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The problem with workin' with Rock is keeping his sphincters tight. He seems to have no appreciation for the tools of the trade. A noir P.I. has to be able to handle guns, knives, blackjacks, cattle prods, femme fatales, and tax accountants without blinking an eye, much less grovelling on the floor.
Still, at least he knows not to divulge information about clients. If only he could figure out how to get a client who could pay his rent...
I helped him up and took him in to meet Little Juan.
Little Juan was obviously too shy to try to streak his way out of his fix, so he'd only managed to drag the chain into the waiting room.
"Now, Juan, that wasn't real nice of you. Why don't you stop trying to escape, before we have to play 'pin the bullet through the punk'. You wouldn't like that game."
I don't know who turned whiter, Juan or Rock, but I think I got the message through Juan's little pea brain that he might want to co-operate with me. It's always nice to reach a meeting of the minds.
I grabbed his feet and dragged him back into the inner office. Rock followed.
"Now Juan," looking down at the punk lying on his back, "Why did you drop by? You're too old to be selling Girl Scout cookies."
He turned red at that one. He looked like he was gonna cuss me out again, but I think the situation got the better of him. "I was sent here for a business deal."
"With a .45? That's a mighty hard negotiating tool."
"It was just to show you we were serious."
"About what?"
"You need to pay us some money."
"Collection agency? I don't have any outstanding bills." I winked at Rock. He didn't return the wink.
"Naw, for your ventriloquism dummy. That dog you use for your tricks."
Rock and I looked at each other simultaneously. "VR!" We both exclaimed.
"I guess that was the mutt's name. The asking price is one million dollars." Little Juan sneered, as much as he was able under the circumstances.
"Don't go off half cocked, Red. We'd better talk with Zippy first."
"You're right, Rock. Hmmm.... Rock, can I rent your office for a while?"
"What for?" Rock asked.
"Rock, the proper response is 'how much?', then 'what for?' " I patiently instructed him. " 'How much?' is three time what Turic is charging you. 'What for?' is to stash Juan for a little while while we give Zippy a ring." Hope springs eternal the I could make Rock understand basic economics.
Rock responded, "I asked in the right order. I refuse to be an accessory to one of your felonies at any price."
"Sissy!" I retorted, "Well, Rock, do we call the cops, toss Juan in the hoosegow for assault, and spend the next 12 hours doin' paperwork while Juan's buddies off VR, or do we stash Juan in your office, and call Zippy to get instruction and help from the Foggy Bottom Idiots and the Prez as well? You make the call."
Rock looked unhappy, but said, "You want the head or the feet."
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