Tottering back from yet another evening of overindulgence on Harbour Parade last night, I stumbled across a group of people milling around outside a guest house on one of the East Cliff back streets.
Apparently the B&B had just been burgled, with a number of effects stolen from the room of a German guest. The rozzers had been called a while back, but were still C by their A.
Several phone calls and twenty minutes later, a cop car was seen pulling up miles away at the other end of the street, leaving the distraught proprietor to run after them, and the poor German lady muttering something about the staggering inefficiency of our Boys In Blue. Finally, half an hour after Raffles had presumably had it away on his toes, two of Her Majesty's finest testicle jugglers rocked up to the guest house, with one of them bellowing triumphantly into his radio: "We've found it."
Anyone taking odds on the prospect of the same silly constable ever reporting in: "We've found him"?