Superbia 3 by Bernard Schaffer Page B

always calling the cops about our dogs shitting on his lawn.  You should bust him."
    "You want me to trade up a heroin dealer for a guy with a pot plant?" Frank said.  " How about, go fuck yourself."
    "That's all I've got!" Moses said.  He smacked the table in frustration, "You said telling you about Jessie was all I had to do.  You guys suck , man.  For real."
    "All right," Frank said.  He shrugged to Reynaldo and said, "I'll see what I can do with the DA's office.  It's not your fault , but it's not my fault either.  Just remember I tried.  Officer Francisco, please see this young man out."
    "Absolutely," Reynaldo said.  "Come on, Moses." 
    Moses watched Reynaldo get up to lead him away and said, "What if I know a guy who deals in kiddie porn?"
    Both Frank and Reynaldo stopped moving and immediately looked at Moses.  Frank took a long, deep breath that he let out very slowly before he waved for Reynaldo to sit back down. "Start talking, son.  From the very beginning, and don't leave out a single goddamn thing." 
    "All right, I don't exactly know him.  He's this guy I heard about from a friend of mine who says it's real."
    Frank rolled his eyes, " In other words, a total wild goose."
    "I don't think so.  My friend watched him pull up a list of files with seriously sick names.  Evil Child Rape, Anal Kiddie Force, Satan's Lust, Oral Toddler ."
    "Enough," Frank said.   "I get the picture." 
    "He was wigged out.  It wasn't like he was telling me about it to brag or anything.  He was sick to his stomach." 
    "What's your friend's name?" Reynaldo said. 
    Moses shook his head, "No way.  I'm not dragging anybody else into this.  I'll tell you everything I know about it, and you do what you can from there." 
    "That's not good enough," Reynaldo said.
    "Then I guess I'm fucked because that's all I got."
    "Hang on," Frank said, touching Reynaldo's arm to calm him down.  "I want to hear the rest.  What's this other guy's name, the one with the files?"
    "Freddie.  Freddie Phelps.  He manages Burgorff's."
    "That dumpy old clothing store?" Reynaldo said. 
    Frank rotated his finger sideways and said, "Keep talking.  Ignore Officer Francisco's constant attempts to interrupt you."
    " Right," Moses said.  "So, my buddy was working there last year and right away, he picks up on this Phelps guy as some sort of oddball.  Mid-forties, not married, kind of quiet but kind of creepy, right?  At first, he thinks the guy's a faggot."  Moses shot a concerned look at Reynaldo and stopped speaking.
    "What?" Reynaldo said.
    "Just making sure.  You ain't look black either."
    Frank barked with laughter and Reynaldo said, "Oh, very funny.  Both of you go to hell."
    "So my buddy's job is to clean up the bathrooms and the dressing rooms.  Every day he's pulling used maxi pads out of the toilets when they get clogged and putting back all the clothes people try on and toss on the ground.  I don't know if you ever been to Burgorff's but it's straight up ghetto, for real.  And on top of all that, he starts to think this Phelps guy is following him around.  Every time he's back in the dressing rooms he sees this dude lurking nearby, like he wants to take him in the back and sick his duck or some shit."
    Frank tapped the notepad in front of Reynaldo and said, "Keep writing.  That was 'sick' and 'duck.'  I want notes on all this."
    "Anyway, all of the dressing rooms are the same size, but the one on the end is covered in stickers and shit like, Spongebob, My Little Pony, Pokemon,  that stuff, so of course, that's the one all the little kids like to go in, right?
    " 'This was my idea,' Phelps told my friend.  'It helps us compete with the bigger stores.  I got the idea at a children's dentist's office.'
    " Inside the dressing room, there's stuffed animals mounted in each corner.  They're stacked on top of each other from the floor to the top of the dressing room dividers on all four corners.  Dozens of these things, but