Read Online A Crossworder's Delight by Nero Blanc - Free Book Online

left the department: Lever, in his forties, balding, often irascible, forever losing his battle with a weight problem, and plagued by an eternal smoker’s cough, versus the athletic and even-tempered Rosco. No wonder the jibes flew fast and furiously. “A screwdriver, buddy-boy; it’s used by those dexterous folks in the auto repair and carpentry trades for setting, or removing, screws. Would you like me to show you how one works?”
    Rosco laughed. “No, no, I’m going to figure this one out on my own, Big Al. Screwdriver, huh? Well, I’ll be … I thought that had something to do with orange juice?” He then extended his hand to Lever. “Day off, I take it?”
    â€œEven public servants get one every now and then.”
    An ancient collie by the name of Ace, companion to the store’s owner, Stanley, and a permanent fixture at Hatch’s, ambled up, sat beside Rosco, and leaned his weight against Rosco’s leg. Rosco reached down and gave him an affectionate pat. “Sorry, Ace old man, neither Gabby or Kit are with me today. They’re kind of weather-wimps; curled up on heated beds at home.”
    â€œIt’s a dog, Poly-crates, not a person. I wouldn’t put too much stock in Ace’s ability to comprehend compound sentences.”
    Rosco gave Al a sideways glance. “So I gather your pal, Skippy, is the only dog in Newcastle that understands human speech?”
    â€œYeah … well … Skippy’s a different story,” Lever blustered. “See, a stray like The Skipper needed to gauge people’s lingo in order to survive. It’s remarkable how bright he is.”
    â€œFor a dog …”
    â€œWell … yeah.”
    â€œI see. And I assume Skippy shared all this information with you—which is why you’re so free and easy with the compound sentences while yakking with him in the park.”
    Lever seemed to have no response to this statement. Ace’s reaction to the exchange was to stand and head toward the rear of the store, walking heavily across Lever’s shoes as he passed.
    â€œI think that beast’s going blind,” Lever groused as he tried to move his feet out of the way.
    â€œDon’t count on it,” Rosco laughed.
    â€œAnyway, Poly—Crates, Buck Fuller tells me you’ve been brought in by the Marz brothers.”
    â€œYep. Confidence in the good Sergeant Fuller seems to be low at the Paul Revere Inn. I don’t suppose any interesting theories or tidbits have popped up over at NPD?”
    Lever raised his beefy arms. “Please, don’t get me involved with more work than I need. I’m Homicide, remember? If someone turns up dead, give me a call. Otherwise I don’t want to know from nothin’.”
    â€œWhat brings you two out on this snowy morning?” Stanley Hatch asked as approached, giving Lever a friendly thwack on his back and shaking Rosco’s hand.
    â€œRock salt,” Al and Rosco answered in unison, and also laughed as a team. Then Lever pointed to the doorway. “Well, well, here comes Mr. Casanova , the Good Doctor Jones … Since his condo’s on the eleventh floor, I’d venture to say he’s not here for salt.”
    Abe Jones was the Newcastle Police Department’s chief forensics expert; a tall, exceptionally good-looking African American who’d been more than instrumental in helping both Al and Rosco solve a plethora of crimes. He approached the three men and all exchanged greetings.
    â€œWe’re taking bet’s here, Abe,” Stanley said with a smile, “on what brings you into Hatch’s Hardware today.”
    â€œRock salt.”
    This brought on another round of laughter, followed by a lengthy coughing fit by Al. “Dang allergies follow me year round,” he wheezed.
    â€œDang Camels follow you year round, is more like it,” Abe jested. “You oughta start your own desert