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“Alice! That thing will have eaten her alive! Oh, you have to send a squad car to take me home. Alice might still be alive if we hurry.”

“Oh, go on home, Victor.”

“But, Chief!”

“Go! Now!”

And Victor went, though without much conviction.

“I’ll talk to the Mayor,” said Chase. “I’ll tell him this is no way to treat a loyal police officer like Dolores.”

“Are you sure? He might decide to kick you off the force right then and there.”

“Let him try.”

The door flew open again, and this time the Chief’s mother burst in.

“I just had the best idea ever!” she announced.

“Ma, can’t you see I’m in a meeting?”

She ignored him and sat down next to Chase.“You’re going to start fining people who let their dogs do their business on the sidewalk. Step one. Then you’re going to announce your candidacy for mayor. Step two. And finally, once you’re mayor of this fine town of ours, you’re going to start campaigning for governor. And then, finally, for president! And I’ll be there every step of the way, don’t you worry, son. I’ll be your campaign manager. I know exactly how it works. I’ve seen it on TV.”

“Ma, how many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want to be mayor. I like being chief. And tell me something, how is fining dog owners going to help me become mayor?”

“Simple math! Thirty percent of the people in this town are cat owners, right?”

“If you say so.”

“Thirty percent are dog owners, and thirty percent got no pets. That means sixty percent of the people have to suffer because thirty percent refuse to pick up after their dogs. So if you go after the dog people hard, those other sixty percent are gonna be so grateful they’re gonna vote you intotown hall. See? Math!”

“You left out ten percent of the population,” said Chase.

“Oh, don’t let’s split hairs,” said Vesta.

“Not so simple, Ma,” said Alec. “First off, like Chase already indicated, I’m not so sure about your numbers, and second, most people clean up after their dogs. It’s only a very small minority that doesn’t. And to go after those people all heavy-handed is not the way I like to do thingsas chief. You know that.”

“Well, you should. People love the Dirty Harry approach, not that namby-pamby community policing business. They want you to go in hard. Bust some heads and rattle some cages. You need to arrest those jaypoopers and you’ll be mayor in no time!”

“I’m not going to arrest people for not picking up after their dogs, Ma.”

“Look, you’re going to run for mayor and I’m going to be your campaign manager. And don’t argue with me, Alec Lip! I’m your mother and a mother knows!” And with these words she stalked out again, leaving the Chief to bang his head against the desk.

“What did I ever do to deserve this, Chase? What?!”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean it, Chief.”

“Oh, yes, she does. Her campaign has already begun, and with the Mayor gunning for me, this is not going to improve my chances of staying in this chair for much longer.”

“Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll talk to the Mayor and you talk to your mother. We’ll fix this.”

But the Chief was not to be consoled.

Chapter 7

Marge walked into the library feeling like she’d forgotten something. And as she entered and closed the door behind her, she suddenly heard a loud banging sound. She smiled and headed to the staircase that led into the basement. Someone was working hard.

There were racks and racks of books and old files in the basement, and the banging sounds continued as she made her way in their direction. And then, as she reached the back wall, she suddenly remembered what it was she’d forgotten.

“Oh, you guys, I’m so sorry but I completely forgot,” she said as she addressed the two men hard at work there.

They both looked up, startled. Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale were two ex-convicts who’d recently been granted a lighter sentence. Instead of spending the remainder of their time inside, they’d been allowed to do community service instead.

So Marge had magnanimously agreed when their probation officer had asked if there was any chance they’d be able to work at the library to fulfill the terms of their service.

She wanted to have the basement redone, starting with the back wall, which was suffering from an acute case of mold and rot and needed to be torn out and rebuilt.

“I said I’d bake you a cake and I completely forgot,” she said.

“Oh, that’s all right, Mrs. P,” said Jerry, a smallish man with a face like a ferret.

“No cake?” asked Johnny, his partner in crime. He was a very large man with a perpetually dumb look on his large, square mug.

“I’ll bake you one tonight,” said Marge. “I promise. I had this sudden urge to clean out the attic this morning, and totally forgot about your cake.”

“Don’t sweat it, Mrs. P,” said Jerry. “Tomorrow is fine.”

She studied the wall with interest.“And? Have you discovered the source of that rot?”

“Nah, not yet,” said Jerry, who looked a little jumpy, Marge thought. “But we’re getting there, isn’t that right, Johnny?”

“Oh, sure, we’re getting there, Mrs. P,” said Johnny.

“Marge, please,” she said.