At around midnight on Sunday night I approached a couple of policemen on a quiet street. There was a man leaning out of a window four floors above them. This was the conversation that followed:
Police: All right mate?
Man: Uuuuurrhhhhhh....(followed by something unintelligible)
Police: Did you call the police earlier? At about three in the afternoon?
Three in the afternoon? And it's midnight?
Man: Uuuuuhh...
At this point I realised he'd just been woken up, hence his slurred, sleep-filled speech.
Man: Err.. yes.
Police: Can we come up, mate?
Man: Errrrr....
Police: Sorry...It's a bit late.
Man: (gathering his wits a little) Yeah...It is late.
Police: We could come back tomorrow...?
Man: Yeah. That would be better.
Police: Okay. So long as there's no-one dead or dying up there?
What were the chances he'd put his hands up and say: Yes. I've committed bloody murder, you'd better come on up.
Man: Oh, no no. Nothing like that.
Police: Ha ha. Ok, but we will be back tomorrow.
The police, satisfied with their arrangement left him to it. Which I'm guessing was either go back to sleep or to begin rapidly burying a body in the back garden.
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