Suckers - J.A. Konrath

"Just how old are you?"
"All right, knock it off," I said. "I don't need to be lectured by somebody who goes into
cannibalistic rages."
We sat in silence for a long moment.
"So what now?" asked Jervis.
"I'm not quite sure," I said.
We sat in silence for another long moment.
"I guess we leave," I decided.
"That works for me," said Jervis. He removed a small pair of keys from his pocket and
tossed them to me. "Sorry about the handcuffs. They're meant for me. You know, when I get
those rage things."
I unlocked the cuffs. Roger immediately sat up and began vigorously rubbing his wrists,
trying to restore circulation.
"Don't worry," said Jervis. "I'll try to do better in the future. You're not going to tell anybody
about me, are you?"
"No, your secret is safe with us," I said.
"This is the police!" a voice shouted from above. "If anyone is down there, make yourselves
known!"
Jervis shrugged. "I'll get psychiatric help rather than jail, right?"
"Yeah, I think that's probably a safe bet."
"Okay. Could you guys maybe, you know, go up there and kind of plead my case before
they come down here? Maybe not your friend so much," he said, looking at me, "but you seem
nice enough."
"Sure," I said. "Come on, Roger."
We walked over to the ladder. "We'll be right up!" I announced.
* * *
Jervis was gone when the officers went down the ladder.
My first thought: "Oh my God, he was a ghost after all!"
My second thought: "Check the closet, moron."
They did. And the fake back wall revealed a small tunnel, which eventually emerged into the
pantry of the "abandoned" house next door.
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