Old Wynne Baxter, I imagine, was wishing himself back on holiday. That, or wishing I"d take one. But it was not to be, so Monday, 1 October, the Coroner for Southeast Middlesex found himself back at work with the first meeting of his Inquest into the death of the Squealer in St George-in-the-East. I"d had a laugh at these gatherings in the past but, all joking aside, I resolved to follow this particular inquiry closely and to read the newspapers with discerning interest.
The reason should be obvious and, trust me, ran deeper than ego.
By the time I"d finished on the night of the double event, I confess, I returned home concerned about my situation. Specifically about the witnesses. I"d done a grand job on the drunken w****s. But I"d been slack in letting myself be seen by so many; two me
