Hesbit Hortesque was listed as “missing”.
Just disappeared, so strange, after kissing,
The delectable Miss Tiffany Starlight,
After their Opera date, the previous night.
Detective Inspector Clothears, from the Yard,
Was brought in to investigate, thorough and hard.
He’d brought in a constable, with a sniffer dog,
They’d provide a scent, to guide the dog through the fog.
The only piece of apparel that they could find,
Was a pair of soiled undershorts, of an average kind.
The constable gave the undershorts to the dog to sniff,
To get the scent for tracking, to be off in a jiff.
The canine quickly turned up his elegant nose,
When that garment was brought up too close!
The dog pulled back, most hard on his lead,
And then was off, yelping, at a considerable speed.
His nose was puckered up, like an over-ripe quince,
It appeared his outraged olfactory sense did not convince,
And so he had, the next step, put into motion,
Running for cover, forgetting his owner devotion.

So, now they were right back to Square One!
A missing person! To go missing, what had he done!
“I think he must have had a private life.”
So said the Inspector, not knowing of any wife.
“If we can trace Miss Tiffany Starlight,”
“We might well deduce his whereabouts all right!”
Miss Starlight worked in hospitality.
She was out most nights, quite fancy-free.
But not “free” in the true sense of the word.
As an Escort, her price was somewhat absurd.
The Inspector declared “We don’t want any cover up to be there,”
“But you must keep your clothes on, and not be bare.”
“That will cost you extra,” Tiffany rejoined,
She was used to strange requests, as they were purloined.

“Another dead end!” Exclaimed Inspector Clothears,
“Another dry gulch, I sure had my fears.”
And then a breakthrough, an open and shut case,
“I was just doing my job,” he said to his base.
“Now, as far as this missing Hortesque person,”
“He’s only missing because of his perversion.”
“Wandering around the streets all night,”
“He obviously came to grief, causing his plight.”
And there they found the ill mannered brute,
Snoring away in a house of ill repute.
“Get out of bed you devious toad!”
“We’ve had half the constabulary out on the road,”
“While you’ve been snoring here in a drunken torpor,”
“You’ve turned the police force into a collective gawper.”

And so, they marched him off, to be charged with a crime,
Namely, the inexcusable behaviour of wasting police time!