Sunday, 25 May 2014

Y is for Why

(Part Three)

It had been a terrible week for Boris, of all the things that could happen the one thing he had not planned on was government cutbacks, and the decision to close his whole department. Why he thought as he sat on a bench in the park; why do this, the department is key to national security. His years of loyalty just dismissed in an instant by an admin man behind a fancy desk.

But why now, why when he was so close to revealing the true identity of The Spider, could it be coincidence. 

As he sat watching the evening sun reading the official papers explaining the closure, an old man sat on the bench and looked up into the oak tree branches above, where a small spider was spinning a strange and complex web. 

Boris looked across and thought, Why do I know his face? I have seen this chap before at the cafĂ©. . . . . Don’t I know you said Boris . . . . The old man turned and said NO, but you must be Boris. Boris was a bit taken back and just said yes. . . . .  The old man then went on to say You are searching for someone, I think you need to listen to Jazz FM tonight to the show transmitted live from the Zoot Suit Jazz Club, it will help you a lot. Boris was about to ask questions like WHY, but before he could, the old man said . . . . that Spiders web is amazing . . . . . Boris looked up trying to work out why a spider’s web should look like a Seagull holding a saxophone.  Then as Boris turned the old man was gone like a ghost in the mist.

Later back at his flat he turns on the radio and tunes into Jazz FM and hears the following

Tonight we have the new up and coming star of the Jazz scene Miss Ie Ree Ni  Van-Dagraph who’s father was the saxophone player with the well known Dutch jazz band  The Seagulls.

Well Miss Ie Ree Ni I believe your Mother was apparently a well known double agent working for the Chinese military and MI6, you must have had an interesting childhood.

 Yes I must admit I learnt many skills over the years that have come in handy from time to time. . . . . and please call me Irene it is much easier.

I also have been told you were nicknamed The Spider by you parents which is where the name for your band came from. . . . . The Black Widow and the Spider Jazz Band.

Yes that’s true, although I don’t think my boss would approve really . . . but he tends to be too busy to listen to Jazz.

Would you like to say hello just in case he is listening?

Hello Boris sorry to hear about the department, can I keep the car . . . . .

So what’s the first song then

I thought we could start with   . . . . . Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz  . . . It’s a sort of in joke.

With that Boris turns off the radio and phones the florist. . . I need to send a rose urgently . . .  tonight . . .  to the Zoot Suit Jazz Club.

No problem sir comes the reply is there a message

Yes . . .  I will see you tomorrow at the Zoot Suit Jazz Club. I will be alone.



  1. Just as I thought it was going to end! This is becoming more intriguing by the minute.

    Ah, Ms Joplin, how I love thee.

    1. Well tomorrow is it . . . . . . all will be revealed (I hope, if I can think of something)

  2. Hi Rob, I just wanted to let you know that I nominated you for a Liebster Award on your blog ... I'm looking forward to see what you write about it :) All the details are on my blog .. Fil

    1. That is very kind of you I do get awards from time to time and I have had this before in fact I created an entirely all new improved Liebster award. It will need to wait untill Tuesday as tomorrow is the big ending to my big unofficial A to Z special. In fact what may well be my very last A to Z

  3. I think a bench in a park is one of my favorite things, for observing & resting. So a beach bench at a seaside park would B even better, to see the sea. A bench of beech by the beach is a bit of a reach, but I think those grow nearby in Colorado, and I know they have lakes there, so maybe.

    1. A beech bench by the beach as the sun beat down would be best

    2. As always, you are corRect.

    3. I am nor as correct as I use to be in the old days . . . .