The other cop was well back with a gun on Heller.

The first cop opened Heller’s second case.

“Jesus!” screamed Mary. “Get me a fix! Can’t anybody hear me?” And then she leaned out of the backseat and began to dry vomit.

“Candy!” cried the first cop. “Dope concealed in candy!” He turned to the other cop. “You see, I knew there’d be dope here. They hide it in candy!”

He gingerly evaded more fishhooks and untangled a candy bag from fishing line. He opened the bag and took out a piece. He got a jackknife from his pocket and cut the sweet in half. He touched one of the halves to his tongue.

Disappointed, he threw the cut pieces and the paper in the general direction of a Don’t Litter! sign. He got another bag open and did the same thing.

“Ah, hell,” he said. “It’s just candy-type candy.”

The second cop said, “Joe, I figure if there was any dope in that baggage, this dame wouldn’t be going through withdrawal.”

The first cop closed Heller’s grip and then hauled out Mary’s suitcase and got it open. “Hurray!” he shouted. “I knew it! Here’s a dope kit complete!” And he held it up so his partner and the park patrolman could see it. “This is illegal as hell even if there is no dope! I knew I could catch them out!”

Oh, Heller, I prayed. Just keep on lying there. Don’t do anything.

Mary had come out of a spasm of dry retching. She tried to get to the first cop, “That’s my kit! I’m a doctor! My diploma is right in that bag!”

The first cop didn’t even bother to push her back into the car and she collapsed, dangling half out of it.

The first cop disgustedly found it. “She’s right.” He dropped the suitcase shut and stood up. “Aw, (bleep), there’s no smack here.”

The second cop gestured with his gun to Heller. “You can get up, kid. You’re clean.”

I sagged with relief. I knew exactly what the prisoner felt when they told him he had been reprieved.

Heller got to his feet. He went over and tried to get Mary back into the car.

Heller suddenly saw a plain, green sedan quietly roll up and stop. The first cop said, “Oh, (bleep). It’s the FBI.”

Two very tough-looking characters got out. They wore box coats. Their hats were gangster-type hats.

As one, they drew and flashed their I.D. folders.

The first one had a puffy face and a sagging lower lip. “I’m Special Agent Stupewitz, FBI.”

The second one said, “Special Agent Maulin, FBI.” He was a huge, hulking brute of a man.

Stupewitz walked up to the park patrolman and the two DC. cops. “This is out-of-state business — Federal! Move aside!”

Maulin went around to the back of the car and read the license. “This is the car, all right. Look at that bullet hole!”

Stupewitz gestured a Colt .457 revolver at Heller. It looked like a cannon. “Stand up and face that car, kid. Put your hands on the roof and spread-eagle, legs apart.”

Heller did as he was told. That artillery could have blown him apart!

The first D.C. cop said, “He’s just a hitchhiker. This is the woman’s car.”

Maulin said, “Filled with bags of dope.”

The second D.C. cop said, “There’s nothing in the bags but cameras and fishing gear. There ain’t even any dope in the candy.”

Stupewitz said, “You’ve got it all wrong, brother. That’s why you locals have to have the support of the FBI. Without us, you’d just breeze along in total peace!”

Maulin said, “We got the whole story from Virginia.”

I thought, well, Gris, it’s too late to make a will now! Heller will be finished so quick, there won’t be time.

Stupewitz had his gun trained on Heller. “What’s your name, kid?”

Mary came to, threshing about. “Don’t talk to them kid!”

Heller didn’t answer Stupewitz.

Stupewitz said, “Kid, do you realize it’s a felony not to give your name to a Federal officer?”

Heller didn’t answer.

Stupewitz made a signal to Maulin. Maulin drew his gun from his back belt, trained it on Heller from a distance. Stupewitz stepped up to Heller and began to frisk him.

I was certain I knew what was coming now. It was too late even to pray.

Stupewitz got to the papers in Heller’s jacket. He yanked them out. He looked at them.

Suddenly Stupewitz drew off to the side, away from the other cops and Heller. He made a frantic beckon to Maulin. Maulin kept his gun on Heller but sidled around to get close to Stupewitz.

I frantically turned up more gain. I got wind in the trees. I got some birds. I got the far-off siren of an ambulance getting louder. But I couldn’t make out anything Stupewitz or Maulin were saying as they examined the papers. I could see them whispering but as they were using their lips the way criminals do, talking from the side of the mouth, I couldn’t even read the words.

An ambulance came up. It was marked GEORGETOWN HOSPITAL.

The attendants offloaded in a flash of white and stretchers. They opened the opposite door of the car, looked in at Mary and then grabbed her. She was so far gone, she didn’t even fight. She did manage a faint, “So long, kid.”

Heller, despite FBI orders, ducked down his head and yelled, “NO! Don’t kill her!”

An attendant glanced up from trying to get Mary straight so they could get her out of the car and onto the stretcher. “Kill her? You’re dead wrong, sonny. She needs our help. We’ll take good care of her.”

Heller said, “You promise not to kill her?”

“Sure, kid,” said the attendant. And they had Mary on the stretcher. Stupewitz sidled to the attendant, whispered something, showed his badge. The attendant shrugged.

Heller looked toward Maulin. “Can I put her bag in that ambulance?”

Maulin made a tight wave with his gun. Heller got her purse and bag, walked over to the ambulance and put them in. The ambulance rolled away with Heller staring after it.

Stupewitz came back. He was pointing to the government car. “Get in there, kid.”

Heller didn’t. He walked over and closed his bags and put them in the trunk of the Cadillac and locked it, pocketing the separate key. Stupewitz then urged him into the front passenger seat of the government car.

Maulin got under the wheel of the Cadillac. He drove off.

Heller said, “NO! Our car!”

Stupewitz said, “Stop worrying. It’s going to the FBI garage.”

The DC. cops and park patrolman were muttering and shaking their heads.

So was I!

Stupewitz started the government car and they sped away.

The jaws of the Federal Bureau of Investigation had closed on Jettero Heller. And the worst of it was, typically, they didn’t even realize they had the fate of the planet between their vicious teeth! Stupid (bleepards)!

They got out at the FBI building on Pennsylvania Avenue and someone whisked the car away.

Stupewitz said, “Don’t try to run. You could get shot.”

But Heller was not running. He was looking up at the gray-green marble facade and spelling out the HUGE, raised, gold-lettered sign that said:

The letters were feet high and it spread so wide he had to turn his head to read it.

“Are we going to call on J. Edgar Hoover?” said Heller.

“Don’t be a smart (bleep), kid.”

Heller said, “But I really never heard of him.”

That got to Stupewitz. “Jesus! They sure don’t teach history anymore!” He came very close to Heller and thrust his puffy face forward. “Look, you heard of George Washington.” He pointed a quivering finger at the huge sign. “Well, J. Edgar Hoover was ten times what Washington ever was! The REAL savior of this country was HOOVER! Without him, the real rulers of this country couldn’t run it at all!” He gave Heller a hard shove toward the entrance and muttered to himself,

“Jesus, they don’t teach kids anything these days.”