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eggs, dry
toast, and coffee. I was surprised at how good the coffee smelled,
and I was actually pretty hungry having missed my Osso-Bucco at Fat
Johnny’s. I was even more surprised that the French roast was able
to cut through the stench in tank! I closed my eyes for a moment
figuring I would be relatively safe for a few minutes while
everyone ate in silence. A power catnap was just what the doctor
ordered, and I was almost out when I felt the sharp sting of a
baton across the soles of my shoes.
    “ WHAT THE…” I hollered as I
scrambled to my feet!
    “Snap out of it Roode, the LT said to cut you
loose before he got into work. Said he saw enough of you’re ugly
puss last night,” Deputy Blackburn said with a wicked grin. He
leaned against the bars and watched me hop up and down holding my
left foot which was still smarting from the baton tap.
    “You enjoying yourself Bob,” I asked
dryly?
    “Ah, you know how it is Whitey, we aim to
please hoss,” he answered with an even bigger grin.
    “Natch,” I replied walking past him toward
the open cell door.
    He giggled like the dumb-ass hillbilly he was
and followed me out of the cell and on up the stairs at the end of
the short hallway. We paused at the heavy door at the top and
waited to be buzzed into the mantrap. The door unlocked
automatically when the green light came on and we walked inside
together. It was pretty cramped quarters and I actually felt bad
for Blackburn having to breathe my stink, I could barely stand my
own self! He reached around me and pressed a button on the squawk
box behind me.
    “Come on man; shake a leg out there will ya!
Whitey here is pretty ripe, I can actually smell my nose hairs
burning,” Blackburn pleaded. The door buzzed and slid open before
he could heap on any more humiliation onto what was left of my
self-esteem.
    “Let’s go stinky, I want you on the street
and out of my airspace before I lose my breakfast,” Blackburn
ordered.
    He gave me a firm but friendly nudge with his
night stick and I exited quickly, without bothering to look back or
trade quips with the big lug. I just casually flipped him off as I
walked over to the property cage to collect my personal items and
bus fare. I could hear Blackburn howling with laughter as he went
back into the mantrap to return to his duties. I listened to the
clerk count out my small wad of cash (small in denomination that
is) and then identify each item before I signed the receipt. I
couldn’t wait to get the flock outta there! My first stop post lock
up would be my flat for a long hot shower and then I planned to hit
The Pantry over on Ninth for a proper breakfast and some quiet time
to figure out my next move.
    I had stewed all night on the blue thread
theme and couldn’t help wondering why Oscar and the blue crew were
so protective of this particular case. Something didn’t smell right
and given my current hygienically altered state that was saying a
lot! I decided before I’d taken ten steps out of the building and
sucked in my first few gulps of fresh air (a bit of an
oxymoron considering that I lived in Los Angeles), that I would
ping on my ace in the hole over at USC Medical Center and call in a
couple of favors she owed me. Judy Looney (a.k.a. Looney Tunes)
taught forensic science at the University and was also a
regular
    Consultant on most of the big-time murder
cases in the area. No doubt there would be some conflict of
interest here given the fact that she was probably already involved
in Oscar’s investigation, but she was also a close (and I mean
close) friend of my ex-wife Ronald, I mean Rhonda, no , I
guess I do mean Ronald? Oh bag it, that gender bending concept just
frustrates the crap outta me! Suffice to say that she was more than
just a regular at my monthly poker games; she was a regular at my
ex’s parlor games as well, nuff said.
    Judy was the exception to the rule that “those who can’t…teach” she was in fact the guru of forensic
science. Her