll see about gettin’ you something made after this mess is over, but ’til then, hands off.”

“You’re no fun.” And she stuck out her tongue. “You’re sure you want to meet all those soldiers naked?”

“Yep. If I have any hardware, it’ll just make ’em trigger happy. I’ll have to talk ’em down, anyway.”

“Good luck, Boss.”

“Now git, before they get around to showin’ up.”

It took the wheels of injustice about 4 hours to arrive at the front door. Not bad for 12 levels of three different bureaucracies. About 5 PM 6 truckload of soldiers showed up, accompanied by a SWAT team (apparently from Perth), led by a senior assistant flunky from the Australian diplomatic corps, assisted by an Army Major. I’ll bet the receptionist had a good time with her “Welcome to Montsnmags” routine.

The brass made to the room where Ralph was “in conference”.

A loud voice yelled, “Come out with your hands up!”

I responded. “We don’t all have hands in here.”

That seemed to be a poser.

“Besides, this here is the temporary portable ice cream stand/embassy for the nation of Pinwheel. We’re accepting fully credentialed diplomatic personnel, and we’ll even stretch a point and tolerate a few military personnel as guards. IS THERE A DIPLOMAT IN THE HOUSE?”

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“Please identify yourself,” I said.

“I am Fredrick Jones, Assistant Permanent Undersecretary for the Nation of Pinwheel. May I enter the Embassy?”

“Come in if you’re friendly. The door’s not locked.”

Fred came in with the Army Major and what I took to be the head of the SWAT team. He sorta turn green with Ralph’s body lyin’ there in the middle of the floor.

“Fred, can you have the SWAT boys bring in a bag for Ralph?” I looked at the other two. “Don’t worry, the shootin’ all over. But Pinwheel will need your assistance in a little while.”

The SWAT head started talking softly on his phone.

When he got done. I started talking.

“Guys, everythin’ going on here is a state secret for both nations. Or what you military types call Highly Classified. If you can’t or won’t keep your mouth shut, please leave now. Fred here is the decision maker as to who talks and how much. Roger?”

Fred nodded and look at his companions. “Despite his uncouth manner of speech.” Uncouth indeed. He’ll pay for that crack! “Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward is correct. This is involving the highest level Diplomatic relations between countries. Everything that has happened, and will happen, will officially never have occurred. Do I make myself clear?”

The Army major and the SWAT chief agreed, but the SWAT chief didn’t look too happy about it. Fred said, “I’ll personally talk to your mayor and Chief of Police.” That seemed to perk him right up.

The body bag showed up with a couple of people and they bagged up Ralph.

“Adios, compadre.” I said softly. “May the Lord have mercy on your soul.”

After they left, I pointed to the Golden Coprolite on the stand, in the other room. “That’s what the hoorah is all about.”

Fred kinda googled. “That’s the Golden Coprolite! What’s it doing here?”

“The late doggie y’all just hauled out of here had it stolen. Don’t go over there, it’s highly booby-trapped.”

“How do you know?” said the SWAT chief.

“I have the late doggie’s word on it. I wouldn’t want to bet against it. Besides, I think it’s a fake.”

Fred said, “You can tell at this distance?”

“Well, I knew the doggie, and it would be just like him to booby-trap a fake. Ralph had a sense of humor.” I looked at the other two. “Yes, the deceased was the famous talking dog, Ralph von Wau Wau. The whole deal was about making and marketing fake golden coprolite as the Real McCoy. Let’s go over to the research office, where there are samples and all the workin’ notes.”

They looked over the notes and the samples. “Fred,” I said, “why don’t you place some guards over this stuff, until you can move it to a safer place? Besides, Pinwheel and Australia need to sort out what to do about the process. And that’s beyond both our pay grades.”

Fred nodded. “You’re right.” And had the major put some soldiers around the room.

“Where do you think the real Coprolite is?” Fred asked.

“Where do doggies bury their bones? In the back yard, of course. That’s why I asked for metal detectors. I need to have the couple of hundred meters behind this building swept for big metal masses. Check for location and type of metal. But don’t, repeat don’t, dig up anything without my say-so. I expect some more booby traps. Now Fred, I need to give VR here a bath, and we both need a bite to eat and some sleep. We’re gonna go back to the embassy’s 18 wheeler and rack out. See ya in the mornin’. Come on, VR.”

The next mornin’ we all showed up, and the major had a chart of big masses. 6 showed iron, 3 showed gold, and one was aluminum.

“Yeah, the mine sweeper was certain it was a beer keg.” the Army major said.

“Well, the beer keg’s got to be it.”

“How do you figure that.”

“The hide-out had to be easily identified by the crook, with minimal time and minimal equipment. But at the same time, not obviously what somebody would think of as the loot. A beer keg would be perfect. Big enough for the golden coprolite, and a survival kit, and who would suspect a old beer keg?”

So they dug up the beer keg, which had a harness and skids on it. I did the honors of opening it. It didn’t go bang.

And inside it was the Golden Coprolite, and a survival kit.

“Fred,” I said, as I turn to the diplomat and bowed, “This is the rightful property of the Kingdom of Pinwheel. I am now taking it, as personal agent of Her Majesty, Queen of Pinwheel, to return it to it’s rightful owner. On behalf of the Commonwealth of Australia, do you object?”

Fred bowed just as formally, “On Behalf of the Commonwealth of Australia, I recognize your claim and approve your taking the Golden Coprolite for return to the Kingdom of Pinwheel, the rightful owner.”

“All right BadGoodDeb, call Pshrynk to warm up the jet, we’re goin’ back to Pinwheel.”

And we did.

[15]

Post 16

I met the Queen in a private room, with VR along with me. I carefully opened the bag, and handed the Queen the Golden Coprolite.

“I have returned what is rightfully yours, Your Majesty.”

She slowly turned it over and over in her hands.

Finally she said, “Yes, this is the real Golden Coprolite. There are certain unique markers that I don’t think Ralph van Wau Wau would have thought to forge.”

“Which ones?” asked VR. I gave him a quick nudge with my shoe.

She looked down. “Those are only to be known by the royalty of Pinwheel.”

She then looked at me. “Both of you have acquitted yourselves well in My Service on behalf of Pinwheel. How shall I reward you?”

“I like the term acquitted, Your Majesty. It describes the matter very well. I never could figger out why he was out to get both Your Majesty and myself. Oh, he wanted the money, no doubt, but there was more that money behind this. What could have caused the simmering rage behind this whole crime. There were easier ways to have gotten the Golden Coprolite back, but I had to know why.

Well, right there at the end, he told me. The gift of the female French Poodle you had given him, at his request, had been spayed. I had gotten a Knighthood and a medal, and he had been cheated, as he saw it. A being with his brains and ego just couldn’t tolerate being cheated. He was going to get his back, with interest.

But who cheated him? I had nothing to do with it, and I know Your Majesty would not have…ahem… short changed him with Her gift. So who? It had to be somebody who had a reason and opportunity to cheat Ralph. Somebody who acted as a go-between Your Wishes and Ralph’s reward. Somebody who was jealous of Ralph’s claim to Your affections. I called Your Seneschal about who actually picked the Poodle in question.”

I looked down at the shivering little doggie. “Better cop a plea, VR.”

“Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said VR in a broken voice. “I, I wanted to be your favorite dog. I couldn’t compete with that smart, handsome, hero dog. I, I just wanted to get back at him, somehow. I never thought it would lead to this. That’s why I took the intelligence assignment in the US. I was afraid I’d be found out. All I wanted was to sit in your lap and be scratched behind my ears. Now, I’m facing the gas chamber for treason.”

He broke down.

“What would you have me do, Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward?’

“Pardon him, Your Majesty. He acquitted himself in battle, without his courage I wouldn’t be here, and the Kingdom would have lost it’s wereguild. Let this be a State Secret.”

The Queen thought. “No, I cannot have such a State Secret. Let it be part of your record. However. Rise, VivaldiRules. We have been touched by your courage and devotion. You are pardoned of your crime. Furthermore, you are now required to journey once a year, as long as you are able to travel, to spend one week a year as my personal companion, complete with scratching.”

VR flattened to his belly. (His equivalent of kneeling.)

“Arise, VivaldiRules. And now please leave Us with Sir Sir Ralph Sir Edward.”

After VR had left the chamber and I closed the door.

“D—nit, Red, why won’t you say yes?”

“Zelda, I can’t be anybody’s fancy man, not even yours.”

“Pfff, it’s not hard. Just look down you nose at the snobs, and be friendly with everybody else.”

“I won’t be your Prince Consort.”

“You won’t even come see me unless there’s a crisis. Then you get to have all the fun. And I have to pay for it! It’s just not fair! This time you’ll pay for your fun. To get your money, you’ll have to write up this case for ME. No case notes, no money.” She grinned wickedly.

Great. More paperwork. I hate paperwork.

“What about the fake coprolite?” Two could play the change subject game.

“Keep one of the nodules for yourself, since you refuse to be co-operative. I already started quiet government-to-government talks with Australia, about commercializing the process. I hope to sell them as authorized reproductions in limited quantities, with a 50/50 split to each government. We’ll see. Governments always need money. To pay for beasts like you.”

That was probably the best way the cards could be played now.

“I hear you still have several rounds left in that silencered.22 of yours.”

“And if I do?”

“I have a very private target range near here. Maybe we could practice some… marksmanship.”

“I think I could spend some time here. We could go to the range, and squeezed off a few rounds…”

“You’re sure you’re up to it?”

“I’m always in the Service of Her Majesty…”

[16]

EPILOG

After I finally got back from Pinwheel. I tacked BadGoodDeb’s postcard on the bulletin board in the waiting room and sent Mindy on her 2 week vacation to the Big Island. I used the time to have a pendant carved out of the fake coprolite nodule.

I greeted Mindy when she came back in. “Enjoy your vacation, Mindy?”

“About time I got some fringe benefits working here.” she said, as Mrs. Slocum head-bumped her.

“Speakin’ of fringe benefits, there’s a box on your desk. a memento of the case. I’ve got a private conference call, so if you’ll take over the show, I’ll get to it.”

I went into my office. And slid straight out the window and down the fire escape. I figger I have about 35 seconds to get around the corner, before she opens the box and comes stormin’ into my office and looks out the window, ready to fry me.

It’s a fine piece of carving. Real pretty. ’Course, it’s carved in the shape of a fire hydrant…

[17]

CONCORDANCE

Post 1

Mrs. Slocum—Mature lady in the BBC show Are You Being Served? Known in the show for always talking about her cat at home in a less-than-genteel manner.

Silencered.22—According to Raymond Chandler, the use of a large caliber handgun was the mark of an incompetent pistol shooter. While the author disagrees, he decided to maintain the Chandler tradition.

.22 BB Cap—A specialized.22 round, designed for extremely short ranged target shooting. It consist of a single BB, held in place by a crimped cartridge end, without a powder charge. The charge is only the.22 primer in the rim.

Pearl beer—Known to be the cheapest, vilest beer in South Texas. Drinking it was considered a clear sign or either lack of money, lack of taste, or a lack of brains.

Ralph von Wau Wau—A German Shepherd dog who had been surgically enhanced to have an I.Q. of 180 and the ability to talk. Created fictionally by Philip Jose Farmer in his parody of Kurt Vonnegut’s writing in the book Venus On The Half-Shell, which was ascribed to Kilgore Trout. For more history about Ralph von Wau Wau, please see Doc Savage, His Apocalyptic Life, Addendum 1.

The Bird—Not the Jazz musician. A fictionalization (by various authors) of Harlan Ellison’s derisive pseudonym, Cordwainer Bird, which he used when he feels his scripts have been modified without authorization. See also notes on Ralph von Wau Wau.

Big Ear—Generic term for a parabolic microphone. Used to listen to conversations at a distance.

Wadcutters—Square-edged bullets, designed to create the most damage in a soft target. The author does not believe that.22’s have ever been loaded with wadcutters.

Post 2

What cooks?—A friendly greeting.

Hey, I can take ’em off, but I can’t put them back on.—Pointing out that once a dog has been neutered, he can’t be unneutered.

The Golden Coprolite—Totally fictitious. I invented it as a prop for the story. DixieGal had been talking about fossil dinosaur coprolite. As an exercise, I tried to make as many alliterative pseudonyms for the Golden Coprolite as I could, while staying within the realm of good taste. Well, acceptable taste. Ok, non-censored taste. No taste at all?

Post 3

The Mudhen—A group of 3 juvenile book centering around a lazy student at a boarding prep school in the 1930’s. Cheese was his main antagonist.

Redneck— Derisive term for blue collar outside worker in the Southern US. Rednecks, of course, have developed pride in the term and sneer that the groups that gave it to them.

Only when he’s happy.—A line used to describe Trapper John McIntyre in the book M*A*S*H.

Good money in the deal, Angel.—A slight modification of a line out of the movie, The Maltese Falcon.

Remind me to give you a fire hydrant for your birthday.—A rather biting comment, it you remember the linkage between dogs and fire hydrants.

Mannie the Pigfarmer—Pinwheel is a fictitious Kingdom. Since the person using the Zelda Pinwheel avatar lives in Paris, France. I needed a place in France for a Kingdom. Luckily, an American fantasy writer (James Branch Cabell) had run into the same problem a century ago, and had created Poictesme as his fictional place in France. It was used in an 18 volume series, known as The Biography of Manuel, the story of Manuel the Swineherd, who becomes Manuel the Redeemer, who will return someday to save Poictesme. I merely raised it from a County to a Kingdom, as a fit place for the elegant Queen Zelda to reign. But I did not forget my predecessor, but mentioned (in translation) its origin.

eyeshade-wearin’—an Americanism for a cost accountant.

could carve up any 10 French bladesmen—From the obscure who-done-it Have Trenchcoat—Will Travel by E.E. Smith Ph.D., which was not published until 2001. It does not follow the rules of who-done-its very well, but it’s still a rattling good read. It means the character is a superb knife fighter. BadGoodDeb’s avatar used always portrays some shot of Xena, Princess Warrior, who had a more that casual familiarity with various sorts of knives…

Post 4

at the Winter Carnival—Also from the book M*A*S*H.

blend in smoother that a deer with it’s tail down.—Deer are very well camouflaged. The flash their white tail patch as a distraction when they start to run for cover.

Silverfish Inn—One of the posters of MobileRead had been stuck in a cheap hotel with silverfish munching on the wallpaper. Hence the Silverfish Inn.

McFarlin Diamond (54 carats, canary yellow)—Real diamond, real theft, and real result. From the Witte Museum, San Antonio, Texas in 1967. At the time, the largest canary yellow diamond in the world.

Bonzo’s Backfire—Fictitious bar—Bonzo from Bedtime for Bonzo, starring Ronald Reagan, and Backfire from… well… flatulence.

It was a high class place, no chicken wire anywhere.—In the mid 20th century, a rural bar would have a cheap band for dance music. the clientele was usually drunk and rowdy (or violently obnoxious), and would tend to throw beer bottles at the band for any playing oversight. To protect the band, they were put behind a heavy steel mesh screen, known locally as “chicken wire”. A high class bar of the times did not have such a protection, and used paid bouncers to eject troublesome patrons.

Robert Earl Kean’s Merry Christmas from the Family.—Robert Earl Kean is a only modestly successful South Texas singer songwriter, whose songs are very local to the region. If you want to get a feel for life in South Texas, listen to some of his music. Merry Christmas from the Family is absolutely real, and ridiculously funny, at the same time. It starts—Mom got drunk and Dad got drunk, there at the Christmas Party… A good CD to start with would be No. 2 Dinner—Live.

Post 5

It’s as good as you get in Chicago.—Chicago is known for it corrupt politicians for over 50 years, and before that, gangsters. Many, many times charges were dropped due to intimidated witnesses. Hence, no convictions, despite many arrests. As Sean Connery said in The Untouchables, “that’s the Chicago way.”

calaboose—Western slang for jail.

Monsieur Claude Vutton—If this story was going to carry baggage, it might as well do it first class…

Bozo—From the character Bozo the Clown—slang for a oaf or a jerk.

Poo-Bah—From the play The Mikado—Lord High Everything Else. the play is still a hoot, even after 120 years.

Foggy Bottom—Wall Street Journal term for the US State Department, which handles all diplomats.

St. Helena—A volcanic island in the middle of the South Atlantic, rarely visited. it’s consider to be about as remote as you can get.

Post 6

get back to our rat killin’—A south Texas slang for “to return to the matter at hand.”

shoe leather afterburner—An RSE original phrase, meaning to give a kick to a backside, usually as an editorial comment.

Diplomatic Passport—The rules of diplomacy are funny. A diplomat on foreign soil is not subject to the laws of the country he’s in. Just the ones he from. So if he runs over a kid in a foreign country, he’s not subject to arrest in that country. Only back home, if back home want to prosecute. This can lead to some really annoyed countries.

Diplomatic Pouch—In order to pass information, and sometimes booze, to diplomatic in foreign countries, there is a long standing convention that bags with diplomatic materials are allowed unopened transit between the home country and the field and vice versa. it’s self policing, because if you open somebody’s else’s bag, they’ll open yours.

Back when Dudley was doing the job—Dudley is the character Cary Grant played in the movie The Bishop’s Wife. See the movie to get the joke…

the football—In the US, where ever the president goes, there is an officer carrying the communication equipment and nuclear codes for the US nuclear deterrent. It has been christened “the football” over the years.

chocolate football trophy—The Scotsman’s avatar always mentions chocolate, and since the key to get the Golden Coprolite was with “the football”, putting the Coprolite in a “football trophy” was a rude gesture at the security of the Kingdom…

Post 7

dingus—American slang for an item or a gadget.

Post 8

shark’s stomach/no whale—Sharks are aggressive in the waters off Australia. VR was suggesting the narrator should be shark food. The narrator responded with the Jonah and the Whale story. Point out that Jonah was swallowed whole and later escaped.

vamanos—A Tex Mex word for leaving in a hurry—Tex Mex is a border corruption of Spanish.

Mount up, Buell—Line from the movie The Hallelujah Trail. Burt Lancaster was ordering his Sergeant to start the action.

since as we had waved those Diplomatic papers, nobody could touch the bags but us—To allow diplomatic security, items under diplomatic pouch can’t be touched by anybody but that nation’s diplomats.

joined the dreamtime—Aboriginal Australians refer the time before their oral history as The Dreamtime.

Post 9

Arlo Guthrie’s “Coming Into Los Angeles”—American folk singer/songwriter, son of an even more famous folk singer/songwriter (Woodie Guthrie). The opening lines to the song were “Coming into Los Angeles, Bringing in a couple of Keys. (kilos) Don’t touch my bags, If you please, Mr. Customs man.”

live and in color—A early American broadcasting boast for sporting transmission in the early 1960’s.

Enola Emmel—Mirror writing of Lemme Alone. First used by Patricia Savage in the Doc Savage Adventure “The Motion Menace”.

Post 10

to go inspect the trees—slang for walking the dog.

shindig—American slang for party.

.50 cal Browning Machine Gun round sniper rifle—An invention of the late 1970’s/early 1980’s. The largest legal caliber without a special permit in America, was the.50 caliber. While it was legal, it had such power and recoil that no sporting use was made of it. Somebody got the idea in the late seventy that it could be used as a heavy, long ranged sniper rifle. They all weighed over 15 kilos and took two people to transport, but have been used militarily in Iraq and Afghanistan. With careful adjustment for wind and air density, they can be accurate up to 3.5 Kilometers.

Post 11

Let’s get this show on the road—Classic American phrase for starting an endeavor.

giddy-up—Western phrase used when getting a horse to move with a rider on it.

Post 12

klicks—American military slang for kilometers.

Valhalla—The Norse gods’ heaven, where the spirits of brave, fallen fighters went to drink, fight, and wench, until the end of the Universe.

It’s a good day to die.—Line from the movie “Little Big Man”.

MG42—Standard German air-cooled light machinegun in WW II. Used an 8MM Mauser round, with a very high rate of fire. Weights 12 kilos, and is still the best middle caliber light machinegun ever made. The rate for fire is so fast that the individual shots cannot be heard separately, the firing sounds like ripping a piece of linoleum. Very distinctive.

Post 13

hogleg—Western slang for a gun. The bend of the handle of a 19th century revolver was reminiscent of the bend in a hog’s back leg.

Post 14

6 ways from Sunday—Texas slang for precaution on top of precaution.

you hold all the Aces—Poker phrase stating that the holder has all the advantage.

burr under your saddle—Western phrase for “what’s bothering you”. A burr under a saddle will cause a placid horse to misbehave, for no obvious reason, until you take the saddle off and see the burr sticking into the horse’s back.

pards—Western for partners.

smooth ape—Phrase for describing humans, used by Robert A. Heinlein in some of his works.

pennying the door—A door fits into a door frame. If you jamb cents, or other slim coins in a stack between the door and the frame, you can form a tension fit that hold the door in place. if you are on the other side of the door, it just won’t open. You have to hit the door hard enough to knock the coins out to get it to open. On the other side, they can be popped out easily

three rules of dirty fighting—They are 1. Do it first, 2. Do it fast. and 3. Do it dirty.

cojones—Spanish for eggs, used in Tex Mex as slang for testicles.

Fort Apache—Famous John Wayne movie about an undermanned outpost being attacked by a massively superior force of Indians.

Post 15

to sprout legs—Western phrase that implies theft. When something disappeared that should not have, the whole phrase used was, “It didn’t just sprout legs and walk off.”

Is there a diplomat in the house?—Parody of “Is there a doctor in the house?”

Come in if you’re friendly.—When approaching an unknown campfire, it was safer for your health in the old West to announce your presence before approaching. The standard phrases were, “Hallo, the fire. Can I come in?” The standard response would be “Come in if you’re friendly. Coffee in the pot.” (If there was any, as a sign of hospitality.)

Adios, compadre—Spanish—“Goodbye, old friend.”

hoorah—Slang for excitement or trouble.

Post 16

cop a plea—Plead guilty to a lesser charge in order to save oneself of a more serious charge that may or may not be proven in court.

Epilog

you’ll take over the show—Return to doing your normal duties that the other person had been filling in for.

The End