Mood:  lazy

Now I'm finally back in the real world, I have the chance to catch up with some of the crap you reprobates have been e-mailing me. Now believe it or not, among the Nigerians, Russians, and Penguins from Antartica who have all been trying to catch me out with their very kind offers to make me a millionaire, there is the odd little gem which makes me go into my bombproof office here in The Safe House, and dig out a file from my safe which is of course standard Mossad issue and is shaped like a big carton of Bensons. One such question came from someone asking about Jill Dando.

I remember this case perfectly. At the time I was working undercover on an Underground Railway somewhere in London. I happened to be on rest days that week, and I guess it was natural for the Law to think it was a professional job, so they did come knocking on my door...working undercover means you try and fit in with everyone else...I even stopped wearing black for a while. Anyway I refused to talk to anyone but MI 6, and I was forced to show the mysterious ID card with the Star of David on it to some wet behind the ears copper. Shit scared he was when he realised who he was talking to, but I put him at ease with my tales of drinking with The Krays and Frankie Fraser down the Blue Oyster in Ramsgate. To cut a long story short, I persuaded them to focus on the local oddball and pervert, but in the end they went after some geezer called Barry George, bet they wished they'd listened to me eh. Who did kill Jill Dando? I haven't a f*cking clue, I had to go back on nights and sort of lost track of events but it was good to see it all come back in the news recently...I haven't watched Crimewatch since though.

 Shalom