Lacklustre Weapon

"We have quite a few things to question you about," said the younger man in the suit.

"Yes, we do, Mr." the older man looked down at his notebook, and squinted, "Mr. I.Difficult."

"Who are you?" asked I.

He held up a badge, "I'm DCI Fred Ender, and this," pointing to the younger man, "is DS Dave Smith."

"Oh!" There wasn't much to say to that.

"Would you like to do this here, or down the station?" asked DS Smith.

"Can I decide when you tell me what it is about?" I asked.

"I have a list here in my notebook," DCI Ender turned the book around to reveal a carefully numbered list in small well proportioned handwriting. Each page had roman numerals at the bottom.

I looked at the list:

• Disappearance of the Eiffel Tower. Later found. In Basingstoke.
• Nuclear submarine in the Slobbering-under-the-Bed Town Centre ornamental pond. Scared ducks.
• Street lighting broken in the Town Centre.
• Parking a genetically modified animal in the wrong timezone.

"Oh dear," I muttered. Hopefully they couldn't read anything into my expression.

I needed an alibi. Quickly. I thought hard. "I was watching TV, " I said.

"For all of these? And we didn't say when they happened?" DS Smith looked unsure.

DCI Ender helped him out, "What did you watch?"

"Oh, I hadn't turned it on. I was just watching it. And eating a curry." Quick think. Think. Must make this sound plausible. "Actually the cat had eaten the curry and was wearing the tin on it's head." Sorted. Very convincing.

Maybe a change of subject would work here, "Have you two been working together long?"

"Two weeks," replied DCI Fred, "They like to pair together odd couples like in the movies. You see I'm the straight-laced and by-the-book family man," he paused for dramatic effect, and possibly breath, "and DS Dangerous Dave here is the devil-may-care maverick whatever-it-takes-to-get-the-job-done shoot-to-kill hard-drinking hard-living womaniser with a death wish."

"Bugger, I thought you were the maverick with the death wish?!" exclaimed the somewhat surprised and newly nicknamed Dangerous Dave.

The two besuited detectives looked at one another with a look that surpassed surprise. I felt somewhat left out. "I don't know anything about these things, but I know a man who almost certainly does. Well, not know, more sort of acquaintance. We've done a little business. Have you got your notepad?"

"Yes," they both said in unison.

I spelled out the name, "I-N-D-I-G-O R-O-T-H. He'll be able to help. Hell, he may even be responsible for these crimes."

"That's odd," said DS Dave, raising an eyebrow.

"It is indeed."

"That's the name of the chap who gave us your name..."