Page 63 of Black Dog


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He was just finishing his lunch when Dino called.

“Hi there.”

“Hi there, my ass. Why are you making work for me?”

“What?”

“Your fucking dictionary!”

“Work?”

“Didn’t you send it to me to check for prints?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot.”

“It’s so unimportant that you forgot about it?”

“Not on purpose.”

“What did you want to know?”

“I wanted to know whose prints are on it.”

“What the fuck for? Was it stolen?”

“No, it was just somewhere in the house where it shouldn’t have been, and I want to know who handled it.”

Dino made a muttering sound. “Like we don’t have enough to do. You have to make work for us.”

“I didn’t make the work. Somebody else did.”

“Who?”

“That’s what I want to know from the prints.”

“So you want your police department to figure it out?”

“Yes, please. If you have a moment.”

“All right, I’ve got a list right here. Ready? You want to write these down?”

“Just read them to me. I can remember them.”

“Okay: yours, Joan’s, Helene’s, and Eddie Charles Jr.’s.”

“What?”

“I asked you to write them down!”

“Was Junior’s name on that list?”

“I read it out loud. Are you going deaf?”

“What are Eddie’s prints doing on my dictionary that never leaves my desk?”

“So now you want me to open a case on your dictionary?”

“No, no, Dino, just messenger it back to me.”

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