If You Ever Plan To Motor West

Here is Part 66 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”. 

I have mentioned this before, but from here on in reading the recap then jumping into the middle of the story will rather ruin it. The recap will now start to include some major spoilers on the plot which, up until now have just been hints and clues.

Also, I have to apologise in advance that the updates to the story will be limited to weekends for a while. I have just started a new job in London which looks like being long hours with the added inconvenience of the commute, so it is unlikely that I will be able to give you any updates during the week.

In my search for the oddest of news, I read that article and found myself frustrated. You would have thought that the journalist could have told us if the gambler behaved like this because he was winning!  

Another easy quiz question, so it is more about guessing the artist rather than the song as some may be surprised to find the answer is not what they expected.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.   

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

The wine waiter poured the wine into Jones’s glass. As he did so, Jones leant forward, his eyes transfixed. When the glass was a third full, the waiter filled the professor’s glass as Jones’s hand hovered near his own glass.

With both glasses charged, Jones carefully picked up his glass by the stem and swirled the hay coloured liquid before sniffing it extravagantly and letting out a long sigh. He brought the glass to his lips and tasted the wine noisily, moving it around his mouth his eyes closed before he swallowed and he let out a low moan.

“You approve?” The professor watched Jones intently.

“It is everything I expected it to be and more.” Jones grinned. “I’m afraid that a policeman’s wage doesn’t compare to a University Professor’s.”

“For the moment...” Professor Ibsen gave a weak laugh. “I am most fortunate to be blessed with a large expense account which isn’t subject to much scrutiny.”

“Back to the matter in hand!” Jones replaced his glass on the table reluctantly. “When did you last see Sergei Plutov?”

“About three, four months ago. A few days before the fire.”

“Fire?” Jones’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes, there was a fire in Sergei’s lab, but I am getting ahead of myself.” The professor waved his hand gently.

Sergei had gone to work for Cauldron’s electronics firm at their main R&D centre in West London. He had been attached to the development of new neural interfaces for computer games consoles. For over a year everything seemed to be going really well. His research was well resourced and he felt he was making good progress. Indeed, Sergei had let slip that he had felt he was on the verge of a huge breakthrough.

The story was interrupted by the arrival of the main courses. The professor paused in his tale as the pair tasted their meals and discussed them before continuing.

The next time that Sergei had visited the professor, he was upset. He and all his equipment had been moved out of the main R&D building to a small anonymous unit South of the river. Sergei had met with Sir Terence Cauldron who didn’t seem to understand the results and progress. As a result, Sergei was convinced that his entire project was going to be cancelled just as he was achieving promising results.

A few days after that, there was a fire at his new lab. All his equipment computers and papers had been totally destroyed. At the time there were whispers that it was an insurance job, a way for Sir Terence to recoup some of the money spent on Sergei’s research, but nothing was ever proven.

The professor had tried to contact Sergei, but without success. Someone told him that Sergei had returned to Russia, but the professor knew that wasn’t true because he had seen Sergei’s name amongst competitors in various triathlons in the UK.

“I was devastated, Inspector. Truly devastated.” The professor shook his head slowly. “I tried again and again to contact him to tell him that his position at UCL was always open to his return, but he never answered my calls, emails or letters. In the end, I just gave up.”

“There was no contact at all?” Jones pressed.

“Absolutely none.” The professor shook his head again and took a large draught from his wine. “In hindsight, I should have tried harder. Maybe, if I had, poor Sergei would be alive today.”

“You can’t blame yourself.” Jones stated as he put down his knife and fork, moved his hands to his lap and clenched his fists under the table.

“I know.” The professor nodded and took a mouthful of his risotto. “It is kind of you to say that, but it doesn’t really make me feel any better.”

“It was his choice, but, no matter what, you always feel you could have done something more.” Jones nodded with total empathy.

 

Talk to Me Now I'm Older

This is part 51 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”.  As we have now moved into the second half-century of instalments, I thought it best to re-vamp the ‘Story so Far’ section to see if I could make it easier to understand. Not that I would encourage people to stake short cuts, I would still prefer people start from Part One, but I thought a better recap would help the occasional readers.

So, the recap is now updated and any thoughts or observations you may have about it would be most appreciated.

Finding quiz questions related to the part number is getting quite hard, still I managed one for today and here is the answer.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.   

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

After a fitful sleep, Jones awoke to find that Pippa was already up. He turned to check the alarm clock. It was not yet six am. The sound of the shower running let him know where Pippa was. Jones lifted himself up to a sitting position.

He had a dull headache, his neck was stiff and he still felt tired. He rolled his head a few times, wincing at the sharp jolt of pain as the stiff muscle objected to exercise. Jones winced as he stretched his legs and arms.

Pippa was only wearing a towel when she entered the bedroom. Jones stopped stretching and watched her as she slowly came across to the bed, crawled up to him on all fours and kissed him slowly.

“Morning sleepy head.” Pippa purred.

“Morning.” Jones reached out and pulled Pippa in for a second kiss. “That towel really suits you.”

Pippa laughed. “Well don’t get any ideas, lover. I have to get into work early. Do you feel better after a night’s sleep?”

“I’m not sure those pills you gave me were organic.” Jones grumbled and flexed his complaining muscles again. “I feel rather stiff.”

“Stiff, eh?” Pippa raised her eyebrows and pulled off the towel. “I think I have just the cure for that.”

The cure delayed Pippa in her attempt to get to her office early. The idea that they save time by showering together afterwards, delayed her further.

Eventually, they left the house together, sharing a long, lingering kiss on the doorstep before jumping into their cars and heading to work.

Once in the Datsun and heading North towards the river, Jones attempted a whistled tune. It sounded like the a gale attacking a loose window pane.

“Preep-poo-proop?” The Datsun cut in.

“Yes, OK, but she instigated it.” Jones gripped the steering wheel a little harder and drove a little faster.

“Proop”

“I know, I have to tell her, but what can I say?” Jones accelerated as hard as the Datsun would allow overtaking a stationery llama cart, and causing a group of youths in boaters to scurry to the safety of the pavement.

“Pree Proop?”

Jones scowled and slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

“Yeah, and that will convince her I’m mad. She’ll throw me out on my ear in a flash.” Jones paused as he negotiated a roundabout thronging with people purchasing breakfast at the sausage stand at its centre. “Sorry, love. I know you think we’re married, but I don’t ever remember courting you and marrying you. This ring appeared on my finger on Monday and when I got home, my house had changed from a two up two down semi into an art deco mansion. So rather than finding out what was going on, I thought I might as well enjoy a husband’s perks and...”

“Poop Poo-Preep?” The Datsun queried.

“He’s not a real priest, besides I’m not religious.” Jones glared at the business card poking out of the dashboard. “What good will he do?”

“Proo-proop peep preep-poop” The Datsun responded.

Jones swore under his breath and viscously poked the power button on the radio. The car filled with the voices of the breakfast show presenters previewing the Light Entertainment Championships. Having seen his stations entry, Jones couldn’t help feeling that the event was being hyped in such a way as to set a ridiculous level of expectation.

His finger hovered above the power off button, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn it off. The presenters were gushing enthusiasm over the news that there were going to be large TV screens in parks across the country screening the event live.

Jones wanted to swear under his breath again, but with his jaw dropped so far, he had to content himself with shaking his head in disbelief.

 

Well, My Dandruff Is Loose.

This is part 50 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”. Yes, you heard correctly, this is part 50 of my serial. I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t sure if this would make it to the half century. It has got here though and there is certainly more to come.

If you are one of the stoical yeomen who has stuck with this from Part One, you will be amazed to learn that you have trudged your way through over 37 000 words! Hopefully, you have enjoyed your little foray into my synaptic meanderings and are able to follow what passes for a plot.

For the purposes of my own sanity, I would like to point out that there are some themes I need to develop and rework in what you have read so far. There are some serious points buried amongst the madness and these are tinged with satire in a couple of cases as well!

So, with my self-back slapping out of the way, I should see if I can find a quiz question related to ‘50’. This one is so easy you shouldn’t need the answer.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.   

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

Jones and Pippa, sat together on the sofa and thumbed through the files together until Jones suddenly closed the file and stared blankly at the far wall.

“Pippa, why don’t I remember all of this?” Jones asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” Pippa straightened up and gave a shrug. “I should remember too, but it is all rather patchy.”

“This case was two years of my professional life, the biggest case I ever worked on.” Jones continued to stare at the wall.

“Plus it was when we first met.” Pippa stroked his arm. “And my big break.”

There was a long silence.

“I’m not mad, you know that, don’t you?” Jones voice was a mere whisper.

“Of course not!” Pippa gave a laugh and gave him a hug.

Jones sat stiffly as Pippa hugged him for several minutes, before she kissed him lightly on the cheek and drew back.

“Do you want to talk about it, Glynn?” she asked softly.

Jones expelled a long breath noisily and then rubbed his face with both hands before biting his lip and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s very difficult. There are things...”The words trailed away as Jones turned to face Pippa.

He looked at her twinkling eyes and her concerned smile.

“It’s OK, Glynn. There is no need to hold things back. It will help us both if you talk it through.”

Jones couldn’t look at Pippa any longer and turned away.

“Glynn?” Pippa moved forward so she was in Jones’s vision.

Jones sat stiffly shaking his head, eyes closed and biting his lip. A tear trickled down his cheek. Pippa leaned in and held him close. Jones could feel her warm soft body pressing against him, feel her breath on his neck and smell her musky perfume. Despite everything, his body began to react.

“I can’t. Not tonight...” Jones let the words trail away. “It’s been a difficult day and I feel so tired.”

Jones extricated himself from the embrace and stood up. Bending at the waist he leaned down and kissed Pippa on the nose.

“Is there another woman?” Pippa pulled back and glared at Jones.

“What?” Jones’s mouth opened wide and he froze. “No! No, it’s not that. It’s just... It’s just that there are so many things that I can’t explain. The disappearance of McRamie, this moustache, my clothes, the sudden hero worship of Horace Adkins, the food, the priest and ......”

Pippa tilted her head to one side and said nothing. The silence lingered between them.

“I can’t explain it. Not tonight, I’m just too tired and I think I love you too much...” The shock of his words caused  Jones to drop to his knees at Pippa’s feet and clutch both her hands in his own. “Perhaps when I can explain one thing, anything, then maybe I could.”

Pippa leaned down and kissed Jones on the forehead. “Perhaps you should just get some rest, Glynn. You go up and I’ll be up in a bit.”

Jones lifted himself off his knees and kissed Pippa lightly on the lips. “I’m sorry...”

“Shhh.” Pippa cut him off by placing a finger on his lips. “You’ve just had a hard day. After a good night’s sleep you’ll feel better. I’ll be up in a bit, I just need to sort out a few things for work tomorrow.”

An hour later, when Pippa came up, Jones was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. He didn’t move when Pippa came into the bedroom. He didn’t react when Pippa came out of the bathroom in a pink satin robe.

Pippa slipped into the bed and snuggled up to Jones. Instinctively he placed his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Pippa responded by raining light kisses on his neck as she stroked his bare chest.  

“I went to see Rosa today.” Jones stated flatly.

“How is she?” Pippa stopped stroking his chest and lifted herself up onto an elbow so she could see Jones’s face.

“Angry.” Jones turned his head to face Pippa.

After Jones had related the events at the restaurant, Pippa turned away and reached into her nightstand.

“Here, take these.” Pippa held out her hand containing two pills. “They’ll help you sleep tonight and then in the morning, you will ring Rosa and apologise.”

Jones looked at the pills and then Pippa.

“It’s OK.” Pippa gave a small laugh. “They’re organic. Just take them and get some sleep. Everything will look much better in the morning. Promise.”

Jones nodded and took the pills.

 

She Dug Down When They Took the Town

I hate the fact that I suffer from hay fever. The long sneezing fits, the runny nose, the itchy eyes all combine to make me a very grumpy old Hector.

This morning, the hay fever was so bad that I decided to take the last pill in the packet of the hay fever remedy.

Seeing the world through streaming eyes, I struggled to the medicine cabinet and withdrew the little blue box before pausing for a sneezing fit. I got myself a glass of water and paused to blow my nose.

Then, withdrawing the last little white pill from the box, I placed it on my tongue.

Another sneezing fit hit. The little white pill was projected out of my mouth, bounced off the kitchen window and vanished. Finding the thing through streaming eyes was a real pain, but eventually I did.

Such was the ferocity of this particular hay fever attack, I still took it. I hope it works!

Anyway, here is part 46 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”.

There is another quiz question associated with the part number. I’d never heard of the artists or the song, but trust me, it is worth listening to the answer.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.    

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

Rosa was setting a large table when Jones entered; she carried a tray of cutlery on her lap as she wheeled herself around the table. It was only when she turned at the top of the table that she noticed Jones.

“Hello, Guv!” Rosa gave a smile that made her eyes glisten, even in the gloomy back room. “I’m glad that you came. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m fine” Jones walked over to Rosa, bent at the knees and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “More importantly, mind, how are you?”

“All things considered, not so bad.” Rosa gave a weak smile and a shrug.

Taking a handful of cutlery from the tray on Rosa’s lap, Jones started to help lay out the table. The two of them lapsed into gossip about the police and reminisces. Occasionally, Rosa shot Jones a quizzical glance, which, if Jones noticed, he chose to ignore.

With the table laid, Rosa spun her chair round to face Jones.

“So, why are you here?” Rosa glared at Jones.

“I was just passing and I thought I’d pop in and say hello.” Jones moved round the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“So just a social call?” Rosa sneered and crossed her arms. “Not here on business?”

Jones nodded.

“If you’re still on that ludicrous guilt trip of yours, well, forget it, I can’t remember anything more than I’ve already told you hundreds of times. The truth is, I don’t want to remember. Face reality, guv. Some things are best left alone.”

“That’s not why... I was just passing...” The words trailed away from Jones as he faced Rosa’s anger.

Rosa gave a snort. “Sure you were. You’ve come over here to give your sympathy to the cripple and try and do something about that misplaced guilt of yours.”

“Cripple? I’ve never considered you...”

“Why not? Everyone else does!” Rosa cut him off. “It’s got to the point where I can’t go out in this bloody chair without some gang of thugs taunting me and tipping me out of it into the gutter. At first, that was why I thought you came, but no, you are still hung up on the past.”

“Tipped you out of your chair?” Jones stood up. “What morons would do something like that?”

Rosa gave a sarcastic laugh and shook her head. “You didn’t even know did you? So much for looking after your own.”

“I didn’t know. When did this happen?”

Rosa shook her lip and curled her lip. “Don’t patronise me! You better go. You’ve obviously got more important things in your life than to worry about me.”

“I want to help.” Jones bent down and put an arm around Rosa’s shoulder.

“Just go!” Rosa shrugged the arm of vigorously. “I don’t want your pity!”

Jones stood there and looked at Rosa. She shuddered with rage. Her face was flushed and there was a sheen on her brow. Her dark brown eyes flashed.

Jones turned and left.

As he passed through the restaurant, he heard a man’s voice calling out his name. He didn’t break stride and kept his eyes fixed on the door. Once into the street, he headed back towards his Datsun.

“Inspector!” the sound of a breathless shout rose above the sound of running footfalls.

Jones turned and found himself facing the priest.

“I thought perhaps you may have mislaid the original.” The priest smiled and handed Jones his card. “Whenever you want to talk, please get in touch. Any time.”

Jones stared at the priest with open eyes and mouth. The priest gave another smile before returning to the restaurant.