The Van Nuys Motel 6 collected corpses the way a cheap bar collects regrets—quietly, without ceremony. So the badges dragged their heels. But when Jonny and Boris heard the name of the stiff over the police radio, something cold crawled up their spines. Gomer Pyle. Marine Corps. One of their own.
John Law was still absent when they arrived, but it didn’t matter because since the death took place in a hotel, it was under the jurisdiction of the Hotel Dick. At the Van Nuys Motel 6, that meant Dutch Winsett, a man Jonny and Boris knew too well. They all went to detective school together and while Jonny and Boris graduated with honors at the top of the class and became legendary shamuses, Winsett came in dead last and landed here, king of mildew and broken vending machines. When they walked into the crime scene to see Gomer hanging by his belt around his throat from the ceiling fan, the scowl on his face when they walked in said he remembered every ranking on that final scoreboard.
“Well, well,” Dutch sneered. “Van Nuys’ favorite miracle workers. Hate to disappoint you, but there’s no grand conspiracy. Pyle checked in alone, got bored, got experimental. Breath-control play gone wrong. Case closed.”
He lifted two pieces of evidence like a magician revealing cheap props—a bottle of Jergens lotion and a box of Kleenex Ultra-Soft.
“Wait a minute,” said Boris. “You think that Gomer was playing with his pud using LOTION? When we did circle jerks in ‘Nam, he’d douse his wang in Hellfire Hot Sauce from his hometown in Mayberry.”
“And Kleenex ULTRA-SOFT?” said Jonny. “He’d call you a pussy if you cleaned up with anything less than sandpaper.”
Boris hopped onto the nightstand, nose twitching as if sniffing out a lie. “This wasn’t an accident,” he said quietly. “Someone staged this.”
Jonny’s trench coat flared as he turned toward the door. “Only three hitters in Van Nuys could make a murder look this pathetic.”
“Give us twenty-four hours,” Boris called over his shoulder. “We’ll drag your killer into the lobby ourselves.”
The door slammed behind them just as the distant wail of sirens finally crept into the parking lot. Tears welled in Dutch’s eyes at the realization that Jonny and Boris had once again made a fool of him…but he swore that THEY would be the fools in the last chapter.