The minute Blair stepped out onto the sidewalk, he was surprised to see Officer Follen on the opposite side of the street and staring at him as if he were a wanted man. Blair shrugged it off, knowing that Follen didn’t like him and therefore expected some degree of harassment from him. So Blair merely pulled up his collar and walked on.
Follen crossed the street and started sprinting over to where Blair was. “Hey, you!” he said, pointing a nightstick at him. “Stop!” Follen brought a couple of cars to a screeching halt as he rushed over. One of the drivers honked his horn in protest.
Without thinking, Blair took off running. He ducked into an alley, ran through to the other end, and then crawled under a parked car. Officer Follen followed him into the alley and then came out on the other side as well. As Blair laid on his back under the automobile, he watched Follen’s well-polished shoes turn from one direction to the next as if undecided about where to go from there. Unfortunately for Blair, the car he was under was leaking oil, but the inconvenience would have been worth it if he managed to dodge the flatfoot.
Officer Follen finally darted off toward a side street, so Blair waited until the slapping of his shoes against the pavement was some distance away before crawling out from under the car. Cautiously Blair peered over the hood of the blue Ford Taurus, and then stood up when he was sure that the policeman was out of sight.