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mauve, with inexpensive store-bought framed prints on the walls and black curtains on the window. The place was very tidy. She seemed to be trying her best to make the shabby little apartment livable.

Jeff and Genghis walked back down the stairs. Trisha and Pimples were no longer sitting on the floor. No sign of them remained, not even a cigarette butt.

They exited the building. For being almost 3:30 in the morning there was still a lot of activity around the Compton Apartments. People were out milling about, and the sound of a television could be heard coming from one of the top floor apartments.

Genghis hopped over the door and into the passenger seat. Trent climbed in and started the engine. “She seems to be a good kid,” Genghis said. “Just a bad situation.”

“Yes, I guess so,” Trent responded. He glanced over and looked at Genghis. Even in the form of a Doberman Pinscher he could still see the look in his partner's eyes. He had seen that look before on many occasions. “You know, you can’t save every wayward girl.”

“What?” Genghis said looking back at Trent. “No! I was just thinking that she’s just had a tough life, that’s all. And maybe we could . . .” Genghis’s ears shot straight up. Jeff heard the sirens too.

They got back to Anderson Road. Red and blue flashing lights were lighting up the night sky and throwing oddly shaped shadows against the sides of buildings. Fire engines, police cars, and other emergency vehicles were parked haphazardly throughout the road. There was a group of bystanders behind police barricades watching the firefighters as they attempted to put out the three-alarm fire. Trent stopped the Thunderbird three blocks down, as they couldn’t get any closer. The building that was ablaze was one of the three they had under surveillance.

“Son of a bitch!” Genghis muttered, just as the front wall of the building on the right collapsed into the structure with a plume of smoke, dust and flames.

The bystanders cheered.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next morning, Jeff got up and found Genghis sitting on the floor, back against the seat of the couch. He was on the computer at the coffee table accessing the police department's computer network. “I made some coffee,” Genghis said, not looking up from the computer. “Kind of difficult to do without opposable thumbs you know.” He put a paw in the air and waved it up and down at the wrist. “But I managed.”

Jeff walked into the kitchen, picked up his “World’s Number One Dad” mug and poured himself a healthy amount, then took it into the living room and sat on the couch next to his partner. He put his mug down next to Genghis’s “Death Before Disco” mug, reached for the remote control, and turned on the television.

“Hey, I think I might have something.” Genghis said, while angling the computer so Jeff could see. “Something I realized earlier this morning. Human police procedures and our own are very similar. You know how we will record the crowd at a crime scene, hoping that the perpetrator will be there admiring his or her work?”

Jeff was taking a sip of coffee as he found the local news where an attractive brunette was standing in front of the charred remains of the building that they had been watching. “Okay, go on.”

“Well, the humans do the same thing,” Genghis said. “They even have something they call a facial recognition program. Very similar to our Full Body Scanning system. So, I accessed several police recordings of the arson fires, plus news recordings. I took them all and filtered them through the FBS system. And I found one particular human male who was in the crowd at every single fire.” He hit a button and the computer screen divided into several scenes showing different recordings of groups of people. The backgrounds and time of day were all different. He hit another button and all the scenes started to zoom in to one particular man in the crowd. The close-up shots were out of focus for about two seconds until the computer automatically digitized and enhanced. What they saw on the computer was a pudgy man with fat cheeks and one eyebrow that stretched across dark eyes.

They both stared at the several different shots. Genghis looked at Trent. “Could this be our Colus Valda?”

“Perhaps,” Trent said, studying the photos. “Let's assume it is. Go ahead and print out hard copies of those stills.”

Genghis pushed a stack of photos over toward him, “Done!”

Trent flipped through the pictures. “Now, you mentioned this facial recognition program that the local police force has. Have they come to the same conclusion?”

“No, it’s very similar to our Full Body Scanning system,” the Doberman replied. “Very antiquated, though! What it does is it takes an image and matches that face to a known database in their library of photos of people that have been arrested. This man is not in their system. I checked. But it uses the same principle. It analyzes the facial features, the size and shape of the head, distance between the eyes and other features, then matches them to the database. Now look at this.” Genghis made a couple of adjustments on the computer screen and it started to cycle through different video camera feeds. “They have several surveillance cameras located throughout Old Town, almost one on every corner. I’m taking all those feeds and sending them through the FBS. If our buddy Valda, assuming this man is him, walks in front of one of their cameras, it will alert us and give us his location.” Genghis turned toward Trent. “All in real time.”

“Brilliant, Mister Khan. I knew there was a reason why I brought you along on this mission.”

“Oh! Hold on there, Mister Trent. I volunteered for this mission just as you did. We were sitting side by side when the mission was presented to us.”

Ignoring his partner, Trent continued. “A computer savvy talking human Canine with,” he

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