Keppelberg Read Free

returned dryly, ‘but I can’t fight the forces of destiny which somehow forced me to return.’ I pointed to the large area around me. ‘I’m not impeding anyone or causing any traffic problem.’ I advanced boldly. ‘So what’s troubling you?’
    â€˜This is a private village, sir,’ he snorted. ‘We don’t accept strangers visiting of their own accord.’
    â€˜It sounds like the place where I live... Cornwall.’ I commented with an element of amusement in my voice. ‘People are very much the same there.’
    He stared at me as though I had made an insolent remark. ‘Would you mind stepping out of the car, sir,’ he managed to say politely with a serious expression on his face. I paused for a moment and then complied with his request wondering what his reaction was going to be. ‘I’d like to see the documents proving that you own this car, if you don’t mind, sir.’
    I opened my wallet and produced my driving licence which I showed to him.
    â€˜This only tells me that you can drive a car, sir. I want to see documents relating to the ownership of this car?’
    â€˜Hold on!’ I protested. ‘They’re at my home... in the South West. Surely you don’t expect me to carry everything with me!’
    â€˜I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me, sir,’ he told me point-blank.
    â€˜Am I under arrest or what?’ I demanded angrily as he took a firm hold of my arm. ‘What’s your number, policeman?’
    I looked at his collar to see a silver badge with the number seven. I felt extremely degraded at being treated in this ridiculous manner. After all, I had done nothing wrong!
    â€˜This way, sir,’ ordered the officer politely. He led the way behind the shops and we walked down a street until arriving at the police station. We entered and he took me directly to the Desk Sergeant who was reading a report.
    â€˜This man, Sam Ross,’ began the arresting officer, ‘cannot produce the document proving that he’s the owner of the car he’s driven here. What do we do about it?’
    â€˜A couple of days in the cells should teach him a lesson,’ declared the Desk Sergeant roughly.
    â€˜Hey!’ I shouted irately. ‘You can’t do that! It’s not lawful! I’ve done nothing wrong!’
    â€˜I don’t see that you can do anything about it,’ uttered PC7 bluntly. ’We don’t allow lawyers to come to the village to defend miscreants ’
    â€™Miscreants!’ I echoed loudly. ’You’re supposed to follow the rules of the law. You can’t imprison me simply because I cannot produce the documents you want.’
    â€™We can do as we like here, sir,’ claimed the Desk Sergeant confidently. ’But I’ll tell you one thing we’ll do. If you leave this village immediately, we’ll forget all about it. In other words... we don’t want you here!’
    â€™Why not?’
    â€™Because you can’t... and that’s an end to it!’ stated PC7 sharply.
    â€™Okay!’ I warned him foolishly with an adamant tone in my voice. ’Lock me up at your peril but, at the end of the day, you‘ll have to face the consequences.’
    â€˜Very well,’ muttered the Desk Sergeant without emotion. ‘Come with me!’ He picked up a large set of keys and led the way forward beckoning me to follow.
    I suddenly realised that I had put my head in a noose. It was the result of a rush of blood but it was too late to do anything about it. I would have to go through with their game and endplay them when the final whistle blew. They would find themselves in a heap of trouble when the information that a hero soldier, decorated with a medal for bravery, had been incarcerated for no reason whatsoever. The national Press would make a meal of it.
    The Desk Sergeant led me to a darkened passage in the police