ir, but it's procedure.
Worked out by some clever lad using statistics. All this, it increases our
success rate. 'Sproven."

Here it was. Some busy tribalist provocateur, some compatriot of Fede, had
stirred the oats into Her Majesty's Royal Constabulary. Art snuck a look at
Linda, who was no doubt being subjected to the same procedure by PC DeMoss.
She'd lost her rigid, angry posture, and was seemingly -- amazingly -- enjoying
herself, chatting up the constable like an old pal.

"How many more times have we got to do this, officer?"

"This is the last time you'll have to repeat it to me."

Art's professional instincts perked up at the weasel words in the sentence. "To
you? Who else do I need to go over this with?"

The officer shook his head, caught out. "Well, you'll have to repeat it three
times to PC DeMoss, once he's done with your friend, sir. Procedure."

"How about this," Art says, "how about I record this last statement to you with
my comm, and then I can *play it back* three times for PC DeMoss?"

"Oh, I'm sure that won't do, sir. Not really the spirit of the thing, is it?"

"And what *is* the spirit of the thing? Humiliation? Boredom? An exercise in raw
power?"

PC McGivens lost his faint smile. "I really couldn't say, sir. Now, again if you
please?"

"What if I don't please? I haven't been assaulted. I haven't been robbed. It's
none of my business. What if I walk away right now?"

"Not really allowed, sir. It's expected that everyone in England -- HM's
subjects *and her guests* -- will assist the police with their inquiries.
Required, actually."

Reminded of his precarious immigration status, Art lost his attitude. "Once more
for you, three more times for your partner, and we're done, right? I want to get
home."

"We'll see, sir."

Art recited the facts a third time, and they waited while Linda finished her
third recounting.

He switched over to PC DeMoss, who pointed his comm expectantly. "Is all this
just to make people reluctant to call the cops? I mean, this whole procedure
seems like a hell of a disincentive."

"Just the way we do things, sir," PC DeMoss said without rancor. "Now, let's
have it, if you please?"

From a few yards away, Linda laughed at something PC McGivens said, which just
escalated Art's frustration. He spat out the description three times fast. "Now,
I need to find a toilet. Are we done yet?"

"'Fraid not, sir. Going to have to come by the Station House to look th