Buckular Dystrophy by Joseph Heywood

Author:Joseph Heywood
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781493018871
Publisher: Lyons Press

CHAPTER 27

Spread Eagle, Wisconsin

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18

Wisconsin Warden Kelly de Jardins de Richelieu met them in the parking lot, still looking half asleep. “Jesus, don’t you Michigan people sleep?”

Service said, “Not during deer season.”

“Mine doesn’t start for a week,” the Wisconsin warden said.

Said Service, “No, yours has already started, Kell; you just don’t know it yet.”

The taxidermist was located on US 2/41, a huge, colorful sign announcing “Finning-Feather Memories Forever.” The place was less than seven miles from the Michigan border. It was a standard commercial critterstuffer’s shop inside—black bear on a pedestal in one corner, several walls with whole fish, mostly walleyes and northerns. And there were birds and deer, half of them European mounts, bare skulls cleansed of flesh by insects. Nice heads, but neither significant nor eye-catching.

Allerdyce followed the two uniformed men into the shop.

“Teller here?” Service asked the man at the counter. He had blond hair, a bright red beard, and a crooked smile. He stood all of five-six, counting his unruly mop of hair.

“That’s me and I’m here, so I guess I’m in. Yo, Kelly. You’re out and about early.”

“Tell me about it,” the Wisconsin warden mumbled.

Red beard looked back to Service. “S’up?”

“You did a mount for a customer by the name of Noble Chern.”

“We have privacy laws in Wisconsin.”

Rocket growled. “Goddammit, just tell the man, Jumbo. It’s too damn early for stupid-ass games.”

“Yup, a twelve-point. Nice buck; scored 177, I think I recall.”

“Chern’s name on the tag?”

“Lemme look. My memory ain’t that good no more.” The man pulled a battered blue-gray ledger from under the counter, opened it, and leafed his way through. “No, he just brought it in. Tag goes back to an H. Hill Jr. over in Randville.”

“That was oh seven?”

“Yes, but the work din’t get done till last year on account Chern didn’t have sufficient funds. I let him pay it off in installments. He’s only had the mount a couple of months.”

“You also do a thirteen-point for him last season?”

“No; he brought that one in, and I had the antlers out back in my shop until last night. He’d only paid me eighty bucks against seven fifty for a full shoulder mount, but he came by last night and took the antlers back, said he was going to make other arrangements.”

“He mention where he shot the thirteen?”

“Not exactly, but I got the sense it was close to where he shot the twelve.”

“A Wisconsin deer?” the Rocket asked.

“No, I think it was over in Michigan. Like I said.”

“You see the tag on the thirteen?”

“Said he lost it dragging it out. You know, his bum leg and all.”

The Wisconsin warden said, “Jesus, Jumbo, you know the rules.”

“Course I know the rules, but this guy’s a good customer, and a good guy. He’s a war hero. I don’t shit on our country’s veterans.”

Service took over. “He buy other stuff from you, stuff customers never picked up?”

“Has from time to time. That’s not illegal. Was a time when he said he was flush with some sort of insurance payout and he spent like crazy back then.

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