Serial

Sohpia emerged once more from the house, carrying the precious liquid cargo; she handed me the glass without comment, an ice cube tinkling deliciously. “Dinner ready soon Mr Gardner. You eat in dining room?” Sophia knew that by eating in the dining room, I would be less likely to drink, as I considered drinking on […]

Lord Byron turned on his back; he eyed my bare feet, which lay tantalisingly close to his paws, one big toe waving in time to the Greek pop song playing on the radio in the kitchen, where Sophia was preparing dinner. I sat in my favourite armchair on the terrace, and sipped from a glass

They walked upstairs, the door to No. 4 was still open. The flat had the same stale aroma as the front hall, it was a cheap rental property, with little furniture. “I say again, what is the meaning of this?” snorted Depardon, Templeman showed Depardon his warrant card. “Special Branch? Why is Special Branch involved?”

“Why don’t Service officers do these shifts?” asked Cosby. Templeman pondered a reply. “There are two reasons Micky; the first is the official one, the second the unofficial one. The official reason is that Secret Service officers do not have a power of arrest, they hold no police warrant and can take no one into

Templeman yawned, his breath rapidly condensing in the darkened cabin of the Ford Zodiac as warm and cold collided. He was tired and his limbs were numb: sleep beckoned; it was the animal response to the wintry night. He considered the bonnet of the car, where a sheet of frost had formed as the vehicle

“Yes,” I said, a little forlornly, “once London did hold considerable attraction.” Ms Clements looked at me with a sudden spark in her eyes that said: “I knew it! I bloody knew it!” “Can you tell me more Michael?” she said and leaned forward. “Oh, I had grown tired of life in an anxious vacuum.

Although I had agreed to refer to her by her given name for the interview, for me it is important to retain memorial distance with strangers, particularly those whose intentions are or were unclear. Therefore, Ms Clements displayed the nervy energy of a person who lives in a different plane of reference. During the formal

I had been told very little by my agent about Ms Clements, and I do not like meeting people about whom I know little. But more troubling was the disturbance to my peace after 5 years on Corfu.“But why?” I had asked over the telephone.“They are running a story on writers in exile…”“Oh God! That

Welcome to Corfu, home of writer Michael Gardner. His career is in the doldrums, he drinks to excess, but there is always the sun, and a never ending parade of friends and drinking companions to while away the time in his earthly paradise. 

Detective Inspector John Templeman is a policeman in 60s London. He is a detective but rarely investigates crimes; he is a Special Branch officer. He had been a National Service soldier, then stayed on; he left the Army and joined the Police.  Special Branch was a department of the Metropolitan Police, responsible for anti-terrorism and