Lord Fauntleroy is missing Part 2

Arthur had forgotten about the small debt when he returned from his holiday. He’d had a wonderful time and all his worries had evaporated.

He went upstairs to check the emails on his computer and was amazed at the accumulation concerning the fine for the missing book.

He read a strange series of emails where his fine had grown mysteriously to 50500 credits. This had obviously occurred through various people leaving out decimal points and misreading the amount in the first place. Further to the sum of money allegedly owed, he had been notified in his absence that the book club had transferred any monies owing to a debt collecting agency, ‘in the interests of efficiency’

It also appeared that the debt collectors had informed the police that Lord Fauntleroy was missing. An email about that statement from the Police Dept. was particularly worrying and full of assumptions and errors.

“Hi Arthur, since you were the last person to see Lord Fauntleroy, we are warning you that if you do not hand yourself in at your local nick by the 26th Oct, we will have to come round and arrest you! This can be extremely unpleasant for you! Your recent attempt to flee the country has been noted and Interpol informed in case you think of trying it on again.”

Arthur looked quickly at his watch. Today was the 25th Oct., he had to go to the police tomorrow, or suffer the consequences.

The next day he arrived nice and early at the police station. He didn’t have to wait long before his name was called and he went over to the counter to talk to the desk sergeant. These days of course the sergeant was merely a machine, but the old fashioned name had stuck.

“Got your email?” asked the sergeant. Fortunately Arthur had copied his email and put the piece of paper into the sergeant’s slot.

“Go down the corridor to your right and sit in cell 13 until you are called!”

As a good citizen Arthur did as he was told. The cell although small, was warm and comfortable with a bed to sit on. He’d hardly had time to take notice of his surroundings when he heard a rumble of wheels along the corridor.

A cylindrical machine painted blue rolled into the cell. “Follow me”, it said and went back into the corridor.

Arthur followed meekly; the police machines were not renowned for their sense of humour.

To his surprise he was lead straight into a court room. There only one other machine in there painted red and rather incongruously wearing a judicial wig!

‘Crikey,’ thought Arthur, still at least the mess would soon be sorted out, although the process did seem a little heavy handed.

“You are Arthur Smith?” asked the judge and upon hearing his reply, began to buzz electronically, lights flashing over his bodywork as he did so.

“You are the last person to see Lord Fauntleroy, who as we all know has been missing for at lest two months, probably deceased. You have attempted to bribe a debt collection company and fled abroad in a attempt to avoid the charge. You are hereby sentenced to death on a charge of murder; the lack of a body is no defence in this case. You will be taken from this court and executed on Friday Nov. 6th”

A shocked Arthur got as far saying “But I’m innocent of all...” before the policeman anaesthetised him. He woke up back in his cell, but this time the door was locked.