I dreamt that a high-ranking police officer from Pazin or Pula visited me in Motovun. Although his hair was pitch-black and his complexion on the swarthy side, he reminded me a bit of Charles Darwin. He had a high forehead accentuated by a receding hairline and by hair neatly combed back. He had high cheekbones and a broad chin pointed out. He was impeccably shaven. Dressed in a well-pressed white shirt with short sleeves and black pants, he had a black tie and black epaulettes with several silver stripes. All in all, he looked prim, just as a high-ranking police officer should look. But he was also mute. He did not say a single word during his visit. His legs neatly crossed, he just sat there and stared in front of him. I wondered whether he came in connection with my letter to the Croatian president, in which I asked for an investigation of the investor in golf development under the Motovun hill, or in connection with my letter to the Motovun municipal council, in which I asked for an investigation of dealings with land in the planning process leading up to golf and polo development. I also wondered whether he came because of something I had done or did not do myself. But the police officer would not say a single word. To top it all, the dream simply faded away without resolution. Still, it came back to me in its perplexing clarity as soon as I woke up this morning.