On Saturday morning at nine o’clock, a van from the local council pulled up on Clover Lane. Out stepped a uniformed officer from the Animal Management division — a serious woman named Officer Hadley, whom Walter had phoned two weeks earlier to report the ongoing issue and politely request an educational visit. Behind her van came another car: a journalist from the local community newspaper, tipped off by Mrs. Chen about a story on “neighbourhood pet responsibility.” And parked at the end of the street, looking very official, was a portable display board that Danny had helped Walter build, covered in laminated photographs.
The photographs showed every incident over the past eighteen months. They were date-stamped, clearly labelled, and neatly arranged. Walter had been keeping them in a folder. There was Biscuit. There were the terriers. There was Tank. And there were the owners — phones in hands, backs turned, leashes slack. It was thorough and polite, but absolutely irrefutable. Officer Hadley studied the board for a full minute, then exhaled slowly through her nose. “Mr. Briggs,” she said, “you have done my job for me.” The journalist was already taking notes.