Janwillem De Wetering - The Rattle-Rat

"It'll be quite an adventure," de Gier said. "If you open fire here, you're not granting yourself a speedy pursuit. Haven't you been equipped with fast cars?" He pointed. "Look, they can get out now, the trucks have gone. If the chief constable here lets the suspects get away, you can catch them in open country-or not, of course, if your cars are too slow."

"Too slow?" the commander said. "Too slow?"

"What you might be doing outside my limits," the chief constable said, "would not be without my blessing."

"Good country here," de Gier said. "Nothing but narrow, curvy dikes. If you push suspects off the road, they'll land in a moat. Unarmed submerged combat, just die ticket for your men."

"We're trained with knives too," the commander said.

"Knives," de Gier said slowly. "I can see it. Fritz and Ary hiding in the reeds, you and your men crawling noiselessly closer, still closer. Glistening steel between your teeth, and then, whish."

The commander grinned, "You're my sort of fellow. Would you be from Amsterdam?"

"Yes, sir."

"One beautiful day we'll invade that city. Rub all black faces into the gutter. Push the furry Far Eastern monkeys up a gable. Liquidate the foreign gangsters. Hunt punks and pimps into extinction. Won't be long now, I bet."

"You think so, sir?"

"Not with the way you're not doing things. Go on selling your services to the enemy. Let misery take solid root. Then we'll be called and we'll clean you all up."

"Right, sir," de Gier said. "I can hardly wait. If you'll excuse me now, I'll go and watch the suspects again. I'm only an observer, I'm not in on this at all."

Breathing deeply, de Gier strolled along. In the past, he thought, a scene like this would have irritated me considerably, but now I know better. It's a matter of tolerating all-pervasive* stupidity. The individual cannot change the ignorance of the powerful group, but he can learn to go alone and follow his chosen path. By manipulating my private fate, I will rise to dizzy heights and enjoy myself on the way. Live the good life. Like now, for instance, I think I'll have a snack.

He leaned against the front of a stall. A young woman in a spotless white coat leaned toward him. De Gier ordered fried sole on a bun. Up in the gallery he could look down on the hall. More farmers were slapping hands with each other. What do I see here? de Gier thought. Small-minded greed preyed on by evil. Amused, I follow fateful events that I'm quite free of myself.

"Coffee with it?" the young woman in the white coat asked.

De Gier nodded, from far away, for he was soundlessly moving, at speed, in empty space. Yes, why not, some nice fresh hot coffee.

"Hi," Eldor said.

"And a nice day to you," de Gier said cheerfully.

"Anything happening yet?"

"Any minute now, dear Eldor." De Gier smiled. "Shots will crack in a moment, or one shot to be exact, and it'll be a harmless blank. Further shots might make corpses."

"Get away," Eldor said. "Corpses in Friesland? I've been a cop six years, and the worst I've ever seen was a husband arguing with his wife. I've also seen cars go against traffic on a one-way street, but that's because of the way we've arranged our transport here. I don't even write a ticket when I see it happen."

"In Amsterdam…"

"Yes, sure, in Amsterdam," Eldor said. "But my wife won't let me work there. My wife is a good woman. My kids are good kids. I'm good too. Just look at me."

Eldor Janssen towered above de Gier. His freshly laundered uniform was an artful combination of pure blues, framing six foot six of rugged manliness. Eldor's eyes reflected an unpolluted, ever-present sea.

"What do I see?" de Gier asked.

"Goodness," Eldor said, "is too one-sided for me. I wouldn't mind being bad, but that's impossible in these parts. Ride a horse into a church and rape the bride, I wouldn't mind that. Or be a pirate, swinging through rigging, flashing a curved sword, or astride an old-model Harley-Davidson, in smudgy leather, with 'Fuck You' painted on the back of my jacket."

"Really," de Gier said. "Eldor!"

"I just want to be courageous," Eldor said. "On the right side, if need be."

"Good hasn't won yet," de Gier said, "and as long as it hasn't, there is still much to do."

"It has won here," Eldor said sadly.

The fanners began to climb the stone steps to the bar.

"Watch it now," de Gier said. "The suspects should be taking charge of the doors."

"You're sure now?"

"I have never," de Gier said, "been more sure of anything than that that bastard over there, with the dusty curls under the edge of his cap, is Fritz, and the other bastard over there, in the shiny wooden clogs and the dustcoat with the sleeves rolled up, is our Ary. They each have a hand in a pocket, holding a gun, and they have other hands out to hold on to their bags."

"I'm not to go inside," Eldor said. "The chief constable told me just now. My uniform might just possibly excite the suspects."

"Oh, I don't know," de Gier said. "They're professionals, they won't be easily upset."

"Our instructions," Eldor said, "tell us clearly that in a situation like this, we cannot even think of drawing our guns. Three hundred fellow beings pushed together in a bar, and there I would be, maybe firing hard-hitting, long-range rimfire bullets. The bullets will penetrate the guilty party and all the not-guilty parties behind him too."

"You stay right here," de Gier said, "where nothing outof-the-way can happen."

A shot cracked, followed by sudden silence, then by the screaming of waitresses and the melancholy lowing of the cattle below. Eldor considered, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. "Maybe I'll just take a look," Eldor said softly. De Gier walked along. Fritz came hurtling out through one of the bar doors, revolver in one hand, filled bag in the other. Eldor pushed himself through the door and the human cluster behind it.

Ary, interrupted in saying good-bye to his victims, looked around. "No cops here, get out."

Eldor towered quietly, his eyes ablaze with cold blue power.

Ary's revolver indicated a moaning waitress. "You want me to do away with this poor innocent woman?"

Eldor's silence persisted.

"You don't," Ary said. "So here we go, the poor woman and me. Get going, miss."

"Just a moment," Eldor said.

"Listen, cop," Ary said. "I'm serious. You really want me to do away with this lovely lady?"

Eldor's finger pressed the spring in his holster. Hie gun jumped into his hand. Eldor's arm rose slowly. His pistol's barrel pointed at Ary's nose.

Ary's revolver pointed at Eldor's wide chest.

"You," Ary said, "or me."

"I," Eldor said, "or you." His other arm rose and supported the mighty hand that held his pistol.

"You're making me real nervous," Ary said.

"Put your gun on the floor," Eldor said.

"So what have I got to lose?" Ary asked. "Think of yourself, dear fellow. A young man with a beautiful wife and cute kiddies playing at her feet. Your career, officer, consider it while you still can consider."

"I'm going to count now," Eldor said. "Starting with one"

"You," Ary said, "are making a serious mistake."

"Two," Eldor's bass voice sang melodiously.

Ary lowered his revolver.

"Put it down," Eldor said. "Don't drop it. I'm counting again. One."

Ary's gun nuzzled Eldor's knee.

"Two" Eldor sang.

Ary squatted and placed his gun on the floor.

Everybody around them cheered and applauded.

De Gier ran away, through the door, across the gallery, down the stairs. He sped athletically through the hall. He crossed the parking lot. He came to a stop. Two cars, their noses mashed into each other, were silently watched by tall, unhappy-looking men. All the men were heavily armed.

"A little accident?" de Gier asked the commander.