Tucking my dress under to sit, I looked at my assistant. “I’m not sure if this is the right idea, Stace.” George would say. I just rolled my eyes. Never before had I been paired with such a nervous wreck. Over a hundred successful cases, and he became so nervous…about a robber? I was just about to turn and explain how what I assumed was the outcome, but the bells clanging against the diner’s door stopped me.
I turned away, as did George. “That’s him. D’Wade Melanos, locked up three times, got out quickly for good behavior, but this will certainly be his last.” I whispered and looked over at the man who sat quietly. His head was down and the felt brim of his hat just covered his eyes. “He’s a smart one. Escaped other pairs like us ten times in the past two months.” Looking carefully at George, I studied his eyes. So much fear for a man who had done this hundreds of times; and with the amount of preparation we had put into this case, I was certain we had him. “Hmm… No car?” he said in his Boston accent.
“Yup.” I looked back and forth around the bar. “That’s how he rolls. Not a trace of evidence left.” George nodded his head and looked around.
“You’d think a guy like him would know better. Sure, he’s smart, but you’d think he’d choose a more discreet bar without all these windows.” Phillies Diner was lined with glass, stretching from floor to ceiling. Nothing like any tourist or bypasser had seen before, the team and I called it the “Fish tank”. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. Across the street, an abandoned storefront. It’s the only empty one left on Main Street Tourists buzzed around, while thieves lurked in the dark alleys that squeezed between the towering buildings.
“There.” I pointed out, through the glass.“This morning, on my break…” An old register, full, sat in the window, ready for its next theft.
“Ahh, I should’ve known this was your plan,” George smirked.
We sat there in silence and ordered drinks. I waited, waited, then waited some more. Tick tock…tick tock. My stopwatch continued; seconds seemed like minutes, and George was becoming impatient, as was I. But we never let our guard down. Any second now… I thought. Finally, it was clear. Back and forth, back and forth; Dwade looked between his coffee and the register until he slid cash towards the soda jerk. My eyes met George’s.
“Keep the change.” George winked at the waiter. We moved casually, but quickly. The diner door was already shutting behind D’Wade. We made our way out but didn’t continue in his way. He looked around, back at us, and continued towards the storefront. George pulled a toothpick out of his back pocket, and I grabbed The Weekly, we had to blend in.
“Let’s move.” I motioned towards the register and back at George. But it was too late, Melanos was already busy picking the lock with a screwdriver. “Shoot. Plan B George, Plan B!” I hollered, in a frantic whisper. We hurried to the entrance, peering behind pillars, and ready to pounce. It was hard to make out his words or actions however, when the street fell silent, we knew he would be exiting any second. We waited, and waited, and waited some more. Complete silence. “Brace yourself…” A group of curious pedestrians had gathered around, the pressure was on. Then suddenly, a small, shadowy, figure in the distance climbed down the fire escape ladder of the pawnshop, three blocks down. I began a full-out sprint, avoiding cars, and pedestrians, my eyes straight forward.
“Ma’am! Ma’am,” a nearby woman called out to me.
“452, we’ve got a flee running west towards downtown. I need backup.” I tucked my walkie-talkie into my back pocket. I was out of breath, and Melanos was becoming smaller and smaller as he ran farther and farther down the street. I looked at the woman who clutched where her purse would be. “That-that man! He took my-” She was in shock, and could barely finish her sentence. Melanos. The woman was in no critical condition. I nodded toward her and continued the chase. I had only made it two more blocks when I came to my senses.
“No! We lost him, George! We lost him!” I cried out. No response. Then, all of a sudden, the tapping of shoes across the asphalt roared past me. George. He was never one to go after a flee, let alone sprint after one. He tended to check on everybody else, and maybe even call for help. I, however, never let one go. Ever.
In amazement, I followed. “Head south!” he called out, already two blocks away and keeping a steady pace. “I’ll head north, meet at Stephens Street Alley!” I skidded to a stop, and the sound of a bus horn stopped me. I was in the middle of an intersection. The roaring of car horns squawked through the air, and I felt myself fall into a heavy, fast breath. Snap out of it Stacey! I thought to myself. Avoiding casualties, I continued the chase, landing in an alleyway. I stood quiet. Any second now- the rustling of footsteps and tripping came from the back door of a storefront. The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it. “We’ve got you now Melanos!” I kept my hand in my back pocket, and my grip firm when I realized D’Wade was doing the same.
“Alright..” He smirked and turned around, attempting to keep this chase going. To his surprise, George was standing there calmly, whistling.
“Oh, hey there, D’Wade! Funny seeing you here.” I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. He was good at his job. Real good. Turning around, D’Wade was cuffed. I patted George on the back. Then, D’Wade began un-cuffing himself and clapping. “Great job team!” George and I looked at each other.
“Now..for the real test.”