I was reminded this morning just how marvellous our Victoria Police are when one of their hard-working and, no doubt, stunningly beautiful officers rang me at work to tell me that The Stolen Falcon had been found.
The car was exactly where the professional and, no doubt, witty and good-fun-at-parties officer told me it would be: in a side-street off Sydney Road, with no more than a busted driver-side doorlock, a missing rear quarter panel window and an empty fuel tank.
I admit that when I got there I saw no evidence of the mammoth forensic examination of the crime scene I was expecting. There wasn't any tape roping off the area; no crowd of dashing red-headed detectives keen to further their careers scrabbling under the seats wearing rubber gloves and yelling “A hair! Take this to the lab. Stat!”
However my own sleuthery managed to uncover the clue that the perp (see! I'm so down with the lingo) was a shortass. I was able to deduce this vital evidence by having to move the seat back when I got in and then having to re-adjust the rear vision mirror. In your face, Sherlock Holmes!
So, I'm a big fan of the Victoria Police. When you next see a helpful and, no doubt, riot-in-the-sack officer I want you to form a parade and give three cheers because they've made at least one Harpo very happy.