The werewolf sat patiently, not far from the barbeque which had been set up in the minister’s garden. He had been told to watch one person in particular, and as far as possible not to lose sight of them. He wasn’t enjoying the task, but he wasn’t going to let the team down.

Two small boys were taking great delight in holding their hot dogs out towards him and then, when he reached out, snatching them away and eating another bite, and then laughing.

The werewolf was pleased when he saw Ros Myers walking over towards him. He was even happier when she said to the parent who had been watching the boys, “I would prefer it if they didn’t tease my dog.”

The parent looked at the children and said, “You mustn’t be mean to the doggie,” and then, turning to Ros, added, “Boys will be boys, you know,” with a smile.

The werewolf took advantage of the short distraction to take hold of the squeezable tomato ketchup bottle and manoeuvred it in his jaws. Then he squeezed the bottle, which he’d directed at the two boys, and covered their designer t-shirts with tomato ketchup.

Ros returned the smile. “And doggies will be doggies,” she said.

“And spies will spy,” Harry Pearce added. He had quietly joined them. “I must ask you to accompany me, madam.”

“But what about my children?” she protested.

“I’m sure their father can take care of them.”

The father, a junior minister, had come hurrying over and looked with disbelief from his wife to his two children. He looked horrified, but no-one was sure whether it was at the arrest of his wife, or the state of his two tomato ketchup covered boys.