MY NAME IS KEVIN

Kevin read the newspaper account of his liquor store stick up. The reporter theorized citing his source as the liquor store clerk, that a customer who may not have had a permit to carry a gun shot and killed the holdup man in self-defense. Kevin read the news man's bold print direct quote out loud: “The customer bystander fled for fear of a jail sentence violating Connecticut's strict handgun law.”

Kevin laughed and then immediately had a sobering thought. The reporter might have considered that a correct reason but he would bet anything the police did not. The detectives in Prichard were known for their fastidious attention to detail and had a successful high apprehension rate–except in his case. The media had been questioning a female detective, Sergeant Doreen Pousant, and not the puffed up Lieutenant Chief of detectives–Felix Pimple-something. He looked at the calendar taped to his refrigerator and tapped on the circled Friday with his right index finger. Kevin tried not to project a regular agenda between his robberies. Tomorrow was Friday and he would go back to an ATM machine and hopefully catch an isolated ATM user. Tonight he would go early to the AA meeting at St Raphael’s and make sure he had memorable pre-meeting discussions with the smokers and early AA attendees.