The tale of Lazy Jack Silver

Jojo came into the pub looking flustered. She saw Pog’s slender figure and elfin features in a distant corner. When Jojo arrived Pog effortlessly dispersed the crowd of admirers who were hovering hopefully around her table.
“Well”, said Jojo, “what have you got?”

Pog raised an eyebrow.

Jojo was not in the mood for enigmatic, she had had a lot of enigmatic recently and, frankly, she didn’t feel that it was all it was cracked up to be. She sighed.

Pog sensing that her elfin good looks were not going to dissipate Jojo’s ire, cut to the chase.

“Look Jojo, it’s like this, I saw LJS, unconscious, leaving the bar with two women, one of them I didn’t recognise but the other looked remarkably like Norah Splogg”.

“Norah Splogg, nobel prize winning astrophysist and best-selling author?” asked Jojo in tones of deep scepticism.

“Norah Splogg, blog assasin and agent of HJB” countered Pog.

Jojo gasped. Could it be?  Pog’s information was always good but she had never heard a whisper of this.

Pog raised her other eyebrow. It was a party trick and she liked to practise.

“Well” snapped Jojo, “what of it?”

“I’ve been doing some work for the army and I think I can get them to bring us to Heather’s Schloss” said Pog.

“What now?” asked Jojo startled.

“Yes now” said Pog impatiently “listen Jojo, don’t you realise that Heather has been wanting to get her hands on LJS for years. God knows what will happen if he stays in that Schloss. We haven’t got a moment to lose.  Our only advantage is surprise, Heather doesn’t know that we are on to her.”

Jojo’s head span. “Damn it, Pog, we don’t even know that Heather’s involved. He could be at home in Bishopstown. And the Swiss police could get very difficult if we turn up and it’s all a false alarm”.

Pog raised both her eyebrows.

Jojo ran her hands through her perfectly cut and styled hair. “Oh alright Pog, let’s go” she said crossly.

They got up and left immediately only pausing for Jojo to ring her babysitter and explain that she might be a little late.

Maureen left the room, head bowed, deep in concentration and missed the silent figure
standing at the edge of the entrance hall.  As soon as Waffle knew they were alone she turned to Heather and in her soft, Cork voice she said, “I think we may have a problem.”

“Problem,darling?  Why for” Heather sipped at her dry martini and tilted her head towards Waffle.  “You don’t mean.?”“That is exactly what I mean.” Waffle took her champagne glass in her dainty manicured
hand and sighed.  “I couldn’’t say no to him.  You understand?” She smiled ruefully.  “He knows too much.  Sometimes I feel as if he has me in his power.”  She shuddered and her red silk dress rippled across her perfect, slender body.
Whilst Heather understood Waffle’’s situation she was apprehensive at the thought that
Friar Tuck was in the Schloss.  It had been so long since she had had anything to do with that monk.  Would no one save her from this turbulent priest, she thought, wondering if she should make a note of that particular phrase, given its originality.
“We really don’’ t need Friar Tuck here, Waffle.  Is it possible that we could distract him with some sort of..”

Suddenly the lights dimmed and a screamechoed through the Schloss.  Waffle looked at Heather, her blue eyes brimming with tears.  “It is okay?” she gasped.
“Maureen understands?”

“Of course she understands.  It’’ll be fine” she said in an impatient tone.  “Frankly, I’’m
far more concerned about you bringing the priest with you.  He is not what he seems.” Heather turned around and called “Friar Tuck, I know you’’re here.  Show yourself to me.”

Slowly, the hooded figure moved towards the two women. As he came closer Heather held her hands to her face, the crimson nail varnish clashing violently with her ashen complexion.  Turning to Waffle she sobbed, “How can this be so?”

Another scream echoed through the Schloss.

Through the driving rain Heather and Maureen watched the black helicopter circle the Schloss obviously trying to pinpoint the landing area.  There were moments when Heather worried that the pilot wouldn’t manage to land given the fearsome weather conditions. Finally the pilot negotiated a landing and Heather breathed a deep sigh of relief; at last she would have LJS exactly where she needed him.
Waffle swung her long, shapely legs out of the helicopter and jumped onto the tarmac.  Waving to Heather, she turned back to the helicopter as someone helped The Princess into her waiting arms.  The Princess struggled free from her mother and walked swiftly and steadily towards the two women waiting in the shelter of the golden pergola.  Heather looked at Maureen whose complexion had turned ashen and she realised that she was remembering the blessed Reginald. In as gentle a manner as Heather could manage she touched Maureen’’s hand and told her, “it will be okay, trust me.  It was too difficult for Heather to consider Maureen’s feelings until she knew that LJS had been brought to her.  She needed to see him being taken from the helicopter and until then she would be in torment.

As the storm built in intensity so did Heather’’s nerves.  It had been so long since she had felt this level of anticipation, this level of excitement.  When she saw the extra-long stretcher with what could only be LJS strapped to it she bowed her head to hide the tears.  Not even Maureen could be allowed to see how much this meant to her.

Within a few moments they were all gathered inside the spacious entrance hall of the Schloss watching the attendants carry LJS up the baronial staircase to the East Wing.

““Fuck”.” The imperious tones of the Princess echoed around the entrance hall.

“Hello, darling” Heather knelt in front of the Princess. “Would you like a biscuit and some squash?”  She turned to Maureen, “Have we got some crayons or something for the Princess?”.

The Princess raised her eyebrows and sighed. “Do you realise I have an IQ that is beyond measurement and you’’re offering me crayons?  Settling down on the deep red Persian carpet in front of the roaring log fire, the Princess took a crayon and pondered for a moment.  It seemed to her that they would be here for some time so now was as good a time as any to write the libretto for the opera she had been planning.  This, as far as she was aware, would be the first opera in Sanskrit.  Pausing only to call for biscuits, cake, toast and grapes she worked silently.  Growing bored with the idea of the opera she decided to teach herself German.  “Fick dich” she announced.

“You’’ve done brilliantly, darling” Heather smiled across at Waffle.  Maureen frowned and said “we really need to move onto the next stage”.  Her voice shook slightly and the women knew this was because of the great responsibility that Maureen was about to take.  Now timing was crucial.

LJS squeezed through the crowded bar to the quiet of the snug where Bobble was waiting craning her swanlike neck to see where was.

“Here you go” he panted, “God it’s fierce busy out there, let me draw you a Venn diagramme to show you what I mean”.

Bobble snatched away his pen and said “That won’t be necessary LJS”. He took a sip of Beamish and blinked in surprise, it was bitter. “Something’s up” was his last conscious thought. Bobble gazed thoughtfully at the prone figure beside her. Just how had HJB managed that, she wondered. At that very moment, Norah stepped into the snug looking businesslike. “My God, it is you” gasped Bobble “are you working for…” her voice trailed away. “Yes” said Norah, “I’m working for Heather and I’ve just knocked out LJS with something nasty in his pint”. Bobble winced. “Oh it won’t do him any harm” said Norah bracingly. “But, how do you know Heather and why are you involved and..” Norah cut across Bobble’s questions, “No time for that now, we’ve got to get him to the car waiting outside”. “OK” said Bobble, “I just need to go to the bathroom. “Oh” said Norah “I wouldn’t, one of the staff here is a loo nastier, just come on”. They carried LJS outside. It was late now and he was just another punter who’d had too much to drink being lugged home by his friends. They pushed him into the waiting car and sat in beside him pink from the effort of supporting his manly frame. “Gosh” said Bobble “nice big, vroomy car, pity about the dent at the back”. The car pulled out and drove to the airport.

Back in Brussels, Waffle was on a secure line to HJB “I’ve been thinking about it, get Norah in. I have a lever, I’ve seen a man hanging about her place and then, ..”

“That won’t be necessary, darling, everything has been arranged” said Heather smoothly.

Waffle was impressed, you had to hand it to HJB, her network was extraordinary.

“And” continued HJB inperturbably “she’s got LJS, they’re on their way to the airport now.”

“Have they been seen leaving?” asked Waffle urgently.

“No, darling, relax, everything’s fine” said HJB.

Back in the Long Valley, pog reluctantly took out her mobile phone. She was wearing a green skimpy combat vest which looked amazingly attractive on her perfect figure and drew attention to her elfin, Kate Moss like face. This was her bomb defusing outfit and she’d just finished some work for the army and was having a well earned break.
“Jojo hi, it’s pog, I’ve just seen something odd.”

“Pog, hi, where are you?”

“That’s not important, oh actually, it is, I’m in the Long Valley and I’ve just seen LJS leaving the bar with two women, he was out cold”.

“Well, LJS’s drinking and other habits are hardly important to me” said Jojo coldly.

“Well, it’s not like I care either” said pog briskly “I mean our relationship is dead and buried, but… I remember he could always hold his drink, this isn’t like him.” She paused “I think he’s been abducted”.

“Don’t be ridiculous” said Jojo ” who would abduct him?”

“Heather” said pog succinctly.

“Pog, what do you know about this?” asked Jojo in alarm “Look, don’t move, I’m coming round straight away.”

“I’m going nowhere” said Pog picking up her pint and settling back in her chair. It was going to be a long evening.

After HJB had instructed her cook and housekeeper about the arrangements for her next soiree she asked Maureen, her personal assistant, to get Waffle on the secure line. “Should I peel you a grape too, your HJBness? Ha ha.” No one other than Maureen could speak to HJB in such a way but they had shared so much; the lonely years, the long nights of torment in empty blogs.

Waffle, darling, it’s H here. We may need to move into another plan fairly quickly”

“You’’re telling me, LJS is going to lose the run of himself if we’re not careful.”

“I was thinking about Norah.”

“Norah? You mean Norah the blog assassin?”

“She claims to be a reformed character these days but I think we could persuade her to pick her old habits up again. It’s merely a question of making the right offer. Heather didn’t feel that she needed to tell Waffle that she had already made the right offer…

“Right H. I’’ll give it some thought, and I’’ll be seeing you at the soiree this weekend?”

“Of course – We’’ve prepared the Jasmine Suite for you and the princess. Ciao”

Waffle sat deep in contemplation, the sunlight flashing off her high, sharp cheekbones; cheekbones sharp enough to slice venison.  How to persuade Norah?  And then she remembered the man she had seen hanging around Norah’’s place.  That may be the way –it wouldn’’t be easy but she wasn’’t a woman who was frightened of a struggle.

“What’ll you have?” asked LJS.

“Just a mineral water” said Bobble primly.

LJS glanced at the crowd around the bar and then looked again.  “Hey” he said to Bobble “isn’t that Norah Splogg behind the bar?”

“Norah Splogg, Nobel prize winning astrophysicist and best-selling author, pulling pints, I hardly think so” said Bobble sarcastically.

“No need to be sarky” said LJS “perhaps she’s doing deep cover, I heard she worked for the NHS to get material for ‘Alan and the Coconut God'”.

“Really, do you think so?” Bobble was excited despite herself, she loved Norah Splogg and it was so thrilling to think that she might be here in this very room.

Up at the bar, Norah was pulling a pint and reflecting bitterly that the lab coat look which employees in the Valley favoured was not one which was flattering even on a good hair day.  LJS sidled up.

“Hello Norah” he said “pun in the oven?”***

Norah looked at him frostily.

“Is that a pun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?” he smiled hopefully.

“Hot cross pun?” he ventured

Norah looked up from beneath her mop of perfect dark hair.  So this was LJS..  She wondered what Heather needed him for.  When Heather had called her in to help in relation to his abduction, she had been annoyed.  She had just signed up to do some interesting work at NASA and her publishers were putting her under pressure for her next book.  She didn’t have time for HJB’s intrigues.  But Heather wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer and Norah knew that she owed Heather.  Also the financial incentive Heather offered was not inconsiderable.  When Norah had been a poor grad student, she and Heather had worked together on a number of shady deals. Norah was going straight now but she wasn’t so sure about Heather.  Sure, it looked good, Heather had her private trust fund and didn’t need to do anything illegal.  But Norah suspected that HJB liked the danger and excitement.

Meanwhile, back in the snug, Bobble was thinking fast.  HJB had said that she would have help in carrying out the op; she had, however, refused to say what form that help would take.  Bobble remembered having seen a picture of HJB and Norah Splogg together in Vogue, years ago.  Could they be friends?  Could Norah Splogg possibly be Bobble’s accomplice?

****Author’s note:  puns supplied by Mr. Waffle, don’t blame me.  Norah, Mr. Waffle has asked me to assure you that this does not imply you are or ever were fat. He also suggests that I add the following: any person who alleges that he or she, his or her heirs, executors or assigns, sevants or agents have in any way been depicted in a manner which is unfair, prejudicial or otherwise, should note this EXCLUSION OF LIABILITY (not valid in Hawaii or in Vermont) and should seek legal advice before reading further. Please tick box to confirm that you have read and agreed to the terms and conditions written in invisible ink and which may be varied at any time without notice at the discretion of the author.