Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [41]
"Go inside and tell the guard you're there to pick up a package from Mr. Morelli," I said.
She didn't ask any questions. She was back in a minute, tossing a thick manila envelope on the seat between us.
"Where're we going, honey?"
"You wanted to meet Pansy," I said, pointing the car downtown.
44
I TUCKED the Plymouth into the garage, showed Belle the back stairs, motioning her to go ahead. Her swaying hips narrowed the staircase.
She knew how to act—didn't make a sound on the way up.
When we got to the office door, I gently pushed her to one side while I worked the locks. I went in first, saying "Pansy, jump!" as soon as I did. She hit the floor, paws out in front, her monster's head tilted up to watch Belle.
I made the hand motion that said everything was okay, and told Belle to come in.
"This is Pansy," I said.
Belle stood on the threshold of the office like she was rooted. "Good sweet Jesus! That's a dog? He looks like a swamp panther. What kind is it?"
"She's a Neapolitan mastiff. The most beautiful Neapolitan mastiff in the world, aren't you, girl?" I asked Pansy, rubbing her head. Pansy growled agreement, her tongue lolling in happiness. Belle hadn't moved.
"Go sit on the couch," I told her. "It's okay."
Belle obediently went to the couch, sat down like she was in church, knees pressed together, hands in her lap. I spread my arms wide, telling Pansy she was released. The beast plodded over to Belle, sat in front of the couch, cocked her head.
Belle didn't move. Pansy rammed her head into Belle's lap, shoving at her hands, demanding a pat. Or else.
"She won't hurt you," I said.
Belle gave Pansy a halfhearted pat on the head. The beast made a rumbling noise in her chest. Belle jerked her hand away. Pansy shoved her head back in Belle's lap.
"She just wants to be friends."
"Burke, I swear to God, she's scaring me to death."
"That's her happy noise," I assured her.
"How much does she weigh?"
"About the same as you."
"I'd kiss you for that if I wasn't scared to move off this couch."
I went into the next room, pulled a couple of strips of steaks out of the refrigerator, tossed one at Pansy, saying "Speak!" as I did. The steak disappeared. I threw the other piece on the floor and watched Pansy drool over it.
"Why won't she eat it?"
"She's waiting for the word."
"What you just said?"
"Yep."
Belle looked at Pansy, said "Speak!" in the same tone I'd used. Pansy ignored her. "It only works when you say it?"
"That's right."
"Well, say it, then. The poor dog's dying for the meat."
Pansy flashed Belle a grateful look as I gave her the word. As soon as she polished off the steak, she came back to the couch. Belle patted her with a bit more confidence. "I think she likes me, Burke. Does she do any more tricks?"
"Those aren't tricks," I told her. "Pansy works. Just like you and me."
I threw Pansy the signal and she came over to the door. I opened it and she disappeared into the dusk.
"Where's she going?"
"To the roof."
"It must be beautiful—can we go up there?"
"Belle," I said, "trust me. That roof's one place you never want to go."
"Can I get up?"
"Sure. It's okay—Pansy understands."
I showed Belle the rest of the office. I let her poke around by herself while I laid out the clips Morelli got for me on the desk, thinking I should have heard from the Prof by then.
Belle walked in, put a hand on my shoulder. "Pansy will know me from now on?"
"Sure."
"So if I came here by myself…if I had a key…she'd let me in?"
"She'd rip you to pieces, Belle."
"Oh," she said in her little–girl's voice, watching as Pansy came back inside and curled up in a corner.
I stubbed out my cigarette, anxious to get in the street, see if the Prof had called in.
"Want some dinner?"
"If you do, baby."
"I thought you were starving."
"I can wait for what I want," she said, her voice still too small for her body. "I waited for you."
So she went through a lot of résumés looking for the ideal hijacker. Big deal. "Let's go," I told her.
Belle