Big Trouble

"Sure sounds like it," said Seitz. "I mean, we been wrong before on this, but I tend to believe old Ivan was telling the truth."

"Me, too," said Greer. "He definitely did not wanna get his other shoe ventilated. That's it there, 238 Garbanzo, on the ... What happened to the gate?"

"Somebody left in a hurry," said Seitz.

"Goin' where, I wonder," said Greer.

"Let's hope somebody inside can help us with that," said Seitz.

Walter was crouched in a pile of shattered glass, struggling to right the entertainment unit. He was getting no help from Arthur, who was still prone on the other side, moaning and rubbing his burning face with his free hand.

"Come ON," Walter said, shaking the shelving. "Get UP."

"My face!" moaned Arthur. "It got my face!"

"Well, whatever it is," said Walter, "we can get you some help if we get this thing ... "

"GET AWAY!" Arthur screamed. "OHMIGOD GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Arthur was screaming at Roger, who was a few feet in front of him, enthusiastically snorking up a few pieces of kibble that had flown out of his dish when Arthur's face landed in it. Hearing the screams, Roger glanced up for a moment and wagged his tail to let Arthur know that he would be over to say hi just as soon as he had completed the important work at hand.

"For chrissakes," said Walter. "It's a dog. It's your dog."

Arthur turned to Walter, his face contorted by terror. "Can't you SEE?" he said. "You can't SEE her?"

"See what?" asked Walter. "What're you talking about?"

"HER!" said Arthur. "It's HER!!"

"Who?" asked Walter.

"THAT WOMAN!" said Arthur, pointing at the happily wagging Roger. "The one with the guy, you know ... Bob Dole! His wife!"

Walter looked at Arthur, then at Roger, then back at Arthur. He said, "You think that's Elizabeth Dole?"

"YES!" said Arthur. "IT'S HER!" He was looking right at her, and she was definitely Elizabeth Dole, a woman he had always found vaguely scary, right in front of him, on his patio. But at the same time she was not Elizabeth Dole. She had Elizabeth Dole's face and highly disciplined hair, but her eyes were glowing red malevolent orbs, and she had huge, sharp teeth. Also she was eating kibble. Arthur knew—he knew—that she was a demon form of Elizabeth Dole, and she was here to take his soul.

"GO AWAY!" Arthur screamed at the demon Elizabeth Dole. She stared back at him, her eyes glowing, her demon tail wagging. She opened her fanged mouth and spoke to him, spoke his name in a terrible voice.

"Herk!" said Elizabeth Dole. "Herk! Herk!"

"NO!" said Arthur, jerking violently on his handcuffed arm, trying to crawl backward. "NO!"

"STOP IT!" said Walter. "That's a DOG, goddammit!" But he got no response from Arthur, who was staring at Roger, whimpering. He had also started foaming from the mouth. Walter, realizing that he was not going to get any help, grabbed the entertainment unit and started to lift it, and with it Arthur at the other end. Grunting, he raised it a foot, only to drop it again when he heard the voice behind him.

"You OK there, officer?"

Walter twisted around and saw two men, one tall and one short, both wearing suits, standing in the gaping hole that had been the sliding door.

"Who're you?" he asked.

The tall one flipped open a badge wallet.

"FBI," he said. "My name is Agent Pat Greer. This is Alan Seitz."

"Thank God," said Walter. "Listen, I need you to ... "

"We're looking for an Arthur Herk," said Greer.

"That's him over there," said Walter, pointing toward Arthur. "But listen, I need you to ... "

"Not now," said Greer.

"But my partner is ... "

"I said not now," said Greer.

Walter almost lost it at that point, but he decided that, what with him being handcuffed, and this being an FBI agent, he'd shut up for the moment.

Greer moved over to Arthur, who was still staring at Roger, who, having snorked up the last subatomic particles of kibble, was reverently licking the place on the patio where it had once been.

"Mr. Herk," said Greer.

Arthur slowly turned his head to look at Greer. His pupils were the size of dimes.

"Mr. Herk," said Greer, "I'm with the FBI, and I need you to tell me where the suitcase is."

Arthur opened his mouth, releasing a streamer of foamy drool, which dribbled down onto his collar.

"Mr. Herk," said Greer, "did you hear me? This is very important."

Arthur slowly closed his mouth, then opened it again and said, "She wants my soul. Don't let her take my soul."

"Don't let who take your soul?" asked Greer.

"Her," said Arthur, pointing at Roger. Roger wagged his tail.

"The dog r asked Greer.

"He thinks the dog is Elizabeth Dole," explained Walter.

"Jesus," said Greer, rubbing his face. To Seitz, he said, "Whaddya think?"

Seitz peered into Herk's deranged eyes. "He's gone," he said, "and I don't think he's coming back anytime soon."

Greer said to Walter, "Listen, we have reason to believe that Mr. Herk had a suitcase, probably made out of metal, very heavy. Did you see that suitcase?"

Walter thought for a moment. "Yeah," he said, "they had a suitcase. They took it."