“Ma’am,” he said cautiously, “I normally avoid this street, but traffic is terrible tonight. I hope you do not mind.”
Alicia leaned forward slightly. “Why avoid it,” she asked calmly. “Is there a problem here.”
The driver hesitated before answering. “There is a patrol unit that stops cars here almost every night. The officer in charge is known among drivers. He fines people without cause and demands cash. If you argue, he causes trouble or takes your car. I have seen it happen many times.”
Alicia listened carefully, her expression unchanged. “Has this happened to you before.”
The driver nodded. “Not yet, but I know others. I have children. This taxi is everything I have.”
Before Alicia could respond, flashing lights appeared ahead. An officer stood by the curb with several subordinates, motioning vehicles to pull over. As the taxi approached, the officer raised his hand sharply.
The taxi stopped.
The officer stepped forward, his face already hardened with irritation. His name was Patrick Lowell, a precinct supervisor whose reputation rarely reached official reports but was well known on the street.
“Driver, get out,” Lowell ordered. “Do you think you own the road.”