CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER Ten years ago I missed the local TV and newspaper reports about the ‘Break-in at Museum Warehouse’ and never got around to looking them up afterwards. Of course I wondered what had happened to the loot-filled backpacks, but I assumed that Emma had taken them. Thinking about that left a bitter taste in my mouth so I tried to put it out of mind. I was seriously crocked for the foreseeable future and, at least during the first few days, pumped full of painkilling drugs. Checking up on news reports about my failed exploits didn’t seem like a priority. I was way too depressed about it, about Emma, and about my physical state to have any interest in wallowing in post-heist details. Anybody can get used to crutches with a little practice. Say, about six weeks. In fact, I’d just got the hang of them when I tripped over the edge of a hospital doormat one day on my way in to see the physiotherapist. That set me back a bit. Say, about six weeks.
