Wading Into War: A Benjamin Wade Mystery by Scott Dennis Parker Page A

bullets pinged off the street
where I had been.
    My heart pounded at the realization I had just escaped death. I paused a
second to catch my breath.
    It was then that I became aware of other things. Sirens filled the air
and the red-and-blue lights bounced off the sides of the buildings. From all
sides, police cars converged, some marked, others not. All avenues of escape
were blocked. That didn’t deter the driver. He plowed into one of the unmarked
cars, trying in vain to get back to the street. The steel of the cars and the
bricks of the buildings wedged him tight. He was going nowhere.
    I got on my feet and moved forward. A commanding voice told me to freeze.
That was when I realized I still held my gun. I raised my hands and dropped the
gun to the ground. Three policemen charged forward and cuffed my hands behind
me. Not surprisingly, they didn’t listen to my protests of innocence.
    Across the parking lot, a ring of police officers surrounded Dietrich’s
car. Every officer had their gun in hand, arms extended, ready for anything.
The two goons threw out their pistols and were clambering out of the car, their
hands raised in surrender. Dietrich hadn’t emerged yet. The officers who had
nabbed me roughly shoved and pushed me toward the action. I had a front row
seat.
    Another small group of policemen made their way around the back of the
car. They crouched and moved forward. As the far rear door opened, I saw a pair
of hands go up. One of those hands held Gardner’s briefcase.
    Suddenly I remembered my friend. I searched for him where he had fallen.
He wasn’t there. Instead, Gardner, flanked by two officers, walked to my
location. He held a bloody towel on one arm.
    From across the parking lot, three other men strode forward. They held no
weapons, but I recognized them. It was Donnelly, Gregson the driver, and the third
man who had ridden shotgun earlier this evening. Not for the first time today,
I marveled at my innately poor ability to lose any pursuer. If I was going to
give this P.I. thing the old college try, I was simply going to have to get
better.
    Gardner shuffled up beside me. I said, “You okay?”
    “Yeah,” he said, his teeth gritted together. “I’ll live. I’m more steamed
at not having those documents.” He looked down at my hands. “Why the cuffs?”
    I gave him my lopsided grin. “Despite my honest entreaties, these
gentlemen think I’m a criminal.”
    “Well, you’re certainly guilty of bad timing. Couldn’t you have slugged
that guy before he pulled the trigger? I mean, really, what were you waiting
for?”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “The perfect time.”
    More and more police cars and bystanders gathered around the area. The
night staff from the Post-Dispatch building had also gathered on the
stairs, watching the news come to them rather than the other way around. The
two henchmen were being shuffled to waiting police cars. I could hear them
shouting and, in a surprising twist, they spoke English. And not just accented
English but honest-to-goodness East Texas English. I heard only a snippet of
something the driver said. “We were just hired. It was only for the money, I
didn’t know he was a ...”
    “A Nazi,” Gardner grunted. “The son of a bitch is a Nazi.”
    “Yup,” I said in agreement.
    Donnelly emerged from behind the car. He carried the briefcase. Behind
him, two of his soldiers flanked a handcuffed Dietrich. Captain Burman walked with
them. Donnelly indicated me. “Uncuff him.”
    The two policemen next to me didn’t take orders from a man who wasn’t
their commanding officer. They looked to Burman who, with gritted teeth and
flexing jaw muscles, nodded once. The guy on my left unlocked the cuffs but not
before making them just a little bit tighter. I winced, further shattering my
cool P.I. demeanor. I turned and glanced at his name: Potter. That’s a name I
wouldn’t soon forget. Potter just smirked at me as he walked away.
    Donnelly said, “So, Wade, you