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to the scene of the crime.’
    Sergeant Crowley sighed. He would’ve liked to have gone to the pub, or at least the taco bar. All that talk of refried beans had made him hungry. But solving the only other pressing matter on his plate that day would make things easier for him in the long run. Plus, he suspected that if he didn’t cooperate, Friday would only embarrass him again.

Chapter 4

The Real Culprit
    Friday, Uncle Bernie, Sergeant Crowley and Malcolm all stood in the field at the back of Mrs Knox’s house. Mrs Knox was the well-to-do lawyer’s wife whose bracelet had been stolen. Strictly speaking, the field was a park. But the council had not gone to much trouble to turn it into what people normally think of when they hear the word ‘park’. It was just a field with grass and a few trees, which was  actually rather nice. Friday could see why thewealthy Mr  and Mrs Knox would choose a house overlooking this greenery.
    â€˜So why were you walking this way?’ Friday asked Malcolm.
    â€˜Because he was looking for houses to break into,’ said Sergeant Crowley, rolling his eyes.
    â€˜I didn’t want to walk down the main street,’ explained Malcolm, ‘I didn’t want to be stared at. I was just cutting through the town along the back streets.’
    â€˜Where were you headed?’ asked Friday.
    â€˜I’ve got a place a few kilometres north-west of here,’ said Malcolm.
    â€˜Really?’ said Friday. ‘That would be near our school, Highcrest Academy. Have you heard of it?’
    â€˜It rings a bell,’ said Malcolm.
    â€˜Mrs Knox is expecting us,’ said Sergeant Crowley. ‘Are we going to go and look at the house or not? I’ve been yelled at by her enough this morning. I’d like to minimise the amount of yelling she does at me this afternoon.’
    â€˜Yes, absolutely,’ said Friday. ‘Lead the way.’
    Sergeant Crowley took them through a gate in Mrs Knox’s back fence and across the yard. There wasa deck at the rear of the house. Mrs Knox was standing there, waiting for them. ‘Is this the vagabond?’ she asked on spotting Malcolm.
    â€˜The suspect,’ said Sergeant Crowley.
    â€˜The alleged suspect,’ corrected Friday.
    â€˜Give me my bracelet back!’ demanded Mrs Knox.
    â€˜He doesn’t have it on him,’ said Sergeant Crowley.
    â€˜He’s probably sold it already,’ accused Mrs Knox.
    â€˜He doesn’t have any cash on him either,’ said Sergeant Crowley.
    â€˜You should be ashamed,’ accused Mrs Knox.
    â€˜Please don’t harass the prisoner,’ said Sergeant Crowley.
    â€˜I’m not,’ said Mrs Knox, turning on the sergeant. ‘I’m talking to you. You should be ashamed. What sort of police force are you running here, if this type of miscreant is allowed to wander the streets?’
    â€˜Can you show me where the bracelet was?’ asked Friday.
    â€˜Who’s this?’ asked Mrs Knox. ‘Have you invited the work-experience girl to come and have a looky-loo around my home?’
    â€˜She’s my legal counsel,’ said Malcolm.
    â€˜Ha!’ scoffed Mrs Knox. ‘Still, I suppose I should be happy you’ve chosen an adolescent to represent you. It should make the trial nice and quick.’ She opened the back door and walked in. Everyone else followed. ‘The bathroom is here.’
    Friday, Uncle Bernie, Sergeant Crowley and Malcolm entered. It was large for a bathroom, but even the largest bathroom is never really a large room, so with everyone standing there it was quite a squash.
    Friday squeezed her way over to the window. ‘And this is where you left your bracelet?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Mrs Knox, ‘I always take my jewellery off and put it there. Normally I wouldn’t expect the local police to allow prison escapees to roam around my back