Whoever the motorcar belonged to - a certain Hawaiian-Scottish aristocrat? -, it wasn't his. But if it would still be there when he got back, Arthur would probably decide to take his own into town next time, lest anyone should think he was behind in fashion.

Arthur turned around, while the constable behind him scampered with a "Yes sir." It had to be a funny view, two middle aged men, well dressed and with an air of being in charge, leaning on their cane and looking at one another. Arthur couldn't find fault with him on first view - other than him not wearing a uniform - and he wasn't planning on starting out on wrong terms with the inspector himself. He was here because he hoped to find allies and improve this town.

"Lord Arthur McPadraic," he introduced himself. "I've been involved in local government and am delighted to see that they have finally managed to put together a decent police team. I must have written and gone up to London a hundred times just to tell them we need reinforcement. You have no idea what we've suffered under..." He stopped himself and smiled. "But I will not trouble you with all that. You're here. I came to welcome you," because obviously it was his town, "and to let you know that if there is anything I can help with in terms of resources or information, I would be happy to help. And to call your attention to a project I run to help street children. But perhaps we should wait until the Sergeant is here." He smiled pleasantly in a way that was probably unpleasant to look at.