prat.
After a little kissing and cuddling, we retired to Jenny's kitchen and as I made the tea, she explained everything that had happened in my absence. I had learnt enough not to say 'I told you so' though I did think it.
"Fluffy's returned to the Bat Cave?" I asked.
"I suppose so. Oh Jake, what are we going to do about that reporter? He has all those pictures of Fluffy."
"You know this reporter’s name though?"
"Peter Williams, it was in his report."
"Do you think you can find out where he lives, using the internet or something?"
Jenny hesitated. I have difficulty finding porn on the internet so that will tell you just how useless I am with it. I've little affinity for technology, which is one reason I left school with nothing much in the way of qualifications.
"He might be in the phone book," she suggested dubiously. "Reporters probably like to be found."
I had my doubts about it, but again, I wisely kept my counsel on the matter. Jenny seemed to have forgotten we had broken up and I wasn't going to give her any excuses to remember.
He wasn't in the phone book, but he did have a website and it had his home address on it. Maybe reporters do want to be found after all, or possibly Peter Williams was not much cleverer than me. Either way, it gave me a course of action.
"I'm going over there," I said glibly, "You wait here."
"You aren't just leaving me," Jenny said in outrage, "I'm coming too."
"It might be dangerous." I didn't mention that wandering around in her dressing gown in the middle of the night might get us noticed. See how quickly I'm learning and maturing?
"How would you get there if I don't drive you?" Jenny asked. She had a point, the address was in an area of the town I didn't know well enough to skip to.
"You'll have to get dressed first though."
I think that was the first time Jenny realized she was still wearing her dressing gown. She had the grace to blush before running upstairs to get changed. I was a bit worried her parents might wake with all the noise she was making, but it seems her parents sleep much more soundly than my Mum does.
Jenny was down the stairs again in less than five minutes. I think that might be a record for womankind. I must check in the Guinness Book of Records when I get the chance, though I've noticed they never record the really useful stuff.
The drive over to the Hamble estate was uneventful. The estate was a new development along the river and even the smallest flats were expensive. I wondered how anyone on a reporter's salary could afford to buy one. They were priced well beyond my wildest dreams.
"Number 127B," I reminded Jenny as we drove down the road. She pulled into one of the residents parking spots without even looking at the house numbers.
"That's his car," she told me as she pointed to a black SUV with tinted windows. "It's burned into my mind."
We got out of Jenny's car and walked to the nearest block of flats. Brass plates with call buttons covered the wall. There was a video and intercom system so people in the flats could see their callers before deciding to let them in.
The flats were protected from intruders by a locked door from which corridors and stairs led off to individual flats. Jenny located Peter Williams' flat on the brass plate and was about to press the button when I grabbed her arm.
"Let’s try it my way first," I suggested.
I'd never tried to break into a house before, so this would be a novel use of my powers. Still, if I could make an ordinary ring shoot fire I should be able to spring a Yale lock.
"Open," I told it, with my hand against it. The lock buzzed as the electric circuit closed and I pushed the door open. "Coming?" I asked.
"I didn't know you could do that," Jenny whispered excitedly as we followed the arrows on the wall for flat numbers 125B to 130B. The B flats were on the first floor so we had to go up a couple of flights of stairs.
"You never know until you try," I pointed out.
"What do we do now?"
After a little kissing and cuddling, we retired to Jenny's kitchen and as I made the tea, she explained everything that had happened in my absence. I had learnt enough not to say 'I told you so' though I did think it.
"Fluffy's returned to the Bat Cave?" I asked.
"I suppose so. Oh Jake, what are we going to do about that reporter? He has all those pictures of Fluffy."
"You know this reporter’s name though?"
"Peter Williams, it was in his report."
"Do you think you can find out where he lives, using the internet or something?"
Jenny hesitated. I have difficulty finding porn on the internet so that will tell you just how useless I am with it. I've little affinity for technology, which is one reason I left school with nothing much in the way of qualifications.
"He might be in the phone book," she suggested dubiously. "Reporters probably like to be found."
I had my doubts about it, but again, I wisely kept my counsel on the matter. Jenny seemed to have forgotten we had broken up and I wasn't going to give her any excuses to remember.
He wasn't in the phone book, but he did have a website and it had his home address on it. Maybe reporters do want to be found after all, or possibly Peter Williams was not much cleverer than me. Either way, it gave me a course of action.
"I'm going over there," I said glibly, "You wait here."
"You aren't just leaving me," Jenny said in outrage, "I'm coming too."
"It might be dangerous." I didn't mention that wandering around in her dressing gown in the middle of the night might get us noticed. See how quickly I'm learning and maturing?
"How would you get there if I don't drive you?" Jenny asked. She had a point, the address was in an area of the town I didn't know well enough to skip to.
"You'll have to get dressed first though."
I think that was the first time Jenny realized she was still wearing her dressing gown. She had the grace to blush before running upstairs to get changed. I was a bit worried her parents might wake with all the noise she was making, but it seems her parents sleep much more soundly than my Mum does.
Jenny was down the stairs again in less than five minutes. I think that might be a record for womankind. I must check in the Guinness Book of Records when I get the chance, though I've noticed they never record the really useful stuff.
The drive over to the Hamble estate was uneventful. The estate was a new development along the river and even the smallest flats were expensive. I wondered how anyone on a reporter's salary could afford to buy one. They were priced well beyond my wildest dreams.
"Number 127B," I reminded Jenny as we drove down the road. She pulled into one of the residents parking spots without even looking at the house numbers.
"That's his car," she told me as she pointed to a black SUV with tinted windows. "It's burned into my mind."
We got out of Jenny's car and walked to the nearest block of flats. Brass plates with call buttons covered the wall. There was a video and intercom system so people in the flats could see their callers before deciding to let them in.
The flats were protected from intruders by a locked door from which corridors and stairs led off to individual flats. Jenny located Peter Williams' flat on the brass plate and was about to press the button when I grabbed her arm.
"Let’s try it my way first," I suggested.
I'd never tried to break into a house before, so this would be a novel use of my powers. Still, if I could make an ordinary ring shoot fire I should be able to spring a Yale lock.
"Open," I told it, with my hand against it. The lock buzzed as the electric circuit closed and I pushed the door open. "Coming?" I asked.
"I didn't know you could do that," Jenny whispered excitedly as we followed the arrows on the wall for flat numbers 125B to 130B. The B flats were on the first floor so we had to go up a couple of flights of stairs.
"You never know until you try," I pointed out.
"What do we do now?"
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