Inside Dog

INSIDE DOG

Bill tapped his white cane against the floor in a steady rhythm, counting the seconds, the minutes, the just over an hour that he’d been sitting in this interrogation room.

The doors creaky hinges squeaked. Chestnut raised her head and gave a soft growl. He patted her on the head. “Easy, girl.”

Connie set a folder down on the table. “Hello, Mr. Velasco. My name is Constance Verity, and I’m here to help you.”

Chestnut slinked behind Bill’s chair.

Connie’s voice sounded vaguely familiar to Bill, like a not-quite-obscure-character actor he couldn’t quite place..

“Are you my lawyer?” he asked.

“You don’t need one,” said Connie. “Would you like something to drink? I have a water bottle I’m putting directly in front of you.” She set it down and gave him the courtesy of allowing him to reach for it.

“Are you an advocate for the blind? Your name is sort of familiar.”

“No, I’m not specifically here for you. And I’m sort of famous. I just want to clear up that you aren’t a suspect in the theft anymore.”

“Anymore?” Bill laughed. “I can’t see.”

“I knew a cat burglar who was blind who operated out of Rome,” said Connie. “Mr. Velasco, how long have you been working at the museum?”

“Are you a detective then?”

“Occasionally,” she said. “Right now, I’m acting as an outside consultant for various interested parties. The Star of Shamash was on loan to the museum, and everyone’s trying to avoid an international incident. Trust me. This’ll go a lot faster if you answer my questions.”

Bill shrugged. “A little over four months,” he said. “But I’m just an office manager. I don’t handle security.”

“And how long have you owned Chestnut?”

“About a year.”

“And in all that time, has Chestnut ever displayed any unusual tendencies?”

The golden retriever turned her back on Connie and put her paws over her face.

“What’s that mean? Unusual?”

“You’d know what I meant if it was happening.”

“So can I go then?” he asked. “You said I wasn’t a suspect anymore.”

“Just a few more questions,” said Connie. “It won’t take much longer. You know, you almost got away with it. But there was a camera you missed.” Connie held up a pair of photos and tapped them with her finger.

“I can’t see that,” said Bill, annoyed.

“I’m not showing it to you.”

Chestnut raised her head and grumbled.

“This is a photo of Chestnut entering the Star of Shamash display,” said Connie to Bill. “And this is a photo of her leaving the display room. She’s not carrying the Star, of course. That’d be too sloppy.”

Bill laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m afraid Chestnut has been a bad girl.” Connie glanced through some files. “Chestnut, AKA Kit the Wonder Dog, AKA Shiva the Wonder Dog, AKA Jellybean, AKA Lass, AKA . . . well, you get the idea.”

Connie closed the file.

“Two years ago, I helped take down a circus of crime.”

“What is that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. One of the members of that circus was a larcenous animal trainer. In the chaos of taking down the circus, he released all his animals into the wild, where they went on the lam immediately.”

“This is sounding a bit far fetched.”

“And I didn’t even mention the chimpanzee forger or the tiger car thief they still haven’t caught.”

“How–”

“They’re very well trained,” said Connie. “Anyway, Chestnut, AKA Kit the Wonder Dog, was one of the escapees. Somehow, she infiltrated the rescue animal society and wound up with you.”

“But Chestnut’s a great dog.”

“I’m sure she is. Very bright. My guess is that she was laying low. She might have remained a law-abiding canine for the rest of her life, but when you ended up with that job at the museum, nature took its course. Or nurture. Not that I’m blaming you. It’s just a terrible coincidence. I can’t say for sure that Chestnut didn’t plan this, but she is only a dog. It’s unlikely that she knew your job prospects.”

Chestnut set her head in Bill’s lap and whined.

“Oh, she’s good,” said Connie. “But we found the Star hidden in the air vent. I don’t know how she unscrewed the vent cover or duct taped the Star to the vent, but, like I said, she’s well trained.”

“Assuming I believe you, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“No one thinks you did. This was Chestnut on her own initiative. I don’t think she actually had any plans with what to do with the Star. She just stole it because it was too good an opportunity to not steal it.”

“Why would a dog steal a jewel?”

“It’s all training. You don’t think elephants rob banks because they need the money.”

“Elephants rob banks?”

“Well trained ones do. The thing is, Chestnut almost got away with it. If they hadn’t called me in, and I hadn’t recognized her from our last run in, I think she would’ve.”

Chestnut flattened her ears and growled.

“Sometimes,” said Bill, “I end up with more cash in my wallet than I thought I had.”

Connie nodded. “Thought something like that might happen. Anything else?”

“I found a drawer full of credit cards that belonged to other people once. And a couple of expensive watches hidden in the couch cushions.”

“And that didn’t strike you as unusual?”

“She’s a dog. Nobody suspects the dog of being a criminal mastermind.”

“Mastermind might be taking it a bit far,” said Connie. “And it’s probably unfair to categorize her as a criminal. She’s just a very bright dog that is criminally trained.”

Bill pulled his hand away from Chestnut. “She’s not dangerous, is she?”

“She’s trained to steal, not kill,” said Connie. “Not like that mongoose assassin. Anyway, since you’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing and the Star has been found again, you’re free to go. The question is what do we do with Chestnut?”

“I don’t care. Take her.”

Chestnut lowered her head.

“Mr. Velasco, I think I can curb Chestnut’s instincts so that you can keep her. Now, it’ll probably take a couple of months of deprogramming, but–”

“I can’t own a dog burglar,” said Bill. “I work in a museum.”

“I just assumed that you’d want to keep her.”

“Why would I keep an evil dog?”

Chestnut slinked off to the corner and lay on the floor.

“She’s not evil. Dogs, even really bright dogs, don’t have moral codes. She simply has behaviors.”

“And her behavior is stealing. I can always get another dog.” He stood and used his cane to navigate around the table. He paused at the door. “I just need my job, and it’s a lot of responsibility that I can’t handle right now. I’m not a bad person.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed. “Do you need help finding your way out of the building?”

“I can manage.” He left, the occasional tap of his cane disappearing down the hall.

Chestnut had somehow slipped free of her service animal harness. It lay in a pile beside her. The retriever gazed up with big gold eyes and wagged her tail twice.

“I can’t keep you.”

Chestnut came over and put her paw on Connie’s hand.

“I travel a lot. You’d be mostly home with Byron, and I don’t know if I can trust you alone with him.”

Chestnut lay down and rolled over on her back. Connie smiled and shook her head.

“Well, Byron does love dogs, but you have to promise me that you’ll cut out the larceny.”

Chestnut barked twice as she spun around.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you, but we’ll work on it.”

A uniformed police detective entered. “Ma’am, they’ve spotted some elephants entering chemical bank.”

Chestnut walked behind Connie. They were turning the corner when she heard the cop ask, “Hey, anybody seen my wallet?”

Connie held out her hand. Chestnut, tail wagging, deposited the wallet in her palm.

“We’ll work on it.”