Skip to main content

Tea with Mussolini

So let me see if I have the story right? Allegedly, a politician’s 'other half', just happens to be the investment lawyer for the very dodgy owner of a large Italian restaurant, AKA, ‘Mussolini’, being investigated by his friendly local public prosecutor for bribery, corruption and bent spaghetti.

Mussolini, out of gratitude for his lawyer’s excellent services, gives him a large brown envelope with £340,000 of 'readies' in it, as one does. That’s a bit of a problem over here these days, as one women discovered last week when she tried to pay £5,000 in cash into the Maidstone branch of the Halifax and was promptly arrested. So in order to smooth the investment and avoid all those troublesome money-laundering forms we have to fill in since 911, the lawyer, let’s call him “Kev”, arranges a mortgage on the home he shares with his partner, “Bev” for the coincidental amount of £340,000, allegedly.

Having signed the loan agreement with their Building Society, Kev and Bev are given a cheque which they reportedly pay into an offshore hedge fund, you know, the kind of fund that the Inland Revenue are really very interested in these days.

All of a sudden, Kev and Bev remember that they have that £340,000 that their old friend Mussolini gave them, gathering dust and interest in a second offshore fund. Well blow me, they decide that they don’t need that loan after all and after a couple of weeks, pay the full £340,000 back to the Building Society.

Mussolini is happy, Kev and Bev are both delighted with the clever wheeze and Bev’s boss, Tony doesn’t know about their good fortune until one day it makes the front page of his favourite ‘Beano’ magazine.

So what does Tony another good friend of Mussolini do? Hang Kev and Bev out to dry? Insist that Bev’s actions were entirely innocent and proper or simply give up and hand the office keys to his neighbour Gordon, who would really like to have that 40% of the £340,000 that Kev and Bev may have forgotten to mention at the Christmas party?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Matter of Drones - Simon Moores for The Guardian

I have a drone on my airfield” – a statement that welcomes passengers to the latest dimension in air-travel disruption. Words of despair from the chief operating officer of Gatwick airport in the busiest travel week of the year. Elsewhere, many thousands of stranded and inconvenienced passengers turned in frustration to social media in an expression of crowd-sourced outrage.

How could this happen? Why is it still happening over 12 hours after Gatwick’s runways were closed to aircraft, why is an intruder drone – or even two of them – suspended in the bright blue sky above the airport, apparently visible to security staff and police who remain quite unable to locate its source of radio control?

Meanwhile, the UK Civil Aviation Authority, overtaken by both the technology and events, is reduced to sending out desperate tweets warning that an airport incursion is a criminal offence and that drone users should follow their new code of conduct. Yet this is not an unforeseen event. It was i…
A Christmas Tale

It’s pitch blackness in places along the sea wall this evening and I'm momentarily startled by a small dog with orange flashing yuletide antlers along the way. I’m the only person crazy enough to be running and I know the route well enough to negotiate it in the dark, part of my Christmas exercise regime and a good way of relieving stress.

Why stress you might ask. After all, it is Christmas Day.

True but I’ve just spent over two hours assembling the giant Playmobil ‘Pony Farm’ set when most other fathers should be asleep in front of the television.



I was warned that the Playmobil ‘Pirate Ship’ had driven some fathers to drink or suicide and now I understand why. If your eyesight isn’t perfect or if you’ve had a few drinks with your Christmas lunch then it’s a challenge best left until Boxing day but not an option if you happen to have a nine year old daughter who wants it ready to take horses by tea time.

Perhaps I should stick to technology but then, the instruc…

An Ockham of Gatwick

The 13th century theologian and philosopher, William of Ockham, who once lived in his small Surrey village, not so very far from what is today, the wide concrete expanse of Gatwick airport is a frequently referenced source of intellectual reason. His contribution to modern culture was Ockham’s Razor, which cautions us when problem solving, that “The explanation requiring the fewest assumptions is most likely to be correct;” sound advice which constantly proves to be true.

A week further-on since Britain’s second busiest airport was bought to a complete standstill by two or perhaps two hundred different drone sightings, it is perhaps time to revisit William of Ockham’s maxim, rather than be led astray by an increasingly bizarre narrative, one which has led Surrey police up several blind alleys with little or nothing in the way of measurable results.

 Exploring the possibilities with a little help in reasoning from our medieval friar, we appear to have a choice of two different account…