The Invisible Hand - A crime novel

Chapter 8

"Your ugly name is Sid Burt Dot. You robbed a bank in north Minneapolis earlier today. We've got you on camera with your two buddies. Remember them?" the female officer says.

Sid gets the feeling she knows the rest already.

"Yeah, I remember them," he says.

"Where'd they go, Sid? Are they inside the rest stop using the bathroom?"

Sid rubs his neck. "You know they're not. You want me to get out of the car now?"

The officer looks back at the squad car. The male officer inside lowers the newspaper. Gives a nod. She nods back.

Sid watches them. Chews another fingernail.

"Two questions for you," the officer says. "Are you armed?"

"No. Some hood stuck me up. Took my gun," Sid says.

"Oh, that's too bad. You get a good look at him?" the officer says.

"It was a guy in a hoodie. That's all I know," Sid says.

The officer pulls a plastic baggie from her pocket. It's a Colt Detective Special, a snub-nosed .38 revolver. There's a certain irony in that name.

"This look familiar?" she says.

The shock damn near melts Sid. The officer allows herself a smile.

"How did you...you got the guy who did it?" Sid says. "I swear that was a guy. It wasn't no female. Not you."

"Not me? Lay off the sauce, Sid. It helps with clarity," the officer says. "Me, I saw everything. Your face when I got the upper hand on you. Took your gun. Hit you a few times before you ran off. You looked like you knew you were going to die. Shocked. Desperate. Priceless. You're a joke."

"But...you're a cop. You can't do those things," Sid says. Unless she's not a cop? He's shaking now.

"You would've stood a better chance against me if your buddies were still alive. Maybe you shouldn't have killed them after you robbed that bank," the officer says. "And then maybe you should've walked instead of stealing a shitty car. Then you wouldn't be broken down at this rest stop. Or is it easier for you to steal shitty cars from poor northsiders who can't afford working locks? Lazy ass."

Now she's swearing? Sid's adrenaline has nowhere to go. It bottlenecks in his temples. Floods his head with pressure. Makes his jaw pulsate with the nervous rattle of bone on bone.

"But...but...," Sid says.

"But is right. But it's your gun. I stole it from you. Stealing is wrong," the officer says. She opens the bag. Holds the revolver by the barrel so the grips face Sid. "Here. Take it back."

Sid starts for the revolver. Hesitates.

"Go on. Take it," the officer says.

Sid's pink hand wraps around the revolver's grip. He follows his first instinct. Pulls the trigger.

Snap.

The officer's body doesn't flinch. Of course the revolver isn't loaded.

"Uh oh. You just committed a big no-no. You can't go around trying to shoot peace officers," she says. "And here I thought I'd give you a break. Give you your gun back. I tried, Sid. Remember that."

"I...uh...," Sid says. He can't help but start to cry.

The officer lets go of the revolver. Allows Sid to keep it between his bloody fingers.

"Oh, shut up," the officer says. "I have to arrest you now. Stay seated, please. I need to see how drunk you are first."

Sid closes his eyes. Tries to hide the tears. Puts on a brave face.

"I take it you've used a breathalyzer before," the officer says. "You know what to do."

Sid feels a cold tube press against his lips. He keeps his eyes closed. Gives it a blow. No use in fighting it.

Funny. This one tastes like...

Metal?

Sid's head pops like a Coke can in a microwave.

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This story will only be posted on Wattpad for a limited time. If you'd like the full version, head to your favorite online e-book/book retailer and pick up your own digital/print copy. Search for "Invisible Hand Sobieck." Or leave a review of the book on Amazon once you're finished reading on Wattpad. Thank you. ~Ben