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They sat still, facing each other for a few moments before Alex finally asked "What now, Nicky? You seem to have all the answers."

"Where the hell did that come from? I don't have all the answers. I'm in the same place as you."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."

"Bollocks! What the fuck does that mean? I've offered to take you to Heathrow. You didn't want to go. Now, here you are and it's my fault? I want you to stay. I really do. I mean that from deep down inside. But, you're like Jekyll and Hyde. You've got issues going on inside your head, serious issues. You need to resolve them and not take it out on me. I'll help if you want; you just have to ask."

"Help me then" said Alex in a whisper. "Please?"

"I told you I would."

"Nicky, did you ever feel that other people don't seem to notice when you're around? That's how I feel. I'm like the invisible man."

"Well, maybe part of the reason you feel invisible is that you keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself too much. You got to make yourself more visible sometimes in order to be noticed and taken seriously." Yeah, like I'm one to talk, thought Nicky to himself. "Sometimes I even feel invisible when playing music. The only time everyone is watching me is at public events, and then I wish I were invisible."

"Uh-huh. I think I see what you mean. But it's hard sometimes, you know? Maybe people won't like what they see, if I show them more about myself."

"Well, Alex, I've never had this kind of conversation before. In fact, I usually run screaming from conversations like this. I've always tried to be invisible myself, and here I am with you, trying to be open and honest."

"I don't know what to say, but it seems like you really do understand." Alex did, then, what he did best; he decided he was uncomfortable and changed the subject. "So, Nicky, what is this big task that'll be set out for you?"

"I was afraid it was going to come around to that."

"I don't follow. You were afraid I was going to ask, or afraid of what the task might be?"

"Yes, to both, but mostly the first one. I think this may be the real test."

"Test?" inquired Alex with a perplexed expression. "Test of what?"

"Well, I'm going to tell you. I wasn't going to tell you the whole truth, but if we're going to be friends for the long haul, and I hope we are, a lie or even a partial truth won't work. But this isn't going to be easy on me. Not easy at all."

"Spill it. You've got me curious now. I'm curious to learn more about your whole world down here, but I don't even know where to begin. At some point we're going to have to discuss it further, but I think right now it would be totally overwhelming. Even what I've already heard boggles the mind."

"Right, then. But a condition first. It's easy. When I'm done, no matter how repulsed you are, and how much you want to run screaming away, you can't. When I'm done, if you really want to go, just tell me and I will escort you safely out as I've promised before," said Nicky emphasizing the word safely carefully so Alex would understand the consequences of leaving in a hurry without an escort.

"OK, I'll do that. I promise."

"I will, quite probably, have to kill someone."

"You have to what someone?" shot Alex with a clearly bewildered tone to his voice.

"Kill. You know, murder. As in, end the life of."

"I'm sorry but I don't know if I believe you, and, even if I believe you, I certainly don't follow you. I mean, if you told me you were an elf, I'd believe you -- you have the look. Aren't elves supposed to go on a quest and kill dragons or something?" asked Alex, clearly irritated.

Nicky sighed. That isn't the reaction I expected, but I don't know if that's good or bad. "'Cor, you don't make it easy on a guy, that's for sure. Look, maybe you have this preconceived notion of a fantasy world from reading Tolkien or something. There isn't anything wrong with that, but that isn't how it is. That's fiction. Life isn't fiction. And I'm certainly not an elf. I'm a human, just like you."

Nicky paused to collect his thoughts and then continued, "Damn, you make this hard on a bloke. Our world might be a little different with some of its rules and customs, but it's simple and it's real just like yours. But, for me to become an adult, I have to eliminate someone who is an enemy to my people. It doesn't mean I like the idea, or want to kill someone, but I have to. That's how it's been for our royal family since the dawn of our time."

"You don't have to do anything. Refuse to kill the person," said Alex, trying to use logic to reason with Nicky.

"If I refuse, I'll be killed by my own father. It is the king's duty to kill the heir apparent if he doesn't perform his assigned deed within the allotted period of time, or immediately if he refuses the task. It's kill or be killed," said Nicky, the stress clear in his voice.

Alex thought for a moment and then asked, "Didn't you say eliminate? Do you have to kill them?"

"I suppose not, but I don't know of any case where there was any way to eliminate someone without killing them. However, on a technicality, I suppose you are correct."

"Then leave. Come up top, or whatever it is you say."

"This is my world and I belong here. Permanent exile doesn't appeal to me much more than murder. I've tried to rationalize it. You must understand I still haven't been told who I must eliminate, where they live, what they've done, or anything. Besides, I'm not particularly nice to most people. While I am not looking forward to doing it and I don't like the idea, I never said I hated the idea."

Alex sat there in silence, visibly upset, and feeling alone.

"You aren't saying anything," observed Nicky somewhat stupidly.

Alex continued to sit in silence, his thoughts racing about inside his head. He was confused. He sat there, left hand on his lap, while his right hand went back up to his chest. Alex didn't know why he did that when he was confused and feeling lonely, but for as long as he could remember, he always had his right arm across his chest, pressing, hugging his own chest, as if it was helping to relieve a vast loneliness that lay at the core of his being. You could definitely feel alone even when there were other people. Alex knew that for a certainty.

"Listen, Alex. The silence isn't helping. Let me be straight with you and try and explain why I told you that. You know I could have made up any sort of lie, and you'd have believed it."

Nicky took a deep breath and continued, "In life, you get to choose who you want to be friends with from among the many people you will meet. Lots of people are going to pass through your life, but you have to make sure and hang on to the good ones. It can take a little work, but it's worth it. Once you make that connection, it's hard to break. The best thing I can say about my life is that I've never lost a friend to anger. Yeah, some people move away and some have died, but even the ones that have moved still keep in touch and we still feel like friends. It's a great feeling -- like having little bits of you all over the place. This is hard for me. I've not had many friends in my life, but I really value the ones I have."

Nicky paused and added, "Alex, that's sort of how I envisioned us when we first met. "

"Don't talk to me about friends, Nicky. The idea of having a best friend is wonderful to me. It's kind of hard to describe the difference between a good friend and your best friend. It's sort of all inside my head. Your good friends know what and who you liked and didn't like, and why. They know about your favourite stuff, like food, books, types of movies, or even TV shows. One friend or another would do stuff they don't really like just because everyone else wanted to. That's good friends. As best friends, there is a deeper level of feeling," Alex paused to collect his thoughts before continuing, "... of sensing things, knowing things, and not having to decide things verbally. You can feel each other's needs most of the time and just know exactly what it would take to break a bad mood or something like that, or even to share a bad mood. Yet, it's still more than that. But, the thing is, just saying that is what you want, doesn't make it so. You have to work at it. I'm not sure if I'm agreeing with you, or disagreeing with you. This whole thing is very uncomfortable. I just don't know what to do. Still, I do want to be your friend. This is weird because I just don't talk about these things. I don't even try to think about them too often." It was, perhaps, the longest speech Alex had ever given in his life. "Now here you come, waltzing into my life. Then you lay all this shit on me. It's fantastical, and yet here I am so I can't dispute it. It takes a while to assimilate it, digest it, and deal with it. Yet, in spite of it all, I'm still here. With you."

Nicky finally spoke after another extended silence. "We have two problems. You are a wanted man, so to speak. That problem won't go away until you turn up. The second problem is my so-called task, which I will find out about soon enough, probably this evening."

Nicky and Alex sat there, still facing each other in their chairs. Finally, getting uncomfortable in the chair, Alex moved over to the sofa. Millions of thoughts swirled about in his head like stars in an infinite number of galaxies. He tried to isolate them and whittle them down to a few coherent thoughts. He was not successful.

Finally, the summons came for Nicky to appear before the king. With great reluctance Nicky and Alex got dressed. Alex put on the formal outfit the tailor had sent down. It was almost like a tuxedo, including tails. There were matching pantaloons as well as a starched white shirt with French cuffs and an old-fashioned detachable collar. It was definitely nothing seen any more, and would have been in high style in the early 1900s. Alex turned when he was done, facing the wall while Nicky got dressed. He was uncomfortable staying here while Nicky got ready, yet he had nowhere to go.

After perhaps twenty minutes, Nicky spoke, "I'm ready. You can follow me to the audience chamber, but you can't come in. I know a relatively secret place that not many know about; you can eavesdrop from there," said Nicky with a conspiratorial grin.

Alex, a creature of habit, grabbed his things as they went out the door. Halfway down the corridor Nicky noticed Alex had them. "What are you bringing them for?"

"I dunno, habit, I guess. I can take it back."

"We haven't the time."

After an extended bit of hurried walking, Nicky pointed Alex to a small doorway. "That's a closet where we keep spare accessories for torches and such. It's cramped and smells absolutely horrid. However, the wall is thin and if you lean on the far left wall, you can hear the echoes of any conversation that takes place. Say nothing of what you hear. I'm putting my trust in you as a gesture of whatever our future may hold."

"I don't know what to say," said Alex.

"Try 'Thank You'," said Nicky as he turned to leave. "Oh, and one other thing, just in case you need it. This emergency corridor goes right up to Lord's station," he said while gesturing. "It's not usually very busy, but make sure you utter not a word or sound. It wouldn't do if someone heard." Then Nicky was off at a trot for his audience.

Alex situated himself as he tried to listen, and heard sounds of muttering but nothing particularly clear. They must be talking among themselves, he thought to himself. Suddenly there was a trumpeting sound. He heard a herald announce Nicky.

"I present myself for my duty, Sire," said a muffled voice which was definitely Nicky's.

"It is tradition to tell a story of loyalty or friendship before this special ceremony. It is said that such a story will serve as a lesson to contrast with the task we assign. Because this is our son, and it is a proud day for us, we will tell a special story. We think most of you have not heard it. It is the story of how I, your King, met my best friend. I was a lad of but eight years at the time." The crowd knew it was important because the King never used the first person unless he was angry.

••••••••

I, Mikhail Andrei Vonamoor, was sometimes a foolish child, as children are wont to be. I was running away from a perceived injustice. After a time, I stopped running, not hearing the sounds of chase. I knew the guards were looking for me, and I knew they'd check the woods last because most children were afraid of the woods. Although I felt a momentary pang of guilt at the punishment the guard would receive, I supposed I could fix it when I returned, by explaining that I'd run off. I realized the acting King should not behave like this, but I needed one last bit of freedom, for I knew my father was soon to die. The burden of the crown was already weighing heavily upon me.

I realized, to my great sadness, that in my freedom I was still alone. I decided it was foolishness to run, and it was time for me to return to this burden that I'd been prepared for, yet did not want. So, I determinedly started in the direction I was pretty certain was north.

Had the day been sunnier, it would have been easier, but without the sun I had to take my best guess. I'd been walking for less than 15 minutes when I heard a noise which I realized was someone else. I knew it wasn't a guard because guards made much more noise when on a search mission.

"Hey! You!" shouted a voice with an odd accent.

I turned to face the voice, thinking it sounded like another child. And sure enough, another boy stood there. I mentally analyzed the situation, neither speaking, nor moving.

"What's wrong? Don't you speak English?" inquired the boy.

I was a bit affronted at being addressed in such a manner and it showed in my voice as I spoke, "Yes, I speak it a little." For I knew a little English in addition to some other languages. It was all part of my training.

The other boy said, "My name's Nigel. I'm here on holiday from England. I was bored and got lost in the woods whilst looking around for something to do."

"I am Miki. I live not far from here," I stated simply. I decided it wise to not reveal myself at this point.

"Well, I'm staying in a hotel in the town not far from here. I just can't find my way back," said the boy called Nigel.

"I cannot go to the city. It is forbidden." I stated this as a matter of fact.

"I don't understand," he replied, understandably confused.

"It is too difficult to explain," I said simply, intending to go on after forming my thoughts.

The boy was persistent and interrupted my contemplations. "Because of your English?" he demanded.

"No, I think I can explain it. But, in explaining it, all you will have are more questions. Then you will be angry when I do not answer. It is just best you go back now." I pointed a finger towards, more or less, where the town was and repeated my command more forcefully, "You will go, now!"

"Bugger off! Just who do you think you are ordering me about?" said Nigel much to my shock. You can imagine that as a prince I was not accustomed to such words.

I didn't know how to answer that without getting laughed at, so I didn't answer. I wasn't sure I wanted to answer him truthfully.

In response to my refusal to answer, Nigel became angry. "I asked you a question. Why won't you answer it?" He gave me an angry push.

To anyone else, the push would have been a mild inconvenience, but to me, who had never had a hand laid upon my royal personage, it came as quite a shock. I fell over because I was not prepared for it. Nigel giggled at the shocked expression on my face.

"Sorry, mate. I didn't know you'd fall over," said Nigel as he extended his hand to help me up. I was rather irate but held my tongue because of the unusual situation. Nor did I take his hand, but rather remained on the ground.

I looked at Nigel like he was a raving loon and vehemently stated, "You can't do that to me!"

"Begging your pardon, I already did. Now do you want help getting up or should I just leave you there?"

I hesitantly reached out and grasped Nigel's proffered hand. I stood up with his help and dusted myself off. I wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation, but I supposed an apology was in order; yet a Prince never apologized except to his family, and the King never apologized to anyone. Ever. But, I did. "Um, well, I'm sorry that I upset you."

"There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" stated Nigel. He had no way of knowing his flippant statement caused my anger to begin anew.

I scowled, thinking it had been very difficult indeed. "Nigel, it's not something I'm used to doing."

"What, apologizing? Or explaining?" asked Nigel, quite confused.

"Either one. I don't have to apologize, normally," I offered as an explanation.

Nigel laughed off my statement as simply ludicrous. Normal children of our age were always apologizing for everything. "Certainly not, of course," said Nigel, the sarcasm clear in his voice.

Nigel's sarcasm was not mocking, but humorous, so I took no umbrage at it. I realized something: this was the first time someone had interacted with me as an equal, another person, a human, and I rather liked it. I thought briefly, and wondered how trustworthy Nigel was. "Nigel, can I trust you?" I asked.

"Of course you can, but that's a silly question. Even if you couldn't do you think I'd tell you?" replied Nigel.

I smiled at the answer, as it reassured me in some strange way. "Listen, Nigel, would you like to come with me?"

"What, to your house?" he asked as I had not explained.

"Yes, I suppose that's what you'd call it. We could play or something. I don't have many friends. I mean, I have lots of friends, but they're not really my friends." I didn't know why I liked Nigel, but I did. I'd never really made my own friend before. I was excited at the prospect and was willing to push it forward as fast as I could. My friends were usually picked out by my father as you know is customary to the royal family.

But, Nigel frowned because I didn't elaborate out loud. "You're fond of making confusing statements, aren't you? I don't see why I couldn't come over. Do you think I could be back before dark? Mum would go bonkers if I wasn't back for dinner."

"Yes, we can have you back by then, I'm sure. Besides, coming with me may help answer some of your questions."

"Well, I suppose we're off then," agreed Nigel.

"I can show you my room, where I play, and that sort of thing," I said excitedly, not really having had the chance to give the grand tour to anyone I wanted to. I was so tired of being treated like royalty. This was, I hoped, my big chance to be friends, even if for a day, with someone who would treat me as an equal. You can't understand what it's like, I don't think, but it's a terrible burden.

"It sounds lovely," said Nigel noncommittally, "So, what do you do with your time?"

"Same as you, I suppose. School-work, study, play a bit if I've the time," I said.

"Right. Same everywhere I suppose. You have lots of friends? Will we meet some?" asked Nigel who was now showing more genuine interest in our excursion.

"Well, as I said, I've lots of friends, but they aren't really my friends. Maybe we'll run into some. I don't know. I rather hope we don't," I offered knowing he'd be disappointed.

"It sounds like you're friends with kids of your parents choosing, instead of friends that you chose. I know how it is, you know? My father is an important executive at the company where he works. He forces me to be friends with the kids of some of his bosses, but I don't like them. It keeps me from finding people I'd like better." When Nigel said this my heart soared.

"Yes! Exactly! It's amazing to me, that I 'm not alone in feeling this way," I shouted with profound excitement that someone understood what I was feeling.

"I'm sure there's plenty more just like us. I wouldn't be concerned at all," said Nigel, changing the subject suddenly. "Your English is certainly good, I must say. You've barely stumbled."

"I have lots of practice. My tutors are very keen on languages. I speak several, though English is my second best, after my own of course." How much I was taught as part of my training for future monarch would have boggled anyone's mind .

I stopped suddenly, yet another thought in my head. "Nigel, stop!" I commanded, holding out my hand much like a policeman would. "Look at me," I insisted forcefully.

Nigel wondered what was happening, but he obeyed my command and looked at me. "What's this about? You really have to stop commanding people. You're supposed to ask, not order."

I ignored the comment and went directly to my point, "I, Mikhail Andrei Vonamoor, wish to formally, and personally apologize for any insult I offered earlier. I hope we become friends. Real friends. I will try not to order you about, but it is in my nature. You'll see, soon."

Nigel smiled at me, taking my apology as offered, knowing this one was sincere. His obvious doubts about my earlier one were clearly erased.

"I take it you'll accept my apology, then?" I inquired to be sure.

Nigel nodded affirmatively and began walking, but slowly so I could resume the lead.

"When we arrive at my place, there's going to be a bit of excitement as I've run off a few hours ago. Just say nothing and let me handle it," I said by way of explanation.

"If you say so," stated Nigel betraying no emotion.

I hated this part, but I had to deal with it. There was no way to avoid it. Sure enough, it wasn't long before we heard a command, "Halt, stranger!"

Before I had time to answer, a guard looked at me and realized there had been a fight of some sort because there was dirt on my clothes and my hair was in disarray. "Is this the one who harmed you, Sire?" inquired the guard.

"Yes, but peace be upon him," I commanded.

"Sire, it is death to touch the royal personage, much less to fight with him!" exclaimed the guard, emphasizing the word death as clearly as he could.

"I bade him do it as a contest of strength. Let it pass," I stated hoping it would prevent any further discussion.

"As you wish, sire," said the guard and he ushered us in.

••••••••

"So," said the King, "as you see even the most unusual circumstances may lead to friendship." There was, of course, polite applause. The King paused to let the lesson sink in before returning to the task at hand.

"The Aspirant may rise," commanded the King.

"By your leave, your Grace, I am here to accept the duty as prescribed by all of our ancestors back to the beginning," intoned Nicky.

"After consultation with the council of Lords, we have made our decision." Alex heard abundant murmuring, indicating an audience of considerable size, something he hadn't fully grasped before.

The King continued as the murmuring died down. "Since we came here from our old land, our folk have always strived to live peacefully among those who live above. And, for the most part, we have succeeded. Sometimes we have a difficulty with an outsider, and it is put to rest quickly. It has been many years since an outsider has seen us in our own halls, and known these halls for what they are. We are sad to report that our son Nikolai has brought that upon us again." A dissatisfied roar manifested itself.

"SILENCE! I WILL HAVE SILENCE," commanded the King angrily. The crowd grew silent quickly. "Thus, Nikolai, you are given the task of eliminating the threat you introduced. You are given three days to carry out this task. We are given to understand he is still with you. See that he does not return up top and see that you finish your task quickly and efficiently."

"I can't kill him! He's my friend," wailed Nicky. And a very good friend, he thought silently. "Don't you see the irony? In the story you just told, Nigel, your best friend, is from up above."

"This is different!" said the King before realizing he was starting a family squabble in front of an audience. "We are the King. You shall not tell us what you can or cannot do. We command and you follow. So shall it be written. So shall it be done!"

"So shall it be written. So shall it be done!" intoned the crowd.

"As the King commands," said Nicky.

Alex was in a panic. Jesus Fucking Christ! He's going to kill me! What was I thinking? I've got to get out of here. I just have to. A fucking loon who's going to kill me, and I came here willingly. I deserve this. Fuck, shit, piss, damn, hell. Alex uttered every expletive he could think of to himself, which he realized wasn't nearly as satisfying as swearing out loud. Then he took a deep breath, and then he quietly opened the door and peeked about. He saw nobody; they must all be at the ceremony. What was it Nicky had said? "Oh, and one other thing. This emergency corridor goes right up to Lord's station."

Alex ran. He ran like he'd never run before, doing his best with his belongings weighing him down slightly. He ran as if his life depended on it. His life did depend on it. He came around the corner and saw the guard. Oh fuck! What do I do? Wait! He can't know what just happened. Alex composed his thoughts, and slowed down to a walk, his heart beating rapidly.

"Halt!" challenged the guard.

Alex's mind raced to think of how to reply. The guard was clearly growing impatient, and Alex blurted out the first thing he could think of. "Prince Nikolai told me to go wait for him on the platform. You must remember, I came in with him earlier."

"Yes, I remember, but this is most unusual."

"Well, I can't help it. Nicky, I mean Prince Nikolai, said that I couldn't attend the ceremony, so I had to go wait there until he was done. If you want, I can go wait outside the door of the ceremony hall."

"NO! That is not permitted. I will allow you to pass, but your life is forfeit if you try and leave the platform."

It already is forfeit. I don't have a damn thing to lose, except, perhaps, my head. "Yes, sir. I'll wait on the platform as Prince Nikolai instructed," Alex lied.

As soon as Alex turned the corner, out of the sight of the guard, he ran again. He came to the platform, and boarded the first train that stopped. He knew the ghost train wasn't safe. He exited the train at Baker Street and ran towards the Jubilee line platform, earning many irritated looks and mutterings in his haste. He got on another train so as to confuse any would-be pursuers. His heart was pounding as the train left Baker Street station. What should I do? The train pulled into Bond Street and Alex had no answers. The train left Bond and pulled into Green Park. As Alex sat there thinking he noticed a bobby get on the train. That's it. I'll go to the police.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Alex, tapping the bobby on the shoulder.

"Yes? Constable Richard, here. How may I be of service, young master?" replied the constable not actually paying much attention to the teen.

"You know that kid on the front of the paper? That's me."

Constable Richard, an imposing figure, looked down. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at the picture. "It is you," he muttered and experienced a sudden change of attitude. "Come on, son. Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Scotland Yard."

"Scotland Yard. Why not the police?"

Constable Richard laughed or made what he thought was a laugh but it was more of a snort. "Scotland Yard is the police. It's what London's Metropolitan Police are called. We're getting off at the next stop and from there it's just a short walk. Then when we get there, I'll turn you over to someone in the runaway department."

"I'm not a runaway."

"If you say so," replied the constable. "Right, then. You sure you aren't going to run off again? You have to promise me, or I'll have to secure you."

"I didn't run away the first time, so there can't be an 'again'," retorted Alex. He wanted to shut this constable up, "Look, why don't you tell me why it's called Scotland Yard. I always thought it was a silly name."

Constable Richard made an unhappy guttural noise in his throat, "Well, the task of organising and designing the "New Police" was placed in the hands of Colonel Charles Rowan and Sir Richard Mayne. These two Commissioners occupied a private house on Whitehall Place, the back of which opened on to a courtyard known as 'Scotland'. The courtyard was later used by Sir Christopher Wren and known as 'Scotland Yard.' The back premises of Whitehall Place were used as a police station, entered from through the courtyard, and so the headquarters of the Metropolitan Police became known as Scotland Yard. These headquarters were removed in 1890 to premises on the Victoria Embankment and became known as "New Scotland Yard"; in 1967 a further removal took place to the present site at Broadway which is also known as "New Scotland Yard". "

As Constable Richard told the story, Alex glanced around to see if anyone was following. He supposed he should be nervous, anxious, or experience some stress, but the truth was he didn't feel anything except relief to be around someone with authority. He'd feel better if the constable had a gun, but he knew that wasn't something you found in England.

By the time the story was finished, they had exited the tube at Westminster, and arrived at Scotland Yard's local office. They walked in and the constable on duty looked at Alex and paused a moment before saying, "Well, Richard, looks like you've come up with the bloody prize. I don't envy you the paperwork."

"Piss off, William. I'm giving him to Constable Elizabeth in the runaways department. The boy walked right up to me on the tube. Simple as that. I needn't bother with any complex paperwork. They can turn him over to the embassy or whatever," muttered Richard as if Alex wasn't even there.

"Are you kidding? Around here? There's always paperwork."

"Well, after I turn him in I'm off duty, so I'll be off for a pint. Coming?"

"Brilliant! The Chelsea match is on soon." At the mention of Chelsea, several cat calls erupted from other constables, most of them highly derogatory in nature. Constable Richard retorted with something rather unpleasant, and the good-natured shouting match went on for a few moments. Finally, Richard led Alex down a hallway.

Alex was disinterested in the whole exchange and was trying to formulate his story as best as he could. I wonder what story to tell? I need one. The truth won't work. Who'd believe it? Richard led Alex to a small office. Richard rapped on the door, and a woman's voice replied, "It's open."

Alex was ushered in by Richard and he was summarily turned over with a short explanation, "This 'ere is Constable Elizabeth, and she'll have plenty of questions for you." Constable Richard then walked off to fill out his report and get that pint, leaving Alex with Elizabeth.

"Well, you've got tired of running away, then, have you?" inquired Elizabeth who didn't get up from her desk. She was shuffling papers, much like someone who wishes to look busy and appear not much interested in a visitor, when in fact, she really is.

"I didn't run away."

"Of course not," Constable Elizabeth said in a patronizing voice. "Nobody ever does."

"I was kidnapped."

The patronizing smile disappeared from Constable Elizabeth's face.

"You were WHAT?"