Find the Lady (part 2)

My boss took me by the arm and dragged me into his office. He sat me down in his chair and looked at me. His eyes were coloured with shame and he looked at me, shaking his head. "In all my time as a policeman, I have never heard such a rubbish reason for releasing the key suspect!"

"In my defence, sir, it all checks out."

"Face blindness, Powell! Face blindness! Its complete and utter rubbish!"

"I was thinking the exact same, sir, so I googled it and it all checks out! Prosopagnosia, otherwise known as face blindness, is a disorder of face perception where the ability to recognise faces is impaired whilst other aspects of visual processing-"

"I don't care what wikipedia says, Powell! You are a detective sergeant! Get after him and prove him guilty! Get out!"

I climbed off my chair and went to walk out of the door when he stopped me. "And never believe such a stupid suggestion ever again!"

I walked out of the nick and climbed into Herbie, pulling my airwave out of the glovebox. I called my friend Dabs- who we call so because she lives above a sweet shop, dealing especially with sherbet, on the road that leads out of the nick- and asked her whether she'd seen any gingers in blue suits walking out.

The answer was yes, and that he was heading down Blackpool road, on the phone and drinking something. 

I thanked her sincerely and then accelerated down Blackpool road. I knew where he was heading, and it wasn't good. Blackpool road led down, past the GPs/therapists and, after the crossing of three roads and about a two minute walk, onto Munster avenue. Where Emma Polonskous had lived.

I didn't put on the sirens, as I didn't want to draw anymore attention to myself. I negotiated the roads and continued, pulling on to Munster to see a white van pulling onto the road. A ginger man, Fletcher presumably, was waving to the van. It pulled to a stop and man climbed out, running over to Fletcher. I parked my car on the end of the road, in a position that Fletcher couldn't see it and climbed over into the passengers seat, allowing myself a better view. Fletchers first move was to scratch his head and then pull out a knife stabbing the van driver. The van driver fell to the floor. Fletcher placed the knife back in his pocket and sat down on the wall.

I, however, was too busy climbing out of the car. I tripped out and ran forwards, shouting, a little too high, the best words any policeman could think of in a time of crisis. "Police! Stop!"

Fletcher gave me a wave and stood up, stretching. "Hello," he paused, "DS Powell. You can get up now George."

The dead body climbed up and grinned. "It's James, Miles."

"Oh, sorry. Wait in the van, I'll talk to Powell here."

The van driver muttered some words and walked off. I pulled to a stop in front of Fletcher. "I knew you weren't face blind!" I cried.

"Incorrect once again, Detective!" The magician replied.

"I'm sorry."

"Your name is on your pass on the belt."

I looked down and shook my head. "What rubbish!"

"The need not to look straight at your face allows me to observe minor details. Such as the fact your notebook is in your left pocket. I know that because the pocket has a slight bump in."

I shook my head. "That's my wallet Fletcher, my notebook is in this top pocket," I said, tapping a pocket on my breast.

"Can't always be right! Anyway, nice to see you here, DS Powell. How can I help you?"

"I want to know why you're here?"

"Because I wanted to give my condolences to the other Miss Polonskous."

"Well, at the station, we'd rather like it if you'd leave Miss Polonskous and any other elements of this case alone. Now, get along on your way."

The magician turned around and gave the van driver a signal, to get him to drive off. Miles turned back around. "Not likely."

"Are you refusing?"

He walked towards me and took a swig of something. "Yes I am!"

"You've five seconds to change your mind."

He took another swig and started walking towards me, tripping. He fell on me, obviously drunk. I picked him up and handcuffed him. "Right then," I said. "Let's get you back to the theatre." I helped him across the road to Herbie and stuck him into the back, taking his fake knife off him.

I drove him back to the theatre and pulled the car to a stop, helping him towards the box office. I got the girl on reception to look after him and I walked out, back to Herbie. I wondered what that was all about on my way to apologise to Miss Polonskous about Fletcher. Little did I know, as cliched as it may sound, that I would be meeting the face blind magician once again, and it would be an interesting encounter indeed!