Play dead

FIFTY-SIX

Swann sat on the curb. He calmed himself. As a boy he had been in chains many times.

He reached over with his left hand, slid over the back of his watch, removed the thin steel needle. Nearby, the girl sat crying in the back of the patrol car. A very nervous young officer leaned against the trunk.

Swann rocked gently to one side, then the other. "Officer, I'm afraid you've gotten these cuffs on far too tightly. I'm losing the feeling in both my arms."

At first the officer pretended not to hear him.

"Officer?"

The young man looked up the alleyway, then reluctantly walked over, unsnapping his holster. "If you try anything, I swear to God I will mace you in the face. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Roll onto your knees and stand up."

In one graceful move Swann rose. He dropped the handcuffs to the ground, then pulled the officer's weapon out of its holster. He leveled it at the young man's head.

"Don't!" the officer screamed. "Oh God Jesus don't." He closed his eyes, waiting for the click, the pain, the dark.

"Cuff yourself to the front wheel. Do it now."

The young man grabbed the cuffs, did as he was told. The girl in the back seat began to cry. Swann took the handcuff keys from the officer's belt, then took a few steps away. He ejected the magazine from the weapon, racked the slide. Empty now. He threw the magazine and keys as far as he could. He leaned close to the young man's ear. "I'm sorry for all this. I would never have hurt you."

He held up the weapon. "You will find this in a sewer on Castor Avenue."

Swann smoothed his clothing. He grabbed his bag from the backseat of the black car, walked up the alley, and was gone.