Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Vol. 60, No. 1. Whole No. 344, July 1972

Rookie Cop by Avram Davidson{© 1972 by Avram Davidson.}

People running on the streets of New York is not that common a sight — hurrying, yes, pushing, shouldering, elbowing, yes. But running, and being pursued by others running — that’s still enough to catch a bystander’s attention...

Three of them were running ahead and two were running behind. People running aren’t that common on the streets of New York, but anyway it was really the woman who first caught my eye. Everything about her said “rich suburbanite who doesn’t have to worry about looking like the latest fashion” — everything, that is, except her mouth. It was a nice-looking mouth, but it didn’t go with the rest of her.

For example, it didn’t go with her sensible low-heel shoes, without which she certainly wouldn’t have been able to run at that speed. And then — not to make too much of my eye for detail, though that’s good, it has to be in my business — the fact is, I would have kept on looking anyway. And so would you if you saw two men and a woman running fast, and right behind them two other men running — one of them a cop and the other one yelling, “Stop thief!”

So I decided to follow and see what would happen.

It was the young cop’s scene, so I took my time.

He had them braced, palms up and flat against a wall, by the time I caught up. The fellow who’d been yelling “Stop thief!” was standing back and wiping his face. He looked like a middle-aged businessman, which is what he turned out to be. The young cop half turned his head to look at me, and I could see that not only was his face blank, his mind had evidently gone blank, too.

I opened my hand and showed him the shield, and right away his face changed and started waking up again.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” he said.

“Leary, Third Precinct,” I said. “All right, move along now,” I snapped to the rubbernecks. Maybe it doesn’t take much to collect a crowd in New York, but it usually doesn’t take much to break one up, either. Because they’ve seen it all.

“You’re new,” I said to the cop.

“My first day.”

It showed. More than the new uniform, his first day out of rookie costume showed. He clearly couldn’t remember what to do next. I gave a little sigh and showed him. First I frisked all three, taking just a little extra time with the woman. A pleasure. She even said, “Oh, please.” I almost looked around for the movie cameras. Then I said to the young cop, “Okay. Now you’d better handcuff them together.”

Which he did. Not exactly deftly — “No, the two men together,” I had to tell him.

The woman said, “Oh, thank you,” and even started to walk away; maybe she thought it was my first day, too. I said, “Get back there,” and she did, but frying out a look on me. Real anguish, tears in the eyes — but that mouth just didn’t fit. It was the mouth of a woman who had been around. All the way around.

Next I gave “Stop thief!” some attention. “Who’re you?” I asked.

He stopped wiping his face and jumped. Then he said, “The jewelry store — comer of Eighty-third — Brody’s the name. They come in, the three of them come in and say, ‘Let’s see some bracelets.’ No — he and she come in, the other one was already—”

This could go on forever. I said, “Let’s have your card, Mr. Brody... Okay. We’ll get in touch with you when we—”

“Yes! Yes! I better get right back, just my son is there and he don’t—”

A gentle shove to Mr. Brody and off he went. Not relieved, just went. Who knows if by the time he got back, maybe the store had really been robbed or maybe the son had taken off and gone to California to be a hippie or something.

“All right, officer, now let’s see who they are.” And now let’s see if his mind had started working again the way it should.

It had. He got their wallets and opened them and looked and then handed them to me. Not a word out of either; they were already calling their lawyers in their minds. The woman started leaning against me a little, but I gave her a gentle shove, too. Then I looked at the names on the cards. As you might expect, there were quite a few names and cards, credit and otherwise. And not just cards and credit, either.

I shrugged. “No one I know. Not that it matters. Okay, I’ll go phone for a wagon. What’s your name, officer?”

“Boberick, sir.”

Then I looked at the woman. “My day off. No cuffs with me. No bracelets for the lady? Okay, lady. Let’s go.” I took hold of her elbow. Then I turned back to the new cop.

“And don’t worry about this, Boberick. Everyone’s got to have a first time, right?”.

A little bit ashamed, a whole lot relieved, and a great big grin. “Right. Yes, sir. And thanks a lot.”

“Let’s go, lady,” I said again. And off we went.

I was right about her, too. She’d been around all right. All around. It was thanks to her that those two in the handcuffs had all those high-denomination bills in their wallets. All that I’d had in my wallet was that shield I’d picked up a while back. Lots of ideas, that woman. Lots of fun, too. After she and I finish with Sun Valley I think we’ll move on to Lake Tahoe.

Or maybe Acapulco. Plenty of suckers. All around.