My Authoritative Finger

Water? says Simone.

The Spanish policeman picks up the glass.

You're welcome to a goat's cheese and spinach pie, says Simone.

Not for me, says the policeman. Water is fine.

He drinks some.

Ahh, that better. Now where was I?

You were trying to determine whether the sword was obtained by consent, says Sartre.

And why should that matter? asks Simone.

Saint Elias claims he gave it up while in a state of delirium, says Sartre.

Like when he killed people, says Terence.

And whirled up into heaven, says Arthur. 

I see, says Simone. But hasn't the policeman been shown a receipt for the purchase?

He has, says Sartre.

Simone looks at the policeman.

And the saint would have been holding his sword at the time?

I assume so, says the policeman.

Therefore the icon including the sword is the legal property of my husband, says Simone. And he may do what he likes with it. Including what he did do.

He didn't do it, says Terence. I did.

Oho! says the policeman.

With my full consent, says Sartre. We realised that the saint's finger was much too small to replace the dead claw.

You had considered removing the finger? says the policaman.

But we did not remove it, says Sartre.

Saint Elias remembers it now. 

How it was when he thought he would lose his left pointing finger.

The finger is more important to him than the sword.

The finger makes him look like an authoritative figure. A knower of things. Such as where heaven is.

Upwards. 

After all, he has been there.

And is there still, in spirit form, ready to be asked things.

Such as: Please let my plane avoid turbulence, terrorists and high flying gulls.

I wish to announce I have no issue, says Saint Elias.

What did he say? asks the policeman.

What did you say? asks Bowl.

I have no issue with the loss of my sword, says Saint Elias. I don't need it nowadays. I am happy to have retained my authoritative finger.

I hope you heard what he said, says Bowl. Because it was too long for me to repeat it.

I heard what he said, says the policeman. Well then, case closed.

Bravo! says Simone. NOW perhaps you'll have a goat's cheese and spinach pie, before they all disappear.

They are not disappearing, says Sartre. Why didn't you order more meat ones?

I though you'd had enough meat ones, says Simone.

Prawn ones, then, says Sartre.

Simone thrusts the plate at the policeman.

The policeman accepts a small pie.

Whirling Heavenwards

I need him to answer more questions, says the Spanish policeman.

He needs to ask you more questions, says Bowl.

I heard him, says Saint Elias.

He heard you, says Bowl.

Ask him, says Terence.

Which him? asks the policeman.

Come on, man, says Sartre. Ask your question. 

Yes, says Federico. We're all listening.

It's true. Even Arthur, Sweezus and Toyshop are listening.

Very well, says the policeman. First question. What do you mean by delirium?

Runny poo, says Terence.

I'm not asking you, says the policeman.

And you're wrong anyway, says Sweezus. 

Sorry, says Terence.

He was asking me, says Saint Elias. 

Yes, says Bowl. What's your answer?

By delirium I mean a fit of holy madness, says Saint Elias.

He means holy madness, says Bowl.

A fit of, says Terence,

I heard that, says the policeman. Ask him if he's had them before.

Have you had them before? asks Bowl.

Not for some time, says Saint Elias. The delirium would descend upon me moments before I slew a false prophet. 

Hmmm, says the policeman. Any other times?

Any other times? asks Bowl.

Yes, says Saint Elias. When whirling heavenwards on my chariot of fire.

Fairly natural, says Sweezus.

Why is this even relevant? asks Sartre. Surely all you need to determine is that a state of delirium is compatible with giving his sword up willingly.

Simone cames back with a plate of mini goat's cheese and spinach pies, and a large glass of water.

The Spanish policeman is glad of the interruption.

Moment Of Delirium

Does it speak? asks the Spanish policeman.

I don't think so, says Sartre.

He does speak! says Bowl.

Perhaps he speaks only to toys, says the policeman.

Why not try him? suggests Simone.

The Spanish policeman does not wish to be seen interviewing an icon. 

So he turns his attention to Bowl.

You claim he speaks, says the policeman.

Yes! squeaks Bowl.

Don't be nervous, says Toyshop. 

I'm not nervous, says Bowl. 

You sound nervous, says Toyshop. 

Dont worry, says Terence. It's just Victor.

It isn't, says the policeman. Please allow me to do my job without interference.

Is it all right if I go and order more tapas? asks Simone.

Certainly, senora,  says the policeman.

Can I order you anything? asks Simone.

Perhaps a water, says the policeman.

He turns back to Bowl.

Would you mind asking Saint Elias if he gave up his sword willingly?

No, says Bowl.

No? says the policeman.

I wouldn't mind, says Bowl.

Ask him, says Terence.

Bowl is not too far away from where Saint Elias is lying.

Excuse me, says Bowl.

Yes? says Saint Elias. 

The policemen wants to know if you gave your sword willingly to Terence.

I could say no, says Saint Elias.

He could say no, says Bowl.

Is that his answer? asks the policeman.

No it isn't, says Terence.

No interference from you! says the policeman.

But, says Saint Elias.

But, says Bowl.

But I did loosen my grip on it, says Saint Elias.

Deliberately or inadvertently? Think before you answer, says the policeman.

In a moment of delirium, says Saint Elias.

This opens a new can of worms, says the policeman.

False People

 How did you come by that finger? asks the Spanish policeman.

Glue, says Terence.

That is not what I meant, says the policeman. Where did it come from?

Saint Liar, says Terence. It was his sword.

He means Saint Elias, says Sweezus.

This one, says Sartre, indicating Saint Elias who lies on the table, near the last garlic prawn.

Would you like the last prawn? asks Terence.

Gracias, but no, I'm on duty , says the policeman.

Nice of Terence to offer, says Simone.

It was, agrees the policeman. Unless he was trying to divert my attention.

Was I? asks Terence.

I didn't say you were, says the policeman. But it's something policemen have to consider.

Can I try and make a hole in the drink bottle with my sword finger? asks Terence.

NO! cry the Fuzzballs.

No, says Victor. I have finished that line of enquiry. I'm more interested in this sword finger.

It's a good finger, says Terence. Before, I had a claw, but it died.

Gangrene? asks the policeman.

No, brown, says Terence. It was my blood brother's. HE died.

I see, says the policeman. 

Should he be making notes? It's a complex story.

So Sarty went to get me a new finger, says Terence. And he got me Saint Liar.

I BOUGHT him, says Sartre. 

I know, says the policeman. You are no longer under suspicion.

But it was too small, says Terence. So I got the sword instead.

Where was the sword exactly ? asks the policeman.

Saint Liar was holding it, says Terence. He used it for killing false people.

False prophets, says Sweezus. Not false people.

As if there might be false people, laughs Simone. 

Aliens, says Arthur. They might be false people. Who wants that last prawn?

I think you'll agree no crime has been committed, says Sartre. And no misdemeanour.

Unless it's a crime to deface a holy icon, says Federico.

To be honest, I'm not sure of the legal niceties, says the policeman.

He wanted me to have it, says Terence. Ask him.

Saint Elias is pleased that Terence has included him in this matter.

After all, it was once his sword.

And, although at the time he released it willingly....

... now he is feeling unbalanced.

So what will he say?.

Toy Water

The Spanish policeman goes back inside.

It can't hurt to do what's expected.

Hello Victor, says Terence, who has noticed him first.

I am not Victor, says the Spanish policeman.

That's what you say, says Terence.

I do say, says the policeman. 

I thought you came back to tell us you were Victor, says Terence.

Why would I do that? asks the policeman.

So you wouldn't be lying, says Terence.

Enough of this, says the policeman. I've come back because further information has come to light. Where is the saint box?

Here, says Sweezus. 

Open it, says the policeman. And then open the handbag.

Okay, says Sweezus. 

He opens the box and takes out the tiny handbag.

He opens the handbag.

The policeman looks in.

He lifts out the tiny drink bottle, and hands it to Sweezus.

Take the top off, says the policeman.

Sweezus tries to take the top off.

But it is a tiny toy drink bottle and the top won't screw off.

It's only a toy one, says Sweezus.

Give it to me, says the policeman. 

He tries to twist the top, but it soon becomes obvious that the top is just part of  the bottle.

And will never screw off.

Can you explain why a toy handbag is inside a saint box? asks the policeman.

I can, says Terence.

Go on, says the policeman.

Because the Fuzzballs were in it, says Terence. And it's their handbag.

Fuzzballs? asks the policeman.

Terence points at the Fuzzballs who are half hidden behind a large plate of broccoli and cheese tapas which no one has eaten.

The policeman reaches over to pick up the two Fuzzballs.

Which one of these bears owns the handbag? asks the policeman.

He is surprised when they answer.

Me, says Toyshop.

Yes, him, says Bowl.

Why do you own a drink bottle that can never have anything in it? asks the policeman.

It does have something in it, says Toyshop. But the something can never come out.

It's probably toy water, says Terence.

Toy water could come out, says the policeman.

How? asks Terence.

Make a hole in it with something sharp, says the policeman.

Like my sword finger, says Terence. 

That's not sharp, says Sweezus. 

But too late!

The policeman turns his attention to Terence's finger.

What Would She Put In It?

The Spanish policeman has gone back outside.

A few people are still filming the bicycle.

Move along there, says the policeman.

Did you find the stolen box? asks someone.

Was it you who reported it stolen? asks the policeman. 

No, but I was here when it happened, says the person.

It wasn't stolen, says the policeman. They had a receipt.

What about the Messenger? asks another person.

No one is expected to keep a receipt for a parrot, says the policeman.

Maybe what was INSIDE the box was stolen, suggests another person.

Yes, did you look inside? asks the person who asked about the parrot.

Of course, says the policeman. The icon was no longer inside, just a tiny handbag.

I thought it was a saint box! says someone. Which saint has a tiny handbag?

The questioners all look at one another. Then at the policeman.

The policeman realises this could be an anomaly.

Was it a female saint? asks someone. Maybe Saint Teresa of Calcutta?

SHE wouldn't have a handbag! scoffs someone.

Why not? asks another.

What would she put in it? asks the scoffer.

Money, says the person who believes Saint Teresa might have had a handbag.

Yes, money she raised for the poor, says someone else.

Even if the real Saint Teresa had a handbag full of money, her statue wouldn't have had one, insists the scoffer.

Calm down, everyone, says the policeman. The saint I glimpsed momentarily was male.

Ahh! says almost everyone. 

They know a male saint would not carry a handbag.

Unless he had found it, and was looking for the owner.

It had a pointing finger, says the policeman.

This cuts out some male saints, but not all.

You should go back inside and see if they have a receipt for the handbag, says the scoffer.

Did you look inside it? asks another.

I did, says the policeman. The contents were not valuable.

What were they? asks someone.

A note book, a pencil and a drink bottle, all  of them tiny, says the policeman.

What was in the drink bottle? asks the same person.

I did not pursue that line of investigation, says the policeman. 

So will you now? asks the scoffer.

The policeman knows that he should. 

But these people are being extremely annoying.

He is in two minds, regarding further pursuance.

Thinking Wrong

Federico has returned with Prong, and the box.

Prong hops down from his shoulder, to land beside Terence.

Did the thieves come? asks Terence.

Not thieves, says Prong. But lots of people taking photos.

Of you? asks Terence.

Yes, of me, says Prong. It was embarrassing.

They thought she was a Messenger, says Federico. 

On a bike, says Terence.

I don't think they thought it was my bike, says Prong.

Did anyone open the box? asks Bowl.

No, says Prong. I was guarding it, so they couldn't.

See if the handbag's still in it, says Federico.

Simone takes the lid off the box.

Yes the handbag is in it.

Cool, says Sweezus. Who's for more tapas?

Me, says Arthur. Get more of those garlic prawn ones.

Sweezus goes up to the counter to order....

When in comes a policeman.

He stops right beside Sweezus, and asks loudly (in Spanish):

Has vista un loro?

Si, says the barman. El loro esta ahi.

He points to Sweezus's table, in the corner.

Sweezus sees where the barman is pointing.

Guys, what's a loro? asks Sweezus.

A parrot, say the policeman and the barman together.

Sorry about that, says Sweezus. We had to bring it inside because a crowd was gathering.

There has been a report that someone has stolen a box from under the parrot, says the policeman.

It's our box, says Sweezus.

I must inspect it, says the policeman. 

No worries, says Sweezus. I'm just ordering more tapas.

You do that, says the policeman. I'll investigate the box.

The policeman walks across to the the corner table.

Policia, says the policeman, showing his badge.

You look like Victor, says Terence.

Who is Victor? asks the policeman.

An Australian policeman, says Arthur. He looks like you.

We police tend to look similar, says the policeman. Not the female policia of course, although they too look similar, to each other, except for their hairstyles.

Your English is good, says Federico. 

Thank you, says the policeman. Now I need to see this box that you have.

Here, says Sartre. It's my box.

And is anything in it? asks the policeman. 

See for youself, says Sartre. Only a tiny handbag,

Please show me the contents of the handbag, says the policeman.

Sartre takes out the handbag, opens it and shows the policeman the tiny notebook, tiny drink bottle and tiny pencil.

The policeman examines the outside of the box.

This is a box for a saint, says the policeman.

And here is the saint that was in it, says Sartre, picking up and waving Saint Elias.

Do you have receipts for these items? asks the policeman.

YES! snaps Sartre.

Twenty seven euros. See!

Gracias, senor, says the policeman. Eso es todo.

He turns to go. and bumps into Sweezus who is carrying a large plate of garlic prawn tapas.

Victor! says Sweezus. I thought I knew you!

You thought wrong, says the policeman.