Friday 04.11.2016 National Police, Alexandras Avenue, Athens
"That's garbage, no argument!" I say, although I'm not sure. Marcos has been trying for a few minutes to take a perfect photo of the picture with the little boy for himself so he can have it at home.
"Why would he hide it from his parents, what's the big deal?"
Marcos clears his throat. "Did you tell your parents everything back then?" There is the sound of an incoming email. Just another status report from a museum about new exhibitions.
It will probably be like this all day. I try to turn my attention to the emails and away from the subject, because what I told my parents is frighteningly little. What's more, it wasn't always true, for example how many apples or corn on the cob my friends and I stole. "Heavens, we have no other choice. You talk and I'll drive."
"Sure! According to our system, it's your turn again anyway."
"What system?"
He imitates our boss and waves it off. Before we set off, Marcos announces the visit. As you would expect, the parents are shocked. If I had children and the international police questioned them about a burglary, I would probably be shocked too.
The problem is, I don't have children. Although that's not a big problem, because if I had children right now, without a girlfriend... No!
The boy, with the beautiful name Narcissus, is currently at school and the parents don't want to pull him out of class because of this. I think this venture is a waste of time. What can he tell us? Just facts that we already know.
Me and Marcos linger in the office and check the emails. We don't get any answers from the criminal records, they seem to be taking all the time in the world. It's not as if we need the information urgently. The answers are probably so late because someone extended their lunch break by ten minutes. I wish we could. Maybe the Poliatos couple don't want their stuff back, because apparently, they only spent fifteen euros on it. For us, on the other hand, it's a matter of honor and recognition. First impressions are important and when you think about what's to come, it's a laughingstock.
Friday 04.11.2016 The scene of the crime, Rodou 32, Athens
I'm not a psychologist, nor do I have much experience with young children, but a child's room must be a good place for a serious conversation.
The walls are painted a grass green. This boy is unmistakably a soccer fan. He has a carpet with the lines of a pitch, soccer bedding, soccer books, self-explanatory some soccer balls and other things that start with soccer. I am therefore very surprised when he invites Tobias and me to sit on his non-soccer beanbag.
So we sit in his room. Three decent gentlemen, ready for a conversation about the good of the world, from the boy's point of view it may be the situation. I hope he takes his words just as seriously and honestly. Since our little friend likes to take the field, he excitedly asks us the first question before I'm sure how to phrase mine.
"When you find the criminals, are you going to shoot them?"
I don't know in what world criminals are simply shot or who talked him into it, but to keep hold of him I say: "Of course we will. But we'll need your help." He nods eagerly and waits to get his assignment. Spying on someone, blending in somewhere with a secret identity, shooting a few burglars here and there and other fantasy scenes that form in his head.
"Can I ride in your patrol car then?"
Unexpectedly, Tobias answers him. "If you're robbing a bank, you can certainly have a go." He delights in teasing children; I could have strangled him. We're not here to get kids on the wrong track, however, we'd always have work then.
"So, did you see or hear anything the night of the break-in?"
Visibly disappointed by this simple question, he ponders: "I don't like going to bed so early at night. After all, I'm already big and not tired at all. So, when I heard noises from the garden that evening, I looked out of the window."
Narcissus points to the small window overlooking the garden. It's true, if the suspects came from there, the parents have no chance of hearing anything because their bedroom faces the street. "There were six huge people dressed in black who then entered the house." He makes a wide arc with his hands to give his statement strength and truth.
"I crept downstairs and saw them wrapping the figures in paper and speaking in an alien language." I look over at Tobias' notepad, who is writing down 'children tend to exaggerate', which captures my thoughts quite well.
At least we can now say for sure that there were several people, even if there were only three, four or five instead of six, and they don't have to be tall and dressed in black, let alone aliens. "Then what happened?" I ask.
"Then? I got myself a glass of milk after they left and went to bed. Oh, and I bumped into the little table in the hallway on my way back, if you're interested." We look at each other in silence.
That must have been what Sebastianos heard.
"You didn't tell your parents. Why?" He thinks and thinks, straining, his eyes narrowed as he stares at the ceiling. A minute pass, two. If he says 'I don't know' now, I'll... Nothing, I let him think for another two minutes. Tobias leans over to me. "He's thinking about something else. See?"
I don't see much, except how his gaze wanders over to the poster on the wall, apparently his favorite club. Tobias has a keen sense of observation, which is something I really appreciate about him. I clear my throat and Narcissus wakes up from his trance. "I um... I don't know. They couldn't have done anything, and they wouldn't believe me."
I pause. "You could have alerted the police earlier, then we would have caught the criminals sooner." Narcissus looks anxious. "Am I going to prison now?"
"No." I reassure him, "If you don't want to say anything more, we're done here." Tobias closes his notepad with a relieved sigh and stands up. "Can I ride in your car?" the boy asks, turning to him.
"Like I said, if you rob a bank," he replies with a wry smile. I follow him out of the room and take one last critical look at the furniture. "Don't listen to him," I tell the boy before leaving the room completely.
We reassure the parents that everything is fine, they don't need to worry anymore. We take over.
"Aliens! I hate children for their imagination." Tobias shakes his head on the way to the car.
"You also believe in God, whose existence has never been proven.", I remind him. He stops in front of the car and strokes the hood.
"That's different."
"Anyway, we can be sure," I reply, "that they come from abroad, which makes this case one of the international ones and fits right into our subject area." We get into the car and drive back to read up on more emails and share our new findings.
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