To Cut a Long Story Short

Jake felt sick as he thought of how readily he had parted with his $100, and how easily he had fallen for it.

‘They’re using tobacconists and newsagents to carry out the scam,’ continued his mother.

‘So what’s in the envelope?’

‘Now that’s where they’re really clever,’ said his mother. ‘They put in a small booklet that gives advice on how you can make $100,000. And it’s not even illegal, because the price on the cover is $100. You’ve got to hand it to them.’

I already have, Mom, Jake wanted to say, but he just slammed the phone down and stared at the envelope.

The front doorbell began to ring. Ellen and the kids must be back from the movie, and she’d probably forgotten her key again.

The bell rang a second time.

‘OK, I’m coming, I’m coming!’ shouted Jake. He seized the envelope, determined not to leave any trace of its embarrassing existence. As the bell rang a third time he ran into the kitchen, opened the incinerator and threw the envelope down the chute.

The bell continued to ring. This time the caller must have left a finger on the button.

Jake ran to the door. He pulled it open to find three massive men standing in the hallway. The one wearing a black T-shirt leapt in and put a knife to his throat, while the other two each grabbed an arm. The door slammed shut behind them.

‘Where is it?’ T-shirt shouted, holding the knife against Jake’s throat.

‘Where’s what?’ gasped Jake. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t play games with us,’ shouted the second man. ‘We want our $100,000 back.’

‘But there was no money in the envelope, only a book. I threw it down the incinerator chute. Listen, you can hear it for yourself.’

The man in the black T-shirt cocked his head, while the other two fell silent. There was a crunching sound coming from the kitchen.

‘OK, then you’ll have to go the same way,’ said the man holding the knife. He nodded, and his two accomplices picked up Jake like a sack of potatoes and carried him through to the kitchen.

Just as Jake’s head was about to disappear down the incinerator chute, the phone and the front doorbell began ringing at the same time …

OTHER BLIGHTERS’ EFFORTS

IT ALL BEGAN innocently enough, when Henry Pascoe, the First Secretary at the British High Commission on Aranga, took a call from Bill Paterson, the manager of Barclays Bank. It was late on a Friday afternoon, and Henry rather hoped that Bill was calling to suggest a round of golf on Saturday morning, or perhaps with an invitation to join him and his wife Sue for lunch on Sunday. But the moment he heard the voice on the other end of the line, he knew the call was of an official nature.

‘When you come to check the High Commission’s account on Monday, you’ll find you’ve been credited with a larger sum than usual.’

‘Any particular reason?’ responded Henry, in his most formal tone.

‘Quite simple really, old chap,’ replied the bank manager. ‘The exchange rate moved in your favour overnight. Always does when there’s a rumour of a coup,’ he added matter-of-factly. ‘Feel free to call me on Monday if you have any queries.’

Henry wondered about asking Bill if he felt like a round of golf tomorrow, but thought better of it.

It was Henry’s first experience of a rumoured coup, and the exchange rate wasn’t the only thing to have a bad weekend. On Friday night the head of state, General Olangi, appeared on television in full-dress uniform to warn the good citizens of Aranga that, due to some unrest among a small group of dissidents in the army, it had proved necessary to impose a curfew on the island which he hoped would not last for more than a few days.

On Saturday morning Henry tuned in to the BBC World Service to find out what was really going on on Aranga. The BBC’s correspondent, Roger Parnell, was always better informed than the local television and radio stations, which were simply bleating out a warning to the island’s citizens every few minutes that they should not stray onto the streets during the day, because if they did, they would be arrested. And if they were foolish enough to do so at night, they would be shot.

That put a stop to any golf on Saturday, or lunch with Bill and Sue on Sunday. Henry spent a quiet weekend reading, bringing himself up to date with unanswered letters from England, clearing the fridge of any surplus food, and finally cleaning those parts of his bachelor apartment that his daily always seemed to miss.

On Monday morning, the head of state still appeared to be safely in his palace. The BBC reported that several young officers had been arrested, and that one or two of them were rumoured to have been executed. General Olangi reappeared on television to announce that the curfew had been lifted.

When Henry arrived at his office later that day, he found that Shirley, his secretary - who had experienced several coups - had already opened his mail and left it on

his desk for him to consider. There was one pile marked ‘Urgent, Action Required’, a second, larger pile marked ‘For Your Consideration’, and a third, by far the largest, marked ‘See and Bin’.

The itinerary for the imminent visit of the Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs from the UK had been placed on top of the ‘Urgent, Action Required’ pile, although the Minister was only dropping in on St George’s, the capital of Aranga, because it was a convenient refuelling stop on his way back to London following a trip to Jakarta. Few people bothered to visit the tiny protectorate of Aranga unless they were on their way to or from somewhere else.