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- I was shooting heroin and reading “The Fountainhead” in the front seat of my privately owned police cruiser when a call came in. I put a quarter in the radio to activate it. It was the chief.
- “Bad news, detective. We got a situation.”
- “What? Is the mayor trying to ban trans fats again?”
- “Worse. Somebody just stole four hundred and forty-seven million dollars’ worth of bitcoins.”
- The heroin needle practically fell out of my arm. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Bitcoins are the ultimate currency: virtual, anonymous, stateless. They represent true economic freedom, not subject to arbitrary manipulation by any government. Do we have any leads?”
- “Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to figure out who did this and we’re going to take them down … provided someone pays us a fair market rate to do so.”
- “Easy, chief,” I said. “Any rate the market offers is, by definition, fair.”
- He laughed. “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski. Now you get out there and find those bitcoins.”
- “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”
- I put a quarter in the siren. Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by public sidewalks. I hopped over them and went inside.
- “Home Depot™ Presents the Police!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Ron Paul. “Nobody move unless you want to!” They didn’t.
- “Now, which one of you punks is going to pay me to investigate this crime?” No one spoke up.
- “Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of private property is the foundation of all personal liberty?” It didn’t seem like they did.
- “Seriously, guys. Without a strong economic motivator, I’m just going to stand here and not solve this case. Cash is fine, but I prefer being paid in gold bullion or autographed Penn Jillette posters.”
- Nothing. These people were stonewalling me. It almost seemed like they didn’t care that a fortune in computer money invented to buy drugs was missing.
- I figured I could wait them out. I lit several cigarettes indoors. A pregnant lady coughed, and I told her that secondhand smoke is a myth. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.
- “Subway™ Eat Fresh and Freeze, Scumbag!®” I yelled.
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