The Scent of Murder by Barbara Block Page B

shower, put on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck, fed the cat, and left the house.
    There was a line at the bank—I don’t know why the branch I use doesn’t have a line just for commercial transactions, but it doesn’t. By the time I got out of there, put gas in the cab—which I had to do because the indicator was below empty—got my coffee, my papers, and picked out my doughnuts, it was almost ten o’clock.
    I was unlocking the door to Noah’s Ark, when a guy who’d sold me an iguana a month before came up and informed me he wanted it back. When I explained that I’d already sold it, he did a good imitation of a man about to go postal. It seems Iggy the Iguana had been his girlfriend’s. He sold it when she’d walked out on him. Well, now they were back together, but if she discovered he’d gotten rid of it, they wouldn’t be together for long. Fortunately one iguana pretty much looks like another. Well, not exactly, but close enough, if you’re not paying strict attention.
    â€œDon’t worry,” I told the guy, as I sent him out the door with Iggy II. “She’ll never know.”
    â€œYou’re sure?” he asked.
    â€œI’m positive,” I lied. At this point, I would have said anything to get him to leave. I checked the clock on the wall. It was ten forty. My coffee was cold, and I hadn’t even begun cleaning out the cages. This, I decided, as Manuel came sauntering in, was not going to be a good day.
    â€œOne of Rabbit’s friends has a ...” he began.
    I cut him off before he could get any further. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
    â€œHey, I’m just trying to ...”
    â€œI mean it, Manuel.”
    The tone in my voice must have finally penetrated, because he grumped a “fine” and went into a sulk.
    I took the phone book out from underneath the counter and pushed it towards him. “Here,” I said. “If you want to do something useful, take this into my office and dial all the Gleasons in the book. See if you can find out where Toon Town lives. I expected him to argue, but he picked up the directory and pointed to the bag of doughnuts.
    â€œCan I have one?”
    I nodded.
    â€œTwo?”
    â€œOne and a half.”
    â€œOkay.” He went into the back, from which he reemerged an hour later to tell me most of the people he’d called weren’t home, and the ones who were didn’t know anyone called Wallace. Then he told me he was leaving.
    I stopped in the middle of changing the wood shavings in the hamsters’ cage. “You can stay if you want.”
    Manuel shook his head. “I gotta go back over to Rabbit’s. I told him I’d help him do some stuff.”
    â€œWhat kind of stuff?”
    â€œNothing special.”
    â€œI hope you two aren’t breaking into cars again.”
    Manuel’s face flushed. “I’m not that stupid.”
    â€œGood.” I changed the topic to a more neutral one. “Listen,” I said, as he was leaving. “Ask Rabbit if he’s seen Amy. Ask him to ask him friends.”
    Manuel nodded, as he ambled towards the door. I went back to work. About two o’clock, I called Gerri Richmond. The line was busy. The line was still busy when Tim walked in at two thirty. At two forty five I decided to take my chances and run over there. It was probably better than phoning for an appointment, anyway. I didn’t want to give Gerri Richmond a chance to prepare herself. This time I wanted the advantage on my side for a change.

    No one answered when I rang the bell at Gerri Richmond’s house, but, given the two cars in the driveway, I figured someone was home. So I just kept my finger on the buzzer. After a minute of listening to the first bars of “Fur Elise,” Gerri came to the door. She didn’t look pleased to see me, but then, why should she be.
    â€œI’m busy,”