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Cul-de-Sac

Mel Waldman

    Detective Charles Ross, a rotund middle-aged man, went off duty at 11:30 P.M. He drove to Coney Island to get franks and fries at Nathan’s. He devoured them.
    At 11:50 P.M., he heard about a robbery on his police radio. He headed north to Mermaid Avenue and then west on Mermaid. He caught up with the robber who was on foot and heading east. The fellow turned around, ran west and then south on West 27th Street. He flew across the street. But it was a cul-de-sac. He was trapped.
    Detective Ross left his car on the corner and rushed into the cul-de-sac. The street was pitch-black except for a tiny area illuminated by a streetlamp. He couldn’t see the robber. Then he saw something move near the lamp.
    “Stop, police!” he cried out.
    The robber stopped, but pointed a gun at him.
    “Put the gun down!” he shouted.
    But the fellow lifted the weapon.
    Detective Ross shot him three times. He fell to the ground.
    Ross found a dead teenage boy, but no gun. He left to call for help. When he returned, the kid was gone.
    “You killed a kid and the corpse vanished,” his partner said. “Impossible, Charlie!”
    Ross returned to the cul-de-sac many times. Maybe it never happened. A corpse couldn’t vanish on that street. But his guilt was unbearable.

    One day, he looked in the mirror and solved the puzzle. He never killed the boy. He murdered Ross.
    The kid entered Ross’s precinct and gave himself up. Maybe the nightmares would stop. When they handcuffed him, he grew a big smile.

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