Lara Moffat P.I.

by Karen Goldrick

Chapter 1

‘MISSING PRESUMED KIDNAPPED!’

The fax came to a halt and started to ping, a loud irredescent noise that finally alerted Lara, curled up in a sofa reading a book.

“Ok. Coming.” She pressed a few buttons, jiggled it then gave it a tentative slap. It resumed.

‘LARGE REWARD ON OFFER.’ Laura held the end of the paper and tried to hurry it through. A picture emerged, the details slowly resembling a portrait. Again the machine stopped and let loose a nagging beep.

“Ben. You still here Ben?” she yelled down the narrow stairway.

“Nope.” A door slammed.

“Shit. You bastard! You’re gone!” Lara turned back to her fax machine.

“Nope. Still here, love of my life.”

“Just as well. The fax needs fixing.”

Ben stooped over and examined it. He tried a few buttons. Gently tugged the paper. Still nothing. Then he picked it up, turned it over and dropped it. The fax resumed.

“Alright, my sweet. Gotta go. Gotta goom to catch. Gotta musover to watch. Salutations.” He blew her a kiss and loped down the stairs, two at a time. Lara ignored him and watched as the portrait took shape.

It was of a dog. A small poodle. The original must have been in colour, because the contrast was too low. She couldn't quite make out its colour. It was a teacup poodle, but was it a cream, or a silver?

“Missing from Watson’s Bay since 1st July. Believed Stolen. Three year old female teacup poodle answers to the name of Darla....sometimes. Microchipped. Wearing a blue collar with a bell. Large reward on offer. Please call the Opulenski Residence on....”

And again the fax halted and screamed.

“Yep. That’s my girl!” Lara sighed and tore her fax off. She searched the small print at the top for a contact number. There was a transmission message, and a fax number, but no phone number.

She picked up her portable phone and started to dial, then swore when she realised the battery had died. Ben was supposed to recharge the batteries. She’d well and truly sack him next time she saw him. She picked up the fax receiver and dialled.

“Hey Hugo, Lara here. Do me a favour will you?”

“Another favour, Lara. When are you going to return all these favours?” The voice was deep and velvety. It’s owner was bound to be fat and bald.

“I’ll surprise you one of these days” she replied.

“I look forward to it.”

It wasn’t long before Hugo had retrieved the required phone number from the Telstra files.

“Thanks Hugo. You’re a hero.”

“A Superhero, Lara. You just haven’t caught on. Ciao.”

Lara sipped stale water from a glass and dialled. Hugo had better be right.

The phone rang several times, Lara thought it might ring out, then the answering service clicked in. It was a rusty recording of Moon River, followed by a female voice. Upper crust. Polished. Polish.

“Hi. My name’s Lara Moffat. I’m ringing to speak to the owner of Darla...”

“Hello. Hello. Don’t hang up... please don’t go. Have you got her?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” There was a few second’s silence. “How may I help you, Miss Moffat?”

Lara winced. “I’d like to meet with you and discuss the details of her disappearance. I may be able to help.”

“Oh. How would you help?”

“I am the sole owner and proprietor of Lara Moffat Pet Investigations. I specialise in crimes involving domestic pets. I thought we could come to an arrangement.”

“I see.” Another pause. “Do you have any references, Miss Moffat?”

“Absolutely, Ms Opulenski. Can we meet in person?” Lara counted silently to four.

“Where would we meet?” Ms Opulenski finally asked.

“Your place. Then I can see for myself Darla’s natural environment. Get a clue to her personality.”

“I see.”

1..2..3..4..

“Well. That would seem wise. Can we meet this afternoon?”

“Sure. I’ll see you at 1pm. And one more thing, Ms Opulenski. Do you think you could cancel the reward? We don’t want the perpetrators of this crime going underground.”

Mergatroid, Lara's trusty red mini, was out of action, so she had to rely on public transport. As usual, the gooms were running slow and out of order. She ran and arrived breathless at the residence of Ms Opulenski and Darla. Breathless ... but on time. She rang the old brass bell and stood back from the chorus of high pitched barks.

“It’s alright, little hundlings. Out ze back you go.” The women who answered the door was short and plump, wearing traditional domestic attire. Probably Eastern European. The dogs, a pack of eight tiny silver teacup poodles, ignored her, and proceeded to ruin Lara’s entrance, threatening to trip her up or worse still, be squashed beneath her boots.

Her eyes stung from the fumes of an overwhelming stench of dog piss. There was a large crystal chandelier, missing a few beads, hanging over a red carpeted spiral stairway. She was shown to a small dark room to the left. Every surface was hidden beneath lace doilies. She shook off a couple more poodles, and sat down to wait.

On the wall she cold see at least twenty portraits of silver poodles. Maisy: champion teacup poodle. Misty: Best in show. All posing in the arms of a proud petite woman she assumed to be Ms Opulenski. The housemaid wasn’t doing her job though. Lara rubbed the dust from her fingers.

She turned and started. Ms Opulenski stood in the doorway watching.

“Excuse me. I didn't see you. How rude,” and Lara walked over and firmly shook the papery hand. A number of sharp rings cut into her fingers. “I was just looking for a good picture ... of Darla. I’ll need more than this” Lara unfolded the fax.

“Indeed.” Ms Carstairs sat in the opposite couch, framed by sunlight trying to force its way through the shutters. Lara found it hard to make eye contact. She ploughed on.

“I need to know everything. Her date of birth. Was she desexed? Where her veterinary records are. Has she had pups? Any titles? I’ll need as much information as you can give me. The charge is a flat rate of $40 per hour, and any...additional costs incurred by myself or my employers. There is no money back guarantee, but as you can see” and here she hauled from her bag a book of referral letters “I have never failed yet.”

“I see.”

During the next obligatory pause, one of the poodles elected to defecate in the centre of the room. Ms Opulenski remained seated and rang a bell. The chambermaid bustled in, picked up the small soft stool in a tissue, and bustled out again. Lara waited for Ms Opulenski to continue.

“How do I know you are who you say you are?”

“I have my degree and qualifications right here.”

“Yes, indeed. But maybe you are the one that has my Darla. Maybe you want this information to...enhance...your crime. She was Royal Champion, you know. With all this information you could travel overseas. You could enter Crupps.”

“Yes. I could.” Lara rose and walked over to the women seated on the sofa. She crouched down and took her hands. Full sympathy voice ensued.

“Look. Ms Opulenski. I know what it’s like to lose somebody you care about. I had my Harry, a brilliant blue Burmese cat, stolen from my front yard. That's why I started this business. So no-one else would have to go through the grief and anguish I feel. That's why I’m the person to do this job for you. I feel your pain. I won’t stop looking until you say so.”

There was another pause. Lara relaxed as she noticed tears in the woman's faded grey eyes. “Very well, my dear. What do I have to do?”

“I can’t help you on this one, Lara.” Ben pushed his dark hair away from his forehead.

“Yes you can. Who’s vetting the show?”

“I think it’s Phil the Dil.”

“You think..”

“He does all the shows. Keeps him in with all the breeders.” Ben smirked.

Lara shuddered. “So, get me anything. Washing dogs, collecting swabs, anything you can. I’ve got to be at that show.”

“Why?”

“I need to find out who the new champion teacup poodle is.”

“How’s that going to lead to the missing beast?”

“Trust me.”

Anal glands.

Lara held her breath as she removed her gloves. Not even lashings of Lustre Aid could smother the smell. Ben was finished this time. She looked around the large hall from her bench, discreetly positioned as far away from the action as possible. Never mind. You'd be amazed how open people could be when having their pet’s anal glands squeezed. It seemed to bring about a brief sympathetic honesty.

There was some washed out new wave music piping through the speakers, but you couldn’t hear more than a pathetic wine over the hairdryers, clippers, curling wands, and barking around the hall. And that was just the owners. Lara had never seen a more thoroughly coiffed and made-up set of human beings. Predominantly middle aged women or overtly overwhelmingly gay men. There was work here to be had, and she’d bought a few of her cards to pass round. She had taken note of a few poodles with odd high pitched barks and noted their breeder’s. Debarking had been illegal in Australia for seventeen years.

A pair of blonde buffed boys approached bearing their black teacup poodle. Great. These lads could never keep a secret.

“How can I help you boys?”

“Jean Luc is ...” they met each other’s eyes “dragging his little bottom along the ground and we hoped you could oblige.” Eyes met again, followed by a giggle.

“My pleasure.” Lara slowly and deliberately donned her gloves and poured on extra lube. The boys winced with pleasure even as the little dog cried out in alarm. Just as well these are not Phil’s fingers, Lara thought, or you’d really be screaming. Time for polite conversation. “So, are you boys enjoying the show?”

Another giggle. “Well, these affairs are tedious, aren’t they. But it should be a little more exciting this year than usual.” Boy 1 replied.

“Why’s that then?”

“Well, it’s an open field,” said Boy 2. “Darla hasn’t shown,” he raised his eyebrows and picked up Jean Luc before Lara had a chance to remove all traces of anal fluid. “The Captain might win his first title” and he smothered the reluctant beast with kisses.

So, they didn’t seem to know about the kidnapping. “Apart from your splendid little dog, whom, in your expert opinion, do you think might win?”

“Well...just between you and I,” another giggle from Boy 1 “Amira Achmyhead has a new dog with her. A silver. Amira has...” they glanced at each other, “connections. She’s the proprietor of a Ginotorium, you know.”

“Not that you’ve ever been inside, love,” said Boy 2.

“Of course not, you obsidious wretch,” replied Boy 1 as he grabbed Boy 2 firmly on the balls and lead him away.

“You’ve got know idea how much I risked to get you this list. If I had been caught in Phil the Dil’s office I could have been chucked out of Vet school. Even worse, Phil might have demonstrated his famous rubber ring technique.” Ben thrust the list in her face and flopped into the sofa.

Lara wasn’t convinced. He’d have made more money cleaning out kennels than working for her, so she never understood why he stayed. He was useful though- a contact at the vet school was definitely useful.

She scanned the list.

Achmyhead: miniature poodle silver female 3 years entire ‘Baby’ microchip number A1052336789.

This didn’t match Darla’s number. Still, her gut feeling...

“Ok Ben, time for you to do some undercover work.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are uniquely qualified for this gig. It requires a person of cunning and ingenuity, access to a microchip scanner, some veterinary knowledge, and a willing and able penis.”

“What!”

“I want you to pose as a client at Amira’s Ginotoriom.”

“No way! Absolutely not! I’d rather be castrated.”

“I can arrange that.”

“Lara ... please.”

“I’ll give you a bit extra ... so you can have a drink first. Calm those inhibitions.”

“No Lara.”

“What’s the problem Ben? I know you’ve slept with every student nurse in the clinic.”

He was madly pushing his hair away from his face. “What if someone finds out I had to ... pay for it?”

Lara gave him a $100 bill. “I want you to scan that dog, and check for any recent scars. I need to find out if that microchip has been tampered with.” She gently pushed him down the stairs. “Report back here ... tonight!” The door slammed shut downstairs. She sat down at the computer and started to add in the charge to Ms Opulenski's invoice. The computer promptly crashed.

It was 4am before Ben returned. Lara was tired and edgy when he collapsed in the sofa in the corner of her office.

“So?”

He looked dazed, opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again.

“So...Ben. What have you got?” Still no reply. Lara walked over to him. She could smell smoke, but no alcohol. His pupils were dilated. She waved her hands in front of his face and tested his menace reflex. She shone her desk lamp into his eyes, but his pupils remained enlarged. He was blind...something. Drugged. Stupid recalcitrant. Couldn’t trust him to carry out a simple assignment. Lara called an ambulance.

She just have to go to Amira’s herself.

Chapter 2

No natural light, sound or air were allowed in. Opulent thick red and gold velvet curtains blocked the windows. A myriad of small naked flames provided light, which was magnified and multiplied by mirrors. Several doorways exited the hallway- each discreetly covered by hanging strings of coins. On the left side, steam slid through the gaps provided by the coins.The cold rooms must be on the right. Lara adjusted her frenicule- too tight around her head. It wasn’t designed to hide a polaroid camera.

Lara was confident Ms Opulenski’s funds had been spent wisely to pay for her exotic outfit and a weeks worth of bellydancing lessons. She wore a long dark wig, and heavy make-up. There was no way Amira Achmyhead would recognise her from the show. What’s more, she might even land the job of apprentice assistant,which would be interesting because it was sure to pay more than she was earning now.

Amira emerged from the closed curtains and swept down the hallway. She was well preserved fifty or so. Long dark hair, large nose, black eyes. Odd, her breasts seemed asymmetrical. Lara remembered that she, too, probably seems out of symmetry, having a microchip scanner installed in her left cup. She jangled with her heavily coined outfit as she stood to greet this woman. Her frenicule tilted alarmingly to the left.

Amira nodded in greeting and floated down onto a large pile of velvet cushions. From her left cup she brought out a silver teacup poodle, which licked her hand and sat by her side. A young man, blonde, wearing only a gold leather thong, trotted over and handed her a steaming goblet. Lara declined one of the same, she did not want to end up in detox like Ben.

“Ahh. She is the new helper. A little small up top. A little baksidian down below. But... it shall be seen. Hard working is required, and...” at this she glanced at two thonged men hidden in the corner.. “loyalty. She gives up the soul to Amira and in return” she flashed a golden smile “Amira will give her the reward.”

Lara heard but did not listen as she tried to plan a way to get closer to the poodle.

“She’s a beautiful dog.”

“She likes my Baby. She’s a Champion you know.” The lady petted the dog, who looked anything but relaxed, with a hand well hidden by enormous jewelled rings.

“Have you had her since she was a puppy?”

“She was a gift. What Amira wants, Amira gets. Why does she ask, my pretty. Would she like one. If she is good maybe we can arrange it.” She looked again to her henchboys - just like Boy 1 and Boy 2 - thought Lara.B1 and B2.

Amira sipped from her cup. Her eyes glazed over momentarily, then she was back.

“Her duties will involve the bathing and drying of our visitors. A little massage. A little dance. Not much else. The Lotharios will show her.” She signalled her boys. As one they came over and lifted Lara from her seat. They walked Lara gently down the hallway. They stopped. They drew aside the coined curtain. From within a strangely familiar velvet voice.

“Ah. At last the Superhero will get his girl. Caio bella!”

“Wow. Man. What a smachma! I haven’t kept anything down for a week.” Ben flopped into the sofa and put his feet up on her desk. Lara shoved them off.

“Last time a send a boy to do a woman’s work.”

“So did you catch anything?”

“Nope. But I got some polaroid’s of a recent scar on a silver poodle’s neck. And I’ve got myself a part time job...if I want it.”

“Wow, Lara. You gonna do it?”

“I’m thinking about it. The money’s good.”

“Wow. I mean. Lara ... I just can’t imagine it ... with you I mean.”

“Imagine away, matey ... ’cause you’ll never know.”

Ben stared at her for a few minutes, and she was sure a red flush crept up his cheeks. “So ...” he said after a few minutes, “What’s next?”

“I need you to do some talking. Some asking. I want to find out which vets the poodle breeders are using.”

“Wait a sec. You don’t even know for sure this is Darla.”

“Leave that to me. ” Lara stood and paced the floor. “There's some malpractice going on out there. Some-ones debarking the poodles, and that same some-one is likely to have uncouth microchipping habits. Ask around. Go through the university data base. You’d get some referrals from breeders. Find out who their usual vets are. But Ben..” and she stood over him and gently kicked his feet back off her desk again, “Don’t get caught. This is a bit bigger than one missing poodle.”

Ben did not return for five days. During that time Lara went to see Ms Opulenski, to ask for more money. Until her first cash payment from Amira was in the bank, she had nothing to live on, and her office rent was due.

“Another $1500. I see.” Ms Opulenski sat, surrounded by poodles, and said nothing for several seconds, as was her habit. Lara had trained herself not to fidget, but to sit perfectly still and hold eye contact the whole time. “Very well. But I’d like to see and itemised invoice. To see how my money is being spent.”

“Very wise, Ms Opulenski,” Lara replied, “But it would be wiser still if I did not comply. You see..” She stood and walked over to her employer, and took up her hand,“ We are close. Very close. I cannot allow a single accidental indiscretion to interfere. I’ll have Darla back in your lap before you know it.”

“Here.” Ben thrust the printed sheet in her hand.

“What took you so long?”

“Student’s don’t have access to the database, or has it been that long since you failed vet school?” Ben was unusually bitter.

“So you had to fuck the receptionist to get access.”

Ben raised his eyebrows “The things I do for you, my love.”

Lara turned away and perused the list. Karen Goldburg ... no ... far too honest. Andrew Grimeski ... up and coming new school too much to lose ... Aspen Pilchrage ... Aspen Pilchrage. Old school. Due to retire soon. There was a possibility. A discreet query was in order. A phone call from a new breeder. Had been given his name by ... Lara scanned the list ... Dimitri Nicolai ... Her prize stud dog’s microchip seemed to be out of action. Could anything be done?

“Ben. Could you set up that phone bug thingy for me?”

“It’s inadmissible evidence, Lara.”

“Ben. Do as I ask.” and Lara was already thinking ahead to the next step. If indeed old Aspen did remove microchips, how could she prove he removed one belonging to the poodle she assumed was Darla?

Lara held court with Amira. B1 and B2 hovered in the doorway.

“She has done well. The visitors are pleased with our new assistant. She has the interesting technique with the vermiculant. How may Amira help?”

Lara stood and walked over. She allowed the little poodle to sniff her hands, then parted the hairs on her neck. “I’m worried about this.” She quickly slipped an insulin syringe back up her sleeve.

Helga followed her gaze. The was a raised lump on her neck. It was dark and bruised. When Lara pressed on it the small dog squealed.

“Oh Gods what is that?”

“It might be an infection, Madame. Has Baby had a wound of any kind here?”

“Yes. Oh yes. What are we to do. She is only the baby. We can’t let anything happen to her.” Agitated, the woman stood up in a jumble of silk velvet and coins. Her goblet dropped to the floor, spilling a dark green liquid. B1 and B2 trotted over to assist.

“You should take her to a vet, Madame.”

“Yes. That is it. Does the assistant know of one?”

Lara thought quickly. “Is there a chance that she’s had some sort of surgery here, Madame? The infection follows a ...line, like a wound that has been stitched.” Lara held her breath. Too obvious.

“Yes. Yes of course. We should take her to the vet where she had the ... special surgery.” Amira’s eyes glazed over for a moment. Then she was back. “The Lotharios will get dressed and get the car. We will go straight to see the doctor. Amira is grateful. The assistant is the wise one, yes? Amira has a special visitor for her. She will see. He is young, and beautiful yes. With much money. She will enjoy, Amira thinks. Last time he come he have too much of ze raff stick. But we are more careful zis time. Come, my dear. He waits.” She steered Lara towards one of the steaming bathrooms. The coins parted, and she was left alone. Clouds of vapour swirled around her feet. She could barely make out the mosaics tiled on the floor. Naked men bathing. Women dancing. As the vapour temporarily cleared Lara noticed something white on the floor. She bent down to look at it. It was a bow tie.

She was about to collect it when the coined curtains parted, and her special visitor stepped in.

Lara paced the three by three meters of her tiny windowless office. What the hell was Ben up to? He must have known she’d be working at the Gynotorium on Tuesday night. But.. he hadn’t appeared to have recognised her. Was the disguise really that good?

And where did he get all that ‘much money’? Not from her employment.

Lara sighed. She needed an assistant she could trust. She called him into the office.

“Here,” she said, and thrust a steaming cup of black coffee in his hands.

“What have I done to deserve this, sweetness and light?” he asked.

“You don’t look well. Are you studying too hard?”

“You know me. I never study.”

“And you always pass.”

“Always.”

“Such a clever little bee.” Lara stared at him until her pushed the hair out of his face. “I need a favour.”

“Which of my attributes do you require service of this time?” Lara smiled as she remembered the true nature of his attributes. She handed him a plastic bag in which was sealed a tuft of silver hairs.

“This belongs to Darla. Ms Opulenski keeps a clipping of all her poodles hairs. And this,” she handed him another package, “belongs to Baby. I want you to have them DNA tested.”

“We don’t do DNA testing in the Veterinary School.” Ben drained his coffee and placed the cup on the floor.

“The genetics department can do it. They are pioneering cloning of pigs. Use your...attributes Ben.”

“You expect me to sleep with the pigs.”

“I expect you to do what it takes.”

“And what are you gonna do?”/p>

“I..am going to pay visit to Dr Aspen Pilchrage. I believe his printer needs attending to.”

“Maybe I should do that. I know this is the twenty-first century, but I’ve never yet heard of a female printer serviceperson.”

“That’s the first time you’ve volunteered for anything, Ben. You’re slipping.”

He folded his arms.

“I am mistress of many disguises, Ben. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I’m sure you can.” He stood and walked close to her. “But be careful Lara. Don’t get caught. This is bigger than one missing poodle.”

“I wont” she said as he disappeared down the stairs.

Mergatroyd was still inactive, so she had to catch a combination of three goom’s to St Mary’s. Still, this enabled her to practice her new gender. The moustache tickled and was probably a little dark for her complexion, but no-one seemed to care. Lara thought of sit-com where our trusty disguised female protagonist had neglected to speak in a deep male voice. She trained herself to clear her throat slightly before speaking.

“A-hem. Dave Smith here. Northumberland printers. We got a call yesterday.”

“Did-ja. I’ll just have ter check with Dr Pilchrage. ‘E's in consult.”

“A-hem. No need to disturb him. I wont be a moment. Reception terminal, I think he said. You wouldn’t mind if I sat here a sec?”

“No probs. Want a lozenge, mate?”

“A-hem. No thanks.”

The young receptionist, who was obviously encouraged to wear a short tight nursing dress over her ample condition, walked over to another terminal and answered the phone. Lara got to work. They were using Vet-Aid, a system she was familiar with so it didn’t take long to find Amira’s records. Under the name of Arima Dahymhca.

“A-hem. Just testing the printer, love.” she called over her shoulder. She quickly printed out the veterinary history. Then she turned and scanned the shelves behind her. Path reports. Admission forms. Then a large folder which said microchip forms. She glanced over her shoulder. The consulting room door was still shut, and the receptionist was lost in conversation with some girlfriend on the phone.

Lara opened the folder. Darla had been missing two weeks, which brought her back to the 1st of July. The forms were out of order, but she found them anyway.

“You got a photocopier, love?” The girl pointed to a back room. Lara copied the forms and quickly replaced the folder. Still, she didn’t have enough. She had evidence to show Amira had been seen two days ago for a wound infection, and evidence that a new microchip had been placed 2 weeks ago. But she needed proof that Dr Pilchrage was removing existing microchips and replacing them. Lara sighed. She had to be gone by the time he’d finished with his patient. Old school, she reminded herself. They take forever.

“You gotta toilet, love?”

“Out the back,” the girl went back to her interrupted conversion.

Lara walked out back. Like most one-man operations, there was no other staff. The surgery bin was full. Lara placed a glove on and searched through the testicles, ovaries, poo and one foreleg until she found what she was looking for. A microchip- still covered in congealed blood. Careless, Dr Pilchrage. She placed it in a plastic bag. If he was truly old school, and didn’t wear gloves, then it would have his fingerprints on it.

She was about to go back out front when she overheard a male voice.

“Tell him Dave Blarney’s here to see him in person. Say I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is a matter of some urgency.”

Dave Blarney! He was on the Board. What the hell was he doing here? Lara opened the door a crack and watched. A red faced Aspen Pilchrage emerged apologising from his consulting room. He signalled Dave Blarney and they both made towards the treatment room, where Lara stood. She crawled into a cage, covered herself with a towel, and pressed voice activate on her recorder, situated where all male bulges should sit.

“Someone’s on to you, Aspen”

“What do you mean?”

“We have reliable information, someone is investigating you. Get rid of all the evidence. Delete files. Shred paper. Can you trust your nurse?”

“I’m sleeping with her.” Silence.

“Sack her. We both have too much to lose.”

Lara, who now really did need to take a pee, held her pelvic muscles and her breath as Aspen Pilchrage sat, tired, on a stool. There wasn’t much money to be made running a one man show. Lots of work. Lots of after hours. Lots of unpaid bills. He’d probably just wanted to retire comfortably.

But...who had warned Dave Blarney?

Chapter 3

“Here.” Another printed sheet. Ben flopped down but wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Lara scanned the sheet. There were two gene maps. They were not identical.

“I don’t understand Ben. This means they were two different samples.”

“Yep. Different dogs. You’re wrong Lara. The Ginotorium dog is not your missing Darla.” Ben put his hands behind his head and looked up at last. Lara then handed him a similar sheet of paper.

“What’s this?̵ he asked.

“It’s the gene maps of the hairs. I, too, have connections in the genetics lab. It’s the one subject I didn’t fail. It’s the one subject, in that whole veterinary department, that you don’t have to sign up to some faction, or sell your soul to some religion, to actually pass. As you can see, Ben, they come from the same dog. I’m not wrong. I’m never wrong.”

Ben finally met her eyes.

“OK. So they’re the same dog. What are you gonna do Lara? Kidnap her back? Go to the police? Tell me your plan. Lara. Or don’t you have one.”

“If I did have one - and I’m not saying I don’t — then I wouldn’t tell you because you’d probably just go tell Dave Blarney. Do you suck him off first Ben? You’ve a pretty dexterous tongue in your head. You can probably talk and suck at the same time. After all, time’s money.”

“What?”

“How much did they pay you Ben? The Board?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Lara?”

“Where’d you get the money? You’re not short. Apparently you’re one of Amira’s special visitors, now. You have to pay for that privilege.”

“You’re wrong..”

“I’m never wrong. I know just where you like that extra vermiculant.” She laughed with forced jocularity.

This time he did go pale. “That was you.” He sighed. “Wow. You were fantastic. I didn’t think you’d be that good. Wow ... where do we go from here then, gorgeous?̵

“You go out the door.”

“You can’t do this without me.”

“I don’t trust you anymore Ben.”

“And where are you gonna find some-one you do trust? You’re in deep shit, Lara. You're in deeper than you can know. Oh yeah, the Board’s on to you. the Board would like to put a stop to you before you expose any illegal Practices. They are acutely aware, my sweet, that you have absolutely no qualifications. But that’s not all. You’ve got no idea what goes on at Amira’s. No idea what shit you’re in. Those bananas in thongs are not just gonna stand by while you kidnap Darla back. And they’re sure as hell not gonna stand by and ever let you leave.”

Ben reached into his pockets and handed her some Polaroids. “Quaint, aren’t they?”

Lara flicked through them.“They’re sick. How long have you had them? And why haven’t I seen this crucial evidence before now?”

“I forgot.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ben.”

“Truly ruly, Lara. I took them that first night. Hid the polaroid in my pants. Amira was impressed and gave me the raff sticks. Then your’s truly was in the Schmachma and forgot.”

“And you only remember now.”

Ben ignored the remark. “It makes sense. The boys scan the shows for champion bitches in heat. They kidnap them. Then ... hey presto ... puppy porn!”

Lara remembered the white bow tie. “We should report this to the RSPCA.”

“It’s OK Lara. The dogs don’t care. They’re only doing what comes naturally to them.”

Lara folded her arms. “So. Why did you lie to me?”

“About the gene maps. To protect you, Lara.”

“Bullshit!”

“No bullshit. I wanted you off the case. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because ... I ... I ... love you.”

It was Lara’s turn to blush. “Shit Ben.”

“Only joking. I don’t know. Why should I care if you get in trouble? As you’ve pointed out I don’t need your money.”

“Something you haven’t really explained to me yet.”

“Personal stuff, Lara. None of your business.”

“So why did you lie? Try the truth, this time.”

“Maybe I hate that you’re always right.”

“OK. Let’s see how good you are. What would you do, if you were the one who had all the answers.”

“Easy. I’d seal all the evidence in a big bag and lock it away in a safety deposit box. Then I’d buy and ex-breeding silver teacup poodle from a discreet breeder, and have a discreet vet doctor the microchip on her, and return her to Ms Opulenski as her beloved lost-now-returned Darla. She’d never know the difference, and Lara Moffat Pet Investigations has another successful outcome. The Board stays off your back.”

“Can you organise this for me?”

“I can.”

“Then do it.”

Ben loped down the stairs. After the door slammed, Lara removed her tape recorder from her bra. She removed the tape, and sealed it in a bag with the gene maps,the photos, and the evidence against Aspen Pilchrage and Dave Blarney.

“As you can see, Ben, I’m never wrong.”

Lara did not wear her disguise when she told Amira she no longer wished to work for her. Amira did not appear to notice. She patted Baby on the head.

“She looks well, yes? She is with the babies. Would my Assistant like to join us in a celebratory drink. Amira will ask the new Lothario to bring forth.”

Lara started. She had noticed the absence of B1 and B2. She now noticed one solitary thong hanging in the corner of the vestibule. What the hell is Ben up to now?

But the velvety voice which accompanied the steaming goblets did not belong to Ben.

“Caio Bella.”