I'd attended a stag meet, where drinks were served in the course of business and was returning in my car on completion, feeling generally nice and happy. The time was a trifle beyond 2230 hrs, the roads were comparatively empty and I was cruising at an easy speed with the FM radio as company.
As I was taking the penultimate turn to my house, a couple of policemen, on duty, flagged me to a stop to undergo an alcohol test. No sooner had I rolled down my window to 'confess' that I'd indeed downed a couple over the evening, one of them thrust the offensive looking meter close to my mouth and asked me to blow into the mouthpiece. Resigned to my fate, I blew into the meter but unexpectedly, the instrument stayed quiet and the policemen quickly lost interest and allowed me to proceed onward.
I was thrilled, no not because I'd passed muster but because of the avoidance of unpleasantness that usually follows a detection through a strange quirk of fate. But the following doubts niggled me:-
(a) Did the police lose interest as a huge station wagon came thundering behind me, who to them, was the perfect fall guy because I happened to be from the armed forces?
(b) Was the meter really operational? Or was it part of a purchase riddled with a scam? Had I unwittingly stumbled on to another sensational story?
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