Snippet #2151731

It had been a quiet couple of days, that should have been a good thing, but it always unsettled Marshal. "Come on sarge, don't we want no crime? Isn't that the whole point of this cop thing?"
He nodded in agreement with the private, he knew that's what he should think but he also knew better. A quiet third district was just a third district where crime was going unseen and undealt with.
He stood in the doorway of the Rusty Nail, his favorite local bar, holding a half empty beer, staring into the street. Where were they? The murderers, the thieves, the rapists. Where were the people that would eventually ruin his day? "Come on Marcus. Get it together. No news is the best news," he said under his breath. As he turned to go back inside it caught his eye. Across the street just behind the barrel, a shoe.
Marshal finished his beer in a gulp, set down the mug, and crossed the street. Bending over to look it was a child's shoe, a little girls based on the bow over the buckle. But where was it's one shoed owner?
Nothing to see really, looked like most alleys in the neighborhood, well worn, damp, foot and hoof prints everywhere. So nothing to see, listen. Sounds of a family eating upstairs, horse trotting by, whimpering. There. It was coming from a half open gate just ahead.
Despite the stone streets and boots he insisted on wearing everywhere he moved in relative silence, an ability that he was proud he was good at. What's that sound? Another voice, "Don't worry sweetheart, I'm not going to hurt you."
Marshal was next to the gate, the crack open was just large enough to get a good look around. A small courtyard behind the butcher's shop, no windows to see this time of day. A man in a long coat huddled over a small ogre girl. "Pretty little thing", Marshal thought for a second.
At first thought the play was slow, sneak up, catch him unaware. That was the play, till he saw the knife.
In a flash Marshal was up, whip out and flying through the air, the end nearly instantly wrapped around the man's arm. In one good tug he was pulled away and laying flat on the ground.
The lawman walked up, determination in his step, and stopped at the man.
Flashing Bessie, "If you move one inch, I'll blow your damned head off."
The little girl was scared, real scared, but that's the miracle of the badge, it makes the victims feel better. Marshal lifted the girl and carried her to the open gate.
"Did that man hurt you?" She shook her head no, too traumatized to talk.
"Do you live near here?" She pointed out a window on the second floor of the next building.
"Run home ok. I'm gonna handle the bad man then come see if you're ok, ok?" Without a single thought she took off running.
The lawman stood straight and watched her go. As soon as he felt like she was home free he turned back to the man. Now standing and up against the wall, shaking hand holding a knife towards the badge.
"You're gonna pay for this cop!"
"Shut up." The man went silent. Taking a few strong steps at the man Marshal spoke, "You picked the right time of day, everyone is eating but if a kid is late for dinner thats not unusual. You found a perfectly secluded courtyard, butcher's shop is closed for the day. You grabbed her in plain sight on a busy street and not a singly person noticed. You've done this before."
The man looked taken back by the policeman's deductions. "Good luck proving that in your report!"
"Oh there won't be a report."
A hour later Marshal came wondering back in to the bar. "Where ya been sarge? Thought you had passed out in a gutter or something."
"Well thanks for lookin for me then." The boys laugh. "Nah, I was just takin out the trash is all."