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L.A.P.D. HEADQUARTERS'
PARKER PLACE, LOS ANGELES, CAL.
MAY 20, 2009 (12:10 P.M./PST)
* * * * *

LORI DILLINGER'S P.O.V.

I looked at my wristwatch, for what felt like the millionth time, then looked at my partner's digital desk clock for comparison. And, I finally had to admit it:

"Our witness is now more than two hours late. Which makes her an official no-show! Let's go, Paco."

"Material witness bust?" he asked, standing up and putting his sport jacket back on.

I nodded. Just as I had finished donning my blazer, however, my desk phone rang.

"Dillinger," I said, identifying myself.

I listened for a minute. And, I noticed Paco's eyebrows arching in imitation of my own.

"We'll be right over!"

"Change in plans?" Paco asked, as we ran to our assigned car.

"That was the L.A. County Sheriff. There's been some kind of disturbance over at Cal-Tech. And, now, two women are missing. One of them, our tardy witness!"

Fifteen minutes later, we showed our badges to one of the deputy sheriffs guarding the crime scene.

"What do you have for us?"

"Not much, so far," he admitted: "Mostly ear witness accounts of shouting; furniture smashing; and what might or might not have been a gunshot. Reports of the latter are contradictory, at best. All we do know, for certain, is that the two women who were in this office are gone. And, the receptionist swears neither one of them exited past him!"

"Was one of those women Caucasian. With auburn hair and green eyes?"

The deputy sheriff checked his little black notebook.

"Yep! The other woman works here; a biophysicist named Hana Nozama."

"Mind if we take her visitor's personal effects with us? Or, are your crime-scene guys still processing?"

"No, they're through. So, you've been cleared."

"Thanks."

As it turns out, there wasn't much to bring back to Parker Place where Melissa Belmondo was concerned. Just her Cal-Tech visitor's badge; her purse; and--most interesting of all--a .44 magnum Terminator snubnose revolver. All three of which Paco put in separate transparent plastic bags.

When we got back to our desks at HQ, Paco had a unie* take the gun to ballistics to see if it had been fired. Meanwhile, I emptied out the contents of Ms. Belmondo's purse. And, at first glance, every single item appeared to be the same kind of stuff every other woman (me, included) carries around in her purse. At second glance, I found one thing unusual; a four inch-tall male action figure wearing red cover-alls.

"Heh!" I couldn't help muttering out loud, to myself: "I would've thought this gal a little too old for playing with dolls."

"Hey! I resemble that remark."

To this day, I don't know which of was more stunned when that little guy sat up, and started imitating Curly Howard of the Three Stooges. But, I do know that I was the one who recovered first! Whereupon, I grabbed up this doll man in my right hand, and ran for the nearest single-toilet women's room. Paco was right behind me. And, when we got to one that fit the bill, I ordered him to stand guard outside it.

"OK!" I declared (after putting him down on the sink): "I admit I'm a little freaked out. But, I know I'm not hallucinating. Because, my partner saw you sit up and speak, as well! So, what are you? Some kind of mini-android that missing doctor invented? Is that why she and my material witness are missing?"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! Slow down, there, Detective Sgt. Dillinger. First, let me introduce myself. My name is Ned Fogarty. And, I work for a top-secret government agency that specializes in fighting a new kind of terrorism. Bio-miniaturization! English translation? Plain old shrinking. And, I'm one of the human guinea pigs who went to work for that agency after being rescued by them."

I shook my head, still not quite able to believe it. And, I said as much! To which this Ned Fogarty replied:

"If you want confirmation, why not use your cellphone to call the number I'm about to give you. The operator who answers will identify the business address as 'American Fidelity Insurance.' Naturally, that's just the cover. When she asks you who you want to speak to, you reply: 'Thomas Thumbkin, Esq.' "

I followed his instructions to the letter. Though, very nervously. Even so, what the little guy predicted would happen...did happen.

"Hello?" said a baritone voice into my left ear.

"This is Sergeant Lori Dillinger; LAPD (Robbery/Homicide). Who am I speaking to, please?"

"Myron Meriwether; Director of Operations for M.A.C.H.O. And, Mr. Fogarty works for me, sergeant."

tbc
Chapter End Notes:
*Unie: American police detective slang for uniformed officers.
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