Dog Tags

CHAPTER 65

“MILO, TODAY IS SHOWTIME.” If Milo doesn’t trust me enough to find the envelope by now, he’s never going to. And since this is the Sunday before we present the defense case, there couldn’t be a better time.

Laurie and Marcus are in charge of security, and Willie is along to provide extra backup. Hike has gone on ahead to prepare for his role, and I’ve allowed Laurie to hire two off-duty cops to help out as well. They are two guys Pete recommended, and whom Laurie already knew.

Billy had said that there was more chance that Milo would deliver if we did it late at night, so as to mimic the actual event. But that creates too many dangers, and I’m just not going to risk it.

It’s a tricky operation to pull off. We are all cognizant of the danger to Milo; Santiago’s death removed any doubt that our enemy is resourceful and ruthless. So maximum security is required, but we have to avoid freaking Milo out. We need him as relaxed as possible.

Laurie attaches the GPS device to Milo’s collar, and we all examine a diagram of the neighborhood surrounding the bar. This is not the first time we’ve studied it; speaking for myself, by now I know it better than the Paterson streets where I live. We go over where each of us will be during the operation; no matter which direction Milo goes, some of us will be in position to follow him.

Of course, if he just sits there like he did last time, he’ll be fairly easy to follow.

Marcus grunts a signal to Laurie that the coast is clear, and we’re on our way in what amounts to a deceptive caravan, since we’re pretty spread out to avoid attracting attention. Milo is in the backseat of my car with Willie, who has coaxed him into laying his head on his lap. Willie seems unconcerned that his own head remains in the line of fire.

When we arrive we all go to our designated spots. Hike stands in the position where Erskine stood, in front of the bar. I stand where Billy stood, and Willie puts Milo in the place where he waited for the signal from Billy that night.

Today the signal will come from me, the guy Milo does or does not trust.

Everybody else fans out, in the general direction that Milo ran that night with the envelope. We all have GPS monitors and small walkie-talkies, so if he gets out of our sight, we’ll be able to track him quickly. I’m very nervous about the whole thing, but Milo looks serenely confident. According to Billy, Milo is great under pressure. If I’m ever stuck in a war in a dog-hole, Milo is the guy I want next to me.

Of course, just as we’re ready to begin the action, it starts to rain. Not a pleasant, drizzly summer rain, but a strong downpour, with the drops banging up off the pavement as they hit. As the commanding general of this operation, I have to make a decision: go or no go.

I opt for go; we’ve come too far to turn back now, and to do it again just increases the danger. Besides, Milo shows no sign of being affected by the rain. He’s just sitting there patiently, waiting for his cue.

Hike looks somewhat less joyful than Milo; I’m assuming that standing out in the rain in front of a bar, and not being able to go in, dry off, and order a drink, is not his idea of a good time. It’s becoming quite conceivable that Hike doesn’t possess an idea of a good time. At least I haven’t discovered it.

Laurie represents the command center; everybody is supposed to call in to her and report when they are set. Finally she gives me the signal… whenever I’m ready.

I motion to Hike, who nods and slowly starts to walk down to where Erskine stood when he was shot. Milo watches him and then turns to me, and I consider that a hopeful sign. He seems to be waiting for a signal.

Hike reaches the spot and stands there for a few moments. Milo seems to tense a little, maybe sensing that his moment is coming. As planned, Hike waits for about ninety seconds before taking an envelope out of his pocket. It’s a letter-size manila envelope, which is what Billy believes Erskine was carrying. Inside the open envelope is a piece of Erskine’s shirt; we are covering all the bases.

Once I see this, I make the hand motion to Milo that signifies he is supposed to make his move. He reacts immediately, jumping up and running toward Hike, who holds out the envelope while recoiling as if he is about to be run over by enemy tanks.

Milo launches in the air, truly an amazing sight each time I see it. He grabs the envelope out of Hike’s hand, much as he did from Juliet the last time we tried this. Of course, last time he just sat afterward looking for a treat, so this is the moment of truth.

And he runs… full speed, the envelope in his mouth. He runs back past the bar, just as he is reported to have done that night.

“He’s on the move!” I yell into the walkie-talkie, and I hear everybody’s excited response on the other end. I start running after Milo, though I don’t want to get too close, since I’m afraid he’ll stop and come running back to me for a treat.

Within seconds it becomes obvious that my running is a waste of time and oxygen; Milo is out of my sight after a few strides. The last I see of him he is making a right turn at the corner and heading up a small hill.

I report this to the others, then run to my car. I start the car and drive in the direction I saw Milo run, checking my GPS periodically. GPS reading is not my strength; I certainly hope my fellow GPSers can do better.

They can. With Laurie directing the way, they keep close tabs on Milo, and I’m able to head in that general direction in my car.

“Roosevelt Park!” Laurie yells. “Near the tennis courts.”

It’s a park about six blocks from the bar, fairly small and very quiet. At this time of day, there might be a few people playing tennis, and perhaps some mothers watching their children play on swing sets. Though I would imagine the rain would have scared them off already.

Except for Hike, I’m the last of our group to get there, so I just head for the collection of parked cars. I park as well, then jump out and run toward the tennis courts. I see Laurie, Marcus, Willie, and the two off-duty cops, but I don’t see Milo. When I get closer, I realize that they are blocking the view, and he is just behind them.

Milo is digging furiously in some brush and dirt. The area has gotten muddy because of the rain, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The envelope that he just took from Hike lies on the ground nearby.

Watching Milo dig is mesmerizing—his legs pump furiously, and the dirt and brush and mud go flying. He’s like a canine shovel, and in seconds we see it, the envelope we’ve been searching for, lying there exposed.

Laurie reaches in, takes it out of the hole, and hands it to me. I wipe some of the dirt off and tear it open as neatly as I can. I can’t imagine that the buried and now wet envelope could have fingerprints or other forensic material on it, but I’m careful anyway. Inside the envelope is a packet of papers, fastened together with a paper clip.

The cover sheet is blank. And so are the rest.

Except for the last one.

Which says, “Kiss My Ass.”