Detective Mike

Chapter 5

Mike looks thoughtful and then asks, "Rick, do you carry a weapon? I mean a weapon of any kind?" Rick stubbornly looks away. "Son! Empty your pockets on the table!" Mike's voice is stern.

Marlene throws her arms around her son and glares at Mike. "You have no right to quiz him like that! He's a good boy and you leave him alone!"

"Marlene, go tend to your daughters and leave the men to their business!"

Rick glares at him, "You can't talk to her like that, she gave me my tribal name and she..."

Mike speaks directly to Marlene in a low cool voice, "Don't come between us." Marlene snaps out of a daze of sorts and looks at them both then turns to run from the kitchen. Mike stabs the table with a hardened finger.

Rick looks him straight in the eyes and flashes a long wicked blade open as he pulls a knife from his pocket. He slams it down on the table. Mike asks, "Is that all?"

"It's enough for now!"

"And you want me to train you on that rifle? Tell me truthfully, do you have shells for that rifle?"

"No!"

"Then put that blade away in your pocket and sit with me."

Rick does as he asks. Mike thinks of the old chief out at Agassis whose son was so bitter and hard to manage when he was investigating Pauline's murder. He had never thought the same future could be here in his own home but he recognizes that this is how it starts.

He hardly knows where to start. "Richard, you are Stout Willow of the Wolf clan and will be a man one day. You won't be a warrior or a gang member, I hope. You will be a man. Do you see the difference?"

"I am a warrior! I look after my own!"

Mike shakes his head, "We who have chosen to follow the white man's ways and take advantage of the benefits of it, like a good education and the opportunity to run a business: we have to follow the white man's laws as well. I very much suspect that blade exceeds what is legal. You're on a borderline now of taking actions that might be considered illegal. Doesn't your school have rules about carrying a knife like that?"

"Yes, but no one has seen it."

"Why carry it then?"

"If I need it, it's there."

"Let's say you had to use it one day. What then?"

"They'd know enough to leave us alone!"

"Would they? Now think about it. What would they do?"

He looks triumphant, "They'd hide when they saw me coming."

Mike speaks sharply, "Stop that! Look at me! What would they do?"

Rick looks at him directly and thinks for a moment. He shrugs, "I guess they'd call the police."

"Oh, and would the police say we are not going to approach him, he has a big knife?"

Rick looks at the table, "No."

"Son, have you ever saw me carry a gun even when I am chasing murderers?"

Rick looks up at him, "No and I wondered why you don't."

"Son, I can only explain it in terms of respect. I respect the law and the law in turn respects me. It was hard at first to earn their respect and even yet there are times when it doesn't work but I am a man of his word and they treat me that way. It becomes a way, what I call 'the way of a man' and it carries me through dangers. The best policemen understand it. You carry yourself with pride because you are a man of your word. It's been enough."

"But you've been shot at and threatened. They ran you off the freeway."

"Only as a last desperate resort because they knew they were going to get caught. I've survived because I know I'm right and they know I'm right. If I stooped to their tactics and indiscriminate use of force, do you think they would respect me? They would regard me as just another crook."

"But how can I do that?"

"You said no one knows you have that knife, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"So what has kept them from attacking you or your sisters so far?"

Rick thinks about that. "I don't know, just lucky I guess."

"You don't think they have any respect for you?"

"Oh sure, my friends do... and some of the bullies, I guess."

Mike says quietly, "You don't need the knife, Rick."

Rick shakes his head slowly.

Mike goes on, "You're backup is here." He taps his head. "You're very intelligent." Sotto voce he says, "You get it from your mother. Don't tell her I said that." He goes on, "You can out think those guys and as a last resort you can call on the police. It is their job to keep the peace."

Rick puts the knife on the table. He murmurs, "I'm not sure about this, Dad. I hope you're right. I'll try it your way."

Mike invites his son to follow him downstairs to his office. He opens a drawer and flips a small finger size basket weaving on the desk. Rick reaches for it asking, "What's that, Dad?"

"That's an example of using your head to cool someone down." He takes it from his son, "It was invented by the Chinese."

Rick grins, "That?"

"Slide your finger into that."

Rick puts his finger in one end. Mike steps forward and takes the hand with the weaving on the finger quickly around behind his back grabbing the other hand and jamming a finger into the other end of the woven tube. He steps in front of Rick and sees the surprise grow in his son's face as he tries to free himself. "What the... it's stuck... I can't get my finger out... Dad?"

"That's true, it's a Chinese finger cuff. It's not meant to be a permanent device, simply a means to slow an angry individual down, give them time to reconsider what they might have been going to do. As they cool down they will figure out how to remove it. Have you?"

"I think I can get some slack in it by moving it with my other fingers but it's difficult. Wow, and that's just a little piece of tubing."

Mike steps around behind him and releases the woven tubing. Rick looks it over and tries putting his finger back into it tentatively in front of him. He tries it a few times and sees how it works. He remarks on it, "The harder you pull the tighter it grips you. That's really something!"

"That's true, but it shows how little it takes to stop someone. It doesn't take knives and guns, just a little leverage and thought. It's just an example of other ways to do things, son. I will show you something else now but you must promise to not play with this. See this?" He pulls from the drawer a nylon electricians' tie. "See how this works?" He puts the free end into the tiny hole on the other end and invites Rick to try and remove it.

"Wow, it's stuck in there. How do you get it back out, Dad?"

"You don't. You have to cut it off." He takes another one and shows his son the tiny metal tongue inside the hole. "Electricians use these to tie up bundles of wires so they can be arranged neatly, like in aircrafts or automobiles. But they can also be used as handcuffs. I carry them in my briefcase and sometimes in my belt if I am in a serious situation." He shows Rick the tiny cut in his belt and slides a couple of the ties between the plies of his belt. They disappear except for the lumpy heads, hardly noticeable at his waist.

"Now the reason I caution you about these is that they can be tightened too easily and if used by someone inexperienced can cut off the blood flow in a hand. Again remember the only way to loosen them is to cut them off. They can't be loosened so I don't use them unless I have a knife. If I get one too tight I put on a second one a bit looser and then cut off the one that is too tight."

"Those look real neat, easy to hide and really strong."

"They work equally well as leg irons but that really is dangerous. You have to understand that a person's ankles swell as they put their weight on them so they have to be much looser without being loose enough to pull the legs out of them. I would only use them for leg irons on a person I knew was not going to be standing because once an ankle starts to swell the tie will cut off the circulation more and cause more swelling. They could easily lose a foot over that if extended for any length of time. Do you see how serious that is?"

"I understand, Dad. I won't play around with anything like that."

"You say that now and you mean it but keep in mind, if you ever do use something like this that you must keep a close eye on anyone with them on. You can't go away and leave them like that. It could mean a hand or a foot loss in a very painful way. It's important you understand that."

"It's like a snare and I know how deadly they are. I understand, Dad."

"So now you understand a little bit about why I never carry a weapon. I use my head with attitude, posture, stance, confidence and a backup of delaying tactics like the wire ties, quick reflexes and sometime brute strength. Everything in it's place and everything a matter of degree, the least possible force to meet the current situation. The less an opponent knows of my arsenal the more likely they are to work."

"But what if they are shooting at you with a gun?"

"Doesn't happen all that often but use your head, pull the rug out from under them, toss something to distracts them, make unpredictable moves or retreat. Never forget to watch for an out when you get into a tight situation. You use your head and reflexes. The most deadly weapon is right there in your head." He raps a knuckle on Rick's scull. They break up laughing.

"It must be just about your bedtime, sport."