Unknown - The Watch Dog

Officer Manners sensed the change immediately and made up his mind to get all the pertinent facts and get away from here; you could feel the hostility in the air in the Barrett home. And whatever its source, he wanted no part of it; the Barrett money was a dozen times what it took to get a policeman fired. «Yes, ma'am,» he said with a regulation smile. «You were about to tell us what happened before your call. According to what we have already, you called the switchboard at the Valley Farms substation at eleven past four and reported a break-in progress, is that correct?»

«Correct. Lucy and I both heard the noise. Our bedrooms are on the same hallway and both of us knew it came from the back door in the kitchen. Actually, it's in the laundry room, but it adjoins the kitchen. It's only a few feet from the bedrooms on the back of the house.»

«Then you were both in bed?»

«Yes, for hours. But would you like to see the backdoor for yourselves?»

«Yes, ma'am, I was about to ask you.»

«Actually, I think I'll excuse myself and try to get some more sleep. I'm sure whoever he was, he won't be back around tonight with you gentlemen on duty.» She was all teeth and eyes, but both the policemen felt her fangs plainly enough. «Lucy will show you the door and the grounds, won't you dear? Thank you very much for your prompt, uh, attention. And good-night.» Officers Manners and Jackson rose as the older Barrett woman got up to leave, and mumbled their courtesies as she hurried off without a look back. It was a clear case of dismissal; Kate Barrett was not accustomed to vying for attention. She would rather make her exit a memorable one than play second-fiddle to Lucy's spectacular endowments.

«Well, I guess the queen has retired to her chambers,» Lucy said bitterly when her mother was out of earshot. «Let's go out through the dining room and I'll show you where the burglar tried to get in.» She walked ahead of them, and when she paused in the doorway of the kitchen, Officers Manners and Jackson were treated to a sight that would drive sensible men to drink. The kitchen light was a bright fluorescent tube hidden above the counter, and with the dining room darkened, it shone through Lucy's diaphanous pajamas like they were clear plastic! Manners heard his partner gasp and he gave him a quick elbow in the ribs before the young blonde turned to face them.

Turner Jackson knew he was taking a chance kidding around about a good- looking white woman, especially a blonde one who could have just stepped out of Playboy. He had known Bill Manners since before Police Academy, and he knew he was no racist: still, a lot of good white men grabbed for their sheets and crosses when they saw black eyes on smooth white flesh. She was a real looker, all right, and she knew it. Turner could see that as well as he could see the curvaceous outline of her firm breasts beneath her pajama top; she might come in with the innocent bit, but this one was no Sunday-school virgin!

«Over there, Officers … that's the window he broke. We left everything just as we found it. I saw them do that on a TV show just last week. That was the right thing to do, wasn't it?» She was smiling now and her face had all the well-scrubbed beauty of the girl next door; it was hard to see any of Kate Barrett in this vivacious young creature. Kate's looks were tough and hard, Lucy was as soft and cuddly as a kitten once her mother was out of the room. And both Bill Manners and Turner Jackson were thinking just how soft and cuddly she would be … safely tucked away beneath the sheets.

Manners made all the necessary notes for his report; there was no point in sending the crime truck around for fingerprints. He knew there would not be any. There was tape on the glass and it had been cut in a circle by a glass-cutter; this was obviously no neighborhood teenager or hungry wino. It had to be a professional break-in artist, even though he blew it when the glass slipped and crashed to the kitchen tile floor, and professionals did not leave fingerprints.

There was little left to be done and Officer Manners, as senior man, thanked Lucy for her trouble and promised they would cruise the neighborhood until dawn just in case the burglar was still around. She walked them to the front door, and as the two cops turned to say good- night, she was silhouetted again in the doorway, her slender curves outlined in the diffused light that filtered through her nightie. God, was she ever a tease! thought the officer as he waved good-bye. Nobody could be that naively innocent!

«Bill, what'ya think of all that?» Jackson asked when they were back in the patrol car

«Just a routine break-in attempt.»

«Oh, not that. You know what I mean. That little prick-tease running around waving those titties in our face! Man, she's gonna' get herself raped if she keeps that up!»

«Yeah, well just don't get any ideas, Jackson. That's rich man's pussy, both of them. You and I just don't qualify,» the blond policeman said as he turned the ignition. «Call in and let them know we're back in the car, will you, Turner?»

The black officer waited for a gap in the unusually busy communications traffic, and then gave the appropriate code numbers to indicate they were again ready for action. He strapped himself into the bucket seat as the heavy police-special cruiser surged down Valley Farms Road toward the lights of Washington far in the distance. It would be light soon, time for some more coffee and perhaps a couple of doughnuts at the all-night Dunkin' Donuts out on the highway. «I was thinking, Bill,» he said after they had traveled a few blocks.

«'Bout what?»

«About those two women … how come they seem to be at each other's throats like they do. It just don't seem right. Mrs. Barrett being a widow and all.»

«That's part of the problem, Turner.»

«What? Her being a widow?»

Manners reached down to the radio and turned the squelch knob up enough to drown out some of the pre-dawn static. «Yeah … there's a lot of stories around about those two. Not that I travel in the same circles, you understand. That kind of life is too rich for me, at least on a cop's salary. I'd never have heard the gossip at all if it hadn't been for Flaherty. You know, that red-headed guy who works second shifts … anyway, he moonlights over at the Valley Farms Club on weekends, keeping an eye on traffic and such. Pays good money, I understand. Well, he said that any time two of those rich ol' cunts get together over there, it's to share a new story about Kate and Lucy Barrett.»

«Wow, what are they a couple of weirdos or something?»

«No, nothing quite so spectacular. The story is that Lucy and Kate inherited an equal share of the Barrett holdings, with Lucy's portion in trust until she's twenty-five.»

«You mean that sweet littl' thing isn't legal?»

«Well, she's fucking legal, if that's what's on your dirty mind. But she's not legal enough to inherit her portion of the estate. So she's sort of dependent on her mother for everything. That's why she's going to business school, to get a job and support herself.»

«All that money and she's worrying about working?»

«She's got a few years yet before she gets it, and from what Flaherty tells me, she probably won't be living at home much longer. She's got a boyfriend, see, some punk she dredged up from somewhere. I don't know what a sweet piece like her sees in a long-hair, but that's the drift. The ol' lady hates his guts … won't even let him on the property. And since she's Lucy's legal guardian and controls the purse-strings, she's pretty much got the upper hand.»

«I should have guessed it … whenever there's a squabble between two cunts, you can be damn sure there's a cock somewhere in the middle!»

«Jackson, you've sure got a dirty mouth. But I think you're right this time. Only it's two cocks, not one?»