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“Who’s doing it?”
“We cooperate closely with National Security and don’t wish to jeopardize a good working relationship. I can’t tell you.”
“Then why Bart-Mart and not, say, Waitrose or Somerfields?”
“I think we’re about done here,” said Vi
“I won’t ignore any lawbreaking, Craps.”
“No one’s asking you to, Inspector. It’s a question of priorities. I’m just asking you to put porridge on a… low priority. Be seeing you.”
And without another word, he walked briskly out of the factory unit and straddled a Norton motorcycle that was parked outside.
“Wait!” said Jack. “What about—”
But he might as well have been talking to himself. Vi
“You know what this means?” said Jack as Vi
“That the singular ‘screech of tire ’ looks and sounds wrong even if it’s quite correct?”
“No. It means there’s a higher authority in ursine-related Nursery Crime than us.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind, but I’d like to have known about them.”
“So we cool off on the porridge thing?”
“Do we hell,” replied Jack. “Ash?”
“Yes?” replied Ashley, who was still staring wistfully at the bathtub in the Dumpster.
“I want you to get back to the office and call the biggest Bart-Mart in Reading and ask to view the security tapes covering the checkouts for the past five days. If the manager wants to know why, don’t mention porridge or bears. And if you have to make up a story, make it a little less outlandish this time.”
“How much less outlandish?” asked the alien, whose understanding of the average human’s perception of reality was patchy at best.
“One that doesn’t involve pirates and treasure,” said Jack.
“Just tell them we’re looking for some thieves active in the area.”
“Right,” said the alien, and scampered off, only to return a few moments later.
“What am I looking for in the security pictures?”
“Anyone with a cart full of rolled oats.”
“Okay,” said Ash, “and no pirates.”
He dashed off again, and Jack and Mary returned to the car.
“Where now?” asked Mary.
“It’s time we found out a little bit more about… Goldilocks.”