It's a good thing Baldwin isn't a professional motivational speaker.
Even better, that he gets most of his desired effect anyway. More than one furtive whisper of 'police' ripples through the small crowd. Sidelong glances are exchanged, and people begin slipping away.
Across the street is The Ridge, and this isn't the best part of town. Most of the people? They'd rather avoid the police, thank you. The thought of giving statements, having their IDs checked, these are all Bad Things(tm). That, and this is obviously Someone Else's Problem(tm). Namely, the diner owner and staff's. Nobody here needs a side of Po Po with their burger. Or mac and cheese. Or even the Daily Special Meatloaf.
It doesn't take long for the crowd to quietly disperse, once the initial shock is over.
The cook is still rooted in place, eyes glued on Peter.
The tired waitress with her cheap phone is giving directions. A hand wipes at her eyes. The tears aren't for the victim. They're for the lost tips and long night ahead.
"We should go inside."
He's probably a busboy. And probably illegal. He looks even more scared than the cook.
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2 sux to CoN
