Free For Want of a Memory by Robert Lubrican

tires.
     
     
He picked up the phone to put out an APB.
     
     
----
     
     
Mitch didn't ask to see the patient. He just went to the room. He looked at the guy, who was sitting up now. Some of the bandages had been removed from his head, too, and now both eyes were visible. The guy was just sitting there, staring straight ahead. The TV was on, but he didn't seem to be watching it.
     
     
Jess had given him a call, to let him know the guy was awake. She said he couldn't remember much. That was very convenient for somebody who'd been in a gun battle. He pushed the door open.
     
     
"Howdy," he said, putting a goofy smile on his face. He liked the Columbo approach, because it actually worked. Criminals always thought they were smarter than the law. That's why they went into crime. They were almost always wrong about that, but he didn't want this man to think he was on the ball. Not yet. The fact that the department let them wear jeans with their uniform shirts added to the image of small-town dumb cop sometimes as well.
     
     
"Got yourself sort of banged up, didn't you?" he said amiably. "How you feeling?"
     
     
"I'm okay," said the man.
     
     
"I just need to finish my report," said Mitch. "Just need to ask a few questions."
     
     
"Okay," said the man.
     
     
"What's your name, for one thing?"
     
     
"I don't remember."
     
     
Mitch was trying to watch the artery that ran up the throat on both sides of the neck. While liars could train their eyes not to give them away, they generally couldn't control their pulse. He was distracted by an accent he couldn't quite place, but which sounded familiar.
     
     
"No idea at all?" asked Mitch.
     
     
"They said you found my billfold," said the man.
     
     
"Sure did," said Mitch smiling. Now he recognized it. It was either British or Australian. He wasn't sure which.
     
     
"Wasn't my name in that?"
     
     
"Sure was," said Mitch, still smiling.
     
     
"Then I don't understand," said the man. "If you know my name, why are you asking me what it is? And why won't anybody around here tell me my name? Am I famous or something?"
     
     
"No," said Mitch immediately. "Well, I say no, because I never heard of you before. But we're kind of remote up here in the far reaches."
     
     
"Far reaches of where?" asked the man. "Where am I, anyway? Why won't anybody tell me anything?"
     
     
Mitch stepped closer. He was going to watch the pupils this time. The pulse wasn't telling him anything.
     
     
"Tell me about the accident," he said.
     
     
He got a reaction there. The pupils pinpointed briefly and the patient was silent for about a second and a half too long.
     
     
"I don't remember an accident," said the man.
     
     
Mitch stepped back. He turned around, got the chair, and moved it closer to the bed. It would put him below the suspect - he was now a suspect - but maybe that would make the man relax and slip up. He sat down.
     
     
"The doc pulled glass out of your face," he said softly.
     
     
"Look," said the man. "I woke up here. My car is wherever they found me, as far as I know. I don't even know if I have a car, to be honest. But you're the police. Surely you went to the scene of the accident."
     
     
"Oh, I've been to the scene," admitted Mitch. "But I need to hear your side of it."
     
     
"What did the other guy say?" asked the man.
     
     
Mitch settled back in the chair. This guy was giving all kinds of conflicting signals. First he lied ... or appeared to lie ... and then he told Mitch where to find his car ... sort of. His comment about not knowing if he had a car looked completely genuine, from the body language and voice. Then he tried to get information as to what evidence there was against him. Half of what he did suggested guilty knowledge, but the other half made it look like he really did have amnesia.
     
     
"What am I being charged with?" asked the man suddenly.
     
     
"Nothing," said Mitch. "Not right now, anyway."
     
     
That brought what was