I could unlock the cuffs or ankle shackles, but I didn't trust Paulson. I could call for help, but I'd be the brunt of cop humor for days. The back door leading to the docket lieutenant was less than fifty feet away. We were in the parking lot adjacent to the municipal building. Unfortunately, when I attempted to get Martin out of my car he'd tipped over and was now rollingaround on his belly, trussed up like a Christmas goose, unable to right himself. I'd even managed to drive Martin to the police station on North Clinton Avenue. I'd managed to get Martin into cuffs and leg shackles and into my car. Martin had, in fact, been at home engaged in what he does best. Since Martin is not too bright, he hadn't been too hard to find. He failed to show for his court appearance last week, and this put Martin on my Most Wanted List.

Martin Paulson, weighing in at 350 pounds and standing 5'8' tall, was arrested for credit card fraud and for being a genuinely obnoxious person. Unfortunately, today wasn't most of the time. And if done right, cuts back on the rolling around on the ground stuff. To encourage fugitive cooperation on the way back to the pokey I usually persuade the guys I capture to wear handcuffs and leg shackles. It wouldn't be such a bad job except the direct result of bond enforcement is usually incarceration ?and fugitives tend to not like this. bond enforcement, to be exact, working for my cousin Vincent Plum. My name is Stephanie Plum, and I'm in the fugitive apprehension business. The rolling around is what happens when a bust goes crapolla and there's a last ditch effort to hog tie a big, dumb bad guy possessing a congenitally defective frontal lobe. The rolling around has nothing to do with my sex life. Lately, I've been spending a lot of time rolling on the ground with men who think a stiffy represents personal growth.

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