THING WITH FEATHERS
Chapter Three
Young Joseph Kuhl, Balona's only private investigator-in-training, has been trying to live down something of a reputation around town-not with the ladies, but with the law. However, now that Joe is beginning his second year at Chaud County Community College he has pretty well outgrown the sticky-fingers part of his problem, according to the public comments of Joe's cousin Zachary Burnross. In fact, those borderline experiences may even have provided Joe with some insight into the criminal mind. And that should serve him well, his current major academic interest being criminal justice.
Joe is something of a puzzle to most adults around here. He is tall and slim, with wide blue eyes, straight platinum-blond hair, and pink cheeks. The sweet part of his appearance reminds me of Navy Hospital Corpsman "Feathers" Fethering, a man from my past to whom Nimitz Chaud and I undoubtedly owe our lives. That appearance and attitude proclaims "innocent." The visual association with Feathers overcomes my reluctance to ask for help from Joe Kuhl.
Although Joe has already had some minor commissions as a private eye-including a job assigned by the Balona Town Council-grocer Mr. D. H. Carp represents the opinion of many Balonans that perhaps Joe is proceeding in life not so much innocent as merely one brick short of a normal load. So, one wonders just what Joe's "private investigations" are likely to turn up. But perhaps in the spirit of brotherhood his involvement in my project is worth a try.
Nim Chaud is convinced that Joe is good-hearted and that he will turn out "just fine." Of course, Nim has good opinions about nearly everyone, even about Bellona Shaw's sharp-toothed admirer Jess Pleroma who still lurks in various Balona by-ways when he's not in jail, and is said to be an "evil companion" if ever there was one.
Joe's office being immediately across Front Street from the estimable Peking Peek-Inn, the smell of stir-fried vegetables is tantalizing. With Nim's recommendation in mind, I cross the fog-bound street and enter
Kenworth O. Kuhl Real Estate
and
Joseph Oliver Kuhl
Private Investigations
The smell of moist dog is heavy in the office air. "Hello, Kenworth! How's things? I was sorry to miss you at the last Solidarity breakfast, Kenworth. I hope all is fine with you."
Kenworth Kuhl, Joe's dad, looks sleepy as he raises his head from evident desktop slumber. His moist red dog Killer rises from beneath Kenworth's desk, stretches and yawns. Kenworth stifles a yawn. "Yeh, how's things? Well, I had sort of an emergency at home." It might accurately be said that Kenworth often has emergencies at home.
"I hope all is well."
"Well, sort of well, you don't count Bapsie. Bapsie was practicing in the driveway again and drove the car smack into the garage door is all." Bapsie-Mrs. Kenworth Kuhl-is infamous in Balona for having the combination of weak eyes, enormous physical strength, a foul mouth, and execrable driving habits, not to speak of no driver's license and off-road road-rage. That is an uncharitable description. Despite my 20-odd years of residence in Balona, I have never had reason to speak to the woman since her last year at Balona High. I suppose she must have developed into a fine person beneath it all, except that perhaps her drinking habits may obscure some of her finer qualities.
Kenworth elaborates: "Actually, she hit next to the garage door. Give it quite a powerful smash, so the building got sort of pushed in, you might say. And then we cut'n open the garage door or the side door to the house, either one. I had to call Binky Swainhammer to come over and try and fix it all, and Binky showed up without his tools. 'I just come over to see what was what,' he went. And so then I had to wait around, y'know, for him to come back with his sledge hammer and stuff. So." Kenworth rubs his finger at a scratch in his desktop. His voice falls, the word coming slow, extending the s, "Sorry."
"Well, I came looking for Joseph."
"Oh, gee. Did Joey do something bad?"
"I was hoping maybe he could help find someone for me."
"Jeez! You'd hire Joey to do that? You think he could do that?" I don't hear an enthusiastic paternal recommendation ringing through these queries.
"Will he be in today? I thought it being Saturday, he might be at your office."
"Joey's went and gone across the street to have some lunch. I ate mine quick, but he's probably talking to Millie Wong over there. You know, the little girl goes to school with him, and her dad owns the place?"
"Maybe I'll go on over there and meet with him there."
"He's eating chop suey probably. Takes him an hour when he's talking, too, which he's probably doing. Puts a lot of soy sauce on it. Say, did you happen to see a big magpie sitting up on the roof here when you come in? Big one?"
"Can't recall seeing a magpie, no."
"I mean, you cut'n miss him if he was there. Sometimes he's there; sometimes he's not. Well, anyways, how come you're looking for somebody?" Kenworth's pale face at once reddens. "Oh, that's probably protected by parent-client privilege, something like that? I shut'n ask a question like that. I should know better." Kenworth's head droops. Killer's head droops.
"It's probably a minor thing that will work itself out, but I hope Joseph might be able to help resolve it more quickly. Maybe Killer will be able to help, too."
Kenworth appears to have suddenly acquired a major headache. He closes his eyes.
So I let him in on my plans. "I got a dog from the shelter over in Delta City, Kenworth, but the dog's disappeared I don't know where, and I want to find him before he slides into the river or gets run over or something else bad happens to him. He's an older dog. Joseph may be able to help with something like this, don't you think?" I flash briefly on Lamont struggling in the chill waters of the Yulumne, caught in the current, swept along, unable to reach the other bank. Lamont turns his head in the water, looks back, terrified.
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