Page 41 of Saltwater Memories
Chapter 15
Mike checked his watch. 20:30. He had been inside Lenny’s apartment for over an hour. So far, he was successful in planting a few bugs, but not as successful in cracking the password on Lenny’s computer.
There was a surprising amount of security on the laptop. It confirmed what Mike suspected – that Sabinididhave him doing something important.
If he could only get onto the laptop, he could install a key logger and see everything that Lenny was doing. The password cracker had been running for almost an hour with no luck, though. Mike wished he’d had more time to try to phish the password off of Lenny – he could craft some sophisticated looking traps if he’d had the time.
Too bad. It seemed unlikely that this would work now; he would need hours for the program to run, trying a trillion combinations.
When might Lenny be gone for hours? Maybe Mike could get him arrested again. On bogus charges maybe, but at least he’d be out of his hair for a day or two.
There was movement behind him. Mike turned around to see his decoy dog, Biggles, carrying something in his mouth.
“What do you have there?” he asked softly.
Though the shelter workers told Mike that Biggles was deaf, he seemed to understand things just fine. His stare was unbroken as his tail began slowly wagging.
Mike laughed and reached down into Biggles’ mouth. “You’re going to have to let it go eventually.”
More wagging.
Mike let out a sigh. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get it right now.
He looked back at the computer – still nothing. His phone buzzed in his pocket; he’d set up a small camera in the building’s lobby so that he could keep an eye on anyone coming in. It buzzed his phone every time someone walked past the camera.
So far, there had been no one of importance. But just now, the image on the screen caught his eye.
He couldn’t make out the face clearly – it was a guy in a suit. About Lenny’s build and height.
Mike clicked back to look at the video thirty seconds before the guy arrived. He caught a glimpse of his face.
Yeah, it was Lenny.
Shoot. He thought that he’d have more time. Now he only had a few minutes, pending the elevators, to get out of here. He quickly unhooked everything and attached Biggles’ leash.
“All right boy, it’s time to go.”
Biggles took no heed of his urgency. He plodded along next to him at his medium-slow speed – it seemed to be the only speed that he had. Perhaps Mike hadn’t chosen the right dog?
No. Biggles was the only one for him. Mike had turned up at the shelter planning to put in an application to foster a dog. He just wanted a rent-a-dog to help him fit into the building.
But then he saw Biggles. The poor old guy sat quietly in his cage, paws crossed. He was small, terrier-looking, with wiry grey and orange fur. There was a poise about him; Mike imagined it was confidence.
The staff said that his owner ended up in prison, but brought Biggles in first, begging that they find him a good home.
“Does the owner have a long sentence?” Mike had asked.
“Long enough that Biggles will never see him again,” the employee responded. “Poor guy. It’s hard to find a home for a senior dog.”
That was what hit him. Biggles definitely looked like a senior. His eyes were a bit cloudy, his ears stunk, and his muzzle was entirely white. The staff told him that overall, Biggles was healthy and well cared for – he was just old.
Mike wondered why the owner went to prison. He’d sent many men to prison himself – not directly, but from his investigations. It weighed on him sometimes. It felt like justice was uneven; some of the worst men he’d ever known were walking free, while their minions rotted in jail. The worst criminals, the bright ones, got out of their sentences by making deals and turning in their friends.
What had Biggles’ guy done? Was he a peon, betrayed by a less scrupulous friend? Had he hurt anyone?
He had, at least, loved his dog. That counted for something. Mike didn’t know how to fix the system. But he could save one dog.
“I’ll take him,” he’d said.
