Mr. Chalk 2

2

Earlier that day, Deputy Groves sat in his patrol car idly watching the traffic pass through his town of Florence, Florida. It had been oppressively hot the last few days as Groves parked by the main highway checking for speeders. He sighed and shifted his gaze from the radar monitor, towards the landscape in the distance. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, sighed again and continued to look down the road. A small four door sedan passed Groves, disappearing down the highway. In his heat induced state, Groves almost missed seeing it. He sat up and squinted through the windshield. “That car is missing its licence plate,” he thought.

“Finally,” said Groves to himself as he started the patrol car. He hit the siren and roof lights, slammed the car into drive and stomped the gas pedal. The urgency to accelerate the cruiser was not so much to apprehend the suspect but to create a breeze inside the car. “At last,” thought Deputy Groves, “fresh air.” His attempt at air conditioning was short lived, as he was soon behind the four door sedan.

The driver of the sedan moved to the side of the road, stopped and turned off his engine.

“So far, so good,” thought Groves as he got out of his car and moved cautiously towards the sedan. Glancing into the rear window, Groves saw a single driver and no passengers. Slowly the deputy moved up to the driver’s side window, his right hand on the handle of his service revolver.

“Good day sir,” said Groves to the driver, “do you know why I stopped you?”

The driver turned his head and looked up at Groves. “No,” the driver replied, “is something wrong?”

“You're driving a vehicle without a licence plate,” replied Deputy Groves, “and now I’m going to need to see some identification.”

“Why, I’m Mr. Chalk,” replied the driver, “and I’m so pleased we have met.”

Groves looked down at the smiling driver and slowly shook his head. “I’m gonna need more ID than that,” he replied and stepped back from the car door. “Please get out of the car sir,” he said motioning Mr. Chalk to exit the car.

Mr. Chalk opened the door and was now standing in front of Deputy Groves. His tailored suit and formal cut shirt were perfectly matched to his silk tie, diamond cufflinks and deeply shined shoes. The coordinates of the outfit fit Mr. Chalk’s frame perfectly as he stood patiently in front of Deputy Groves.

Groves studied Mr. Chalk standing in front of him. “It looks like you're on a business trip,” said Groves.

“Indeed,” replied Mr. Chalk, “in fact, I thought I was going to be late for my appointment, but now that you have stopped me, I should be there in ample time.”

Groves stared at Mr. Chalk. “That didn’t make any sense at all,” he thought, “the heat must really be getting to me.”

Ignoring Mr. Chalk’s last statement, Groves motioned for Mr. Chalk to turn around. “I’m placing you under protective custody. You’re not under arrest. This is just for your protection and mine,” said Groves. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“Certainly,” smiled Mr. Chalk as Deputy Groves handcuffed Mr. Chalk and walked him back to the patrol car.

“I need to check your pockets for identification papers,” said Groves as he leaned Mr. Chalk against the patrol car. “Do you have any needles or sharp objects on you?” asked Groves.

“I don’t carry anything in my pockets,” said Mr. Chalk, “my tailor told me it would bag the material.”

Deputy Groves carefully frisked Mr. Chalk and then placed him in the rear seat of the cruiser. “Just sit tight for a couple of minutes,” said Groves, “I need to check your vehicle.”

The interior of Mr. Chalk’s car was spotless. “This is too clean,” thought Deputy Groves, “even the glove compartment looks vacuumed.”

After thoroughly searching the interior, trunk and even the engine compartment, Groves returned to the patrol car and opened the back door.

“Ok,” said Groves to Mr. Chalk, “this is weird.”

Mr. Chalk looked up and smiled as Deputy Groves continued.  “You have absolutely no identification on you. Your car is spotless. Better than spotless. It looks like it just came off the show room floor and yet it has fifty thousand miles on it. I can’t find any personal identification, car registration, insurance or licence plates.”

“Why is that Mr. Chalk?” asked Deputy Groves.

“I like to travel light,” replied Mr. Chalk.

“I see you have a sense of humour,” smiled Deputy Groves. “With that keen sense of ha-ha, your gonna like it in our Dodd County Jail. It’s a regular chuckle hut.”