Shaw told his partner the one time they walked through the sculpture park that he found it a little disturbing, beginning with the fantastical, scrawny, rabbit-like creature that openly mocked Rodin’s The Thinker. There was a dark gray blob that looked like a rotting Mr. Potato Head, a stick figure titled Untitled that was frozen in mid-stretch, and then the scandalous Gymnast III that was clearly an enormous black erection.
“Red,” he remembered Phil saying, “you don’t know shit about art.”
“I’ve got eyes,” he’d said, “and a brain. I know a big dick when I see one sticking right up there between Grand and Locust where it shouldn’t be sticking.”
An excerpt from “Blood Solutions,” a Detective Red Shaw novel
Copyright 2015 B.J. Smith
The Smith Compound 
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