George looked at the policeman. "Tch, tch," he said, shaking his head.
"What do you mean, no jewels? You hinting I'm nuts?"
"Maybe just a few drinks too many," George suggested, looking at the
jewelry.
"Why, listen--" But the policeman scratched his head.
He didn't see Arl come up behind him. Arl reached out and grabbed the
two brooches, the necklace--and then disappeared.
The policeman looked at his hand. For a long time he stared at it. His
jaw went slack.
"Jeez--" he said.
"We'll forget it," George told him. "We'll forget all about it. Now
just go home and behave yourself--and no drinking on duty, eh officer?"
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." The cop went out the door, still staring at his
hand.
In a moment, Arl was back. Narka looked at him, and George had seen
that look in Myra's eyes yesterday at their bungalow. Arl took his
wife's arm in a firm grip. "We're going home," he said.
She looked dubious, but then she rubbed her posterior, and she smiled
ruefully. "Yes, m'lord." Arl shook hands with George, waved to
Myra--and then they disappeared.