The two patrol vehicles, half patrol and half prisoner transport van, stopped close to the café that Wiski Lewes had chosen to frequent. With satisfaction, Senior Patrolman Loci ion Dempster, noted that Lewes was sitting in his accustomed seat, in a position where he could view all persons while he entertained his accustomed audience. Good, he thought, now we will have all the witnesses that the inspector wants.
Heaving himself out of his vehicle, Dempster was a large man, he waved to the other three patrolman following him. “Let’s go do our job,” he said, bringing grunts of acknowledgement from the other patrolmen.
Moving in pairs, the four sauntered up to the café, ignoring looks of dislike that were thrown at them from the students listening to Wiski Lewes. The second pair held back while Dempster and his partner moved to the far side of Lewes table.
“Good morning, Master Lewes. I have a couple of questions for you regarding your travel pass. You don’t mind, do you?”
Giving the patrolman a suspicious look, Lewes replied that his pass was in order and that he was having a private conversation with colleagues. Did not the Ti Lepus patrol have better things to do then harass innocent civilians?
“Oh, we have many better things to do, Master Lewes. But here, now, this is what I am doing. Your pass, please?” Dempster held out his hand, looking steadily into Lewes’s eyes.
“I don’t have it on me. I can get it later, if you insist,” Lewes’s gave a dismissive wave of his hand to go along with his dismissive look.
“Really? Don’t have it on you? That’s an administrative offence, Lewes. But surely, you are mistaken. Wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to check?” The large senior patrolman didn’t smile as he spoke.
Lewes made no move, but glared at the patrolman. He was used to dealing with the patrol and realised that, for some reason, they were insisting on a minor breach, and he knew that his travel documents were not in order. What he did not understand was why the patrol was after him? His cover was perfect, wasn’t it?
One of the onlookers, a young male student, nettled at the great man’s treatment, started to stand up and opened his mouth to speak. A hand descended on his shoulder. A quiet voice froze him, “Sit down. You don’t want to be involved in this, boy.” He settled back into his seat, cowed by the authority in the voice. Two young women, enticed by others into joining the group, now became frightened and held each other’s hands. Observing their fear, another patrolman moved over to them and in a quiet voice told them that they could leave. They left quickly.
Senior Patrolman Loci ion Dempster remained unmoved, holding his hand steadily out. His gaze fixed on Lewes’s face and ignoring the byplay. The other three were highly experienced and had been selected for that reason. They had even turned down promotions in the past in order to remain uniformed patrolman.
Slowly, Lewes reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. The three other patrolmen immediately tensed, hands moving gently to their powered weapons, Dempster did not move. His hand remained out, palm upward.
Slowly pulling his wallet out Lewes dropped it on the table.
Lowering his hand and looking down at the wallet, Dempster nodded. “Your documents are in the wallet?”
“They are.”
“I may open your wallet and inspect the contents?”
Lewes nodded.
“Please answer, yes or no.” Dempster spoke with a sharp edge to his voice.
Lewes gritted his teeth. He knew that all these activities were being automatically recorded, this was for evidence gathering and also protection of both the patrol and those that they dealt with. And he realised that they had not made a single misstep so far. He racked his brains for a way out. “You may examine my wallet.”
The patrolman made no move to touch it. “And its contents?”
“And its contents!” Lewes almost spat out his reply.
Without a smile or display of any emotion, Dempster opened the wallet. First noting the identification. “Wiski ot Lewes,” he noted. The remaining witnesses looked surprised at the low service class designation. The scowl on Lewes face grew deeper. Dempster kept looking, taking his time, but finally pulling out the travel pass. Laying these on the table, he compared them with the identification card and tattooed bar code. The implant would be left for later.
“I see that the name on the pass is different from that of your official documentation Master Lewes. Also, the barcode identification has been changed. These are serious offences. I am afraid that you will have to come with us.”
“Come with you? I don’t think so!”
“Really, you don’t want to add resisting a command from a patrol officer now do you? Or incite these young lads to resist us as well? That would not look good on a list of charges before a judge now.” Loci ion Dempster smiled. “In any case, these other two patrolman are going to interview all these witnesses as to what they saw happened here. Surely, you want them to be available for you later?” As he spoke he gathered the documents and wallet together.
Lewes glanced at the remaining students. He had only worked on the students, preaching his distorted views of racial purity, during his short time in Welette. He was planning to start working on the rest of the population, but had not had the time. This one look showed that he had been out maneuvered. The second pair of patrolmen had already separated the students and started speaking to them, breaking the group up. Suddenly, he realised that this whole episode had been well planned and a blind rage consumed him. Coming to his feet, he raised both hands intending to strike the hated patrolman.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Striking a patrolmen is now a death penalty offence Lewes. Don’t do it.” The warning penetrated Lewes mind slowly. At a wave of Dempster’s hand, his partner took his hand off his stun gun. It was standard practice for one patrolman to carry a stun gun, while the other carried a deadly pulse gun. They always worked in pairs whenever possible. As Lewes was now calmer, the patrolman pulled out hand restraints and fastened the writer’s hands behind his back.
Dempster smiled, the first emotion that he had allowed himself to show. “Formal charges will be enumerated later, but they may include fraud by using unauthorised documents, using said documents to obtain illegal travel documents and making fraudulent statements to government officials. Do you understand these charges?” As he talked, he guided the writer through the tables and out to the street, his partner right behind.
“I deny any and all of them,” Lewes said, glaring at the patrolman.
“I did not ask if you agreed with or denied these charges. I asked if you understood them.” Loci ion Dempster gave a somewhat theatrical sigh. “Please answer.”
“Yes.” With another glance behind him, Lewes saw that the group that just a short while ago was hanging on his every word, was now surrounding the two patrolmen and cooperating fully.
“You basticka, you!” The insult just brought a smile to the patrolman’s lips while his eyes remained cold and hard.
“You call that an insult? A well respected writer like you? I am disappointed. If you really try, I am sure that you could do better.”
Lewes suddenly realised that they were at the police vehicle and that his last chance at creating a scene was fast disappearing. Swinging his head around he looked to see if anyone was watching. While there were many people around, most were ignoring them or simply indifferent.
“Come now, remember the changes to the code the scrutineers have made. Don’t make things worse for yourself.” Dempster cautioned the writer.
With a sigh of defeat, Lewes slumped onto a cold metal seat. There he was fastened safely into position for transport. Closing and locking the door from the interior the two patrolmen moved through another door to the front, locking that door behind them.
Grinning at each other, the two settled into their seats. “Let’s go.” Dempster’s partner had the vehicle moving.
Dempster keyed his comm unit. “Base. This is Senior Patrolman Dempster. We are inbound to base. Have Wiski Lewes in custody.”
“Base copies. Lewes in custody and in transit to base.”
“Dempster. Please advise Deputy Inspector Docci.”
“Base copies. Will inform Deputy Inspector Docci.”
*********
At patrol headquarters, Deputy Inspector Docci was meeting with Detective Jan ot Reppa and Rennie Hanster, the local Accuser, who was a young but experienced man of high status. Dempster had forwarded copies of the Lewes documents and well as details of the irregularities in same. The three were delighted.
“Great work. Under arrest and our hand is not tipped. We have him.” Docci spoke for the three of them.
“Yes, I know Senior Patrolman Dempster. His work is always very tight and gives whoever he deals with very little chance. But I have been in touch with some of my colleagues who have dealt with these writers in the past. They are slippery and are able to get good repliers. We cannot underestimate them.” The Accuser was being cautious as well as delighted.
“We want to get them all if possible, one by one. They are causing a lot of trouble and we don’t want that. I don’t like outlanders, none of us do, but even less do I like trouble makers who seem to be deliberately inciting the people which could cause riots. No we won’t underestimate them.” Docci was deliberate in his speech and emphasis. The Accuser was relieved and understood that, behind the police in this investigation was the government. This was coming from high in the Ministry, and while that was reassuring, it also meant that his career was on the line. But that did not worry him, he was happy where he was.
“Let us deal with Mr. Lewes now.” Docci said decisively, and straightened up.
*********
Characteristically, Wiski Lewes was uncooperative, denying everything, demanding access to a replier or to be let go if there were no formal charges coming. At the last, the Inspector smiled and replied. “Oh yes Lewes, charges will be forthcoming, are you so eager to see and hear them?”
“I am interested to hear what garbage you will be bringing before a judge.” Lewes sniffed.
“Nothing as interesting as garbage, just the truth. Here are the charges.” Docci offered his comm unit which was brushed aside.
“I refuse to accept them, give them to my replier.”
“But you claimed to be a replier. Claimed it for all the students that were arrested.”
“Ha that was just to help them!”
That admission was music to Docci’s ears. The fool was actually admitting that he had made a false representation as a replier to the patrol. The courts would not like that!
“I see, so do you have a replier?”
“Yes, in Lepus Mal, he will represent me there.”
“But we are in Welette, the case will be tried here.”
Lewes was confused. “I don’t understand. You’re from the capital. Aren’t you going to take me there?”
“No, the crimes were committed here. Here you will face trial and judgement. We just came down to assist the local patrol.” Docci stood and motioned to the door, which slid open as he approached it.
“Wait! We can discuss the charges. Perhaps there can be some accommodation.”
Pausing at the door, Docci permitted himself an inner smile that he was careful not to show. “The case is in the hands of the accuser and the hearing will be tomorrow, in the afternoon. All of you will face the justice of the courts. You will be appearing before Master Judge Radmar Pollotic.” The name meant nothing to Lewes. As Docci left the cell, he turned again. “Oh you will meet your replier there. I understand that he found your antics … interesting.” The cell door slide shut and there was a soft hiss as locking bolts slide into place.
Lewes slumped on his bed as the reality of his situation began to sink in.