Missing inaction.

Sad but true, not much happens in the Town of Lincoln, MA and when it did I was there, or rather I wasn't.
This conservation minded town has only one small shopping mall. Not a strip mind, but an elegant design, with small cafe, mini-market, ladies fitness centre, hardware store, gift shop, art gallery, travel agent and a large chain bank. Let's call them Bank of Albania - (but remember where we really are).
I pop into the food store and then sit outside, enjoying the sun after 8 days of rain. I am reading a book, occasionally taking notes of passing conversation in my new journalist notebook. Nothing special - no "yeah, she never got up afterwards" or "he was down there doing his business all night" just simple things like "did ya pick up the invoice?" and "no, after you've eaten."
Police sirens wail, but they've been pretty active today, stopping speeding cars on the 20 mph school stretch and so I continue reading, eventually getting in the car to drive home. That's when I first see the scene of crime tape. Streams of it, cordoning off the bank, cafe and travel agent, bold and bright, tied like a yellow ribbon round the old... Well you get the picture. Five police cars, from Concord, Lexington, and Lincoln are stopped at 'screech to a halt' angles. Cops with notebooks talk to men and women in business suits. A reporter and photographer hover, aiming telephoto lenses beyond the perimeter. Traffic crawls by slowed by the novelty of it all.
No I don't know what happened. I slink away, annoyed with myself for missing the action because of a book. A book with the title - 'Solving Real Life Mysteries'. I'll let you know what "went down" when I find out.