“There was once a time when my assistance was requested by those in charge. I wasn’t the Superintendent General’s spoiled son that the inspectors had to humor and ‘deal with,’ but someone who was actually wanted. Scotland Yard’s police chief, a man by the name of Robert Hale, often asked after me, for no reason other than that I was capable and they trusted me. 

"In particular, I remember the night I managed to catch a man who had been setting up bombs on the underside of vehicles in the downtown areas of London. He’d killed several officers that way, all as a distraction for the men he was working with, who were set to break into several banks simultaneously. The force found its hands tied, unable to mobilize effectively for fear of losing more of their men.

"To make a long story short, I was able to recognize the pattern as requested, suggested a counter movement, and went after the culprit myself. He hadn’t expected a 15 year-old boy to pick him out of the crowd, I’ll tell you that. I was caught in a blast, but we got our man, and Mr. Hale came to see me in the hospital. He told me he’d made the right decision to ask for me, despite the injuries. 

"It was, and still is, one of the proudest moments of my career. And it’s days like this that make me wonder why I ever left home.”