Detective

bullets.”
    Leroy looked at me curiously. “Might I inquire,” he said, “what you intend to do with a gun and no ammunition?”
    I shook my head. “Believe me, Leroy, you don’t want to know.”

26.
    R ED H IT T OWN AT T HREE in the morning, just as he’d done before. My wife didn’t have to wake me up this time. I’d estimated his time of arrival, and I was in the living room waiting for him. I was dressed and ready to roll when the unit picked up his signal.
    I’d rented another car, a big, black Chevy, and outfitted it the day before. I packed up my briefcase, went out, and got in the car.
    I didn’t make the mistake of heading downtown this time. Red was a creature of habit. He’d stick to the tried and true and come in over the bridge.
    I got on the highway and headed uptown. When I reached the bridge ramp I kept going, got on the bridge, and went over to Jersey. I got off at the Fort Lee exit, turned left, crossed over the highway, and went down one of the access roads to the bridge. I stopped at the booth and paid my two dollars, and drove over the bridge again. Probably the nicest trip I’ve ever made to Jersey.
    I came down the ramp off the bridge and got onto the highway heading south. I drove down a few hundred yards, found a breakdown alcove, pulled off and waited. All right,
    Red, I’m ready. Just don’t fuck up and change anything on me.
    Red didn’t. The tracking unit showed he was heading straight for the bridge. Ten minutes later he came over, and the machine went crazy again as he went through the exit loop.
    There were no cars on the highway. The lights coming up on me had to be him. The tracking unit confirmed the fact.
    As he went by, I pulled out and gave chase. He had a lead, but I sped up to sixty-five and closed the gap. I rolled down my window, and slapped the red, flashing light which I had rented, onto the top of the car and switched it on. I gave a blast on my mock siren. It sounded pretty damn good.
    Red heard it. I saw his head go up and see the flashing lights in his rear-view mirror.
    I hoped he wouldn’t panic and run; that would have spoiled everything, but somehow Red hadn’t seemed the type for that. I figured he’d be more apt to feign innocence, talk fast, and hope for the best.
    I figured right. Red’s brake lights came on, and he pulled over to the side and stopped.
    I stopped behind him. It might have been better procedure to cut him off from the front, but I didn’t want him to see me or my license plate.
    When I got out of the car I felt slightly unsteady on my feet, and for the first time I realized how scared I was. I had to tell myself, Red’s the weak one, Red’s the one who’s gonna be scared. But what if I’m wrong? What if Red has a gun and decides to pull it? He’s sitting on twenty kilos of coke. He can’t afford to get caught; what if he’s got a gun? Bullshit. Red’s a pantywaist. He’s the weak one. Scare the weak one and they all run. Just do it.
    I walked up next to the driver’s side door. I’d kept my face averted on the way. Now, with the top of his car blocking my head from view, I reached up and pulled a ski-mask over my head.
    Red had rolled down his window and just begun his, “Gee officer, what did I do?” spiel, when I leaned down and stuck the Luger square in his face.
    “All right, Asshole,” I growled. “Give me the car keys.”
    Whatever anxiety I might have had about Red pulling a gun vanished the moment I saw his reaction. I don’t know if he peed in his pants, but if he didn’t he must have just made a pit stop. I never saw a guy so terrified. I felt bad about frightening some poor respectable citizen out of his wits, but respectable citizens shouldn’t be making drug runs for guys who go around cutting people’s dicks off.
    Red seemed incapable of complying with my request, so I reached over him and yanked the keys from the ignition.
    “Get down on the floor,” I told him. “And don’t move.”
    He might not have heard me. I poked him with the gun and he got the picture. He hit the floor.
    “Don’t move or I’ll kill you,” I said.
    I hurried to the back of the car, popped the trunk, and pulled out the suitcase. I bent down, grabbed the transmitter and wrenched it off the bottom of the gas tank. I slammed the trunk shut, ran and threw the suitcase and the transmitter in the back seat of my car. I hurried back to Red’s car. Red hadn’t moved.
    “All right, Asshole,” I said. “Just