Legos and PoPo

I was a small boy, long dark blonde hair, who was very smart. Lanky, wearing long, no-brand polo shirts and dark khaki shorts with low sneakers. The police were on my trail because I think I'd done something bad and they were close to figuring it out. They needed only one piece of the puzzle - they followed me very closely, because I needed Lego pieces to complete some kind of equation, some kind of rightness. They didn't catch me though they did tail me - because they thought I went to the displays for 20 bucks to call my girlfriend. I also painted and what I wanted to do was bring about my paintings, paintings didn't all totally make sense, girl letting go a red balloon, like Bansky's. One was a nuclear bomb going off though.

Then I switched to the POV of the detectives at the scene of a railroad crossing and some sort of small riot. The dispacter was on the verge of telling us what was going on, asking, "do you want me to inform you about the situation?" I was a middle-aged female detective and I said "yes" and she was going to inform me when I woke up. Damn.