|Who Knows Where Evil Doer Goes - The Tracker
By Al Moser
It was a dark and misty night. The faint glow
of the autumn moon shone through a hazy halo. I was a reserve police officer on
a routine patrol. At about 0130 hours the crackle of my radio broke the silence.
A cabbie complaint--customer skipped out on the
fare. It was a boring night. All three patrol cars responded to the scene of the
The cab driver gave a vague description of the
suspect and pointed across a lawn and down an alley. All other officers spread
out to canvass the town. I stayed to ponder the mystery. By then, two more units
joined the chase. When the confusion died down and the wails of sirens faded in
the distance, I inspected the scene of the crime, using techniques learned from
the Tracker. I observed shinings of footprints left in the dewy lawn. I
followed these to the alley. Here, I bent down and tilted my hand to the side.
The street lights showed up the suspects prints - they matched those on the
My heart began to pound. I hurried along the
alley, following the prints into a parking lot. They seemed to end. I checked
where they turned off the alley into the parking lot. No signs. I returned to
the last print. It pointed to apartment #1.
I caught my breath and then slowly approached.
Alongside the sidewalk leading to the stairs was a near perfect track that
matched those I'd been following.
I climbed the steps. There, on the top step was
another identical track!
I reached for the door and knocked. It opened
and I asked, “May I talk to the man who just ran in here? He forgot to pay his
cab fare.” The occupant stared back and answered, "What makes you think
anyone else is here?"
"I know he's here! I tracked the suspect
from the cab, across the lawn, around the corner and up the asphalt
The suspect must have overheard the
conversation. Trembling, he came to the door. With a look of disbelief he
admitted to the crime.
(Al Moser is one of Tom's Instructors; Al and
his family live in Snohomish, Wash.)