SAVED BY THE SIREN
I was driving on the New Jersey Turnpike now.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t get lost again, not prior to reaching
New Jersey anyway. However, as we were about an hour from
New Jersey, there were more morning commuters on the road.
Daniel didn’t look at all worried about the time. He was more
interested in my story and my somewhat strange behavior after
my unsuccessful move on Linda.
“Where were you running to?”
“I was just running away. I didn’t know where to go. It was
still early for meeting Selma in bar. After all, I wasn’t
sure if I should meet her there at all.”
“I still don’t get you. Even while you were running away from
the Secret Service, you should still have had some sort of
plan. You couldn’t be just running away. You would get lost.”
“Luckily, it’s hard to get lost in Manhattan with all those
numbered streets.”
“True,” Daniel nodded. “But what could you possible do in
New York being chased by the Secret Service without a cent
in your pocket?”
“That’s exactly why I was running without plan. I thought
that that would be my advantage. Just to buy some time. I
would have some chance if I was a trained spy or a criminal.
I thought about stealing a car, but I don’t know how to break
into car, although I can fix so many things on cars, car locks
are not my specialty.”
“Thank goodness for that, otherwise things would have just
gotten worse for you. A legit reason to arrest you and a criminal
charge was the last thing you needed.”
“Even without it things didn’t get better.”
***
The air was full of a police siren cacophony.
I was getting puffed out to the extent that I couldn’t run
anymore. I stopped running and started turning back. I saw
the pedestrians turning their heads and looking at me. I managed
to get the attention of New Yorkers that were used to almost
anything. I was breathing hard. I had a stitch on my left
side. The strong jerking pain forced me to stop and breathe
in deeply. I leaned forward with my hands on my knees and
realized that I really needed some money if I were to get
anywhere far enough to buy me some time. I stopped a random
pedestrian and asked her for a dollar. The lady ignored me,
then two men and a couple, but still nothing. Bloody accent!
Nobody wants to help a stranger.
The police sirens were getting louder, but they soon became
overpowered by the engine of the police chopper. Nobody was
willing to help me and without any rational plan, I had barely
enough strength to walk down the stairs leading to a basement.
The door was locked. I leaned hard on it, but that wasn’t
enough to break it. I wanted to break the door down with my
fist, but I was afraid that that would attract too much attention.
So I just lay in front of the door. The police helicopter
was hovering just above me. When the sound of sirens passed
me by, I had one last hope that perhaps I could actually escape
this hunt. They missed me. They wouldn’t be coming back.
I decided to get up and walk off somewhere, casually like
nothing had happened. The problem was that I didn’t know where
I was and where I could go. As the chopper was still in the
sky, crouching down in front of the basement door seemed to
be the best solution. Until the police sirens became louder
again. The sound of car brakes and police sirens indicated
to me that I was trapped. I couldn’t see them, but I heard
sounds: slamming car doors; stampeding footsteps. I knew it
was over. My only hope was for the police to get me before
the Secret Service. Then the realization; I was saved.
“Get on the ground! Get on the ground now!” A police officer
yelled! Yes, not some agent, but a NYPD policeman.
“I am on ground,” I said desperately.
“Put your hands behind your head!” the cop continued with
his procedure.
I obeyed. The policeman started reciting the famous lines:
“You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer
any questions. Anything you say may be used against you in
the court of law...”
***
“I expected you to put up a better fight,
or continue running away,” Daniel interjected.
“Honestly speaking, I was relieved that cops got me. I still
had more faith in police’s behavior than in Secret Service.
At least civil law could protect me and I could get access
to a lawyer. If I only didn’t make one major mistake.”
“What did you do now, Zoran?”
“I didn’t listen to cops. I should have remained silent. Instead,
I talked and talked like a bloody idiot.”
***
“Can you tell me why am I arrested?”
“Where do you want me to start, sir?” the policewoman that
was driving the car started answering, while her partner was
keeping an eye on me. “You caused that mess in the Waldorf
Astoria, running away and most likely not paying the bill,
as we caught your wife with the luggage.”
“How do you know she is my wife?”
“She identified you on the surveillance video.”
So they got Selma. For a moment, I thought that they might
be playing some tricks on me or that they actually had Linda,
who pulled out some of her tricks. I was listening to their
radio communication to hear what was going on.
“Operator, this is car 571, we have a 10-1539
after he caused a 10-103. 40”
The cop was speaking in codes so I couldn’t understand a word
she was saying. She continued. “Can you tell me the name of
the lady that was arrested in Waldorf Astoria half an hour
ago?”
“Selma Bobic,” the voice said over the radio.
The policeman that was in the passenger seat asked me, “Is
she your wife?”
“Yes, she is.”
The policewoman spoke into the microphone, “10-4. 41”
“Why did you arrest her?” I asked her.
“She allegedly trashed a room and tried to run out of the
hotel with all her luggage without paying the fairly substantial
bill.”
“She didn’t trash the room,” I strongly objected, as it was
obviously a setup. “And we had cash deposited there.”
“Obviously not enough,” the policeman said sharply.
“That’s it? You arrested me for not paying my hotel bill.”
“It’s enough. What would you like to hear, that you are arrested
for an armed robbery or a murder?” The policeman didn’t understand
where I was going with my questions. He definitely wasn’t
one of them.
But I had good reasons for asking. I didn’t respond to the
policeman. I was quiet now. The new hope for my salvation
materialized. Being arrested was my chance to save my life
and perhaps even a chance to experience life in the limelight.
I knew very well that this was not just a new ‘blue dress’
kind of scandal, but I thought that the extent to which the
Secret Service had tried to cover things up could result in
a new Watergate. I didn’t want to play my cards early, but
I knew that if I played them right, I could actually still
win this game.
***
After everything that Linda
had told me, she never explained to me how the Secret Service
worked. I just knew that we were running from them and that
they are all-powerful, all-knowing. However, I didn’t know
how well they collaborated with other security agencies and
how much they are above the law.
“As far as I can tell you, all security agencies in America
are just islands that despise their colleagues in other agencies,”
Daniel tried to answer the question that I didn’t really ask
him. “And don’t forget they are still humans and often pretty
flawed.”
“I had an image of them being almost like James Bond.”
Daniel burst into laughter. “James Bond? You can’t be serious.”
“Shouldn’t they be the most elite agents?”
“They probably should, but they are not.” Daniel went on laughing.
“Besides that, you can’t be serious about James Bond. You
are forgetting that he was a fictional super-agent.”
“No, he was based on Serbian playboy and double-agent Duško
Popov, who Ian Fleming was following as SIS agent during Second
World War.” As a Serb and a womanizer, I often used this trivia.
“That’s not the point.” Daniel ignored me completely. “Those
agents aren’t that good. If they were, Kennedy would still
be alive.”
“Unless somebody from inside wanted Kennedy to go,” I said,
now playing a devil’s advocate.
“Oh, there are enough conspiracy theories already, we don’t
need any new ones. They were just incompetent and allowed
a Cuban agent with very little support to kill the President.
Nothing more. Nothing less. Just Castro’s revenge and inept
agents, which are not much better even today.”
For the first time during our trip, Daniel was dismissing
a conspiracy theory and not creating a new one. But I still
tried to explain my fears. “Still, no matter how incapable
they may be, they still have extra power. They are above law.”
“That’s not exactly true. The Secret Service will always try
their best to be discreet and to keep their actions concealed.
Therefore, their plan is to not get into circumstances that
require the application of law or involve themselves in any
kind of publicity. But if they really need to, they can get
help from other agencies and cover their work in the interest
of national security.
“I thought so.” I just wanted Daniel’s lecturing to stop.
“When I found out why I was arrested, I realized that Secret
Service had just set me up, and cops did not know whole story
about Linda and Bush. So, they could actually protect me.”
Daniel frowned. “Not necessarily.”
“Well that’s what I thought at time.” I was trying to describe
what was on my mind at the time to help Daniel understand
me better. “My biggest problem was in portraying my innocent
self.”
“Were you innocent?”
“Admittedly, I did not put American national interests first,”
I said, stating the obvious. “If I didn’t have any financial
gains, I could probably portray myself slightly better.”
“Wait, did you have financial interests?” Daniel wondered.
“Well if you did, I certainly wasn’t able to pick up any so
far. It sounded more to me like a story of motives.”
“Yes, I was motivated by future financial gains.”
“The cops wouldn’t know about them, or at least they couldn’t
prove them. You could have avoided talking about them.”
“That was my plan. I actually decided to stick to Linda’s
initial story.”
“Wise decision, Zoran.”
“Not so wise, though…”
***
“Listen to me, please,” I pleaded as calmly
and convincingly as I could. “This is all one huge setup.”
The police pair did not seem to pay much attention to my testimony.
“Secret Service is setting me up.”
The blond policeman warned again with his deep voice, “Sir,
I will remind you one more time of your right to remain silent,
and I’d advise you to use it.”
“Listen to me.” I was trying to stay calm, but the frustration
in my voice was letting me down – a clear indication that
I was under extreme stress. “I am just a cabdriver. I tried
to help a lady who got in my car asking me for help. Her lover
was after her so I agreed to help. I guess you would do the
same thing.”
The cops were still indifferent to my testimony. I continued
talking as they were my last chance. But my nervousness made
my English worse than ever and was ruining my chances of getting
a fair hearing by the cops.
“I know it does not sound like big deal until I heard who
her lover was. Please listen carefully. He was George W. Bush.
She was George W. Bush’s mistress and she was ready to blow
whistle.”
Both cops looked at each other with a ‘you can’t be serious’
expression on their faces. Now I was definitely sure they
didn’t know anything, and that they weren’t working for the
Secret Service. I decided to tell them my version of the story.
“Since then, Secret Service agents were constantly after us.
We were running away, but they would always find us. This
lady is missing now. I am afraid they kidnapped her and they
set me up. I am afraid they may have killed her.”
The cops looked at each other and then they looked back at
me, then I realized that I could be in even greater trouble
now if the police make me a suspect. If she was just missing
then I couldn’t prove my innocence. Suddenly an even scarier
thought came into my mind. What if they had planted evidence
to make it look like I killed Linda? My thoughts were interrupted
by the policewoman that was driving.
“Can you give us her description?”
“Her name is Linda Sears. In late thirties or early forties.
Gorgeous lady. Long brown hair, green eyes, no kind of marks
or body art.” I avoided mentioning the fact that I had seen
the birth mark on the right of her belly button. “Around five
feet eight tall.”
“What was she wearing when you last saw her?” The question
the policewoman asked was only natural, but I wasn’t comfortable
answering it.
“I don’t think that would really help you. It was while since
I last saw her…”
“When was that?”
I realized that with every single word I spoke I was sinking
deeper into the mud of lies. But telling the truth could get
me even deeper into trouble. I tried to tell only the truth,
but I knew I wasn’t completely innocent and telling them what
had actually happened when I last saw Linda would damage me.
Still, I answered the question.
“Around eleven a.m. this morning.”
“That’s recent enough. What was she wearing?”
I thought for a few seconds and then decided to tell the truth.
“A hotel bathrobe.”
***
“Dear God, you really got yourself into trouble
this time.” Daniel couldn’t believe the genesis of events
that were probably starting to look like a movie to him.
“There is much more to story than you could expect.”
“Quite frankly it doesn’t look that bad. You are alive and
free.”
“There are worse things than being in jail or dead. Sometimes,
being alive and free is worst punishment. I wish you never
to experience it, although after everything you told me, I’d
say you deserve to go through it. You see, until you get there,
you cannot understand it.”
“You obviously handled it somehow.”
“At price, Daniel. I paid huge price.”
***
“She was in a bathrobe you say?” The policeman
grinned and took the radio microphone in his hand. “This is
571, we are having a UL 42.
Her name is Linda Sears, she is in late thirties, five feet
eight, long brown hair, green eyes.” The policeman turned
back to me. “What about her build?”
“Slim,” I said.
The policeman continued talking to the operator. “She is of
slim build. Her … friend…” the cop looked at me like he had
second thoughts about our relationship, “…reported her missing.
She could be just a runaway.” He stopped talking for a second
and then added casually, “Have you found any bodies that match
this description?”
The operator responded, “571, I will let you know as soon
as I get any info.”
“10-4.43 ” The policeman
put down the microphone and turned back to face me. “The Secret
Service you say?”
“Yes, Secret Service working for President of the United States.”
I said it in a way that was supposed to emphasize my David
versus Goliath situation. If they got Linda I was afraid they
would want me and Selma as well.
“Don’t worry, pal, you’re in safe hands now.”
At that moment a white, unmarked Ford van blocked our way
from a side street. I saw what was coming next in sheer panic.
Side doors opening and men in balaclavas and tracksuits opening
fire with automatic weapons.
I dived into the tiny space between the front and backseats,
squeezing myself as close to the floor as I could.
“Don’t move!” the policeman said already holding his gun in
his hands.
I heard the policewoman honking at the driver of the van.
I didn’t dare to look and didn’t want to move.
“They will kill us all!”
The policeman finally figured out what I was doing. He turned
back to look at the van. I was trembling on the floor in pure
fear when another surprise followed.
The police car moved! I fearfully got up to see that the white
van moved further. It may have been normal for New York, but
me being inexperienced in the Manhattan driving jungle, I
didn’t expect that this was just a regular routine.
The cop turned toward me and said, “Well you almost got me
there.” He smiled. “You probably thought that they were going
to kill us. When you dived on to the floor, you almost convinced
me that some Russian mafia guys were going to kill us and
set you free. But hey, we are all good, and actually we will
be at the station in a few minutes.”
***
39 - Prisoner in custody.
40 - Disturbance.
41 - No further assistance required.
42 - Unable to locate.
43 - OK.
