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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2022347
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Detective · #2022347
Well now that's just silly.
Sid Selesky, a small, thin rat of a man, sat in a wooden chair, clutching his fedora tight to his chest.  He didn’t understand why, after all these times of providing information to the cops, he still needed to go through the whole process of being escorted into a dark, cramped room and being interrogated.  It seemed rather pointless to him, was all.

As Sid fidgeted with his hat, the door burst open, and he shielded his eyes from the sudden light.  ”Geeze, give a guy a warnin’ next time, will ya fellas?” he asked, rubbing the bursting spots away with his eyes.  ”So, who’s good cop an’ who’s bad cop this time?”

“Just me, you sod,” said Officer Rouse, rubbing his hard jawline and contemplating Sid’s slight frame.  ”The rest of the boys are busy with more important things tonight.”

“Of course they are…” muttered Sid, shifting his eyes away from Rouse.  ”Listen, yer district ain’t the only one I gotta cover fer tonight, so let’s make it quick, alright?”

“Man after my own heart,” said Rouse, glaring at Sid and pushing himself up against the wall.  ”So, you say you can give us some clues to the guy? The one who’s been bursting through doors all over town?”

“Yeah, that guy.  Might wanna tell me what you already know.  Y’know, just so I don’t go repeating stuff you already know an’ wasting yer time.”  Rouse looked ready to wallop Sid, as he had many times in the past, but restrained himself for the sake of information.

“About three weeks ago,” he started, monologuing in a slightly irritated tone, “we receive reports of a rash of break-ins down in the ghetto.  Nobody can ever get a good look at the guy, and from all the reports that were filed, nobody ever reported him stealing anything.  This goes on for a few nights, we keep chasing the guy, but we can’t tell if there’s any pattern to his break-ins.  All we know is that he always breaks down the door, and that he’s moved into some of the more well-off neighborhoods.”

Sid nodded, pushing a hand through his straggly hair.  ”So there’s some strong incentive to catch the guy at this point, yeah?”

“No shit,” mumbled Rouse, “It could cost a few of us a career.  You have anything to contribute, or did you just come here for story time?”

“Nah, nah,” Sid said, waving his hands, “I got something to add.  See, if yer talking ‘bout the guy I think yer talking ‘bout, then you’re looking fer Jason Walhout.  Guy started making moves ‘round my neck of the woods about… six, seven months ago.  Started gathering up folks to do the weirdest stuff fer him.  Going ‘round an’ checking out stuff like what sort of stuff people’s doors are made out of, how thick they are, what they sound like when you knock on ‘em.  Just strange stuff.”

“So he’s been planning the break-ins for quite some time?” asked Rouse, adjusting his hat slightly.

“Oh yeah.  Course, he said that he’s got much bigger goals than break-ins.”

“What?”  Officer Rouse stepped away from the wall, and bent down to Sid’s level.

“Turns out that he was planning the order of the break-ins months ahead of time.  I never worked fer him, but I’ve got this buddy who did.  Worked over in the Maccurtian District, checking out the doors of some of the city’s really snooty bigwigs.  I bumped inta the guy the other night, and took him out to Sal’s fer drinks.  So while we’re there, he slips me a note - probably didn’t mean to, poor guy just can’t handle the hard stuff - showing me what Walhout’s plans are.”

“And?” asked Rouse, pushing in even closer.

“Get this: The guy’s got all the doors in the city mapped out, from weakest to strongest.  He goes around, busting through them with his whole body, an’ running away before anyone can catch him.  He’s doing something like building up his strength, till he can break down the strongest door of ‘em all.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, the guy intends to rob the Hines Bank by smashing through the vault door with his body.”

“Officer Rouse stood back up, pressing his hands into his face.  ”Please tell me you’re not on meth again, Sid…”

“I’ve been clean fer four months, Officer,” Sid said, riffling through his pockets.  ”Look, I know it sounds nuts, but it’s what the guy means to do.  I don’t think he really can do it, but I’ve heard the guy can smash down a six inch mahogany door just by throwing himself at it.  It’s just nuts.”  He pulled out a small piece of paper, and handed it to Rouse.  ”There’s a guy down the street who he should be hitting at around eight tonight.  Just wait for him there, an’ you’re bound to catch him.”

“Through the vault, I don’t believe it…”

“Officer, can I go now?” Sid asked, rising out of his chair.  ”I’ve gotta tell the guys on the other side of town ‘bout the guy who’s been planning to kill the mayor by systematically jumping off of high things.”

“Why are the criminals in this town so freaking insane?” Rouse asked himself, moving aside to let Sid go.

“Because've that sting operation two years back goin' sour,” Sit snarked, walking out the door.  ”See ya, Officer.”

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