the last hurrah?

You may have noticed that the last few entries have focused on events that stop just around the beginning of September. There is a good reason for this, and that is because I have been fighting a war on several fronts the last couple of weeks and have not had the inclination nor the opportuntiy to bring you up to date.

Perhaps I have been putting my head in the sand and it is time to face the music. I have been interviewed by police from 3 forces more than five times in the last four weeks. The Norfolk Constabulary told me yesterday on the phone that they are pressing charges for assault on Toby Hancock-Jones, my fomer nemesis whom I decked in a Kings Lynn hotel a few weeks ago, and that I should report to a police station within 24 hours or they'd come and get me.

Then I was contacted by the local constabulary who told me they were pressing charges for sexual assault against the girl whom I thought killed by Ravel. They knew that the Norfolk police were after me, and offered to deal with both cases if I report to the local village police post within 24 hours.

Finally, I was contacted by the Serious Fraud Squad who let it be known that I am a potential witness in the trial of the former head of department at the university where I noticed bizarre things going on with student exam scripts. They sent two men round to the institute to interview me. They’d come all the way from Manchester and were not in the best of moods after having been led down a very narrow lane by their satellite navigation system. So narrow in fact, that their newly acquired car turned up at the Institute looking like it had been attacked by a pack of wild cats.

For a man to face two sets of charges, one of which is without foundation and one of which has been grossly exagerated, is simply not expected. I have to say that my fortitude is wavering slightly. Dolores is being superb of course. I am facing the prospect of defending myself in two courts simultaneously with some trepidation. I asked a local constable how it would be logistically possible for me to face two sets of charges under two constabularies at the same time whilst appearing as a witness at a major fraud trial. He smiled, in a genuine attempt to show sympathy I think, and told me that they’d just stack them up on top of each other. One after the next. He didn’t want to alarm me, he said, but I could be looking at five years.

‘But I’m innocent!’ I protested

'If that’s your story Dr Crumble’ replied the policeman. 'Then I advise you to stick with it'.

To distract myself from worrying I have begun to put my house in order. First priority is the book of the blog. I’ve already written the acknowledgments, the preface, the novella bonus section, designed the cover. If I am taken into custody and not given immediate bail, Dolores will have to finish things and get the printed tome out into the wider world. That is assuming the police don’t confiscate my computer. To guard against this eventuality I’m backing everything up on an online server. Dr Mark Booth from the university of Cambridge has kindly agreed to take over the editing and marketing of the book. He doesn’t yet know about the charges against me, and thinks I ‘m just too busy. I think he also feels a bit guilty about persuading me to hand over all the profits (yes, I capitulated) for his charity. I hope he doesn’t think badly of me.

By the way, the 24 hours was up about 6 hours ago.