The Incompetent Policeman

Aren't you going after him? asked Gaius.

I don't think so, said Victor. I imagine he's innocent anyway.

You do, do you? said Gaius. And what about me?

You're probably guilty, said Victor. As the paper bag will no doubt prove.

It will prove just the opposite, said Gaius, hotly. Make sure you don't lose it.

I won't lose it, said Victor. I'm a policeman.

You're an incompetent policeman, said Gaius. First you let a suspect escape, then you say he was probably innocent. If I were to escape would you say the same about me? No doubt you would. No wonder I'm worried you'll lose the paper bag. Where is it, if you don't mind me asking?

It's here in my pocket, said Victor. At least it was. I'm sure it was. Now what can have happened to it?

You've lost it, said Gaius. I knew it. Next you'll say I'm free to go.

You are, said Victor. Now I've lost the evidence.

Nonsense, said Gaius. You still have to write a report. You are not just dealing with any old suspect you know. I am a citizen of ancient Rome. I know all about legalities.

Ancient Rome? said Victor, putting two and two together. Pliny? Don't tell me you are Gaius Plinius Secundus? Otherwise known as Pliny the Elder?

At last! said Gaius. A bit of recognition. Yes, I am he.

Well well, it's an honour Mr Pliny, said Victor. This explains the penguin pie very satisfactorily.

It does? said Gaius.

It does, said Victor. I assume you would have been used to eating such things in ancient Rome. My report will make that clear. You have no case to answer.

Thank you, said Pliny. Although your assumption is quite wrong. And now may I go?

You may, said Victor, unless.....would you like to stay on in Victor Harbor for a few days and come whale-watching with me?

I would, Victor, said Gaius. I would indeed.

Mind Your Heads

Sweezus was still on Granite Island when he received Belle et Bonne's text. He wondered whether he ought to take her advice. But then he remembered that he hadn't officially taken the blame for the crime as yet, so there was no need to escape. And anyway, his bicycle was at the other end of the causeway.

He glanced towards the causeway. There was a police car driving slowly over to the island. Two minutes later it drew up beside the kiosk and a policeman got out.

Now you're for it, said Francine. Are you sure you want to take the blame?

I don't mind, said Sweezus. It can't be that much of a crime.

Gaius looked uncomfortable.

I don't see how it can be a crime at all, he said. There was no penguin in the pie.

The policeman came up.

Now then, he said. Someone has accused a member of your party of having in his or her possession a penguin pie. May I look inside that paper bag, sir?

He looked suspiciously at Gaius's paper bag.

Yes, said Gaius, you may. But you will find that it is empty, because I have eaten all the pie.

It was my pie , said Sweezus. He ate it, but the pie belonged to me.

And may I ask what was in the pie? asked the policeman.

Yes, said Sweezus.

There was a pause.

What was in the pie? asked the policeman, patiently.

Sweezus looked at Gaius.

Gaius said it was penguin, answered Sweezus.

Is that true? the policeman asked Camus.

Camus shrugged, then nodded.

I am going to have to take you in for further questioning, the policeman said to Sweezus.

That's cool, said Sweezus.

And you too, sir, said the policeman, looking at Gaius.

That's not cool! said Sweezus. I'm the one to blame.

Sorry sir, said the policeman, but it seems you both have a case to answer. Please get into the back of the police car. Mind your heads.

The Replica Sandwich

Pliny was pleased with the Premier's definition of a bogan. Salt of the earth, he thought as he walked into the city on Sunday morning. I can live with that.

He entered the Premier's Box. Everyone was looking anxiously out of the windows at the sky.

The Premier came over.

Big day today, he observed. Let's hope the rain keeps off.

Yes, said Pliny. I suppose it could be dangerous.

By the way, said the Premier, I have something for you.

He handed Pliny a brown paper bag.

What's this? said Pliny.

It's your sandwich from last Thursday, said the Premier. I had someone ask the guard to retrieve it.

What! said Pliny. I hardly want it now!

Ha ha! Gotcha! said the Premier. It's not really that sandwich. It's a replica.

In that case, thank you very much, said Pliny. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll watch the races.

The morning flew by and soon it was time for the big one, the Clipsal 500 V8 Championship. It was raining, then it wasn't, then it was. No one knew what sort of tyres to put on.

Pliny was glad he was in the Premier's box out of the rain. He began to feel a little peckish. Should he eat his replica sandwich or go over to the table that was loaded as usual with complimentary gourmet food and wines? What would a proper bogan do? He didn't know.

He looked out of the window. His man Whincup was in the lead. That was good. The Holden man.
One of them anyway. He wondered what it really meant to be a Holden man.

Thoughtfully he bit into the Premier's replica sandwich.