Another bit!

Wednesday September 8th 2004

Time to update you all once more with the details of 'The Case of the Filthy Blackmailer'.

After my meeting with the mysterious Mr Loomis - his voice sounds strangely familiar, but I just can't place it yet - I hotfooted it back home to examine the blackmail notes more carefully.

I firstly dusted them for fingerprints, but it appears the only ones there belonged to myself and Mr Loomis (I'd managed to get his prints earlier, as he'd fingered my leather trenchcoat in a most unseemly fashion) which wasn't particularly helpful.

The actual text of the notes was fairly unremarkable. They were printed with an HP Laserjet 5000 series printer, using paper that could be purchased almost anywhere. The first one, dated September 1 2004, read as follows:

I know your secret. I saw what you did, last summer, in the conservatory, with the lead piping. And I don’t think the police would be too happy about it. But my silence is yours, for a price. I will contact you again soon with my fineanshal fienanshyal monetary demands.

The second note (dated September 1 2004) was slightly more sinister:

Do not cross me. I know you went to the police. I also know that they can do nothing yet, as you cannot reveal your foul crime. And, let’s be honest, the News of the World are just gagging for a story like this. But I will keep your secret, providing you pay me what I want. Put £50,000 into a briefcase and leave it in locker 415 at the bus station in three days time. I’ll be watching you.

Pretty serious stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. But I had to press on with the investigations.

Next to discover the source of the odour that permeated the notes. Mixed in with the exhaust fumes, pickled onion and eau de cologne, was another, much subtler scent. I managed to isolate it using my CSI™ Spectographic Analyser with in-built Smell-O-Matic. This told me that the scent in question belonged to a very rare flower, found only in the lower foothills of the Andes, the Mixamatosis Deadlyitus or, to give it the more common name, the Evil Bunnyfoot. It's a carnivorous plant, usually snaring small mammals, which it attracts by the cunning ploy of emitting high-pitched squeaks in code. What's even more interesting is that if you manage to extract the sap (without the loss of any vital organs or limbs), it can be made into a high-grade narcotic and all-purpose adhesive - a bit like Pritt, only more addictive.

I was sure of only two things, that the blackmailer obviously had horticultural knowledge, and that he couldn't spell 'financial'. None of which was much help.

After all that, I had another phonecall from Mr Loomis, who sounded very agitated. He said he’d had a call from the blackmailer, demanding that the blackmail money be paid, and that he stop cavorting with cheap hussies in the Safeway car park. He’d told him that he couldn’t get the money in time, and the blackmailer (who’d disguised his voice with one of those cheap microphone thingies from Woolworths) agreed to let him have two more days.

I was really livid about the cheap hussy remark (that trenchcoat cost me a fortune), but this was no time to get emotional. No, it was time to settle down with a cup of tea to watch The Vicar of Dibley on UK Gold and ponder my next move.

More news as it happens, folks.