When the office door opened suddenly I knew the game was up. It had been a money-maker, but it was all over. As the cop walked in, I sat back in the chair and put on a happy grin. He had the same somber expression and heavy foot that they all have – and the same lack of humor. I almost knew to the word what he was going to say before he uttered a syllable.
“James Bolivar diGriz I arrest you on the charge-”
I was waiting for the word charge, I thought it made a nice touch that way. As he said it, I pressed the button that set off the charge of black powder in the ceiling. The crossbeam buckled and the three ton safe dropped through right on the top of the cop’s head. He squashed very nicely, thank you. The cloud of plaster dust settled and all I could see of him was one hand, slightly crumpled. It twitched a bit and the index finger pointed at me accusingly. His voice was a little muffled by the safe and sounded a bit annoyed. In fact, he repeated himself a bit.
“-on the charge of illegal entry, theft, forgery-”
He ran on like that for quite a while. It was an impressive list, but i had heard it all before. I didn’t let it interfere with my stuffing all the money from the desk drawers into my suitcase. The list ended with a new charge, and I would swear on a stack of thousand credit notes that high, that there was a hurt tone in his voice.
“In addition, the charge of assaulting a police robot will be added to your record. This was foolish since my bran and larynx are armored and in my midsection-”
“That I know well, George, but your little two-way radio is in the top of your pointed head and I don’t want you reporting to your friends just yet.”
