I CAUGHT A glimpse of the man I was chasing. He turned to the right, down an easement behind a row of
single-story houses. The sky was a dirty gray with clouds hanging low. The cold air burned my lungs as I tried to
close the distance between us. The only solace I had was that this guy didn’t seem like he was dressed to hide
outside. At least not for very long.
Once I made it onto the easement, I could see ahead for at least ten houses. There was no one visible in any
direction. That meant this idiot had turned in between two houses. I ran to a cluster of smaller houses and turned to
my right. Then I slid to a stop in the icy, dead grass. The canvas book bag the man had been carrying was lying on
the ground. I looked in every direction and saw no one. I went down on one knee and picked it up, handling it
gingerly. I didn’t think it was dangerous, given the casual way the man had carried it. Just as I was about to unsnap
the bag and open the flap to look inside, the man I’d been chasing st epped back into view.
At first I thought he was holding a toy pistol. It was blue and snazzy like a fake space weapon. Then I realized it was
some sort of remote control, like for a radio-controlled car. As he sort of pointed it at me, I wondered what he was
up to.
The man said, “You’re holding a bomb. A powerful bomb. If I pull the trigger on this remote, it’ll spread you all
over the yards of these houses.”
My insides turned to ice. I’d seen too many examples of what an explosion did to the human body. At this moment,
those images were not serving me well at all. I started to say something.
The man shut me up. “I don’t want to hear any of your lies. I know who you are and who you work for.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“You’re Detective Michael Bennett. NYPD.”
I nodded my head. “I stand corrected. You know exactly who I am. That means you know what could happen to you
if this bomb goes off.”
“Probably about the same thing that would happen to me anyway. You cops are always harassing guys like me. You
never want to cut us any slack.
Why should we cut you any slack?”
“Have we ever met?”
The man didn’t answer. He was clearly nervous. His eyes k ept shifting from side to side and he twisted around to
look behind him about every twenty seconds. I could see the remote in his hand jiggling from nerves.
I said, “I don’t recall ever harassing you. But if you refresh my memory, maybe we can work something out.” My
hope was that I could put the guy at ease long enough for some help to show up. The problem with that theory was
that no one who could really help knew where we were. Even if Maggie had been able to call it in, I realized I might
be talking to this guy for a long time.
“Stand up,” the man commanded.
I attempted to leave the bomb on the ground at first, but he told me to ke ep it in both of my hands. I didn’t have
much of a choice. I was trying to project a feeling of calm. A lot easier said than done. Especially with the image in
my mind of the bomb blowing me to pieces. I was probably shaking as badly as the guy with the remote in his hand.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Let’s just say I’m a friend of Pry’s.”
“I could’ve figured that out on my own. What can I call you?”
The man screwed up his face and looked at me. “Why don’t I hand you my driver’s license? Or maybe you’d like
me to write up a search warrant for you. Typical cop, looking for ways to harass the little guy while the big
criminals are free to do whatever they want.”
I said, “I agree with you to a point. I think there are a lot of people who break the law, then use their influence and
money to get away with it. But that’s more of a judicial issue than a law-enforcement issue. Maybe we could talk
about it.”
“I’m done talking to you. I don’t mind killing a cop for the cause.”
At least I knew exactly where I stood with this guy.