THE local police were uncooperative. It was, as the precinct lieutenant pointed out, none of their business.
“Sure, we’d like to help you, captain,” he said. “But how can we? Where’s the crime? Who is making the complaint? Why should we pull in this Joe Leghorn when he’s done nothing wrong?” He gestured around the precinct station. “Hell, captain, don’t you think we’re busy enough as it is?”
It was an understatement. The local police were more than just busy; they were run off their feet. Even as Sam had waited for his interview with the lieutenant three chow-hounds had been brought in, all of them the worse for wear. The food thieves had tried to rob a hydroponic farm on the edge of town, had shot and killed the manager when discovered and had tried to run. Their car had crashed a few b
