The Impossibles | Page 6

gave you a chance to take it easy for a while," Burris said.
"You could catch up on your sleep, see some shows, have a couple of
drinks during the evening, take girls out for dinner--you know.
Something like that. How would you like it?"
"Well..." Malone said cautiously.
"Good," Burris said. "I knew you would."
Malone opened his mouth, thought briefly and closed it again. After all,
it did sound sort of promising, and if there was a catch in it he'd find
out about it soon enough.
"It's really just a routine case," Burris said in an offhand tone. "Nothing
to it."
"Oh," Malone said.
"There's this red Cadillac," Burris said. "It was stolen from a party in
Connecticut, out near Danbury, and it showed up in New York City.
Now, the car's crossed a state line."
"That puts it in our jurisdiction," Malone said, feeling obvious.
"Right," Burris said. "Right on the nose."
"But the New York office--"
"Naturally, they're in charge of everything," Burris said. "But I'm
sending you out as sort of a special observer. Just keep your eyes open,
and nose around and let me know what's happening."
"Keep my eyes and nose what?" Malone said.
"Open," Burris said. "And let me know about it."
Malone tried to picture himself with his eyes and nose open, and
decided he didn't look very attractive that way. Well, it was only a
figure of speech or something. He didn't have to think about it.

It really made a very ugly picture.
"But why a special observer?" he said after a second. Burris could read
the reports from the New York office, and probably get more facts than
any single agent could find out just wandering around a strange city. It
sounded as if there were something, Malone told himself, just a tiny
shade rotten in Denmark. It sounded as if there were going to be
something in the nice easy assignment he was getting that would make
him wish he'd gone lion hunting in Darkest Africa instead.
And then again, maybe he was wrong. He stood at ease and waited to
find out.
"Well," Burris said, "it is just a routine case. Just like I said. But there
seems to be something a little bit odd about it."
"I see," Malone said with a sinking feeling.
"Here's what happened," Burris said hurriedly, as if he were afraid
Malone was going to change his mind and refuse the assignment. "This
red Cadillac I told you about was reported stolen from Danbury. Three
days later, it turned up in New York City--parked smack across the
street from a precinct police station. Of course it took them a while to
wake up, but one of the officers happened to notice the routine report
on stolen cars in the area, and he decided to go across the street and
check the license number on the car. Then something funny happened."
"Something funny?" Malone asked. He doubted that, whatever it was, it
was going to make him laugh. But he kept his face a careful, receptive
blank.
"That's right," Burris said. "Now, if you're going to understand what
happened, you've got to get the whole picture."
"Sure," Malone said.
"Only that isn't what I mean," Burris added suddenly.

Malone blinked. "What isn't what you mean?" he said.
"Understanding what happened," Burris said. "That's the trouble. You
won't understand what happened. I don't understand it, and neither does
anybody else. So what do you think about it?"
"Think about what?" Malone said.
"About what I've been telling you," Burris snapped. "This car."
Malone took a deep breath. "Well," he said, "this officer went over to
check the license plate. It seems like the right thing to do. It's just what
I'd have done myself."
"Sure you would," Burris said. "Anybody would. But listen to me."
"All right, Chief," Malone said.
"It was just after dawn--early in the morning." Malone wondered
briefly if there were parts of the world where dawn came, say, late in
the afternoon, or during the evening sometime, but he said nothing.
"The street was deserted," Burris went on. "But it was pretty light out,
and the witnesses are willing to swear that there was nobody on that
street for a block in either direction. Except them, of course."
"Except who?" Malone said.
"Except the witnesses," Burris said patiently. "Four cops, police
officers who were standing on the front steps of the precinct station,
talking. They were waiting to go on duty, or anyhow that's what the
report said. It's lucky they were there, for whatever reason; they're the
only witnesses we've got."
Burris stopped. Malone waited a few seconds and then said, as calmly
as he could, "Witnesses to what?"
"To this whole business with Sergeant Jukovsky," Burris said.
The