Detective

in case my buddy came back quick. Then I ducked down under the desk, and looked for a place to plant another bug. I had one on the phone, but I wanted one on the room.
    I had just managed to affix it to the underside of the desk, when I heard footsteps. I straightened up and turned my attention to the phone as he entered the room.
    I peeked up from my work to see him. It wasn’t my friend who had let me in and given me a Coke. It wasn’t his boss, Pluto, either. My heart stopped dead. It was Bambi, big as life. Tony Arroyo, the only one in the whole operation I’d ever met face-to-face, the only one who only had to take one look at me and the jig would be up. Holy shit. Thank god I remembered to take that piss at McDonald’s.
    My first thought was that I should have worn a disguise, that any private detective in his right mind would have figured Tony Arroyo might show up and would have worn a disguise. My second thought was that that was a dumb thought. Disguises work great in the movies, where the actors playing the crooks are directed not to recognize the hero, but in real life? A false mustache or a hairpiece and your eye goes right to it. You couldn’t think of a better way of attracting attention. My third thought was stop thinking so much and get your fucking head down.
    I kept my head down, thankful I was wearing a hardhat. Tony gave me a casual glance, then walked over to the couch, sat down, picked up a Penthouse magazine, and began looking at girls’ crotches. Better than my face, I thought. As quickly as I could, I started putting the phone back together again.
    I had nearly finished when a kid came into the room. He was tall and gawky, with a kind of goony-looking face. He couldn’t have been more than 22 or 23, and he had that eager puppy-like quality of youth. I was surprised. It had never occurred to me that Pluto would have children, but then why couldn’t dope dealers have kids just like anybody else.
    “Tony,” the kid said as Tony rose from the couch. “Good to see you. How you doing?”
    “Great, Victor. Couldn’t be better,” Tony said.
    Holy shit. There was no mistaking the tone in Tony’s voice. Subservience. This kid wasn’t named Victor after his father. This was Victor. This wasn’t Pluto’s kid. The kid was Pluto.
    “Look, Tony,” the kid said. “I got a problem with the phones today. The guy’s here now. Why don’t we go somewhere else?”
    That was my cue and I didn’t want to blow it. I didn’t want them to go somewhere else. I wanted them to talk right here, into the microphone, if you please.
    I’d gotten the phone back together. Now I snapped my tool kit shut, stood up, and moved between the two men, keeping my back to Tony.
    “Problem’s not here,” I said. It was hard keeping my accent and keeping my voice from cracking, but I managed. “I gotta check outside.”
    I pushed by him and out of the door. I could feel their eyes on my back, but I’m sure it was just my imagination. No one notices a repairman. At any rate, no one stopped me.
    I met my buddy in the front hall.
    “Gotta check outside,” I told him. “I’ll ring you if I gotta get in again.”
    He seemed thrilled by the prospect. I went out the front door and closed it behind me.
    I hurried down the driveway to the telephone pole. I put my toolbox on the ground, got out the climbing belt, and fastened it on. It should have been easier climbing the pole the second time, but fear made me fumble. Somehow, I finally reached the top. I got out my wire cutters, and as quickly as I could with trembling hands, stripped the wires and made the splice.
    I slid down the pole, went back to the front door, and rang the bell. Tall, Dark, and Ugly answered the door.
    “Found a loose connection,” I said. “Should be all right now. Let’s check it out.”
    He followed me to the phone in the kitchen. I picked up the phone and got a dial tone. I held the buzzing receiver up to him triumphantly.
    “There you go,” I said. “Back in service.”
    “What about the other phones?” he said.
    “They’ll all be working,” I told him. “It was the main feed.”
    He didn’t want to take my word for it. I supposed it would be his head if I were wrong. On the way out he detoured into the living room to pick up the phone. It worked. He glanced in the direction of the study, but I could see he was as reluctant to disturb the conference as I was. Weighing the two evils, he found it better to let it go.
    He let