Mr Foreigner and the police ( Short story)

𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨! 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨! 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨!
“Police! Open the door!”
“Coming!”
I quickly stashed the papers I was reading in my safe but didn’t have time to clean off the kitchen table before opening the door to my apartment. I felt the heat from outside and it wasn’t pleasant.
“Good morning Mr. Sinclair. May I come in?”
The officer was dressed in a dark-blue, well-tailored suit from which he quickly removed and flashed his ID.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, you do not.”
He entered.
“Who are you?”
“My name is José Ramírez. I have come to ask you some questions.”
“Who are you with?”
“The government.”
“Which office?”
“That is not important. I have some questions for you.”
Ramírez walked around my small living room and kitchen glancing over to the kitchen table when I saw my book and lighter sitting there.
“Mr. Sinclair. You were at the market last night. Who were talking to?”
“I don’t remember. I talked to a lot of people there. It’s part of my job.”
“Yes, your job. Exactly what is that?”
“I’m a cultural attache with the American government.”
“American culture? That is an oxymoron.”
He continued his inspection while talking.
“So you were promoting American culture or maybe something more?”
“I was discussing our foods with others.”
“Discussing anything else?”
“No.”
He removed a silver cigarette case from his suit coat and took out a cigarette.
“Do you have a lighter Mr. Sinclair?”
I glanced over to my lighter and book on the kitchen table.
“Sorry, I don’t smoke.”
Ramírez smiled and also looked over to my kitchen table.
“There is one.”
He picked up the lighter and book.
“Luttwak. Interesting reading.”
“A friend gave it me.”
“Who is your friend?”
“Someone at the embassy.”
“That is a dangerous book for you to have.”
“It’s just some light reading.”
“Maybe you are making plans?”
Again I replied. “No. I was talking about foods; Texas chili.”
“There has been much unrest in my city and you have this book. That is not good.”
He was right.
“I think you should go before I call the embassy.”
“Who said I was going to let you use the phone?”
He paused in thought.
“Mr. Sinclair. You are foreigner in a foreign land and should be careful who you associate with. Some people that say are your friends are not and those you mistrust might be helpful to you. You should remember that.”
He lit his cigarette. The smoke appeared thick and heavy in the light from the front windows.
“I thought you said you did not have a lighter?”
“I said I didn’t smoke.”
Ramírez smiled.
“A man who chooses his words carefully. You were well-trained.”
“I was an English major. That’s my training.”
“Since you do not smoke why I have this?”
Think. Think. Think.
“I use it to light the stove.”
That was my calling card and I didn’t want to lose it. That lighter could open a lot doors and be a danger to my friends in the wrong hands.
Ramírez put the book and lighter back down on the table.
“I would like to invite you to breakfast.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, you do not.”

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