Wing Commander Tom found it troubling that nowhere in Number Ten proved secure enough to guarantee uninterrupted interrogating. Despite commanding the elite Cambridge Intelligence Agency – who were heavily although discreetly armed – there seemed to be no order or threat that could keep the rampaging parades of various ministers from interrupting his important work. It was to his great regret that his team were not allowed to shoot Government ministers, and even greater regret that the ministers knew this only too well.
There were good reasons for Tom deciding to interrogate fearsome Cabinet Secretary Sir Edd Evans-Morley in his own office. Firstly, he knew that physical violence would be required to convince Sir Edd to comply with any requests to attend the Cabinet Office for questioning. Secondly, the chance of interruption was minimal as no-one went to Sir Edd’s office unless they absolutely had to. Although the feeling was largely unspoken, it was clear that those at Number Ten found visiting Sir Edd in his lair akin to being summoned by a particularly sadistic headmaster.
Accompanying Tom was the Prime Minister, who had seen fit to bring with her a bacon sandwich. She argued that she had missed lunch, due to her enormous sulk at being excluded from the recent press conference, and she knew for a fact that Sir Edd kept nothing in the way of biscuits or cakes in his office. She sat at Tom’s right shoulder, munching quietly while the dashing Wing Commander made his opening gambit.
“Sir Edd, what was your opinion of the late Tony Blair?” asked Tom.
“He was a vile human being and I’m pleased he got shot,” replied Sir Edd, a sinister half-smile on his lips. A bold remark to make when being questioned about a murder, certainly.
“That may be so, but it’s likely that I could ask anybody that and get a similar response,” Tom remarked. “Did you support the Prime Minister’s plans to try him for war crimes?”
“It is my job to support the Prime Minister in all her plans, Wing Commander. Not matter how ridiculous.”
“Do you really think my plans are ridiculous?” asked Lucy, eyes wide and crumbs tumbling from her chin.
“Of course not, Prime Minister,” Sir Edd replied, his voice dripping with thick insincerity. “But even if they were, I would still support them.”
“Right,” Lucy tried to decide how she felt about this. “That’s good to know.”
“What were your movements on the night of the murder?” Tom continued.
“I was over-seeing the running of the Epic State Occasion,” replied Sir Edd. “A great deal of my time was invested in maintaining diplomatic relations between ourselves and the Oxford contingency, due to the Chancellor of the Exchequer leading other Cabinet ministers in a supposed charm offensive that was simply, well, offensive.”
“You’re lying,” countered Tom.
Of course he was lying. But then lies and truth were more or less the same thing for Sir Edd. The reality of others was irrelevant in the pursuit of his own reality of choice.
“I heard you were making matters worse by slagging off their rowing team,” noted Lucy, between mouthfuls.
“They haven’t fielded a decent boat-load since 2019,” snorted Sir Edd. “And their last cox turned out to be a kind of over-sized guinea pig, do you remember?”
Lucy sat up straight and slapped her knee in delight.
“Oh yes! That was very funny, actually.”
“It is not so amusing to those of us who regard river activities with the respect and reverence they so rightly demand. Especially an event as historically and culturally important as the Boat Race.”
“Actually, I take the Boat Race incredibly seriously and I thought it was funny as well,” remarked Tom, casually. “But anyway. It was you who broke the news of Blair’s death – talk me through what happened.”
“Well, I entered the Prime Minister’s bedroom and I told her that Tony Blair had been shot,” replied Sir Edd, blankly.
“No, I mean the bit before that – when you yourself discovered he had been shot.”
“Oh. I had gone to the kitchen to complain about the last wave of offerings from the barbecue. The chicken wings were atrocious. Also the Foreign Secretary had finished off the cheese and onion crisps, but insisted there were further supplies below stairs. When I arrived, I found the far wall decorated liberally with brain matter.”
“Was there anyone else in the kitchen?” asked Tom.
“Yes – Mumsie and Steve were both there,” Sir Edd made great play of recalling the events to his mind. “Steve was stood in shock at the back door, holding his sausages, and I think Mumsie was looking around for something to clean up the mess. She had on her marigolds and appeared industrious, anyhow.”
“Do you recall seeing anyone else enter or leave the kitchen in the time before or after you discovered the scene?” Tom continued.
“Now you come to mention it – yes I do,” Sir Edd wore the expression of a snake about to strike. “That butler fellow – Snetterton – he was there as well. Forgive my inexactitude, I don’t make a habit of noticing butlers, but he was there. I am certain of it.”
Tom and Lucy exchanged glances. This could be a breakthrough. After all, isn’t it always the case that the butler did it?
Its always the butler that does it! Lol
Hope you’re well Lucy ☺
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Butlers just can’t help themselves! I am good, thanks. Hope you are well too 🙂
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I’m ok… Still about ya know ☺
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That’s good to know – it would be a very sad thing if you weren’t, my friend! x
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The same goes for you ☺
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Aw! Rest assured, I am most certainly still knocking around, don’t worry 🙂
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Oh good – life will go on then! 😉
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Just about!
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Keep smiling ☺😘
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Always 😉 x
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I fear I may have missed a few of these. Best I go and look.
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You probably haven’t missed too much. No one has taken off their trousers for awhile.
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Oh, I won’t bother then.
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😉
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No interrogation is complete without a bacon sandwich I say!
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Quite right! Notice I didn’t even offer to share it. I am so hardcore 😉
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You are!!
That is doubtless a part of the interrogation tactics…
Who could manage to be duplicitous in the face of a bacon sandwich they weren’t allowed to eat!!
Apart from possibly a vegetarian or Sir Edd…
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Indeed, like when you put the biscuits out of reach of Boris and Nigel during their interrogation – we take no prisoners!
By the way, I have started calling him ‘Sir’ Edd in real life. It really suits him 🙂
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oh yes…we are experts at this!! A small amount of withholding of luxury food items and we will be at the bottom of this in no time!!
heheh yes! I can see how it would suit him 😀
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Won’t be long now until the ‘big reveal’… and finding out who shot Tony Blair isn’t even the biggest reveal-thing!
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oooooh!!!
this is very exciting!!!
hang on…doe the big reveal have anything to do with trouser dropping? O_O
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HahahaHA – why yes it does. The dropping of several trousers, in fact.
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hahahaha… excellent!!
it sounds extremely reveal-y!
reveal-ous?
😀
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Reveal-issimo? All seem very suitable to me. All I can say is – my mum is probably going to be quite cross by the end of it all… 😉
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I like reveal-issimo!! 😀
aaah well…if it will make your mum cross it is bound to be good…and reveal-arama-y
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😀
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Never mind your mom, yout minister of family values will be cross as hell!
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Furious, in fact!! 😉
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Fucking furious, that’s for sure. Fanatically fucking furious. A fanatically fucking furious fiend-fantasy she’ll be.
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😀 My goodness! That is some crazy furiousness right there!!
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Freaky furiousness, please, I suggest sticking to the alliteration.
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My apologies. It is true that alliteration is all around these parts 😉
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Apology accepted. 😛
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Very nice-now I’m off to the gym right after I pack a bacon sandwich. Something to keep my hands busy whilst on the treadmill. Why had I never thought of that?
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Bacon sandwiches are key to a healthy diet, I feel. It will give you the strength to train even harder!
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What I really want to know Prime Minister Lucy is …. who prepared your bacon sandwich ?
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Good question, Chris. Probably Mumsie. She is usually head of sandwiches. I’m not fussy where my sandwiches come from, just so long as there isn’t too much fluff on them (a bit is okay)
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‘Fluff on my sandwich’ sounds like a dreadful medical condition or the name of one of those special beers.
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Could also be a chat-up line – ‘hello there, can I fluff on your sandwich?’
Who said romance is dead!
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That dastardly sir edd! He needs bringing down a peg or two, and then getting strung back up again on one of the higher pegs, and then having the process repeated if he isn’t learning his lesson sufficiently.
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Yes – that does sound like the sort of thing he needs. I wonder where all these pegs are. Once I find them, I’ll get right on it. (After my afternoon of acid and Putin, obviously)
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Papa Lazarou’s got them all…and let nothing stand in the way of an acid fueled session with the great putmyster!
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I might have to get behind Trump in the queue, I understand he is up first. Ugh. The idea of getting Trump’s sloppy seconds is not a happy one…
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I imagine trump to be quick, but messy…I envy you no longer.
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I think I’ll give up the whole thing as a bad idea, you know.
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It’s certainly lost a bulk of its attraction…maybe we could have Putin knock trump unconscious with his massive Russian member, and while he waits for Donald to come round he could have some fun with you?!
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Oh now that sounds like a great plan! I think Putin will prefer that, too.
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I think so; as much as he enjoys buggering the West, I reckon he would draw the line at heads of state.
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Unlike Boris. As far as he’s concerned, any hole’s a goal. (This is disgraceful – mum, don’t read any conversations between Mr Babbage and myself. I don’t want to have to explain them to you)
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You know where you are with Boris…at risk. (Mrs Brazier I apologise profusely for engaging your daughter in this disgrace; I’d leave this blog well alone if I were you).
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Those butlers are always shady types in my opinion 🙂
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I have to agree with you, dear Peter. I still want one, though…
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Is it any wonder butler’s grow bitter?
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True. If I had a butler I would treat them very nicely and never accuse them of murder…
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Never! You might need them later.
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Absolutely. Butlers should be cherished!
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For sure!
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Aha! I think the villain must be Sir Edd, because wasn’t Snetterton in the bedroom with the PM at the time? Along with several other men, of course! But with his trousers on… phew!
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Indeed he was – although when asked by Sir Edd to tell everyone that the peace treaty wasn’t fully completed under ‘Oxford Law’, Snetterton said that he had slipped out (oo-er!) before the crucial moment, therefore leaving him without an alibi. But did he just say that to avoid being dragged into the row about the peace treaty being legal? I bet Agatha Christie never had to worry about remembering which of her suspects had trousers on… 😉
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Aha! See, I should pay more attention! Haha! This is very true – and I doubt if Poirot EVER took his trousers off!
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I suppose only Miss Lemon would know for sure! 😉
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“It was to his great regret that his team were not allowed to shoot Government ministers, and even greater regret that the ministers knew this only too well.”
When my Dad was Congressional Liaison, he made similar comments about Congress! He frequently said that, upon his death, he wanted to be cremated so his ashes could be put in the AC and blown into every office – to return his consternation to each and every one of them.
Even though I am [almost] certain that he was kidding, I always wish I’d had the guts to actually do it — but I doubt I’d do well in prison and, the way my luck runs, I’d most certainly have gotten caught!
xx,
mgh
(Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMore dot com)
ADD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder
“It takes a village to transform a world!”
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It is very frustrating – although probably for the best – that we don’t get to take our revenges as and when we see fit! My mum says that when she dies she is going to come back and haunt me. We have an agreement that she will stay out of the bathroom, however 😉 I should imagine there are a lot of people plotting all sorts of revenge in Congress right now…
xx
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One can only hope!
xx,
mgh
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“Of course he was lying. But then lies and truth were more or less the same thing for Sir Edd. The reality of others was irrelevant in the pursuit of his own reality of choice.”
Is Sir Edd surreptitiously advising Agent Orange across the pond? There are an awful lot of “alternative facts” chasing about over here.
xxm
mgh
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I think it has always been the way with politics, but in our information-rich age it is only now that it is becoming so blindingly obvious. I reckon Sir Edd could find himself a job in the Trump administration without too much trouble at all!
xx
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I dunno, he might already have one!
xx,
mgh
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Good point!
xx
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Hmm questions answered have only raised further questions.
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So very typical of Sir Edd!
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