"18 then?" Bert's eyes scanned the scribbles that recorded the villainy for all time. "I'm afraid not, sir. We're not holdin' anyone by that name. If you'll excuse me for just a moment, Mr. Blacke." Bert moved away from the counter to confer with his superior. His tone was a little quieter.

"Sarge, a gent is here looking for his son, a Joseph Blacke. Where is the current missing persons book?"

The senior policeman paused his battle with this new typewriting contraption and pointed to a leather bound volume lying nearby. Bert retrieved it and returned to the front counter.

"This is the missing persons book, Mister Blacke." Bert scanned its most recent pages. Lots of young kids, but no 18 year olds. "He's not 'ere either. There is probably no cause for alarm, sir. I mean he is a young lad, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you that young lads do silly things at that age. Would you still like to file a report?"