"Not really allowed, sir. It's expected that everyone in England — HM's subjects *and her guests* — will assist the police with their inquiries. Required, actually."
Reminded of his precarious immigration status, Art lost his attitude. "Once more for you, three more times for your partner, and we're done, right? I want to get home."
"We'll see, sir."
Art recited the facts a third time, and they waited while Linda finished her third recounting.
He switched over to PC DeMoss, who pointed his comm expectantly. "Is all this just to make people reluctant to call the cops? I mean, this whole procedure seems like a hell of a disincentive."
"Just the way we do things, sir," PC DeMoss said without rancor. "Now, let's have it, if you please?"
From a few yards away, Linda laughed at something PC McGivens said, which just escalated Art's frustration. He spat out the description three times fast. "Now, I need to find a toilet. Are we done yet?"
"'Fraid not, sir. Going to have to come by the Station House to look through some photos. There's a toilet there."
"It can't wait that long, officer."
PC DeMoss gave him a reproachful look.