The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission Raymond Klein (read out loud books .TXT) 📖

gestured with his coffee mug, “great coffee-making skills. Yes, yes, you are quite the asset, Mister Khan!”

“Oh, I am quite the asset, Mister Trent,” Genghis played back. This was something they used to do on occasion during long stakeouts, just to break up the monotony. “I can run faster than you, my senses are much more acute than yours, and to top it off, you're pissed because you didn’t think of it first.”

“Oh, on the contrary, my fine furry friend,” Jeff said, while taking a sip of coffee and keeping his eyes on the television. “I was thinking of this exact scenario yesterday and was going to bring it to your attention this very a.m.”

“You are so full of excrement, Mister Trent!”

Just then something on the news caught their attention. The story of the arson fire was over and the news moved on to another story about a bank robbery. The anchor, a well-groomed man in a tailored suit was in the middle of describing the story. “. . . The brazen robber entered The Old Town First National Bank yesterday afternoon a little after one o’clock. He then ordered everyone in the bank to the ground. Several bank customers complied, but some refused, saying later that his weapon looked so futuristic and fake that they thought it was a training drill of some kind. That is, until he fired it into the ceiling.

“Bank officials said that the robber was calm and methodical in the way he cleaned out the tills, spending just under five minutes in the bank, and making off with over three thousand dollars. Bank officials also can not explain why the silent alarm system did not alert local police or why all surveillance recording of the robbery strangely stopped recording one minute before the robber entered the bank and resumed recording two minutes after he left.”

“An Electronic Pulse Interrupter,” Jeff replied.

“There was one on the inventory list of 964 that we couldn’t locate. Obviously, this particular inmate took possession of it.”

“Excellent!” Trent said. “We now have a lead on another inmate. Why don’t we take a drive?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Old Town First National Bank was on the corner of Main Street and Third Avenue. Jeff pulled into the parking lot to the left of the building. This was one of the newer buildings in Old Town, purposely constructed to appear to have been built in the earlier 1920's as to keep with the original architectural design of the town. The bank was of a red brick construction three stories tall with large windows framed with black shutters.

Genghis jumped over the door and met Jeff as he stepped out of the Thunderbird. They both walked up the granite steps to the double glass doors that were set between two large white stone pillars. The bank was open for business as if nothing had happened. The small rectangular vestibule with its shiny white marble floors led to the carpeted round lobby. The long teller station curved with the room and was located toward the far end of the lobby. A small group of patrons was queued between black velvet ropes, waiting to be called. On the back wall behind the tellers, the large chrome door of the vault was open as it normally was during business hours. Desks and small windowed offices lined the left and right of the lobby.

Jeff Trent and Genghis Khan entered the lobby and started to survey the surroundings. Jeff looked up and saw the bullet hole in the ceiling.

“Excuse me, sir.” Jeff looked to his left, where a security guard behind a desk was slowly getting up. “Excuse me,” the guard said. “I’m sorry sir, but you can’t bring that dog in here. Dogs aren’t allowed and he’s not even leashed.” He looked down at Genghis, then back to Jeff. “Unless he’s a service dog? Is he? A service dog?”

Sitting back in the cruiser, Genghis said, “Not a service dog!” Then in a mocking tone, “Then he’ll have to wait in the car, sir.” He looked at Trent. “Why not the next time just say yes! And let's see what happens. How am I supposed to investigate a crime scene if I’m not even allowed to enter a building?”

“Yes, I agree,” Trent said. “We’ll have to research and figure out what exactly a service dog is.” He looked over to Genghis. “Did you see the impact hole in the ceiling?”

“Yeah!” Genghis said. “An A-56 Auto Loader. He’s definitely one of ours.”

“Yes, I’m thinking most likely it’s Bollar. He did have a penchant for armed robberies.”

“And collecting fingers,” Genghis added.

Trent started the engine, pulled out of the Old Town First National Bank’s parking lot, and headed back to their apartment. They stopped and picked up four hot dogs from the hot dog vendor they had met on their first day in Old Town. Jeff backed the cruiser into the garage, and he and Genghis climbed the backstairs and entered their apartment. Trent put on a pot of coffee, and Genghis sat on the floor with his back against the couch and switched on his computer.

“Okay! Let’s say it is Bollar, and we know from the news broadcast that he set the Electronic Pulse Interrupter to disrupt the electronics of the security cameras and alarm system one minute before he entered and resumed operations two minutes after he left.” Genghis made a few adjustments on the computer and started to access the Old Town surveillance cameras that were located in the vicinity of the bank. There were only three, two of which were several blocks away from the bank. Genghis started to view the recordings while Trent brought in two mugs of coffee. He placed the “Death Before Disco” mug on the coffee table next to Genghis’s computer and sat on the couch with his own mug. He picked up the remote and turned on the television.

After forty-five minutes, Genghis threw in the towel. “Nothing!” he said, with a mouth full of hot