Once A Crook

...always a crook.   Stan had paid his debt to society and gone straight ever since.   At least that's what Zoe thought...

    As Stan stared at the policemen his face was a white mask, the small muscles in his jaw working furiously as he clenched his teeth together.  Outside the panda car was waiting, another policeman leaning carelessly against it.
    “Get your coat, Mr. Harris,” the policeman said wearily.   “We’ll finish this off down the station.   There’s a lot of enquiries to make and we’re still waiting to hear if the caretaker will recover.”
    “Look, I was nowhere near that warehouse, and I didn’t beat up that old man!” Stan told him for the umpteenth time.   “I was here - at home.”
    “Maybe you were,” the policeman replied.   “But your wife can’t verify that.   If she was out till midnight and the robbery was just after eleven - that gives you time to do the job and get home.   Which means you haven’t got an alibi.”
    Stan glared at him, his eyes cold.


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