London Diary




"bad detectives"

I arrived at Brian's in a state of semi-shock (I'm sorry, I ain't such a toughie...), and I guess my pretty confused state rather spoiled the festivities planned for his birthday... But at least now I think I understand what this is all about: someone seems to be pretty keen on getting his hands on the package - no return address indicated - that more than a month ago was delivered for this Bukovski guy, who used to live in my flat before I did. Well, maybe my man even first intended to ask me for it, in a civilized way - and I guess I simply would have fetched it for him at Melissa's to hand it over, no questions asked, any odd story would have convinced me! But as I was in Bristol for about a week, he got impatient and decided to look for it himself - and flipped out when discovering that it wasn't there ... Did he take my hd because he thinks I have digitalized the lot?


Pretty incredible, huh? Don't it simply look like taken from the script of some lousy B-type detective flick? Or rather, from something in the 'I Spy'-category, KGB-CIA-Stasi and all that `pre-Wall-fall' jazz... Okay, well, at least the red Peugeot seems to be out: that indeed must have been just my usual paranoļa. But the rest -- parcel, burglary, that guy giving me the fright of a lifetime... it all, unfortunately was all but too real. (Still feel him pushing my back against the iron gate!) Brian proposed that for the time being I stay at his place. God bless you, Brian! No, of course I'm not looking forward to meeting that creep again! Should work something out... a way to get some of my stuff out of the basement without bumping into Mr. X., for example. And what the hell could be so interesting about all that paperwork in Bukovski's package?