Chapter 7

Velma showed an unusual amount of concern over my run-in with the woman with the gun. She was especially concerned with the fact that the woman had stroked me before sticking the gun in my side. While I agreed that the overly familiar action was totally rude, but Velma seemed even more bothered by it than I did.

"You must have been terrified."

"Rell, it ras pretty scary. The gun and all."

"Why don't we just calm you down a little?" Yes, this was totally condescending, and my non-dog half became instantly offended but at the same time she began to scratch around my collar and my ears and my dog half fell into the existential ecstasy brought about by ear scratching. Honestly, the non-dog half was pretty darn fond of it, too. While this level of sympathy from Velma was unusual, I would deal with it as long as she scratched my ears. I was a pushover.

But she didn't like the fact that this woman existed. To explain why, I need to speak in Velma-speak for a moment. All of her data points to date were curve-fitting linearly along the path that led to philandering fiancé. This was simple, straightforward, and met the Occam's Razor test. Velma was happy with that. She would even be happy if she could have curve-fit the points logarithmically or even asymptotically. But this third party who seemed to have insinuated herself into this case was a complete outlier. Velma couldn't figure out where she fit. This triggered the poor dear's OCD which doubled her workaholic tendencies. The next time that I put her to bed would require Ambien and duct tape.

In Velma's research, she had found another data point that fit perfectly on her line. Every call that had been made from that pay phone at 2:40 each working day had all gone to the same number. It was a +48 country code – Poland. The number itself belonged to a woman named Aleksandra Andrysiak and her address was in… wait for it… Swoopsk (which was actually written Slupsk for some reason). Everything was coming together perfectly and we already had our train tickets to Slupsk.

But, of course, none of us spoke Polish. Marcie asked Frida if they had anyone on staff who spoke Polish and English and if we could hire that person for a few days to assist us as we went to Poland in search of more datapoints (or clues as the rest of us called them). There were several such people as the company had hired Polish technicians and administrative staff who apparently were willing to work for less than native-born Germans. The one of these people that was offered to us was a young woman of about twenty who looked completely German with blonde hair, blue eyes, oval face, and fair skin. Her name was Kasia Norowski. She was average height, spoke all three languages very quickly, and, once started talking, did not stop without an outside influence. In other words, she had to be told to shut up, which Velma did. The young woman quieted without seeming offended. My guess is that, in her world, this was normal. Marcie added a ticket for her and she ran off, chattering a mile a minute, and said that she would meet us at the train station. She loved dogs. I just thought I would throw that in.

We had a fifteen-minute break before we had to head for the airport and I did something that I had never done before - I called my girlfriend to check in. The call was brief because she was at work.

"Hi Scooby."

"Rerro. Row are things roing rack home?"

"Everything is good here. Bettie has mentioned you several times. I know it would be late there but if there is any way that you could call us after I get home with her, she would love it… and I would like the time to speak with you more myself."

"Arout anything in rarticular?"

"No. Just to hear your voice." This made me stop in my tracks and I will admit that I choked up a little.

"Ree rill ree on the train tonight so Rye rill call you from there. Rye enjoy hearing the sound of rour voices, too." Deep breath and time for the big finale, "Rye miss roo." This was an emotional gamble and my heart was beating fast.

"I miss you, too." Gamble pays off and I am smiling like an idiot.

"Rye have to go now. Rye'll call at 6:00 rour time."

"I'll talk with you then." The call ended. Were I the cartoon version of me, I would have floated out to the car on a cloud, but I was the real version of me, so I just walked.

A train ride through Europe chasing a mystery should have been pretty exciting. But it was really just a train ride. Or, in reality, three train rides. We went from Munich to Berlin and had to wrestle our baggage off of the train, from one platform to another (up and down steps), wait an hour at around 10:00 PM, and then wrestle them back onto another train. This put us on the ride to Szczecin, Poland.

Velma stayed on her computer the entire time, using her phone as a hotspot. She Facetimed with Shaggy right after we boarded the train in Berlin which caught him in the late afternoon lull at the restaurant. Marcie changed back and forth between working on her computer and making exasperated and frequently insulting phone calls to her colleagues back in New York. I waited for midnight when I would call Amanda and Bettie.

My heart was racing again as I made the call. It was answered immediately and the first face which I saw was Bettie. She pointed at her screen, "Doggie."

I pointed back, using the little screen to make sure she could see my paw, "Ruman."

"Where are you?" This one was not a pun. Three-year-olds are not big makers of puns regarding out-of-date television references.

"Rye am in Rermany."

Bettie looked off screen, "Mommy. Where's Rermany?"

Scooby heard Amanda's voice, "Germany is in Europe, Sunshine. It's a long way away."

This appeared sufficient and Bettie turned back toward the phone, "When are you coming back?"

"Rust a few days."

"Okay." And Bettie was gone.

The phone jostled around a bit, and I saw Amanda. She asked, "How many is a few?"

"Rings are going 'retty good right now. 'robably three or four."

I saw her shoulders straighten slightly, "That's not too long."

Time to get the landmines out of the way, "Relma slept in rye room rast night."

Amanda's posture immediately sagged, "Why?"

"She rould have rorked herself to death if rye did not rorce her to sleep. She took the bed and Rye too the shower."

"You slept in the shower?"

"Relma shined a blue right in the room and Rye saw all the DNA. The shower was the onry clean place."

Her posture jerked erect again, "You cleaned it yourself, didn't you?"

"Rof course!"

I thought for a second that she was actually going to laugh. She even crinkled around the eyes a little, but the reaction fell short. "You are very funny."

"Rye ron't rike germs."

"Scooby…" She paused. The pause dragged out. Then it dragged out longer. She just stared blankly into the screen.

"Rhat?"

"Scooby, I love you."

And there it was. The L-Bomb had exploded on this relationship. I had a decision to make now and it was an easy one, "I rove roo, too."

Her shoulders were squared with the screen, "I guess we have lots to talk about when you get back."

"Re'll talk refore that. Rye'll call roo romorrow."

"I hoped you would say that. Good night."

"Rood night."

I turns out that there is something that can get Velma to look up from her computer, "Was that what I thought it was?"

"Robably. Aranda and Rye just rold each other ree rove each other."

She looked at me with her eyes slightly narrowed, "Congratulations?"

I nodded, "Res, congratulations."

She reached over, took my paw, and squeezed it gently, "I'm happy for you." She then looked back down at her computer and got back to work. For Velma, that was an emotional outburst.

We got into Szczecin well after midnight and had to wait there until 4:30 for the first train to Slupsk. Needless to say, between being in human seats, thinking about Amanda, and being on a train, I did not sleep. Nor did Velma. Marcie passed out for a couple of hours around 2:00 AM and looked much less glamorous drooling on her own shoulder. Kasia talked… and talked… and talked.

We got into Slupsk around 6:30 AM. Marcie's people had a small van waiting for us in front of the railroad station after we had wrestled our luggage down the stairs from the platform and back up the stairs into the station. The drive to the hotel was less than five minutes and was down a street that looked like it had once been a boulevard and they had turned half of it into a park. This boulevard emptied out into a large circle which was decorated with extensive and well-maintained landscaping. Marcie's team had booked us in for the previous night at a hotel next to the circle named the Staromiejski Hotel. The rooms were tiny, there were no elevators, and the heat was radiated so what little moisture my skin retained was sucked out immediately. It had a bed and I fell asleep immediately. I didn't even eat breakfast. I know. I'm shocked, too.

I woke up four hours later, itching from the dry skin, and hungry. I cleaned up and went door to door down the narrow hallway looking for a lunch companion. There was no answer when I knocked at Velma's door and Marcie gave me the heebie-jeebies so I was left with Kasia. She answered her door and looked fresh as a Spring day. For the first time, I felt truly old.

"Hello, Mr. Doo, are you interested in lunch? I very much am. I am very hungry. If there is one thing that you can count on in Poland is pizza parlors and kabob shops. I am sure there are other restaurants within an easy walk. American food is very…"

I interrupted her, "Roo had ree at rizza."

She tilted her head and looked confused, "I'm sorry?"

"Rizza is good."

"Of course! We can ask at the front desk for a pizza restaurant that they would recommend. I have never been to Slupsk but, if it is a normal city, then there will be many pizza restaurants within an easy walk. There is an advertisement downstairs for a new Tapas restaurant at the end of the park. The hotel itself has a restaurant but the desk clerk did not recommend it. She also did not recommend the Chinese restaurant on the corner. I checked the weather and it is supposed to be a nice day with no rain and the temperature being about 15 Celsius. I will wear a jacket but you, of course, have fur because you are a dog. What is it like, being a dog? I have never been able to ask a dog that question before…"

Shoot me now.

The nice thing about lunch with Kasia was that I didn't have to put any effort into holding up my end of the conversation and could throw myself into the business of eating. And I'm the CEO of that business. The restaurant was a small, family place up a flight of steps about a block from the hotel. They had a wood-fired oven which created superior crust and, for some reason, chose a nautical theme. I was on my guard after the whole 'pepperoni' fiasco and, with Kasia's help, I avoided the other European pitfalls like corn and got four excellent pizzas. A light lunch. When we got back to the hotel, Velma and Marcie were awake and dressed and also in the mood for lunch. So, I had another one. The day was starting off well.

After lunch number two, Velma worked at her computer and Marcie did the same until around 2:00 when she hit the phones to speak with other members of the Eastern Time Zone club. Kasia talked… and talked… and talked… and talked. I decided to go for a walk. The sun was out and it was brisk but not cold so I didn't need a jacket. The city had lots of parks but most of these were walking parks with circuitous paths rather than wide open running parks like back home. I turned left out of the hotel and then left again up what looked to be a spooky street but it was broad daylight and the spookiness was held at bay. Another right turn took me into a large open plaza which seemed to be centered around a Biedronka which was a small grocery store. The city was filled with these small grocery stores which were larger than convenience stores but smaller than a US grocery. Giving directions here using these stores as landmarks was like giving directions in the States based on drug stores. They were everywhere.

Turning left out of the plaza took me along a less spooky street which was brightly lit by the sun and had colorful buildings with interesting architecture. As an untethered dog – and a large one at that – I continued to receive stares by passers-by but dogs are held in higher reverence in Europe than in the US and allowed in restaurants and other perks, so I just kept trotting along. This road ended at a busier street across which was a parking area filled with cars where people were gathering and then walking up the hill into a green wooded area. Maybe this was the park I was hoping for. I followed them and found myself in, of course, a cemetery.

Apparently, cemeteries are happening places in Poland as it was abuzz with activities. Old and young people alike were tending to the family gravesites. Flowers and candles were being replaced and landscaping was being done. Generally, I'm an American's American but, every so often, I see an example of a foreign country that had cultural traditions that I wish we would embrace. I was seeing one now. This cemetery was not spooky at all.

Then I smelled a familiar scent that I associated that scent with danger. That doesn't really mean much. I associate most things with danger.

Like many things in life, fear levels seek equilibrium. At the initial finding of danger, that equilibrium is shattered and requires an abrupt and large-scale response which is usually jumping straight into the air, screaming, and then running at top speed as soon as my feet hit any solid surface. But, over time, that danger gets incorporated into all of the other dangers prevalent in modern society and I deal. I was dealing with the possibility that an armed and somewhat crazy American woman of Asian ancestry might at any moment consider me to be 'in her way' and try to kill me. That is the state I was in when I detected this familiar scent. She was nearby.

Given the new equilibrium, my curiosity overcame the danger and I decided to go in search of another conversation. Listening closely, I heard a series of rapid-fire electronic clicks coming from behind a small brick building. I moved to my right to put more of the building between me and the clicking sound and then darted straight toward the building before she could make her way around it. Her camera appeared first as she was stealthily trying to make her way around the building and catch sight of me. Of course, she was looking where I had been rather than where I was and almost walked right into me. Wearing designer jeans and a Gap t-shirt, she looked like a cross between Velma and Daphne although a little heavier than either and having make-up applied a little heavy-handedly.

"See ranything rinteresting?"

She jumped and it felt good to startle her for a change. Turnabout and all that. Then her hand went toward her jacket and I let out a low and fierce growl. I can't bark but I have a crazy-good growl. "Raws and fangs. Remember?"

She sneezed and I will admit that I jumped. It was not the response I expected. Her voice was highly nasal and I saw some snot beginning to dangle beneath her nose, "I'm just reaching for a Kleenex."

"Rery rowly."

She opened her jacket wide and slowly reached in to pull out a pack of nose wipes. It took a moment for her to open the wrapper before she got one out and wiped her nose. I hate that packaging.

Her eyes lost focus and the refocused, "You can smell me, can't you?"

"Rye can. How are ree doing? Have ree gotten in rour ray, yet?"

"No. I don't have to kill you, yet." Another nose wipe. This was going to be distracting.

"Rood to know."

"So far, you've been very helpful."

"Rye'm rappy to rear that. Now, raybe, roo can clue ree in on what roo are rooking for."

"That won't happen. I can't trust you."

"Rye not?"

"Because you are an aberration." Another nose wipe.

I was hearing that word a lot lately and it was beginning to really piss me off, "Rye do roo say that?"

"You were created by an alien race for the specific purpose of meddling in our world for purposes that were in their best interest."

"Rit ras in everyone's best interest."

"That's what your show said but your show lied about a lot of things."

"Ruch as."

"The science articles I've read about you don't match up. It doesn't gel with anything we really know about the Sumerian concept of the Anunnaki and there is no reason that their access to our world is constrained by any timeframe. So, Nibiru coming every few thousand years is a bunch of garbage and they can manipulate us whenever they want. And we can do nothing about it."

She kind of had me there, "Roo've done rour romework."

"I remember your show and, since I saw you in New York, I've been reading everything I can find on the internet." Nose wipe number four. I was counting them now.

"Ree named them Anunnaki because the 'roducers thought it was cool. The rovernment made us incrude the Ribiru thing to reep reople from panicking. Ree rent arong."

"So, you are a creation of a foreign people who think differently from us and may have totally different concepts of right and wrong. As a creation, you might be programmed toward a goal that we cannot fathom. I have a lot of reasons to not trust you."

"That is how roo rive rour rife?"

"It is. It keeps me and mine safe." Nose wipe number five.

"Rafe and cozy in rour raranoid half-life."

"Maybe so. But safe just the same. And if you're going to use those fangs and claws, now is your chance." She turned and walked away. As she was walking, she dropped the used Kleenex into a garbage can and pulled out another one. I heard her blow her nose.

I called out to her back, "Roo've been rollowing us rince Rew Rork?" She didn't answer. I didn't use the fangs or the claws.

After she turned the corner, I rooted around in the garbage can and found the Kleenex. Which I had to pick up with my paws. Yes, this is as disgusting as it sounds. I might start wearing clothes just so I can have pockets to carry gloves in. Yuck.

Velma took the crumpled-up wad of nasty as if I were giving her a Christmas present. She put it into a baggie, filled out a form, and had Kasia take it out to be sent back to a lab in the US for DNA testing. I was glad that the DNA testing was billable. Those tests aren't cheap and they were adding up. But there was something that I needed to clarify with Velma.

"Are roo roing to tell Rarcie arout the woman?"

Her head tilted slightly, "She is our client. Do you think I shouldn't?"

"Rye think that raybe rour rishful thinking arout rour friendship rith Racie might impact rour recision-making. She was a rillain."

I watched as Velma thought through what I had said, "Okay, we keep it a secret until we've solved the mystery." I could tell that Velma was well into the zone when she referred to a case as a 'mystery'. I had flashbacks – not all of them pleasant. The good old days weren't always so good. But we had our understanding. We would not tell Marcie everything until we were sure that she could be trusted.

At a little after 5:00 PM, we went to the home address shown on the telephone account for Aleksandra Andrysiak who Reggie had called on a daily basis during his time in Munich. The address led us to a five-story tall rectangular concrete building nestled among several identical buildings. Obviously, they had originally been built during the Communist era as Mies Van Rohe wet dreams of simplicity and concrete. After the wall fell, amazing innovations such as paint flooded in from the west and these buildings were now a checkerboard of bright, pastel colors which brightened but did not hide the architectural history of the structures.

Kasia pressed all of the buttons at the exterior door until a buzzing sound came from the door and someone buzzed us in. We entered directly into a small, austere stairwell with no real lobby area and began to climb. Having been to Europe before, I knew that the apartment number being 3102 meant that it was on the fourth floor. It was a long, chilly climb – the stairwell was not heated. We got to that floor and found two doors – 3101 and 3102. Kasia knocked on 3102.

I heard two sets of footsteps from inside, one heavy and headed toward the door and the other light and headed away from the door. The door opened and it was a woman of about 50 wearing a nice-ish outfit that indicated she probably worked in an office. Inside the small living room and within view of the door was a man of about the same age wearing workman' coveralls and a youngish teen-age girl who was tall and with long, dark hair. The man and the woman both had a facial structure which indicated that they had been very attractive in their youth and the girl favored the mother.

Kasia started off in rapid-fire Polish within which I heard the words Aleksandra Andrysiak. The woman then answered in much slower Polish of which I understood none. Kasia turned to us, "Aleksandra left about two weeks ago with a man."

The teen-ager had walked up and stood next to her mother at the door. She spoke in carefully pronounced English, "Ola left with her boyfriend. They are going to be married. She loves him very much."

We all looked at Kasia, "Ola is short for Aleksandra." That, of course, made no sense at all but when in Rome… Kasia kept talking, "This is her mother and father and her younger sister."

Velma piped in, "Could they describe the man?"

Kasia provided the translation and the woman stepped away from the door for a moment and came back with a picture in a cheap plastic frame. The face in the picture was Reggie and he was standing next to a young woman in her twenties. Where the young girl in the apartment showed the promise of how attractive she would someday be and the older woman showed such a history, the woman in the picture was in the full flower of her womanhood and could easily be mistaken for a model or an actress.

But that was not as interesting to me as the boxes. On closer look into the apartment, there were boxes everywhere. Some seemed to be new as if the items within them had just been purchased and others were old as if they were moving into or out of the apartment. I looked at Kasia, "Rask if they are rooving?"

I could see Kasia squint her eyes as she tried to parse out what I had said and then the look of understanding as she put it together. Another round of Polish ensued between Kasia and the woman.

The younger girl looked at me and got more practice for her English, "Yes. We are moving to a house. It will have a garden and we will have a dog." Her eyes were glued to me.

Kasia added, "They have worked and saved their entire lives and have finally got enough money to buy a house. They are very excited."

Velma put in another question, "Has Ola been in contact with them since she left?"

More Polish which Kasia translated, "She has not and they are a little worried."

"What worries them?"

More Polish, "Ola had a very jealous ex-boyfriend with a terrible temper. They are afraid that he might have tried to stop Ola and Reggie from leaving."

"What is his name and where does he live?"

More Polish, "His name is Pawel Kotnitski and he lives in Bolesławice. It is not far."

Velma looked at the rest of us, "I guess that's where we're going next."

I personally had some more questions – especially about the fourth person in the apartment that I had heard and could now smell. But those could wait until a later time when Marcie wasn't around. It would take a lot more than some heartfelt sob stories to make me trust her.

We drove away from the Polish city and into an area of suburban sprawl with housing development after housing development – most of them relatively new. It took several attempts to find the correct address among all of the similar houses on small lots. But we finally pulled into a short driveway and started to get out.

The smell hit me immediately. It was light and none of the humans noticed it as they were walking to the front door. I debated whether I should tell them as Kasia knocked on the door. There was no answer. But there wouldn't be. The cloying aroma which was assaulting my nostrils was a mixture of decaying flesh and dirt. More accurately, decaying human flesh and dirt. Somewhere very nearby, there was a human body in a shallow grave.

"Rollow ree." I told the group and started around the house following the scent. The scent took me to a locked gate that was about four feet high. I backed up, took a running start, and vaulted the gate. A younger version of me would have cleared it cleanly but the aging version of me caught it with my forepaws and pulled myself over. Not graceful but I landed on all fours on the other side.

"You can't do that!" It was Kasia's voice.

I stopped and looked back at her through the bars of the gate, "Rall the rolice." I spotted a plot of fresh earth in the corner of the yard and behind some bushes. The smell was overpowering now. My dog half was going crazy and I had to keep it under control. This was not a time for me to be a dog. I needed to maintain my control while I used the physical tools of the dog to unearth the body.

I began to dig. Velma and Marcie had both climbed the fence and they waited next to me as I worked. The form of an arm began to take shape about a foot down. My digging followed the arm toward the head and, as I got in the area of the head, I dug more slowly and carefully, keeping the dog in me at bay. Velma dropped to her knees and used her more complex hands to move the dirt away from the face. As the eyes appeared, Marcie dropped down next to her and began frantically clawing at the dirt. I could see her tears falling into the soil below her face. I backed away and let them finish the job. Marcie stopped when the face was about halfway exposed. She curled up on her knees holding her filthy hands against her eyes with her face nearly on the ground in a kowtow position. Her back spasmed in rhythm with her soft sobs.

It took Velma another minute to completely clear the face. There was no doubt. It was Reggie.