“Hello David, Bishop.”
“Oh, wait a minute. Rowden! Rowden!”
In the distance I heard Rowden answer, “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Bring me a glass of water. Hold it a minute, Rick.”
A moment later, I heard Rowden, now closer, say, “Here you go, Lieutenant.” Then I heard a plop, plop, followed by a fizzy noise. About a minute later, David came back on the line.
“Okay, Rick. I drank some Alka-Seltzer. I can stand talking to you for a second.”
“If you didn’t get so excited, you wouldn’t have to drink that stuff.”
“I never need this stuff until you call. Now, who’s dead?”
“Nobody. But there’s a guy in my office lying on the floor.”
“Then he’s dead. He’s got to be.”
“No, he isn’t, David. I just belted him in the jaw when he tried to get rough.”
The guy on the floor started to stir and moan.
“Hang on a minute. He’s waking up.”
I put the phone next to the guy’s mouth. “Groan for the nice police lieutenant.”
The guy groaned a little.
“Did you hear him, David?”
“Okay. So what if some guy got tired and went to sleep on your floor. What are you calling me for?”
The guy tried to sit up. “Hold it, David. He’s getting a little too active.” I punched him in the head and he went back to sleep.
“What did you do?”
“Kissed him goodnight.”
“What did you do that for?”
“He tried to pull a gun on me. And he looks like someone wanted for something.”
“Oh, well, hang on to him. I’ll send a car over.”
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