How I Broke My Leg

Hi, I'm sitting under my bed right now. It's a long story, but basically I committed a tiny murder and now some people who have nothing better to do are persecuting me. I mean, I'm a tax-payer. I give money to charity. I'm kind and courteous to everyone I meet. I even drowned a terminally ill kitten once. Still, that's society for you. I blame the government, the government's to blame. Unless they're not, in which case it's the Communists.

So I slit the throat of this old woman who squinted at me funny when I went out for a stroll in my wizard costume, and now I'm on the run from the cops. While I realise that under my own bed might not seem an ideal hiding place for a wanted fugitive, I figure that's the genius of it. What kind of twat would ever pick there? The answer: this kind of twat.

I can hear sirens now in the distance. They seem to be coming closer. This is a little worrying. Oh my God, they're only a few streets away by the sound of it. Surely they couldn't have found me out? No, they must just be on their way somewhere , off to deal with real criminals – loiterers, parking fine evaders and people who insist on feeding the pigeons even when told not to. I'll just stay here and lie low and they'll go away.

Well, the sirens have stopped...right outside my house. I think it's time for me to flee out the window. I reckon I can make it across the rooftops. I'll just keep leaping from building to building until I reach Peru. Must get out from under this bed. Oh God, I'm stuck! Surely I can work myself free? They're knocking on the door downstairs. Not much time left. Yes, I'm free!

Where are my shoes? Oh there they are by the bin. I better empty the bin. They collect the rubbish tomorrow. Don't be stupid, this is no time to be worrying about refuse collection! They're knocking on the door again. Time to escape. Here's the window. The latch is so stiff. It won't move! Come on, please move. Please move, please move, please move! I think that tremendous smashing sound downstairs was them kicking the front door down.

Yes, I've got the window open. Footsteps running up the stairs. Quickly! Quickly! Here I come, into the chill night air. Must close the window so it's not too obvious how I fled. Now go, go, go! Away across the rooftops I'm leaping. If only someone was here filming me. But then it might be used against me in court. Run, run! Not much time!

Now, which direction is Peru in?