by Jerold Last
I let myself relax visibly, projecting honesty and sincerity. "Sherry offered to loan me her dog, Juliet, to live as our family pet for as long as it takes. We would appear as wealthy sponsors making intense campaigning possible for Juliet, which Sherry herself can't afford. Sherry suggested we show Juliet as a special towards her silver and gold awards. Whenever this job is finished we’d have to return Juliet to Sherry since she and her dog are very attached to each other. After speaking with Sherry, I discussed with my wife what might be reasonable for our family to do. We have a 9-month old son, Robert, and although we’ve wanted a dog we felt we weren’t in a position to take on a young puppy. Suzanne felt that the offer of an adult, fully trained dog would work, but it would be very hard on Robert to return the dog when this job is finished if he became attached to Juliet, which we assume he will. One of the things Suzanne and I discussed on the plane ride out here was the type of arrangement I should request to reasonably match my need for a cover story on the dog show circuit with my family’s need to be made whole after the job is completed.”
I upped the honesty and sincerity quotient by leaning towards Carswell and looking even more earnest. “Suzanne came up with what I think is a win-win idea that should make Sherry and us happy. I hope it will work for you and the AKC as well. We propose to accept Sherry’s offer and take Juliet on a long-term loan of indefinite length. Juliet would live in our house, be well loved, and be shown on the West Coast circuit in the Best of Breed competition through her Grand Championship to the highest level we can reach. She’ll be entered in any show Sherry thinks is appropriate, up to one set of shows at a given location per week. Sherry will get her dog campaigned aggressively and vigorously as a by-product of this investigation, which seems to be a reasonable payment for giving up Juliet’s company for quite a long time.”
My earlier life as a lawyer came in handy here. That experience had taught me the basics of negotiation and manipulation. At this point, it was time for the counter-arguments so Carswell would believe all of this was his idea, not mine. “AKC would have to pay all of Juliet’s entry fees in that scenario, so there would be some dog show-related costs for AKC to pay, but they should be predictable and reasonable. In addition, I’ll have expenses that you’ll need to reimburse for attending most, or all, of these shows, as well as my usual fees and expenses that I’ll be billing to the AKC. Our nanny, Bruce, who also works for my agency part-time as a detective, would handle Juliet in the ring. He's fully qualified to do so based on his training in the military. You'll have to take care of whatever retroactive paper work is necessary for him to be licensed as a professional handler. I'll bill the AKC for his salary and expenses as one of my detectives on the case and he’ll be our entry point into the handler world. There won't be any handling fees for AKC to have to pay Bruce for showing Juliet in that scenario."
Carswell actually smiled, a large genuine smile. "That sounds like a good deal for the AKC, Mr. Bowman. I like that idea. And I like the idea of having a second detective on the case. Four eyes are better than two."
As long as I'd made him happy, it seemed like a good time to ask for more. “We’re going to need some additional expensive equipment that I don’t have if we're going to pull this undercover assignment off and accomplish what you’re hiring me for. Can I charge things that come up to expenses without having to clear them beforehand with you?”
He looked a bit more cautious. “What sorts of things did you have in mind, Mr. Bowman?”
I projected earnest and honest as hard as I could. “Where I live, finding an airline that takes dogs can be a problem. I plan to go to the dog shows just in California, and maybe in Arizona, until there’s a reason to fly somewhere that’s too far to drive. Over the long run a long-term lease on a comfortable minivan should be cheaper than flying to large airports and renting transportation each time we travel any distance with Juliet. I wanted authorization to lease a reasonably sized minivan that will hold three adults and an infant seat as well as a large dog crate for Juliet.”
Carswell nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll sign off on a 1-year lease for a new or used minivan when we get the bill, which I want you to charge directly to us. We get a substantial discount on things like this if you lease it through any major auto dealership. Personally, I’d recommend Honda for the minivan. Anything that has an obvious application to your assignment, like this, can be charged to expenses. For direct billing of major items to the AKC, just include an explanation of what it’s for and why it’s the best choice to facilitate your progress. We’ll need receipts and detailed explanations for any requests for reimbursement from us, so use direct billing when you can. Is there anything else you think you’ll need?”
This was a lot more than I expected. It was probably a good time to quit while I was ahead. “Not that I know of yet, but I’m sure things will come up as time goes by. I appreciate your flexibility and the implied trust in me.
“There's one more thing we should discuss now. Sherry wants Juliet returned to her when this case is over, to breed at some convenient time in the following year. Suzanne suggested that AKC buy one of Juliet's puppies for my family as a replacement when we return Juliet to Sherry. Since we have a toddler who will have gotten used to having a dog around, I believe we’ll need a replacement. Bruce has already volunteered to cross-train the puppy for conformation shows and hunt tests. Sherry is planning on breeding Juliet in the next year or so, which should be about the right timing to make this work. I don't think this is asking too much from the AKC. Do you, sir?"
Carswell smiled benignly at me. "No, I don't. And I like the idea of your family ending up with a show dog and becoming part of the AKC family when this is all over."
It was my turn again. I leaned towards the big desk and decided to give Carswell a turn. "I assume you've checked me out thoroughly. Do you have any questions I can answer?"
We talked a little bit about the size of my detective agency, how I would arrange to juggle whatever other work we had with what would essentially be my half- to full-time commitment to AKC, and which other operatives I envisioned using on this case besides Bruce, and what their roles would be. Carswell was quite impressed with my background as a former homicide detective on the Los Angeles Police Department and as a practicing attorney before I became a P.I. I explained to him that over the last couple of years, much of my best detective work had been done in South America. He was perhaps even more impressed with the background that Bruce, a former navy SEAL, and Vincent Romero, a former CIA agent, brought to my agency and asked for additional details.
I explained a little bit more about Bruce and Vincent, who would be working with me on this case. “Bruce joined the navy fresh out of high school. As a Navy SEAL, he soon saw combat in both Iraq and Afghanistan. He was pretty young at the time and suddenly had a lot going on in his life. Needless to say, Bruce had to grow up fast. He reenlisted once, so he did two tours of duty in all, both in combat zones. As an obviously gay man with no college education, he realized he had hit a glass ceiling in his navy job, so he mustered out after his second hitch. Looking for a job back home in Wisconsin, Bruce unfortunately discovered a great deal of prejudice in the local police forces after he left the Marine Corps. After thinking long and hard about career prospects for gay policemen and how much he liked working with children he opted to go through Nanny School in Southern California instead. We are quite lucky to be his first full-time employers after his graduation. He’s a superb Nanny and a man of many skills that come in handy as a part-time assistant in occasional cases of mine, especially as a bodyguard for clients. I had a chance to get to know him a lot better in Montevideo when we worked together on a complicated murder case, and I consider him to be a friend as well as an employee.
“Suzanne and I first met Vincent Romero during our pursuit of a aerial killer through Peru and Chile. By coincidence, he was also born and raised in Wisconsin, but a generation earlier than Bruce. He was a professor of biochemistry at the Unive
rsity of Chile’s branch campus in Iquique, a city in the far north of the country. He was also an undercover CIA agent down there for more than two decades. Vincent decided to retire from both the CIA and the University of Chile and move back to the United States. Shortly after we came home from Iquique, he moved to Los Angeles with his family. He works with me now as a bodyguard and a private detective.”
We also discussed specifics about money and how much we'd be paid. There would be three of us, Bruce, Vincent, and I, getting fees and expenses for whatever time we spent on this case, plus a generous retainer fee for the agency to formalize the relationship, and an even more generous bonus if we solved the AKC’s problems with the western dog show circuit. Now that we were best buddies, Carswell was offering to be quite generous with the AKC's money.
About 45 minutes later, we had covered everything practical that needed discussion at this preliminary stage. Carswell's body language and frequent glances at his wristwatch told me the interview was just about over. "For the rest of this morning, you'll be talking to my staff who you met when you arrived. Answer their questions as completely as you can with generalities, but don't get into the specifics we've discussed if you can avoid doing so. I would especially avoid any details about your plans once you've become a dog owner. I believe that everyone in the group is trustworthy, but better safe than sorry!
“After lunch you and I will talk some more about your plans as Juliet's sponsor, and what I think may be a good place for you to begin your investigations. You may assume that we’ll formally offer you this job at lunch."
Chapter5.Making the Rounds
My next scheduled stop was at Nathan Forrest's office, just down the hall. I took a short detour en route, at a convenient urinal, to return the contents of a cup or two of coffee I had consumed then knocked on the closed door.
"Come in," answered a voice from inside the room.
I entered. Forrest sat in a large chair behind a large desk, both chair and desk considerably smaller than Carswell's, but still a big chair and a big desk. It was hard to tell as he sat in his elevator chair, but as I remembered from when he was walking out of the conference room, he was short, five foot five inches or so, pudgy, and soft. He was in his mid-50s, thoroughly unimpressive. His most noteworthy features were a hairline that had receded almost to infinity----he was almost completely bald----and the vanity that made him try to comb over what little graying hair he had left, in an attempt to make him look less bald than he was.
"Good morning Mr. Bowman." His accent was standard American without any strong regional inflection. He had the hint of a stammer in his speech, but it had been well corrected. It could only really be appreciated if you listened carefully as he spoke a few specific hard consonants of the alphabet. "C-can I get you a c-cup of c-coffee?"
"No, thank you. I'm just about fully loaded with coffee at this point."
That pretty much exhausted the pleasantries. Forrest asked me several questions about my usual business as a private detective, what I had done before I became a P.I., what kinds of dogs I liked, and whether I owned a dog. He seemed to be impressed that I had been a police detective, even more impressed when I told him I had been a homicide detective, and still more impressed when I told him I graduated from UCLA Law School. I shared my liking of hunting dogs, especially German Shorthaired Pointers. He politely corrected me that in AKC-speak they were called Sporting Dogs. I made a mental note not to make that mistake again when I was claiming expertise on the dog show circuit. I kind of evaded the question about dog ownership for now.
Forrest apparently wanted to make a good impression on me, at least as much as vice was versa. He explained his job at the AKC. "I'm responsible for m-managing several IT functions here at the AKC, including a c-couple of very large databases. We have tens of thousands of past and present members registered and hundreds of thousands of dogs. We also m-maintain a DNA databank for specific c-canine identification. It is used for resolving disputes about ancestry that might arise, and for research purposes. Our databank has information on tens of thousands of dogs representing the 177 breeds currently recognized and registered by the AKC. That's a lot of doggy DNA and a lot of c-computer programmers to keep track of. F-fortunately we outsource m-most of the actual p-programming to India and Uruguay, so I d-don't get d-directly involved in any of that s-stuff."
Forrest leaned forward and asked me in hushed and confidential tones whether any of the AKC staff members had recommended me for this job. In my mind I translated this question as a discrete probe of how much juice I had with his boss, which would tell him whether he should be actively supporting me for this job if he wanted to stay in Carswell's good graces. This was an obvious opportunity to score a few points, so I did.
"It’s my understanding that today's interviews are a chance for us all to get to know each other, but the decision to hire me was already made before the AKC offered to pay for my trip out here to meet you all. Isn't that what they told you?"
"Well, er, uh," he fidgeted and fussed while he thought of an answer. "Yes, that's exactly what Harold told m-me."
“Interesting,” I thought to myself, “this guy’s major goal in life is to keep Carswell happy. I wonder how many of the other board members are just here to give Carswell a majority vote for whatever he wants?”
We talked about California and New York (actually Connecticut and a long daily commute by train) as places to live, Los Angeles versus New York City as places to work and visit, and a whole lot of meaningless social chitchat to kill the rest of the time. Forrest was obviously impressed by the image of wealth, and he was quite surprised to hear that Suzanne and I lived in Beverly Hills in the famous 90210 ZIP code. Finally, our allotted time was up and I was sent off for my next meeting, with Eugene Burnett-Smythe.
All of the meetings subsequent to my time with Harold Carswell went along the same lines, with variants of the same topics being discussed. My brief first impressions of the majority of the Board of Directors (or whatever this group was) except for Carswell were pretty much what you’d expect. They seemed to be a mix of second and third generation of heirs to wealthy men and bottom of the barrel used car salesmen types, supplemented with two or three kids who grew up poor and made it to what was for them the top. The mix as a whole was a mediocre talent pool, in cushy and undemanding sinecure-type jobs, with a big income but with little stress or pressure to perform beyond keeping the boss happy.
Burnett-Smythe was another thoroughly unimpressive rich guy in his mid-50s, taller than Forrest at about 5 foot 9 inches, going to fat with a big belly, and had a pattern of red and broken veins on his bulbous nose that shouted "I drink far too much". Eugene was the AKC librarian and historian, whatever that meant. He spent pretty much the entire time we were together telling me about the man he considered to be the most interesting man in the world, himself. “I know just about everything there is to know about the AKC history, rules, and regulations. If you ever want to know which dog owner did what, I’m the man to come to.”
Burnett-Smythe had strong opinions about just about everything. I heard a lot about the good old days when the dogs were better, the shows were better, and the whole AKC was better, too. He laid a finger beside his nose to indicate that I was about to hear some confidential secrets and told me in a voice just barely above a whisper, “If you need to know anything, anything at all, about dogs, dog shows, or the AKC, I’m the man to ask. And don’t forget to take a look through the AKC museum while you’re here today. I’m the curator of the museum’s art collection, which is one of the best and most extensive collections of canine art work in the world.”
Henry Cabot was a rail-thin man over 6 feet tall in his late 60s. He affected the academic image with a bow tie, a corduroy sports jacket with elbow patches, and a pipe he was constantly playing with. Judging from the lack of any tobacco aroma, he never smoked it. He compounded his pseudo-academic image by wearing a beret, which I assume was more to cover his bald spot than to stay wa
rm in the overheated office complex. Henry was the liaison with the large subcontractors who actually handled the logistics and operations at thousands of events throughout the United States the AKC sponsored annually.
Cabot was another compulsive talker who went on and on about how complex and demanding his job was and how only he could do it. His only question for me was, “Wah on earth would y’all think y’all could be successful takin’ on a job investigatin’ dog shows with as little background as y’all have with dogs?”
He got the same sort of answer I’d given Carswell. “A lot of my work involves going undercover and playing a role, like an actor in a new play. It’s not about being an expert about everything, it’s about being able to create a believable character that can join the cast and fit in. I’ll be playing the role of a first-time dog sponsor with plenty of time and money but who doesn’t know much of anything about the whole dog show scene. I suspect that people will believe me in that role.”
I didn’t get the impression that he was hanging on every word of my answer, especially when his only reply was to check his watch, decide we had used up our allotted time, and with regional inflections of the deepest south in his voice bid me farewell. "It was real fine chatting with y’all, ya heah."
