CHAPTER 229: Don't Tell The Wife

Edna couldn't quite put her finger on it but George was acting out of character lately.  He seemed more emotional and quick to change mood.  One minute he was talking about his work in great detail, the next he would look furtively out of the living room window as if he had feared something that lurked outside...

"George, is there something bothering you?  You seem a bit jumpy at the moment" she said, quizzically.

"Oh nothing in particular, my love...I've got a lot on my plate work wise..." he said defensively.

"My love?  You don't usually talk in such a flowery manner..." 

"Don't I?  Well, maybe I don't heap enough praise on you for all the wonderful things you do, Sugar Pie"

"George!  Mind your language!  We have a League of Decency meeting later today and it sends out the wrong message if you go around calling me 'sugar pie' in public."

"Sorry dear...I will mind my manners when we're out there"

And out there was Uptown San Myshuno, the heart of the city.  Edna was scoping out the scene because in a few hours the League of Decency were going to hold a rally there.  Already hanging around there was a young man with a Beatnik style beard and glasses (at least Edna thought he looked the Beatnik type) who was checking a large and professional looking camera.  She decided to approach him.

"Hello there, Edna Sneedley; the League of Decency...thank you for coming along today.  Now we shall be assembling over there, by the fountain, where there will be some speakers and a more informal discussion with members of the public.  You can position yourself anywhere you like as long as you don't block the speaker whilst they're giving a talk and if you want any shots of myself then please don't hesitate to ask....after all, I have a great respect for our Fourth Estate...."

The man looked confused.  "Excuse me, Miss Sneedley...I have no idea what you're talking about."

Now it was Edna's turn to look confused.  "But aren't you here to cover the League of Decency rally?"

"No, ma'am, I'm here for a publicity shoot for rising pop star Lisa Richardson"

At that moment a lively young blonde woman popped up next to the photographer and introduced herself.  "Hey there, Lisa Richardson...Lil' Lisa according to my publicist.  Groovy to meet you...I don't discriminate against my older fans."

Edna shook her head and just walked off.  

She went to get a drink from somewhere but there was only one coffee shack in the area and none of the bars around here were open so a coffee it would have to be.  She cursed under her breath that she didn't bring along a hip flask of something stronger with her today.  However, she didn't have much time to rue that decision as a very flamboyantly dressed young man who sported a very thin moustache and obviously dyed blonde hair approached her.

"This much talent..." he said, cryptically, holding his thumb and forefinger close together to indicate a tiny amount.

"I beg your pardon?" replied Edna.

"That Lisa Richardson, she's got practically no talent, no personality but she has a good agent and can pout for the camera.  May I join you?" said the young man, indicating an empty seat opposite Edna.

"Erm, why, yes...I don't see why not.  So you know that young, brash and overly self-confident girl, do you?"

"For my sins, alas yes." he replied, sitting down.  "I have to in my line of work:  Style critic."

Now Edna wouldn't normally approve of a man like this one who dressed in an outrageous manner, dyed his hair blonde and with a camp voice but something about his blunt cynicism appealed to her.

"A style critic you say?  And how are you with all the latest styles and fads?" she asked, probingly.

"Fads come, fads go...style endures.  I don't care if it's mini, midi or sackcloth as long as it's worn with class.  I mean, look at the models...Suzy Parker, Jean Shrimpton and Colleen Corbett; all classy.  Marianne Faithful and Lisa Richardson; trashy.  By the way my name is Diego Lobo...and you are?"

"Edna Sneedley; Chairwoman of The League of Decency." 

"Oh so YOU'RE the Edna Sneedley I've heard about.  Enchante, madam"

He had heard of her...now she was liking him more.

"Yes I am, Mr Lobo.  I hope what you've heard is all good."

"Honey, I've heard so many things about you:  Good and bad.  I neither approve nor disapprove of your organisation:  If it gets rid of nasty, cheap fashion I'm all on board.  Now might I say you have a strong look going there, Mrs Sneedley...may I call you Edna?  Good.  You look a lot like Joan Crawford but I would suggest updating the look:  Jackie Kennedy's Chanel style needs an update.  Do check out Pierre Cardin, I think he would suit you."

"Oh Mr Lobo, you do flatter me....but DO go on..."

Meanwhile George was about to begin the opening speech of the League's meeting.  "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  My name is George Sneedley, vice-chair and membership secretary of The League of Decency...today we have many guest speakers addressing a wide variety of topics including lawlessness, the fight against Communism, jaywalking, littering, public health and sexual mores....but first up is Dr Julia Epstein of Willow Creek Community hospital to talk about the importance of child health in our local community..."

There was a small ripple of applause from the small crowd as Julia walked up to the podium.  Acknowledging her audience she began her talk in a hesitant tone until she found her confidence as her topic became more technical about medicine.

Afterwards Edna was approving of Julia's speech but still took the time to lightly criticise her presentation.  "On the whole, very good, young Julia but you need to hook your audience in with your opening statement... I recommend beginning with something startling and terrifying to really grip the crowd!"

George came over to chat with the two ladies.  "What did you think, George?  About Julia's speech?" asked Edna.

"Oh quite nice, actually.  Quite nice" he said, in a faintly vague manner as if his mind was elsewhere.

Edna was too busy looking around for a member of the public in attendance to give a League leaflet to so she didn't notice George's manner, but Julia did.

"George..." Julia began "are you alright?  I saw you at the Blue Velvet Bar last night and you seemed distracted..."

"No you didn't" snapped back George.

"I'm sure I did...we spoke outside the bar..."

"I wasn't in the bar and if I were I wasn't distracted" he again snapped but in a hushed tone that wouldn't alert Edna.

"Now here comes our next speaker, Scott..." interjected Edna, who hadn't paid any attention to Julia and George.  "Now have you still got that schedule George?  We must keep to the schedule"

"Yes dear...it's your turn to announce the speaker, Edna" he said, glancing at his clipboard.

"Right, best get to it!" she replied.  She then made a clicking noise with her lips, as if to indicate thirst.  "I wish there was a place to get a drink around here..."

She approached the podium and smiled at the crowd.  "I am very pleased to introduce our next speaker.  A brave young man who gave 4 years of his life to our fine military in defence of our nation against the Communist aggressor...Technical Sergeant Scott Urban, now Mr Scott Urban..."

Scott stood behind the podium and began his speech.  "It was during basic training back at Fort Hood, Texas, where I had a personal epiphany...It was on viewing a training film about syphilis..."

Whilst the speech went on and Edna watched on, enthralled, Julia took the time to approach George privately.

"George, I did see you in the bar last night...if there's anything you want to talk about, remember I am a doctor and what you tell me is in the strictest confidence."

George bit his bottom lip before responding but eventually he spoke.  "Yes...I was in the Blue Velvet last night but please don't tell Edna!  It's not her kind of establishment.  She went in there once but ended up having a furious row with that Suzy Kent woman.  I don't know what possessed me to go in there last night but...lately...things have been a little...erm...how can I describe this?  Well...it's like I have two lives at the moment...and it's juggling them with the knowledge that I have...I...I...well, it began as a simple thing, really, and it got out of control...and now I know things I shouldn't and I don't understand them either..."

Julia couldn't make head nor tail of what he was saying but it sounded like he was trying to confess to having an affair.  She tried to respond, tactfully.

"Is there...another woman, George?" she asked.

Again, he didn't immediately respond but looked down at the ground at his feet and then he did another thing she found strange:  He looked at hers and with a tilt of his head his gaze went slowly upwards, looking at Julia all the way.

"No...well, yes...well, kind of, but not in an infidelity way.  You know in the Bible there's the part about thinking about another woman is the same as knowing them?  I mean, you must have that in your version..."

"The Talmud?  Yes, I know the reference.  So is this about desiring another woman?"

"No...well, possibly, only...well, this other woman's more of an ideal than an actual person.  It's something within me...except it's not that simple as it's about what I...and she...witnessed..."

"But this person doesn't exist?" asked an increasingly confused Julia.

George shook his head and said "No, forget it...just don't tell Edna that you saw me in that bar!" before he walked away.

Everything after that was an anti-climax for both George and Julia but Edna was buoyed up by a crowd of nearly 30 people showing up and listening to the speeches; not all at the same time, however.  George went home to get changed for work but Edna wanted to continue her canvassing by going to see an old acquaintance:  Nancy Landgraab. 

Nancy was there to answer the door and she greeted Edna with a warm-ish smile.  "Edna, what a pleasant surprise, do come in."

"Thank you, Nancy...once again, my condolences on dear Geoffrey's untimely passing.  How are you coping?"

"Well enough; fortunately I'm kept busy with the business, the Landgraab Foundation and all our subsidiaries.  My father has returned to help run the company and Malcolm has been such a blessing in this troubling time.  Come through to the sitting room...would you like a drink?"

"Oh would I ever!" said Edna, smiling enthusiastically.

They walked through to the spacious lounge where Nancy poured Edna a whisky and soda.  "So..." began Nancy as she handed Edna the drink "...how have you and George been keeping?"

"We're fine...in fact doing quite well.  We had a League of Decency rally today and it was a qualified success if I do say so myself."

"Do have a seat, Edna.  I know my Geoffrey was always supportive of your cause."

"He was, Nancy, our biggest supporter.  I've also spoken with your father; a great man and he too was enthusiastic about what we do."

"Was he really?" replied Nancy, raising an eyebrow.  "Well, we've got some shared values, Edna.  You and your organisation are broadly aligned.  We do still have the same enemies..."

"Oh yes...pests.  As it happens I'm running for office; for city councillor."

"Yes, but there's still people that need bringing down, Edna.  I think that needs to be a priority." Nancy said, emphatically.

"Well, I can be more effective if I'm on the council"

"Yes, indeed.  And, frankly, the Fengs need pulling down a peg or two."

"So can I count on your support?" said Edna, pushing her point.

"Hmmm....yes, I think you can.  Anyway, I must be getting on Edna.  I'll see you to the door and hope to see you again." said Nancy.

The two women stood up and Nancy escorted Edna to the door.  Edna felt pleased to secure Landgraab support and she felt emboldened as she headed back down the valley to Bedrock Strait.  George wasn't home yet but Edna felt she deserved a victory drink.

CHAPTER 221: Temper, temper

When Julia went to treat her first patient of the day she was surprised to find that it was someone she knew quite well:  George Sneedley.

"Good morning, George" she said cheerily but a look at the man's face soon wiped the happy expression off of her face.  "Oh dear, those are some strange markings on your face...let's see if we can get to the bottom of what's caused that."

George smiled meekly back at her.  She had always found him to be a quiet, often reticent man who only really came to life when talking about odd, often esoteric topics of conversation such as uniforms and the superiority of stockings over tights.  

"So when did these skin markings start to appear?" she asked.

"Yesterday morning"

"I see...had you bathed beforehand?" 

"I bathed the previous evening" he replied with an almost apologetic tone to his voice.

"Not a morning person then?  And did you use your regular brand of soap or a different kind?"

"No.  My regular kind."

"Did you apply anything to your skin that you wouldn't normally use such as a moisturiser?"

"NO!" replied George, sharply.  "I do not use feminine products on my skin!"

Julia didn't instantly reply, shocked as she was by George's raised voice and sharp manner.

"The only reason I asked is that sometimes women get skin rashes when applying too much make up, which clogs the pores and causes a reaction in the skin.  I know they test things so this doesn't happen but it can still happen...but obviously you wouldn't use lots of foundation make up..."

"OBVIOUSLY NOT!" George snapped again.

"Let me run some tests...it could be blood related." she said, wondering what on earth was triggering George.

As she was about to leave there came a voice over the loudspeaker.  Julia recognised it as being Harper Newell, a nurse she knew and a friend, who was speaking and there was urgency in her voice.

"Paging a crash team to the lobby...paging a crash team to the lobby.  We have a patient emergency."

Julia, without any authority, ran to the lobby to see what was going on.  She wasn't officially part of the crash team but George Sneedley's room was the closest to the lobby so she thought she could get there within seconds.

A woman was lying flat on the floor and a child was next to her, looking confused and frightened.  

"Are you her son?" asked a nurse.

"No...ma'am...erm...she just collapsed all of a sudden!" said the boy.

"Step aside, I'm coming through!  Said Julia.  She knelt down next to the woman and checked to see if she was still breathing.  "She's alive and breathing" said Julia to the crash team.  No visible signs of injury...OK, let's get her on the gurney and get her to triage" 

The team wasted no time in doing what Julia ordered and before long they'd taken her to triage, where she was then sent for further examinations.  Julia was then told she was no longer needed by more senior doctors.

She collected the swabs taken from George and took them down to the lab for analysis.  As she guessed, it was a skin allergy and easily treated.

"Sorry about before, George, but there was this emergency in the lobby and I had to attend to it."

"Huh, how selfish of them"

"Aaaaaaaanyway, George, I have your test results back and it is a skin allergy that's causing the blotches on your face.  If you're using a new kind of soap or skin treatment..."

"WHICH I'M NOT!" he said, loudly and indignantly

"...OK, then it's advisable to avoid using certain ones in future, especially those which has an oil base..like the kind you find in make up"

Julia was met with a hard stare. 

"That's just an example.  Anyway, here is a prescription for some tablets for you to take..."

George snatched the prescription, let out a loud "harumph" and ushered Julia out of his room.

At the end of her shift Julia returned home.  There was excitement and also George's strange, defensive behaviour but what she was now looking forward to was an evening at the humour and hijinks festival.  Julia was a member of the Dishonourable Company of Pranksters: Practical jokers extraordinaire.

One of the reasons she was looking forward to going was that she had invited a new friend, Blair Herrick, to join her.  Blair was a chemistry postgraduate student, intelligent, interesting to talk to and even Julia had to admit that he was a good looking man...not that being handsome rated highly in her list of things she liked about men.  No, to her, being handsome was merely a bonus.  Still, just picturing him made Julia feel....sensual.  It was a very new feeling for her to experience.

She thought about changing into an outfit that most people would consider to be more alluring but the festival usually involved someone getting a custard pie in the face, or wet, or covered in gunge so she opted for her regular, practical outfit.

She headed down to the festival and kept a sharp look out for her 'date', even though she didn't consider this to be a romantic date; it was just going to be two intelligent, sophisticated people enjoying one another's company and if anything were to arise then Julia would take a measured, calm approach and not act like a silly little girl with a crush.

She took a fortifying drink of punch from the Prankster's bowl; a secret recipe known only to the Grand Prankmaster, and sat down, awaiting the arrival of Blair.  Sure enough he arrived, looking stylish in a grey blazer and black turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, Julia.  How's it going?" he said.

"Fine...fine...I haven't been here long.  Did you find this place OK?" she replied.

"I couldn't miss it.  Signs everywhere, people handing out flyers for comedy acts.  So this is the Humour and Hijinks Festival is it?  I've never been before." said Blair.

"This is it" replied Julia, looking around her at all the other attendees; some of whom she knew.  "It's a comedy and practical jokes evening, a bit of fun.  Over there you have the Pranksters and opposite them are the Jokesters.  The Prankers like..."

"Pranking?" Blair interjected.

"That's right, so expect whoopee cushions, custard pies and buckets filled with confetti.  The Jokesters like firing off quick fire jokes and puns..."

"Ugh, puns..." Blair recoiled with a look of disgust on his face.

"I know!  Anyway we have these competitions; who can play the most practical jokes in 3 hours or who can tell the most one liners"

"It all sounds a bit silly" said Blair.

"It is.  That's the point.  A bit of levity in our otherwise serious lives.  That's why I joined; to take a break, to show a different side of myself."

"Have you always been a joker?" asked Blair.

"No...it's a recent thing.  I developed that side of my personality in college.  There were fellow med students who wanted to play practical jokes on campus but lacked ideas...so they came to me because they thought I was smart."

Next to Julia and Blair were three men talking loudly, using very florid words and terms.

"I find that when dealing with the none-too-bright and barely hominid types a well phrased witty riposte or play on words usually shuts them up as they try to work out what's been said to them."

"Jokesters..." whispered Julia.  "They're gearing up for a pun assault, I can tell."

"They're blabbing their plans!  Geez, do they have to be so loud?" said an increasingly annoyed Blair.

"For example..." continued the very loud man.  "...I was called a 'bastard' the other day and, quick as a flash, I responded with 'ah-ha!  Better to be conceived by a MISS, than to be MISconceived!' and he had no response.  No response at all!"

"Oh very witty, Damian, very witty." said one of his friends.

"No it wasn't!" said Blair out loud.  "That's just being pretentious!"

"Excuse me, sir, are you referring to my friends and I by that statement?" said a man with an immaculate pencil moustache and bright bleached blonde hair.

"Can you noisy fruits not be so loud and....so damn annoying!" said Blair, raising his voice.

"Fruits?  I'm just as God made me!" responded the blonde man with great indignation.

Julia felt Embarrassed at this scene.  "Blair, just leave things alone...it's meant to be a fun evening."

"Well...people like that get on my nerves!" said Blair.

"By people like that you mean?...." said Julia, nervously.

"Well...you know the type.  Gentlemen of the Lavender persuasion who are loud show offs.  Like that goddawful Truman Capote!  Every time he's on TV I have to change channels."  Blair's brows were furrowed and his cheeks were starting to go red.

The penny was dropping with Blair.  He had all this anger in him that he had concealed until now, the presence of three homosexual men had pushed a button in him and now he wasn't so handsome and charming.

"Look, this place isn't my scene...let's say we split from here and get a drink somewhere?" said Blair.

"I....enjoy the festival.  I'll stay." said Julia, looking disconsolate that, once again, a man who showed such promise had turned out to be a jerk.

"It's like that, is it?" said Blair, tetchily.

"It's like that" she replied.  "Goodnight, Blair."

He got up and stormed off, shaking his head all the way to the subway station.  Julia went in the opposite direction to seek some comfort by watching the stand up comic.

Julia was left with a sinking feeling that left her sick in the stomach.  Another prospect dashed.  Not even the comedy could cheer her up.

"He left you high and dry, eh?  Well, you dodged a bullet in my opinion" came a voice from her left.  Julia turned to see who was speaking to her and it was the man with bleach blonde hair.

"I left him as much as he left me.  Another winner I backed..." she said, with a heavy sigh.

The man was about to reply when there a came a voice over the loudspeaker.  "The result of tonight's contest is in.  Pranksters 7, Jokesters 4.  Therefore I declare the Pranksters to be the winner of this evening's Humour and Hijinks Festival, proudly sponsored by Crelm Toothpaste.  Crelm, for a minty fresh smile as you laugh the night away."

"Congratulations, Prankster..." said the blonde man.  "...in time honoured tradition the losing team buys the winner a drink.  Would you stay and have one?" 

"This isn't a rebound thing, is it?" asked Julia.

"Honey, you're not my type.  This is a genuine offer of camaraderie and consolation."

"Alright...I'll accept your offer but I'm done with men for the foreseeable!"

"That makes less competition for me!" said the man with a mischievous grin.  My name is Diego, what's yours?"

"Julia"

"Pleased to meet you Julia, what's your tipple of choice?"

Julia told Diego what she wanted and in a flash he went over to the Tiki Bar, snapped his fingers and was served instantly.  Almost as quickly as he had left to go to the bar, he was back with two exotic cocktails.

"Here's to comedy!" he said, raising a glass to hers.

"To comedy!" Julia replied.  "I'm sorry about my date...the things he said."

"You don't have to apologise for him being a jerk." Diego replied.

"I know I shouldn't but...that's the third time I've struck out in as many months!  I mean, I'm a doctor, a serious professional and I spent years avoiding romance and now...now..."

"You're inner romantic has been stirred up and it won't quieten down?"

"Yes!  That's it!  I'm sorry to be all 'poor me'.  I don't want to keep you from your friends..."

"They're not really my friends.  I mean, one of them stole some of my artwork back in the Spring and he's doing community service for my gallery so I tolerate him for now.  He does tell a good story though so it's not so bad being in his company."

"Are you a painter?" she asked.

"Art critic.  I haven't the time to paint.  I should but I prefer the company of people too much to be the tortured artist.  Let's see if my hopeless romantic soul can help yours.  Tonight's date was a jerk, what about the other two?"

"Blair...the guy you saw tonight, seemed alright.  He's a chemistry postgrad, intelligent, articulate and knowledgeable so I thought he'd be a good match.  Before him was Jude, a successful stockbroker, was successful and charming but he's still infatuated with his ex-wife and was such a lazy slob!  And then the guy who ruined it all for me:  Vincent."

"What was wrong with Vincent?" asked Diego.

Julia sighed.  "Nothing.  He was charming, intelligent, handsome...if you put such store in things like mere physical attractiveness...and so, so nice.  I mean selfless!  He went to work in the Congo helping victims of the civil war there."

"Oh unrequited love!  How well I know thee!" sighed Diego.  "I take it this Vincent was the catalyst for your romantic stirrings and since he left you've tried to find the nearest thing to him?"

"You seem to know me so well!" said Julia.

"Like I said, I'm a people person." said Diego.

"I don't like all this!  I want the romance to go away!  I want to be the strict professional woman of science again!"

"The genie's out of the bottle, honey.  As I see it, you've got three choices:  1, go to the Congo and find Vincent.  2, become a nun.  3.  Keep trying until you find someone as good or even better than Vincent.  Now with my list of contacts, I'm sure I can steer you in the direction of someone like that.  Let Diego Lobo be your guide!"

 

CHAPTER 80: The Secondee

Detective John Action walked into the squadroom at 13th Precinct HQ and saw a very smiley Sergeant Kitchen at his desk.

"Hey Sarge, you look like the cat who got the cream...and then some" said Action.

"I was on a date last night with an old flame....you could say it went very well" Sergeant Kitchen repolied.

"You sly old dog, you!" said Action, lightly hitting the Sarge on the arm with a manila folder he was holding.

"Heh, heh!" said Sarge.  "Heads up, Action, we have a new secondee to the Precinct.  A cop all the way from Munich...that's in Germany."

"I know where Munich is, Sarge.  So did they goosestep their way to work today?  Does he wear a monocle and have a square head?" Action said with a naughty smile.

"In fact I have a perfectly shaped head....and I DON'T wear a monocle" said a woman's voice behind him.  Action turned to see a tall, willowy redheaded woman wearing a lab coat right behind him.

"Oh, sorry...just a joke there" he said.

"Uh-huh?" said the woman, unimpressed.

"My name is Bibi Stahler and I am on secondment from SOKO Munchen....that's Munich, by the way"

"I know.  Well, my name's...."

Before Action could finish his sentence, Bibi interrupted him.  "Detective John Action of the 13th Precinct, Sim City.  You have been in the police department for 18 months after transferring from the United States Marine Corps.  You have the Commissioner's Commendation Medal, a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart.  Born in..."

"So you've read my file, great.  Did you do that for everyone in the department or did you single me out for special attention?" said Action, returning the compliment of interrupting her.

"Only those senior members of this precinct.  You have a reputation for tough policing, gut instincts and an impressive arrest record"

"That's not all that's impressive about me" said Action, suggestively.

"...but I noticed you haven't kept up to date with the latest forensic procedures.  In fact, you're due a refresher course on the subject" said Bibi, in fluent English but with a slight German inflection to her accent.

"Well....I could make myself available for tutoring if you're an expert in the field" he said, again suggestively.

"No need.  This booklet will cover what you need to know and we have suspects in custody that need fingerprint processing...you could start there and learn on the job" she said, handing him the booklet.

"Yes Ma'am!" said Action, mock saluting her.

"Oh man, did you even wash today?" said Action to the suspect he was meant to fingerprint.

"Well, you try giving yourself a proper clean with that small basin in there!" complained the suspect.

"Write to your congressman, I don't care" Action replied.  "Right, you know the drill...give me your right hand"

"Oh yeah, then what am I going to use to eat with?"

"You're a regular funny guy" said an unimpressed Action, grabbing the suspects hand and referring to his official notebook on correct fingerprinting procedure.

"I am impressed, Detective Action" said Bibi after he had completed the fingerprinting and handed her the file.  "You managed to complete the task successfully"

"It's just getting a mucky cook's fingerprints onto a pad of paper...nothing to it" he replied, nonchalantly.

"OK, quit the banter" said the Chief.  "We've got a group of people out front kicking up a storm about a fight at an art gallery of all places.  Their spokesman making the complaint is a close personal friend of the Mayor's and he's threatening all kinds of complaints if we don't sort out his problem.  Action, Stahler, quit yapping and see what the fuss is about"

"It may be just a load of pretty pictures to you but some of those were priceless artworks!" said a very irate voice in the precinct lobby.

"Alright, what's the problem here?" said the Chief

"Are you in charge?" said a very flamboyantly dressed man.  "My name is Diego Lobo and I wish to make a complaint on behalf of the artistic community of San Myshuno.  We have been attacked, vandalised and....mocked!" he said, his voice almost breaking with emotion.

"Did you recognise anyone who did the vandalising and....mockery?" said Action.

"No...they wore ski masks.  They were absolute hooligans!"

"They were!" said another man, less flamboyantly dressed than Mr Lobo but still in a manner that suggested he was a struggling artist"

"OK, so what did they do...specifically?" asked Bibi

"Well, they burst in to a private viewing of my friend's exhibition, started shouting 'DEATH TO THE BOURGEOIS DEGENERATES!" and proceeded to smash some of the artworks, particularly the sculptures, or else pour black paint all over the paintings.  They're ruined! RUINED!"

"Hmmm" said Bibi.  "This sounds similar to the kind of anarchist gangs that spring up in various parts of Europe.  Tell me, did any of them have any kind of European accent?"

"Well...come to think of it, I think one of them sounded French" said Diego, thinking about it.  "But what are you going to do about this outrage?" he demanded.

"Chief...I'll look into this matter." said Action.

"OK...but it sounds like Stahler might have some useful experience and knowledge about these kind of anarchist gangs.  I'll assign her to your case as well"

"OK, Chief...but first we're going to need a full statement from all of you..." said Action to the Lobo and his colleagues "and then Officer Stahler here will lead a forensic team to go over the gallery where this happened"

"Oh, do I have to recount that horrible scene all over again?" said Lobo, exasperated.  "I need to sit down and catch my breath!"

Action took down statements and Stahler went with a crime scene team to dust for prints and look for other clues.  Already the feeling was that it was the work of a political group and Action started to compile a list of suspects already on file.

When the shift was over he headed over to The Blue Velvet for a couple of drinks and to recharge his batteries.  He noticed that Suzy Kent was sitting at the bar.

"Hey Suzy...all on your lonesome?" he said, sitting down next to her at the bar.

"I'm here with some work colleagues" she said.  "And you?"

"Just winding down after a long shift....say, you're a journalist"

"Well, mostly a fashion journalist"

"Sure...but you've been working on other articles.  In your researches, have you come across any European political agitators in the city?"

Suzy thought.  "Nothing comes to mind....I did witness a demonstration against the Landgraab Corporation from bulldozing down a residential district."

"Hmmm, I need to hit the streets again to find out more" said a resigned Action.  "But that's tomorrow...tonight's a different matter, let me buy you a drink"

Action and Suzy enjoyed another round of drinks but he was getting tired and needed to head home.  On his way his attention was drawn to one of the Lothario Kittens standing outside of The Blue Velvet.  They must be having some kind of special event down there, he thought.  He pushed thoughts of tiredness out of his mind and headed back to the bar.