Tough Day for the Army by John Warner Read Free Book Online Page B

bulletin ended, the monkey underlined the last bit of his entry and snapped the notebook shut before turning to face me.
    â€œI want to prepare you for a couple of things,” he said, a replica of concern crossing his simian face. “Thing the first is that it’s possible, nay, probable, check that, definite, that Constance has already moved on from the relationship.”
    â€œAnd the second?”
    â€œThe second is that you may be a suspect in Giuseppe’s death, given that your thumbprint is on his throat and he did indeed die of strangulation.”
    I started to speak, but the monkey placed his long, bony finger across my lips.
    â€œShe is a beauty, for sure, but she is not right for you.” He took his finger from my lips and poked the roll of flab at my waist. “Look at this,” he said. “Should she be subjected to that? And this,” he said, turning me to face the hall mirror. “Seriously, it’s important that you stick to your own kind, your own level.”
    â€œI didn’t kill Giuseppe,” I said.
    â€œThat’s good,” he said. “Go with that. Very convincing. Now, let’s go clear your name.”
    â€œWhy do you care?”
    â€œI am but a simple monkey who exists to serve my humankind brethren as I have done for all my days, but also, from your wallet, I noticed that you are a midlevel supervisor at a shipping company, which will come in handy when it’s time for you to express your gratitude for not going to jail for the rest of your life. Now, let’s get going, because any second the cops are going to show up and ask questions you can’t answer, which is going to make you look really suspicious, and if you’re locked up, you’re never going to be able to prove yourself innocent.”
    â€œBut I am innocent,” I told the monkey.
    â€œDon’t overdo it,” the monkey said. “It’ll get stale.” The monkey hitched his thumbs under his rainbow suspenders and hoisted his cutoffs above his jutting hip bones. “And leave the creature here,” he said, pointing at the dog. “I don’t know how you can stand the smell.”
    As I pulled my coat off the rack, the monkey clambered up my leg to the top of the stand and grabbed a baseball hat that he jammed onto my head and low over my eyes. “We don’t need anyone recognizing you,” he said.
    I opened the door and the monkey craned his head through the opening for a couple seconds. “Follow,” he said.
    And I did. What can I say? He was a very persuasive monkey.
    In the car, driving the tollway, I scanned for police heading the other way. The monkey sat boosted on the hatbox and fingered the cheap plastic beads dangling from the review, baubles showered on Constance for flashing her breasts at a street fair.
    â€œThese are nice,” the monkey said before letting go the beads and placing his paw on my leg.
    I never particularly liked displaying them there, given how they were procured, but Constance insisted, saying I shouldn’t be jealous since I was the only one who got to do more than just look.
    Or not, if this monkey was right.
    As we approached the tollbooth, I fished in the ashtray for the appropriate change, but the monkey grabbed my hand, then stood briefly and from the hatbox pulled a metal slug with a string tied through the hole. I rolled down the window, the monkey fired the slug into the basket, waited momentarily, then yo-yoed the slug back into his paw.
    The light flashed green, the toll gate rose, and the monkey gave me a look that said, “What are you waiting for?”
    We pulled slowly through. I looked around, but nobody said a word. We accelerated back to speed.
    This monkey was creeping me out. He was obviously some kind of con monkey, but on the other hand, he’d been right about more than a couple of things. I’d never been entirely sure that Constance felt about me the way