
Dan gave Matt a farewell kiss, mounted his Kawasaki 2000-C and roared off into the sunset.
Half a mile down the road, at the traffic light, he fumbled in the inside pocket of his heavy-duty horsehide leather jacket for his sunglasses as riding off into the sunset was making him squint and causing a traffic hazard.
A further half a mile down the road and around the corner, at the beginning of the ramp onto the motorway, Dan stopped again to don his disguise.
Dan Penteado: mild-mannered plumbing police by day, fearsome private investigator by night!
Zooming along the M6 at breakneck speed, Dan couldn't hear his mobile. Luckily, it was on vibrator function and pulsed pleasantly against his groin.
He swerved to a halt at a BP station. Flies lay dead in the fluorescent glow.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dan, is that you? This is Robert Wainthropp here, of the Burnley Detective Agency."
"The what? Hang on, did you say 'Wainthropp'?"
"Aye. We sent our young assistant down your way last month, do you remember?"
"Oh yes," breathed Dan Penteado. "The young lad. Jeremy, was it?"
"Geoffrey. His name's Geoffrey. And we'll be needing to send him again so I was wondering whether you could put him up for a night or two. Colleague to colleague, so to speak."
Dan Penteado felt faint. It must be all the exhaust fumes. "No problem," he said.

Dan Penteado felt very excited. He zoomed on off home, ran upstairs, remade the only bed in his house (his own double-bed) and went downstairs to still his breathing.
The phone rang. The landline.
"Hello?"
"Hallo? Is this Plumbing Police? I have problem with my toilet. Can you come now? Is formidable problem. You want address?"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-03 10:21 pm (UTC)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111113
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-04 06:01 am (UTC)