The Campus Detective

He started out on his usual route home. After he got onto the freeway, he noticed a pair of headlights of a car that seemed to be pacing him. Could someone really be following me? he thought. He slowed down, hoping the following car would go around him. The car behind him slowed too, still staying with him. This really unnerved him. He quickly changed lanes and tromped on the accelerator. The car behind him did exactly the same, keeping right on his tail. Now Wesson changed back to the outside lane and suddenly slowed down. The other car did the same maneuver with great skill, and then began to advance on him. Wesson took his gun out of the holster and placed it on the seat beside him. The other car was almost on his rear bumper, when suddenly everything erupted in a bright flash of lights; red and blue flashing lights. The very first thought that came to Wesson was to run. The second thought was to pick up the gun and to shoot himself. He didn't do either and pulled onto the shoulder and stopped. He sat there for what seemed like eternity with a bright spotlight shining through the rear window of his car. He thought about hiding the gun but knew if the state trooper would see him do it, he’d really be in trouble. So, he just sat there and waited while trooper ran his license plate on his computer. Finally, Wesson could see the officer approach in his side mirror. He rolled down his window and was greeted by a flashlight beam in his eyes. The first words uttered by the trooper were, “Please step out of the car.” The trooper was shocked to see Wesson condition with bandages and two black eyes. “What the hell happened to you?” he said. “It looks like you’ve already been in an accident.” “Oh, well I was at this lecture given by a Nazi when….” He knew he had already said too much, as the officer just gaped at him. Wesson obeyed every command he was given. He was patted down and then told to stand in back of his car. “Will you give me permission to search your vehicle?” asked the trooper. “Yes.” “Before I do, will I find any surprises?” “I don't think so.” “You don't have any other weapons other than the Glock I see on the passenger seat?” “No.” The trooper searched the car thoroughly and was satisfied there were no other weapons or illegal drugs. “Now, I want to see your permit for the gun.” Wesson fished it out of his wallet and gave it to him. The officer held the flashlight under his arm while he unfolded and examined the document “You're a police officer?” asked the trooper with surprise. “Yeah,” said Wesson as he dug out his shield and identification. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” “I can guess.” “What were you doing? First you'd slow down, then speed up and change lanes, slow down, change lanes again. You looked like you were trying to ditch me.” This was very difficult for Wesson. It seems like he's made himself look foolish to every other police jurisdiction in the area. “I'm highly embarrassed. I know how this must look to you, Officer, but there was a rational reason for what I did. But, I can't tell you about it.” “Why not?” “Because you might think I'm crazy.” “I already think you're nuts. I'm trying to decide whether to arrest you, or give you a $500 ticket.” “Listen, I can assure you I'm not drunk, and I've never tried drugs. If you think you've got to give me a ticket, go ahead.” The trooper looked over Wesson's identification. “You stand right here. I'm going to run the rest of this information on the computer” he said as he returned to his car and punched in the data. There is an on-line data base that has every North American police officer's profile and status. This will prove whether or not Wesson is for real. The trooper returned holding a computer printout which included photos of Wesson’s face, and a handwriting sample. “You're lucky. I'm just going to give you an expensive ticket.” “Thanks. I guess.” “You know, I've been thinking. You probably thought someone was stalking you, and you were trying to get away.” Wesson didn't say anything, and he was now wondering if the trooper was real or not. But, he must be. He had a computer in his car, the uniform, the nameplate, the equipment . . . . “Does this have anything to do with your job?” “Yes. It does.” “You want to tell me about it?” asked the trooper with concern. “I can't tell you about it. It's almost like dealing with a disease. If I did tell you, you might become infected, too.” “Man, that's weird! Maybe you should see a doc.” “Look. Just write the ticket. I want to go home.” “Forget the ticket. Go on home. Get some help, will ya?” Wesson thanked the trooper, returned to his car and continued the drive home. He could see the trooper following, and then turn off after a couple of miles.