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One evening I was out for a drink with a friend. Someone else who was seen at the same pub was killed later that evening. But I didn't know anything about that. The pub was busy. We were meeting because I was going away. And the next day I left the country for a few months.
In the morning, the police wanted to talk to everyone who was in the pub. They turned up at my place. Now, I was quite young and still living at home. My father has the same surname. So when he answered the door they asked "Are you Mr [Surname]?" and he said "Yes." So they asked him "Were you at the such-and-such pub last night?" and he wasn't, so he said "No."
At this point they think they're on to something. Ears prick up. They tell him that they know he was there with so-and-so. My father recongises the name of my friend, realises they really want me, explains this to them, and their excitement wains. "Is your son here?" "No. He's left the country."
At this point they think they're on to something. But my father explains that I'd been planning this trip for ages, and not just since the previous night. He convinces them of this and their excitement wains. They leave their number.
Meanwhile, I'm travelling around distant parts, not knowing anything of this. When I get back a few months later, my father tells me the police want to talk to me about a murder. I think he enjoyed giving me this uncomfortable news. I call them and two detectives come round. They ask me about the details of the evening. They seem very unenthusiastic about the whole thing. I get the feeling they know they won't find out anything by talking to me. I assume that given the time that's passed, they got nowhere.
So, years pass. I was asked to give a little known fact about myself for a quiz for teenagers. They have to match the fact with the adult. I say that I was once questioned about a murder. This was a mistake. For a couple of years after that I had random kids coming up to me and asking me in a whisper "Did you *murder* someone?"