The phones went crazy in the FOG. Eric had gone for a sleep, so in his absence deputy commander Ernest took the decision to call in extra staff to help take the calls. It seemed as if everyone in the entire of the Outer Galaxy knew Jake. He had apparently been out walking four thousand two hundred and twenty three dogs so far today and he played up front for twelve different Sunday league football teams. He'd been seen collaborating with aliens behind the Central Library in Upper Riblington two weeks ago. Tom's mate who knows Brian who works in the fish market knows someone who collects ladybirds shoes. Well she swapped a stuffed parrot for a cucumber with Dilbert's sister, who actually went out on a date to a porcupine graveyard with Jake yesterday. That one was really easy to spot as a fake. Nobody would ever go on a date with a man as useless as Jake.

But then FOG got a call which Ernest truly thought was real. He woke Eric, who took over the questioning.

“Hello,” began Eric. He really knew how to start up a conversation when it mattered.

“Erm... hi,” said the female voice. “Is that who I need to speak to about Jake Spencer?”

“Yes, it is. Eric Smythe speaking. I’m heading the investigation,”

“Oh, that's good Eric. They put me through to the weather forecasters first but now I must be in the right department. I was just watching the telly and my programme was interrupted for the news. I just had to ring you. I know that Jake Spencer you are looking for.”

“Really?” Eric paused. “Do you have information on where he is? Have you killed him?”

“Yes. I mean no! I have some information, I haven't killed him. I wouldn't do that.”

“Why not? He's the most dangerous man in the universe!”

There was a little bit of laughter before the lady started to speak again.

“No he's not,” she assured Eric. “He's a lovely lad. My Jakey would never do this, you've made a mistake!”

“Your Jakey?” repeated Eric. “Who is this?”

“It's Rosemary,” said the voice. “Rosemary Spencer. I'm Jake's Mom.”

Eric looked around the room emphatically. “Bring her in!” he cried.

Two seconds later and a blue light flashed along the teleportation stand. A confused looking brunette lady stood there in her dressing gown and slippers, a cup of tea in her hand.

“Rosemary Spencer,” stated Eric, opening the glass doors to let her out into the room. “Welcome to FOG.”

“You could have let me brush my hair first,” whined an embarrassed Rosemary. “And I've not even put any clothes on yet.”

Eric wasn't bothered. Her questioning would begin right away.