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policeman replaced the receiver. “Hold on a minute,” he said. “You’ll be telling me next you haven’t renewed your road tax…”

      “I haven’t,” said Paddington. He stared back at the man with growing excitement. It really was uncanny the way he knew about all the things he hadn’t got.

      “I’m glad I came here,” he said. “I didn’t know you had to pay taxes.”

      “Ignorance of the law is no excuse,” said the policeman sternly. Reaching under the counter he produced a large card showing a selection of pictures.

      “I take it you are conversant with road signs?”

      Paddington peered at the card. “We didn’t have anything like that in Darkest Peru,” he said. “But there’s one near where I live.”

      The policeman pointed at random to one of the pictures. “What does that one show?”

      “A man trying to open an umbrella,” said Paddington promptly. “I expect it means it’s about to rain.”

      “It’s meant to depict a man with a shovel,” said the policeman wearily. “That means there are roadworks ahead. If you ask me, you need to read your Highway Code again. Unless, of course…”

      “You’re quite right,” broke in Paddington, more than ever pleased he had come to the police station. “I’ve never read it.”

      “I think it’s high time I saw your driving licence.” said the policeman.

      “I haven’t got one of those either,” exclaimed Paddington excitedly.

      “Insurance?”

      “What’s that?” asked Paddington.

      “What’s that?” repeated the policeman. “What’s that?”

      He ran his fingers round the inside of his collar. The room had suddenly become very hot. “You’ll be telling me next,” he said, “that you haven’t even passed your driving test.”

      “You’re quite right,” said Paddington excitedly. “I took it once by mistake, but I didn’t pass because I drove into the examiner’s car. I was in Mr Brown’s car at the time and I had it in reverse by mistake. I don’t think he was very pleased.”

      “Examiners are funny that way,” said the policeman. “Bears like you are a menace to other road users.”

      “Oh, I never go on the road,” said Paddington. “Not unless I have to. I always stick to the path.”

      The policeman gave him a long, hard look. He seemed to have grown older in the short time Paddington had been there. “You do realise,” he said, “that I could throw the book at you.”

      “I hope you don’t,” said Paddington earnestly. “I’m not very good at catching things. It isn’t easy with paws.”

      The policeman looked nervously over his shoulder before reaching into his back pocket.

      “Talking of paws,” he said casually, as he came round to the front of the counter. “Would you mind holding yours out in front of you?”

      Paddington did as he was bidden, and to his surprise there was a click and he suddenly found his wrists held together by some kind of chain.

      “I hope you have a good lawyer,” said the policeman. “You’re going to need one. You won’t have a leg to stand on otherwise.”

      “I shan’t have a leg to stand on?” repeated Paddington in alarm. He gave the man a hard stare. “But I had two when I came in!”

      “I’m going to take your dabs now,” said the policeman.

      “My dabs!” repeated Paddington in alarm.

      “Fingerprints,” explained the policeman. “Only in your case I suppose we shall have to make do with paws. First of all I want you to press one of them down on this ink pad, then on some paper, so that we have a record of it for future reference.”

      “Mrs Bird won’t be very pleased if it comes off on the sheets,” said Paddington.

      “After that,” said the policeman, ignoring the interruption, “you are allowed one telephone call.”

      “In that case,” said Paddington, “I would like to ring Sir Bernard Crumble. He lives near here. He’s supposed to very good on motoring offences. I don’t know if he does shopping baskets on wheels, but if he does, they told me in the market that he will have your guts for garters.”

      The policeman stared at him. “Did I hear you say shopping basket on wheels?” he exclaimed. “Why ever didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

      “You didn’t ask me,” said Paddington. “I have a special licence for it. It was given to me when I failed my driving test in a car. They said it would last me all my life. I expect Sir Bernard will want to see it. I keep it in a secret compartment of my suitcase. I can show it to you if you like. At least, I could if I had it with me and I was able to use my paws.”

      He stared at the policeman, who seemed to have gone a pale shade of white. “Is anything the matter?” he asked. “Would you like a marmalade sandwich? I keep one under my hat in case of an emergency.”

      The policeman shook his head. “No, thank you,” he groaned, as he removed the handcuffs. “It’s my first week on duty. They told me I might have some difficult customers to deal with, but I didn’t think it would start quite so soon…”

      “I can come back later if you like,” said Paddington hopefully.

      “I’d much rather you didn’t…” began the policeman. He broke off as a door opened and an older man came into the room. He had some stripes on his sleeve and he looked very important.

      “Ah,” said the man, consulting a piece of paper he was holding. “Bush hat… blue duffle coat… Fits the description I was given over the phone… You must be the young gentleman who’s had trouble with his shopping basket on wheels.”

      He turned to the first policeman. “You did well to keep him talking, Finsbury. Full marks.”

      “It was nothing, Sarge,” said the constable, who seemed to have got some of his colour back.

      “It seems there’s been a bit of a mix-up with the lads in the tow-away department,” continued the sergeant, turning back to Paddington. “They put your basket on their vehicle for safe keeping while they were removing a car and forgot to take it off again. It went back to the depot with them.

      “They’ve put some fresh buns in it for you. Apparently, somehow or other, the ones that were in it got lost en route. Even now, the basket’s on its way back to where you left it. And there’s nothing to pay. What do you say to that?”

      “Thank you very much, Mr Sarge,” said Paddington gratefully. “It means I shan’t have to speak to Sir Bernard Crumble after all. If you don’t mind, I shall always come here first if ever my shopping basket on wheels gets towed away.”

      “That’s what we’re here for,” said the sergeant. “Although I think I should warn you; it may be a bit heavier now than when you first set out this morning.”

      “Quite right too,” said Paddington’s friend, Mr Gruber, when they eventually sat down to their elevenses and Paddington told him the full story, including the moment when he got back to the market and found to his surprise that his basket on wheels was full to the top with fruit and vegetables.

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