The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (ebook reader 7 inch txt) π
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- Author: Raymond Klein
Read book online Β«The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (ebook reader 7 inch txt) πΒ». Author - Raymond Klein
Trent turned on the D30 detection unit and made adjustments to accommodate the search. He held the D30 straight out in front of him like a marksman taking aim at a target. Then slowly he started to turn his body in a 360 degree circle. Listening to the distinctive tone the detection unit emitted, he continued to scan the building. The pitch of the tone changed when he pointed it toward the far left corner of the building. He bent his elbow to get a better view of the small computer screen on the top of the D30, then said, βThatβs where the fire originated.β
They made their way through the premade path in the debris to the far left corner. βYeah, it started here alright,β Genghis said. βLook at the burn pattern and how the concrete slab cracked under the high temperature of the accelerant.β
βYes,β Trent said. βNow let's find out what exactly this unknown accelerant is.β He made another adjustment on the D30 and pointed it down toward the scorch mark. It made three sharp beeps then went silent. Trent read the computer screen. βCalbenite!β
That was all they needed.
They both walked back to the center of the building. Trent picked up the duffle bag and placed the detection unit back into it. Neither one said anything as they exited the Griffon building and walked back to the cruiser.
The workers one block down were on break. Two sat in the doorway talking and laughing with three others sitting on the tailgate of the truck. A couple of them glanced over and watched as the fire investigator and his scent dog climbed into a vintage car and drove away.
Chapter Nineteen
It was a little before eleven in the morning. As they drove South on Eighth Street they watched the shoppers go back and forth, in and out of little antique and consignment shops.
βYou know,β Genghis said, while rubbing his belly with his front paw, βIβm getting a little hungry. You want to go back to Daveβs or maybe that guy with the cart attached to his vehicle?β
Trent slowed the Thunderbird and pulled into a parking spot. βWhy not try this place?β He put the cruiser into park and turned off the engine. Trent had parked in front of a French restaurant. Le Pot Au Feu was in a building that took up almost the entire block and was shaped in an βL.β The front double mahogany doors faced Eighth Street, while the outdoor seating with white wrought iron tables and chairs faced Third Avenue. The restaurant had just opened for the day and was not crowded, as business on a Saturday didnβt start hopping until around 1 pm.
βAre you sure Iβm allowed in there?β Genghis asked.
βWell of course! Why wouldnβt you be?β
Jeff and Genghis entered the establishment and stepped into a small foyer. It had elegant period wallpaper with rich mahogany crown molding and wainscoting. There were framed photographs dating back to the early 1900s, showing rows of workers sitting at long wooden tables. They walked forward and into the main dining area. The dining area had low lighting and was as elegant as the foyer. Smells from the kitchen permeated the room. There was a small maitre dβ station also of mahogany and elaborately carved.
The host and hostess standing behind it looked up as Jeff and Genghis entered. All the servers were dressed similarly. They wore black sneakers, black trousers, and a white dress shirt with a tie of their choosing. The hostess said, βHi, welcome to Le Pot Au Feu.β She glanced down at Genghis. βAh, may we help you?β
βYes,β Trent happily said, while looking around with a big grin on his face. βWe would like to dine in your fine establishment.β
The hostess shared a glance with the host standing next to her, βIβm sorry sir, but dogs arenβt allowed in the dining area.β
Just then Genghis sneezed loudly, which sounded a little like, βTold yah!β
The hostess, a little puzzled, looked down at the dog.
βWhat do you mean?β Trent asked. βHeβs tame. Donβt be alarmed at his size, heβs very gentle.β
βWell, yes,β she replied, βthat might be, but we donβt allow dogs. Unless, of course heβs a service dog.β She paused looking at Genghis then back to Trent, βIs he?β
βIs he, what?β
βA service dog?β
βAh! . . . a service dog?β
βYes! . . . is he? . . . A service dog?β
βAh,β Jeff looked down at his partner, who was scowling back up at him. βAh, no. I donβt think so.β
βWell, Iβm sorry sir,β she politely said. βBut youβre more than welcome to sit in our outdoor dining area.β She motioned to the large glass window overlooking the al fresco seating area. βWe get a lot of people out there who like to bring their dogs.β
Jeff grinned and said, βThat'll be hip!β
The host slightly rolled his eyes, picked up a leather bound menu, walked Jeff and Genghis to the glass door that was framed in mahogany, and led them outside. The floor of the patio area was a red brick, laid in a herringbone pattern. The outside walls of the building were covered in a lush ivy that was slowly creeping up toward the second story windows. The perimeter of the patio was surrounded with a red brick wall four feet in height, topped with elegant rod iron black fencing. There were several large ornate pots with sprawling plants with large green palms stretching out in all directions.
The host seated Trent at one of the ten small bistro sets, then opened and handed him the menu saying, βOur special today is Poulet Marie Therese, chicken breast in a peppercorn and garlic sauce served with mixed vegetables. Jerry, your server, will be with you shortly. May I
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