Who... who could have seen me?

I pondered the question as I ran down an alley and made a quick turn into another.
Dead end. I turned around and as I approached the street, the megaphone from inside a speeding police car yelled the familiar phrase "STOP! POLICE!" I was caught, or was I? The car sped past. apparently pursuing another "hooligan" in a Miura. I was lucky, but luck can only get you so far.

I quickly made my way to the abandoned warehouse across the street where I smashed open a window and dove inside. I was safe, for now at least.

My mind slowed from all the recent excitement and, when I ceased my heavy breathing, began to bring back the question. Who ratted me out? It was dark... late night, maybe 4 or 5 o clock. Perhaps someone heard the commotion and looked out of their window to check what it was. No, it was too dark. No one would have been able to see my face clearly enough. In order to identify me in that darkness, someone would have had to know me before hand... seen my face multiple times so they could easily point it out. But I don't know anyone. I have been going solo for years now without a real companion. Who would have known me?

Just then, the warehouse creaked and moaned. There was the sound of something crashing and the flutter of old documents. There was another crash and a files-full of documents dropped heavily on my head. I brought my hands to my head and cringed in pain, but soon enough, the cringe was replaced by a wide-eyed realization.

"Lousy paperboy!"