Chapter 4

Drake stepped out of Muldoon and Kirby's patrol car a few minutes later in front of the station. He heard the car drive off somewhat reluctantly behind him for a day of mostly boring patrol work as he ascended the steps for the second time that day.

Once inside, he saw the inhabitants of the station, their heads bowed as they were conducting a search.

"What's going on?" he asked Sean.

"Plato's disappeared. I was keeping an eye on him, but then the phone rang and..."

"Don't worry about it." He turned to address the searchers. "You don't have to worry about Plato, folks. He's probably out exploring. I'm sure he'll be back before the day's out." Drake then turned back to Sean. "So, has Detective Chenture come in yet?"

"Actually, that's what the phone call was about. He's at the courthouse picking up a warrant. He said he'd like to pick you up as soon as he finishes there."

"Sure thing. Let me know when he comes in--I'll be in the chief's office."

Drake debated with himself over whether to hang his hat and coat up, but he distrusted his memory, so he draped the coat over the arm holding the fedora. He was walking past Sergeant Spinelli's desk on the way to the office when he had to stop and stare. Three of the edges of the desk were covered in loaded mousetraps, the old-fashioned kind with actual cheese. The traps doubled as retaining walls to keep the mountains of paperwork from spilling off the sides. Sitting behind the desk, filling out a crossword puzzle, sat the sergeant. He was dividing his attention between the paper, the traps, and the candy bar he was eating--Sgt. Spinelli was always eating, as his amble figure testified.

"Mouse problem?" quipped the ex-detective.

"You don't know the half of it, Drake..." Spinelli began, before he caught himself. "Drake! Good to see you back! How have the jigsaws and detective novels been treating you?"

Drake sighed. "I suppose there's some table space at the lodge not covered with one or the other. Look, I'd love to chat about old times, but I'm afraid I haven't got much time, and I'd like to see the chief before I go."

Spinelli shrugged. "Sure, you can go in--he's not seeing anybody."

As Drake walked away, Spinelli resumed his vigil of the mousetraps.

Drake knocked at the door, then peeked his head in. "Hey, Chief, this is Drake, do you mind if..."

A tall man in an ironed suit looked up from the mahogany desk. He spoke as if he was being charged by the minute, so fast did the words tumble out of his lips. "Don! Come right in. I hoped we'd get a chance to talk. How's retirement?"

The chief took Drake's coat and hat and placed them on a chair so he could shake his hand. Drake walked in and closed the door behind him, rubbing the back of his neck with his freed hand. "It's boring, just like I told you it would be at the retirement party. I hear the caseload has picked up since I left."

The chief wrinkled his nose. "Nah, Hendersen retired, and the paper sent a young pup over to cover the police beat. He's got a real knack for making small stuff sound like the big leagues. I guess that means you've been reading the city paper."

"Never dropped the subscription. If I had nothing but the Silver Springs Gazette to read, I'd have no idea what was going on in the world."

"That's funny, I thought not knowing what was going on in the world was what retirement was all about," the chief replied with a straight face. "Anyway, I wanted to warn you about Detective Chenture."

"You too?" Drake asked with a smile.

"The guy's like a racecar with no oil. He's headed for a crackup, Don, and I'd hate to see you standing too close when that happens."

The smile left Drake's face. "Why haven't you done something?"

"I've done everything the regulations will let me do. He won't see the shrink, and he's got twice as many vacation days built up as you ever had. All I've got is a hunch, and regulations won't let me do anything on that. So if he does anything funny around you, let me know."

"Well, alright, Chief, I let you know if I see anything. Anything else?"

"You could stop calling me 'Chief' and start remembering you're retired, before it's too late. Chenture's been hopping at the window for the last minute or so, so I'd better let you go. Oh, and don't forget these."

Drake retrieved his coat and hat. "How could I forget?" he quipped, dryly.