“Come out calmly, with your hands in the air,” I said, even though I didn’t expect the guy inside to actually listen to me, he didn’t. There were some things that they made us say even when it wouldn’t do any good. That was one of them. I mean it wasn’t like I was good at talking anyway, that wasn’t part of the job really. I was part of the kidnap squad of the city’s police force and most of the communication that went through my hands was either police reports or ransom notes, in both cases they were generally poorly written. Neither job, cop nor gangster, required a lot of literacy. I have to admit that most of the time I liked reading the ransom notes more, some of them were amazingly creative and it was always a challenge to think of ways to get around the conditions they would place on the delivery of the ransom money. I don’t want to make it seem like I was on the kidnappers side, ever, I hate kidnapping passionately but police reports have a form behind them that gangsters don’t have to follow.
“I don’t want to have to shoot,” I said, and I was telling the truth. Every time I opened fire I got an earful from the chief about alarming neighborhoods. There was also always the risk that I would accidentally shoot the kidnapped victim which would be a public relations nightmare.
I waited for some noise from inside the apartment I was facing but all was silent. Someone had responded to my knock a few minutes before so I knew I wasn’t on a wild goose chase but I wasn’t getting anywhere talking to someone who wouldn’t respond anyway. This was the only lead I had had on the kidnappers the whole week and I wasn’t about to let anything get in my way. I kept my gun in one hand as I tried the door handle with the other. The officers behind me tensed, ready to shoot if anyone tried to take my head off.
The room was empty, with a window at the far end of the hall open onto the fire escape. I swore, I hadn’t checked out the house enough, I hadn’t considered back ways that needed watching as well. Not that I had enough men to watch all of them even if I had thought of it. It wouldn’t change the fact that I was going to get a earful when I got back to headquarters. I could see a car pull out of the garage below me but I couldn’t shoot, I had no idea if the victim was in the car and while I was an amazing shot I couldn’t risk a stray bullet. All it would take was one and I could have the blood of an innocent on my hands.
“I got the license plate number,” said the man next to me. He was my second in command and as close to a friend as I had but I was in a foul mood and in no mood to have anyone talk to me. I whirled on him.
“What good do you think that will do George?” I snapped. “They’ll have changed them within three miles as likely as not. We’ve lost them.”
“Yes, sir,” said George, slipping the paper with the license number to a police officer next to him. It would be spread through the city police within the hour I was sure, even in my anger, George would see to it that it was looked for, just in case. He was meticulous while I was reckless, the perfect balance to my personality.
To be continued...
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