I am woken by an early morning phone call.
"Hello, this is PC Name Redacted from A-Cardiff police station. I'm calling because we recovered some stolen property overnight, which included a pair of binoculars. There was a pair of binoculars inside the car you reported as stolen on Tuesday, wasn't there?"
"There was indeed," I say. "In fact, there were two pairs. The car belonged to my dad who died last year, you see, and he used to like a bit of bird-watching."
"Could you describe the binoculars?" Constable Redacted enquires keenly.
"Um, they were binoculars, really. Black. No idea of the make. One pair was quite big and heavy, and the other pair was smaller. The big pair was old, the small pair more modern."
"Did the smaller pair have a cord to go round your neck or anything?" he asks, feigning casualness.
I hesitate. In a court of law, this could be construed as a leading question. I do not want my quest for justice to be tarnished by dubious evidence. The theft of a 1990 Ford Escort Eclipse from the road outside one's property is, after all, a significant and heinous crime.
"I think so. I can't really remember. Yes, it might've done."
"And did it have a pouch, some sort of carry-case?"
"It would've been in a plasticky leather-effect pouch with a fold-over, erm, thing. Pretty sure of that."
His breath quickens.
"Could you come up to the station to have a look?"
"Well I could, but it'd take me a while to get there - I'm on foot."
"You don't have a car?"
"Er, it was stolen."
There is a pause, in which I can actually hear him cringeing.
"Oh my god, that was so stupid, what a stupid thing to say, I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry."
"Shall I bring them to you?"
"If you like."
Ten minutes later, he arrives clutching a large brown evidence bag. He produces the binoculars with a flourish and an expectant grin.
"Nope," I say.
"Not yours?" He looks stunned.
I shake my head.
His face falls, his shoulders slump. He looks so deflated, I wonder if I should give him a hug.
"Oh. I really thought they might be... ah well, never mind." He turns to go. "It's just that - well, binoculars..."
I nod sympathetically.
"I honestly thought..."
He sighs. "Oh well. Thanks anyway."
"Well, thank YOU," I say. "Bye. And good luck with, erm, everything."