Never fear, Commissioner, I've placed a small tracking device on the underside of his car. Ha ha! He's not going anywhere.
What's that? What if he decides to walk? I've prepared for that, too. You see, I've placed a small tracking device on the underside of his right shoe. It'll track his every last motion as long as he's wearing shoes. And what if he goes bowling or decides to hop everywhere on his right foot? Well, I doubt he'd do that, as he is left footed, and finds bowling tiresome.
But just to be sure, I've placed a small tracking device on the underside of his parasol. It's sunny out. He'd be crazy to go out without a parasol. Also, it's sort of his thing.
And of course, if a plane crashes into his building, somehow keeps going, and manages to snag his suspenders on its landing gear, thus whisking him away to parts unknown, he'll probably have enough time to grab his right shoe, but if not, I've taken precautions. I spend most of my day phoning the local airport and asking them if they've had any planes go suddenly off course. Then I call them back a few minutes later and ask, "How about now? How about now?"
By the way, Commissioner, some of the air traffic controllers seem to have the wrong idea.
If all else fails, I have one last resort. I've spent the last year getting very close to our felonious friend, under false pretenses. In fact, we're dating. I started out very "chill" and "down with whatever," but over time I became very clingy and now he can't go anywhere without telling me where he's going and who he's seeing. I repeatedly send him text messages asking him when he'll be home. He spends a full three hours each day reassuring me that nothing's going on, and another three running about on various errands. For example, I'll ask him to get me some chips, and then I will text him with something like, "Taking long time with chips. Seeing someone else? Not mad, just want to know. Love you." That sort of thing.
Don't worry, he won't make a move. And if he does make a move, I'll know. And I'll crush his tender heart when he comes home afterwards. He'll be sorry to see me go. I'm the best thing that ever happened to that big lunk.