I’m a sensible man and being bundled out onto the street outside the hat display meant I was in the right part of Bendaton to speak to an open minded contact of mine. He was the kind of man who could acquire certain goods which less open minded, childish proles would consider to be in some way unusual. But, being an open minded (and sensibly priced) merchant, he was next on my list of places to visit. I wrote down exactly what I wanted for Donald’s Christmas gift in my sensible leather covered note book. It is as well to be accurate on such occasions.

“Hello Mr Jones” I said, greeting him warmly.

“Ah Mr Brent – I’m afraid the new issue of Elk and Efficiency isn’t in yet.”

“I’m not here to purchase E&E” I said, cleverly saving time by using the publication’s initials, “I’m after this particular item. I handed him a carefully clipped page from my sensible note book.

“This is very specialised” he told me.

“But you have one I hope.”

“It’ll be rather more expensive than a copy of Elk and Efficiency” he joked. I say “joked” but there is no place in sensible society for jokes about items costing considerable sums of money.

“How much?” I asked, clenching my buttocks with the tension of the moment.

“Forty three pounds plus two pounds for a discrete bag to carry it home in.”

“That’s a sizable sum.”

“We could put it on your account” he suggested.

“A very sensible idea. I can then pay it off in reasonable monthly amounts.”

“Precisely.”

“Then I’ll take it. Kindly wrap it discretely and I’ll take it with me.”

“Splendid, Mr Brent. What are your plans for the Christmas period?”

“I will be spending it with Wicks, Grantham, Ian Devine and possibly Felicity Bobbins.”

“A real party” he beamed.

“I shouldn’t think so – Wicks, Grantham and Ian Devine are very dull men.”

“You should see some of the things they buy from me” began Mr Jones before he sensibly covered his indiscretion with a manly cough. I know I wouldn’t want my open minded interests spread all over Bendaton and as such I respected Wicks, Grantham and Ian Devine in their privacy. I made a mental note to sneak in after closing time and have a look at Mr Jones’ book. He calls it his “Black Male Log” which I assume is a reference to the fact that the book is black and he is male. I can’t think of any other explanation. He returned from the back of the shop with my parcel wrapped in good old brown paper and good British string. Waiting in “Mr Jones’ Open Minded Emporium” had given me time to think about Miss Bobbins, Dodgy Barry and that whole messy business. He was asking for a lot of money but, when compared to the value of my collection, the sum was nugatory. I had one hundred and sixty eight thousand, five hundred and twelve pounds four pence in my Bendaton Bank current account and could therefore afford this large (but thankfully one off) payment. I went back to the hat display and searched for Dodgy Barry.

“Ah HA” called a voice from behind me. I swivelled round and brandished my free hand as if to launch some hitherto unsuspected martial art upon my assailant. I first noticed the shiny helmet, then the gormless face and finally the large weapon which could only mean Constable Forkwitt.

“We meet again, Mr Paris” said the Constable.

“Sorry?” I said, playing for time.

“Don’t play for time, Mr Paris, I’m here to arrest you on suspicion.”

“Suspicion of what?”

“You came into the police station earlier and asked for certain information. I cunningly gave you that information as part of a plan to entrapmentise you. Later on I found the piece of paper on which I had written the information down – for the files – and cleverly laid in wait for you.”

“You mean you saw me negotiating with Dodgy Barry earlier?” I gasped.

“Earlier? I must’ve dozed off. It’s these shoes – they make me terribly sleepy.”

“Then you don’t have any evidence against me?”

“I have three pieces of evidence against you, Mr Paris, namely that you did, firstly, ask me about a well known arms dealer.”

“Drug dealer” I corrected out of habit.

“Thank you, Mr Paris, drug dealer. Secondly that you did confess to me having negotiated with the said drug dealer and thirdly that you did return to the scene of the crime at which point you were apprehended by myself and the drugs team.”

“Drugs team?” I said, looking round for burley men who would pull me off without so much as a warning.

“Bum” he cursed. “I’ve come out without my drugs team. I’ll just have to arrest you myself.”

“But I haven’t bought any drugs yet – that’s why I came back…” I said, biting my lip but almost certainly too late for Constable Forkwitt.

“Right. Let’s have a think about this. You buy the drugs then I can arrest you. Would that be ok?”

“Hmm. How about I leave without buying any drugs?”

“Then I’d have to arrest you for wasting police time. You got me here to catch you in the act of buying drugs and now you won’t buy any drugs. If that isn’t wasting police time then Bob’s my uncle.”

“Have you seen Dodgy Barry about the place?” I asked, eager to find someone who might help me escape.

“Of course not – I was on stakeout so I didn’t want to be seen.”

“Stakeout means you can see them but they can’t see you, surely” I pointed out.

“That defies the laws of physics as well you know” replied the Constable.

“There he is – over by ‘Cloth Caps Through the Ages’” I observed.

“Then get over there and buy some drugs so I can arrest you, Mr Paris” said Constable Forkwitt. He stroked his weapon in a menacing fashion.

15:59:58

15:59:59