Some days, Officer Adanne Amaechi really would like to hang every costumed vigilante by their feet, and lower them into a septic tank.
Most of them were well-meaning, sure, and a few actually did good, but thinking of the cases where due process was violated, or proof had to be thrown out because it had been handed in anonymously, with no way to check if it was collected or faked, made her sick. And then there were the ones whose methods where just so god damn irritating.
She had had to leave one of her shoes behind next to the would-be bank robber, who was still stuck doubled over on the floor. Whoever was responsible for the mess had disappeared, and not left information how police could get the suspect from the floor without ripping the skin from his hands.
Nearby the bank manager sat rather uncomfortably on the floor, ranting about his ruined Armani suit.
Adanne again tried to interrupt him, "Sir, it would be more helpful if you'd try to describe the woman with the glue gun."
She hoped the colleague she had detailed to find some turpentine would show up soon.
