Stalking the Dragon (4 page)

C
HAPTER
4

7:03
PM
–7:40
PM

“There's no reason for both of us to go there,” remarked Mallory as they left the Plantagenet Arms. “It makes more sense for me to do it. It's right around the corner from my apartment.”

“I agree,” said Winnifred. “I'll start checking with the SPCA, and some of the local veterinarians, just in case Fluffy managed to escape.”

Mallory looked unenthused. “That's a hell of a long shot,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “But I have to do
something
until we can come up with some leads.”

“There's got to be something more productive.” Mallory turned to the gremlin. “Jeeves, is there a local organization for toy dragon breeders and exhibitors?”

“Yes,” answered Jeeves. “The Greater Manhattan Miniature and Toy Dragon Club. Their corporate offices are in a beautiful old brownstone on West 34th Street.”

“Give Winnifred the address.”

Jeeves pulled a notebook out of his pocket, scribbled something, tore off the page he'd written on, and handed it to her.

“Have them pass the word about Fluffy,” Mallory told her. “No reason why we shouldn't get all the dragon breeders in the area working for us. They've got to have a certain amount of pride. Just explain that if Fluffy doesn't make it into the ring, Eastminster will probably be won by a chimera instead of a dragon.”

“Good thinking, John Justin,” said Winnifred, walking off. “I'm on my way.” Suddenly she stopped and turned to him. “When and where do we meet up?”

“I don't know,” replied Mallory. He lowered his head in thought for a moment. “I know there are dog ponds in the city. Jeeves, are they any dragon ponds?”

“Just one,” said the gremlin. “It's at the north end of Central Park.”

“Ten thirty?” said Mallory to Winnifred.

She nodded. “I'll find it.” Then she was walking away.

“Okay,” said Mallory. “Let's go.” He looked around. “Where's Felina?”

“Right here,” said the cat-girl, emerging from a shadowy area between two buildings.

“What the hell were you doing there?”

“There was this cute, adorable little mouse,” she said. “He had soft brown eyes, and he looked so lonely that I went over to keep him company.” Another ladylike burp. “He's not lonely anymore.”

“I'm sure he appreciated it,” said Mallory dryly.

“You'd think he would,” she agreed, rubbing her stomach. “But he complained all the way down. Very crude language, too.” She frowned. “What's worse than an ungrateful mouse?”

“Let me take a shot in the dark,” said Mallory. “An ungrateful mouse with ketchup and mustard?”

Felina yowled with amusement. “That's a very funny answer, John Justin.”

“Thanks.”

“But you left out onions.”

“Mea culpa.”

“No, Bermuda.”

“I stand corrected,” said Mallory.

“So where are we going?” asked Jeeves.

“To someone who might be able to help us, once we plow through the usual bullshit.”

“I don't understand,” said the gremlin.

“You will,” said Mallory. “It's in the next block.”

They continued walking, and finally stopped in front of a large grocery store with a blinking neon sign proclaiming that it was Seymour Noodnik's Emporium.

“This is it?” asked Jeeves.

“That's right,” replied Mallory. He turned to Felina. “You leave the fish alone.”

“Why would I bother a fish?” she asked with an innocent feline smile.

“Beats the hell out of me,” answered Mallory as the three of them entered the store. It was filled with the normal staples, plus signs offering specials on candied dragonflies' wings, chocolate-covered gorgon claws, toasted gryphon tails, and Texas Mediumhorn flank steaks. “But next time I won't pull you back out.”

“Mallory, my friend!” cried a voice.

Mallory cast a sideways glance at Jeeves. “Here it comes,” he said softly.

“Got a special on blue jay teeth,” said Noodnik, approaching the detective's party wearing a blood-drenched apron over his clothes.

“Let me guess,” said Mallory, staring at the bloodstains. “You pulled them all out with a pliers.”

“That's my boy Mallory. Always good for a laugh.” Noodnik paused. “No, I used an electric hedge trimmer. Works faster.”

“I didn't know there was that much blood in a blue jay,” remarked Mallory.

“More than a turnip, less than a buffalo,” said Noodnik. “Speaking of buffalo, want to buy a filet of eight-legged buffalo?”

“There aren't any eight-legged buffalo.”

“Well, not for the last twenty minutes or so,” agreed Noodnik. “You here on a case?”

“In a way.”

“Got a lot of lewd women in it?”

“Nope.”

“Got
any
lewd women in it?” persisted Noodnik.

“Seems unlikely,” replied Mallory.

“Damn!” said Noodnik. “Here I was hoping you'd brighten my day.”

“You've already tortured a blue jay and a buffalo,” said Mallory. “How much brighter can it get?”

“You got a point,” agreed Noodnik. “Okay, down to business. What do you need to know? I can charge you five dollars an answer, or you can buy two ounces of powdered unicorn horn for the whole thing. Great aphrodisiac.”

“It is?” asked Jeeves, suddenly interested.

“Well, not if you're a unicorn,” qualified Noodnik.

“Seymour, no deals, no bargains,” said Mallory. “Just answer my questions, or I'll go across street to Honest Sam the Greengrocer's.”

“You'd do that to your oldest, closest friend?” demanded Noodnik.

“Of course not,” said Mallory. “But I'd do it to you.”

“All right,” growled Noodnik. “What do you want to know? And by the way, where's your cat-thing?”

Mallory realized that Felina was no longer standing next to him and quickly looked around, but he couldn't spot her. He suddenly became aware of a commotion at the back of the store. He walked toward the crowd that had gathered and soon saw Felina perched on the top shelf at the end of an aisle, a bag of catnip clutched to her bosom.

“Come on, lady,” said a store attendant. “You have to pay for it first!”

She hissed at him and began opening the bag. The attendant picked up a broom and started threatening her with the handle.

“Not smart,” muttered Mallory under his breath.

An instant later the broom was in Felina's hands, and she was swatting the attendant to the cheers of the shoppers.

“All right, that's enough,” said Mallory, stepping forward. “You,” he said to the attendant, “go take a ten-minute break.”

The attendant looked at Noodnik, who nodded his approval, and then he made a beeline for the front door.

“And
you
,” said Mallory, “hand me the broom and come down right now.”

“Maybe I will and maybe I won't,” said Felina.

“Fine. Maybe I'll feed you again someday and maybe I won't.”

She immediately hurled herself into the air, did a triple somersault, and landed right next to the detective.

“I forgive you, John Justin,” she said, purring and rubbing her hip against his.

“I can't tell you how relieved I am,” grated Mallory.

“You're paying for Sheldon's break time,” said Noodnik, approaching them.

“Right,” said Mallory. “Fate forefend that you should reward him for risking life and limb on behalf of your store.”

“I'm glad we see eye-to-eye on that,” said Noodnik. “As long as we're back here, can I sell you an apron? Only seventy-three dollars.”

“For an apron?” said Mallory. “What the hell's it made of?”

“Unborn denim.”

“I'll pass on that.”

“Okay, how about a pair of size fourteen triple-A galoshes with your name inscribed on them?”

“My name?”

“Well, if your friends call you Universal.”

“How about just answering my questions?”

“We'll get to that, but my function is to sell you.”

“We'll get to it now, or I'm going to get my answers from Honest Sam.”

“You really know how to hurt a guy,” complained Noodnik.

“Of course I do. I'm a trained detective. Now are you ready to answer?”

“All right,” said Noodnik. “But I'm writing you into the will in the morning.”

“
Into
the will?”

“So I can write you out of it in the afternoon.”

“Fine,” said Mallory. “Do you have any elephant-shaped chocolate marshmallow cookies?”

“No.”

“Do you know who does?”

“No. Now ask your questions.”

“I just did.”

“That was
it
?” said Noodnik. “This whole case hinges on chocolate marshmallow cookies?”

“Elephant-shaped ones.”

“You'll have to give me a little time to see who makes them and who sells them.”

“How much time?”

Noodnik shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a couple of hours.”

“I'll check back with you then,” said Mallory, turning and walking toward the door as Felina and Jeeves fell into step behind him.

“You
sure
this hasn't got anything to do with lewd women?” Noodnik called after him in plaintive tones.

“I'm sure.”

“No one's ever going to write your adventures up in a book,” predicted Noodnik.

As they reached the street, Mallory turned to Jeeves.

“Your boss keeps referring to Fluffy as a fire-breather,” he said. “Is she?”

“All dragons are.”

“There's no sense just standing around while we're waiting for Noodnik to do his homework or for Winnifred to hunt up some leads,” said Mallory. “Where would you take a stolen fire-breather where she couldn't burn her surroundings down?”

Suddenly Jeeves smiled. “I know just the place.”

C
HAPTER
5

7:40
PM
–8:47
PM

The gremlin led Mallory and Felina to the riverfront, then summoned a small launch.

“A
boat
?” exclaimed Mallory. “Where the hell are we going?”

“The one place a dragon can't do any harm,” answered Jeeves. “I should have thought of it immediately. Most of the major dragon farms are there.”

“Are
where
?”

“Why, Fire Island, of course,” replied the gremlin.

They boarded the launch and it soon headed off toward their destination. Felina leaned over the water and stared at it, motionless. After perhaps a minute her hand darted out and came away with a small, squirming fish.

“I hope you're not going to eat that thing raw,” said Mallory.

“Certainly not,” said Felina.

“Good.”

“I'm going to play with it first.”

“Not on this boat, you aren't,” said Mallory.

“You never let me have any fun,” she complained.

“Our definitions of fun vary considerably.”

“Not everyone likes movies of naked women,” said Felina.

“Shut up and toss it back,” said Mallory.

“Oh, all right,” she said, quickly biting off the head and tossing the rest of the fish into the water.

Jeeves uttered a plaintive whimper.

“It's just a fish,” said Mallory.

“It wasn't the fish,” responded the gremlin uneasily.

“You look like if you hadn't started the day green, you'd be turning green right about now,” remarked Mallory.

“I get seasick.”

“In a launch on a river?”

Jeeves seemed about to answer him. Then a look of panic crossed his face and he raced to the side of the boat and leaned out over the water.

“Don't worry about it,” said Mallory to the gremlin's heaving torso. “We'll talk later.”

The launch stopped at a dock a moment later, and the three passengers got out and were soon on dry land.

The first thing Mallory became aware of was the acrid scent of smoke that seemed somehow organic. The second thing was the earsplitting roars. The third was the shadow of a huge dragon flying directly overhead.

“I think they've got an escapee,” he said.

“No, it's just a training exercise,” replied Jeeves. “See? He's wearing a bridle, and there's a troll on his back.”

The dragon did a sudden loop-the-loop.

“He's going to lose his rider,” said Mallory.

“That's why they use trolls instead of anyone important,” said Jeeves.

“Like gremlins?” suggested Mallory.

“Precisely,” said Jeeves as the troll slipped off and began his long descent, screaming all the way until he hit the water. He surfaced a minute later, cursing a blue streak.

“You're the one who knows Fire Island,” said Mallory. “Where would you suggest we start looking for Fluffy?”

“She's so small and delicate we could look for months and never find her,” answered Jeeves. “I think we should question some likely suspects. After all, you're a detective. That's what you do for a living.”

“If all the dragons are as big as the one I just saw and the ones I can hear, there
aren't
any likely suspects,” said Mallory. “Any one of these creatures could step on Fluffy, or inhale her, and never know it.”

“Dragons come in all sizes,” noted Jeeves. “You'll seek out those people with facilities to keep toys and miniatures.”

“And where will I find them?”

Jeeves shrugged. “Somewhere on the island.”

“Are you always this helpful?” asked Mallory sardonically.

Felina sniffed the air. “
I
can lead you to a toy dragon, John Justin,” she said.

“Fine,” said Mallory. “Let's go.”

“For three canaries, a spotted owl, and a dolphin.”

“One glass of milk, next time we pass a place that serves it.”

“Okay, one glass of milk,” she said. “And a moose.”

“Don't push your luck.”

“A baby moose?”

“Forget it,” said Mallory, heading off to the island's interior.

Ninety pounds of feminine fur and sinew hurled itself onto the detective's back, sending him sprawling.

“I forgive you, John Justin!” purred Felina.

“Why am
I
so blessed?” muttered Mallory as he painfully picked himself up and began dusting himself off.

“That way,” said Felina, pointing down a winding dirt road.

Mallory headed off in the direction indicated, following by his two companions. The roars became louder, and he decided it was getting warmer. Suddenly they came upon a farm in which half a dozen dragons, each the size of a T. Rex, were frolicking in a pasture, playfully shooting streams of fire at one another.

“Can I help you?” asked a gray-haired man, walking over to them.

“I'm looking for a dragon,” said Mallory.

“You just found a whole batch of 'em, mister.”

“A particular dragon,” said the detective.

“Well, these here youngsters ain't so particular,” allowed the man. “They'll eat damned near anything.”

“I need a toy dragon.”

“Can't help you out. I just specialize in the big fellers.”

One of the dragons suddenly became aware of Mallory's group and trotted over to get a closer look.

“Is he dangerous?” asked Mallory.

“I suppose it depends on whether or not you're fireproof,” said the old man. He turned to the dragon. “C'mere and say hello.”

The dragon reached the fence and stretched his neck out over it.

“Let him smell the back of your hand,” said the old man.

Mallory held his hand out. The dragon took a deep sniff, and it was all the detective could do to keep his entire arm from being inhaled.

“Now you and Cuddles are friends,” said the old man.

“Cuddles?” repeated Mallory disbelievingly.

“Yeah,” said the old man admiringly. “Ain't he a sweetie?”

“I have to admit it's not the first word that would have come to mind,” said Mallory.

“Well, he's an adolescent now, but when he matures…”

“You mean he's going to get
bigger
?”

“Sure.”

“Where the hell do you show him? I don't think they could get him into Madison Round Garden, even through the truck entrance.”

“Not all dragons are for show,” explained the old man. “Some are bred for hunting, some for sport like knight baiting. Cuddles here was bred to fight off any jet plane attacks over Manhattan, the Bronx, and Lower South Brooklyn.”

“Sounds like a no-win situation to me,” remarked Mallory. “He may be awesome flesh and blood, but he's still just flesh and blood against a jet fighter plane.”

The old man smile. “He can melt a jet at two hundred yards.”

“And they can shoot him at, what, two miles?” said Mallory.

“Part of his training program here is to learn evasive maneuvering.”

“Isn't that his pilot's function?”

“They have a way of losing pilots,” said the old man, rubbing the dragon's nose.

“I noticed,” said Mallory dryly.

There was a sudden roar, and a sheet of flame shot out, singeing the dragon's hindquarters. It squealed in surprise while Mallory dove to the ground, then gingerly stuck his head up and looked around.

“What the hell was that?” he said.

“Oh, just Cutie-Pie,” said the old man, indicating another huge dragon. “She saw me petting Cuddles, and she's jealous.”

Mallory got to his feet. “Well, it's obvious the dragon I'm looking for isn't here. Is there a facility on the island that specializes in toy dragons?”

“Just down the road a stretch,” said the old man. “Maybe half a mile, keep to your left when it forks, and look for the asbestos-lined doghouses.”

“Thanks,” said Mallory. Suddenly he saw a flash of white in the distance. “What's that?” he asked.

“The guy in the white lab coat? He's from the DDI.”

“The DDI?” repeated Mallory.

“The Dragon Dietary Institute. He's testing some cockamamie theory that their diet gives them heartburn and that their flame is proof of it.”

“What do these big dragons eat?”

“Anything smaller than themselves,” replied the old man.

“With that broad a diet, it sounds like he's got a tough theory to prove.”

“Still, it keeps him employed. I know writers and actors who'd kill for a steady paycheck.”

“You can add detectives to the list,” said Mallory, heading off toward the toy dragon farm. He turned to Jeeves as they walked. “If she's here, are you sure you'll be able to spot her?”

“She is the most recognizable toy dragon in history,” the gremlin assured him.

Mallory looked ahead and saw the top of a farmhouse. “That must be it.”

“I suppose so,” said Jeeves.

Mallory grimaced. “We'll go through the motions, but I'll give plenty of ten-to-one that we're not going to find her here. This whole thing
feels
wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I were stealing the most valuable and recognizable dragon in the world, the last place I'd take her is to an island where everyone breeds dragons and can be expected to know who she is.”

“But they're uniquely equipped to keep her here,” noted Jeeves.

“They're not going to
keep
her anywhere,” replied Mallory.

“I don't understand.”

“She was kidnapped for one of two reasons: ransom or to set it up for some other animal to win the show tomorrow. She's been gone four hours, she's due in the ring tomorrow afternoon, and there hasn't been a ransom demand. Unless your boss gets a phone call soon, we have to assume she was kidnapped solely to keep her out of the show. If she's
that
recognizable, the thief can't pass her off as his own. There's a very easy way to make sure she misses the show and is never identified.”

“Hold your tongue!” cried the gremlin. “I won't hear such talk!”

“Your devotion is admirable,” said Mallory. “But it doesn't change the logic of the situation.”

“Fluffy's alive!” snapped Jeeves. “I can feel it!”

“I'll keep looking for her right up until ring time, but I thought you ought to understand what the odds are.”

“Speaking of odd…” said Feline, pointing up the road.

Fifty yards ahead of them six men, each with a toy dragon on a leash, paraded around in a large circle, while a seventh man, clearly acting as the judge, gave them a string of commands.

“A handling class for youngsters,” remarked Jeeves knowingly.

“How can you tell they're youngsters from this distance?” asked Mallory.

“Because they need a handling class,” answered the gremlin.

“Trot, dammit, don't fly!” yelled the judge as two of the dragons spread their wings and flew out to the ends of their leashes.

“All right, line 'em up and pose 'em,” said the judge, and the six dragons were maneuvered into a single straight row.

The judge walked up and down the line making comments. “Left forefoot's toeing out…Watch those wings…Moving his bowels—that's going to cost you points…I don't care if she
is
in heat, he's supposed to look at
me
, not
her
…”

Finally the judge leaned over to more closely inspect each dragon. The first wagged its scaly tail and jumped into his arms, the second backed away squealing in terror, the third was sound asleep, the fourth and fifth were in flagrante delicto. He came to the sixth, then yelped and jumped back.

“Shooting fire at the judge is a disqualification!” he screamed, rubbing his singed chin.

“You can't disqualify us,” protested the handler. “This is just a class, not a show.”

The judge put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, and a moment later four burly kennel attendants approached him. “I want that dragon deflamed and neutered,” he ordered.

“You can't do that!” yelled the handler.

The judge pointed to the handler. “Neuter
him
as well!”

The handler picked the dragon up in his arms and aimed him at the four approaching men. “Now!” he hissed, and a sheet of flame spurted out of the dragon's mouth.

“Don't just stand there!” demanded the judge as the attendants drew back. “Get them!”

“Maybe we could all just discuss it like gentlemen,” suggested one of the attendants.

“I'm sure we could resolve our differences over a friendly drink,” added a second.

“That's it!” bellowed the judge. “I'm having you
all
neutered!”

“Here's what Godzilla and I think of you and your orders!” snapped the handler. He unhooked the leash from the tiny dragon and pointed it at the judge, who took one look at the dragon's hate-filled little eyes, turned, and raced down the road. The dragon spread its wings and was soon in hot pursuit.

“I
like
training classes!” enthused Felina.

Suddenly everyone noticed Mallory's little party.

“Just passing through?” asked one of the attendants.

“Looking for a toy dragon, actually,” replied the detective.

“How much are you willing to spend?”

“I don't know,” said Mallory with a shrug. “How much is Fluffy worth?”

“You think
we
have Fluffy?” asked Godzilla's handler with a laugh.

“Beats me,” said Mallory, pulling her photograph out of his pocket and displaying it. “Do you?”

“Put it away,” said the handler. “You won't find a person on Fire Island who doesn't know what she looks like.” He waved a hand around the island. “Look to your heart's content. Check every run, every house. Let me know if you find her.”

“Perhaps you'll be kind enough to show us around,” said Mallory.

The handler nodded, and led Mallory, Jeeves, and Felina on a brief tour of the kennel and pens. There were bold dragons, seeking to terrify the visitors; hungry dragons, begging for small tidbits of food, living or dead; sweet dragons who only wanted to be praised and petted; and even a few cowardly dragons who hung back and refused to leave their asbestos houses, which looked exactly like dollhouses to Mallory's untutored eye. Many of the
dragons had companions kenneled with them to keep them happy and placid; they included goats, cats, gryphons, and a very unhappy-looking elf.