Alfie didn’t even ask for any identification and he obviously doesn’t know you from Adam – or is that Eve – or Ruthie for that matter -.”
Ruthie, smiling broadly, held up her tiny micro-recorder and a Manila folder.
“Dinky sang like a budgie and I think we’ve got a great exposé in this little thing here. He confirmed that the quarter mill is in his Swiss account and that he will be flying out for an extended holiday to ‘don’t ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’ land, wherever that is? So when the story on his boss Nesto Petrianni’s dirty deeds hits the front page - Alfie will be nowhere to be seen. He has also provided an extensive dossier full of papers and invoices and disks full of incriminating evidence that the police are just going to love to get their hands on. Voila!”
Jill smiled a huge smile of relief.
“God, Ruthie, ta loads for covering my arse!”
“Look, Jill, I’m just so pleased to be in the game now and you’ve helped me get there big-time. As far as Buckley is concerned it was Jill Geeson that conducted the interview -”
Ruthie switched her polite upstate New York accent and tried to imitate Jill’s Glaswegian accent.
“Ah even tried tae use that hellish Glesga accent o’ yours, Jill.”
Jill laughed out loud.
“Oh please tell me ah don’t sound anythin’ like that!”
So now Jill and Ruthie were sitting in the Times office putting the Dinky Budge exposé to bed for tomorrow’s front page. Jill had allowed Ruthie a lot of leeway on the writing up of the piece and she was really impressed with Ruthie’s gutsy determined journalistic style. Jill had agreed that the article would show both their names in the by-line and Ruthie was over the Moon. Jill was keen to put it to bed by lunchtime as she had planned to meet Ewan and Gary back at the Euston iCafé at 2 o’clock, although she now also knew that she could trust Ruthie to iron out any last minute changes. Jill’s mobile rang and she saw it was Ewan’s photo on the screen.
“Hi, Ewan -”
Ewan hesitated.
“Um, hi, Jill –“
Jill could not make him out very well as it was very noisy in the background.
“What’s that noise? Is that the train?”
“No, Jill, it’s a helijet. Gary and I have just taken off from Edinburgh Helipad. But –“
“Okay, Ewan, we still on for two then -?”
“Look, Jill, the thing is this – something new has come up. We are actually heading for -”
The helijet must have been taking off as Jill could not make out what Ewan said.
“Ewan, you cut out there. Where are you going?”
“Islay, Jill –“
“Islay - what the hell’s there? What about our meeting, Ewan? Ah’ve gone out on a limb with Buckley on this ‘cos you’re a friend!”
“I know, Jill, I really appreciate that. But I’m following up a new lead on the comet. Gary and I just need another couple of days –“
Jill was mildly irritated, but Ruthie had put her in such a good mood, that she laughed and joked back to Ewan.
“Okay, Ewan, but don’t come back to me unless your news from Islay is earth-shattering!”
“I’ll do my best, Jill. Speak later.”
*
Earthdate: 12:35 Friday February 7, 2081 IST
Rebecca Menachim answered the ringing phone on the Nimrod SH2 2082 Project Team monitor. Yosep Goldenheim’s shaven-headed face appeared on the screen. He barked through his goatee beard in his usual Billy Goat Gruff manner.
“Rebecca! Is Ari there or has he gone out to lunch?”
Rebecca, a feisty Kibbutzim-raised single Sabra, who had already done two years National Service in the Israeli Army before studying for her astrophysics degree, had no fear of Goldenheim’s bullying techniques.
“Lunch, Mr Goldenheim! We’re too busy for lunches down here. Ari is right here - working hard as we speak with Jerzy and Noam on those budget saving options.”
Goldenheim softened his harsh tone with Rebecca. Goldenheim’s attitude at work had not been helped by his recent
Ruthie, smiling broadly, held up her tiny micro-recorder and a Manila folder.
“Dinky sang like a budgie and I think we’ve got a great exposé in this little thing here. He confirmed that the quarter mill is in his Swiss account and that he will be flying out for an extended holiday to ‘don’t ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’ land, wherever that is? So when the story on his boss Nesto Petrianni’s dirty deeds hits the front page - Alfie will be nowhere to be seen. He has also provided an extensive dossier full of papers and invoices and disks full of incriminating evidence that the police are just going to love to get their hands on. Voila!”
Jill smiled a huge smile of relief.
“God, Ruthie, ta loads for covering my arse!”
“Look, Jill, I’m just so pleased to be in the game now and you’ve helped me get there big-time. As far as Buckley is concerned it was Jill Geeson that conducted the interview -”
Ruthie switched her polite upstate New York accent and tried to imitate Jill’s Glaswegian accent.
“Ah even tried tae use that hellish Glesga accent o’ yours, Jill.”
Jill laughed out loud.
“Oh please tell me ah don’t sound anythin’ like that!”
So now Jill and Ruthie were sitting in the Times office putting the Dinky Budge exposé to bed for tomorrow’s front page. Jill had allowed Ruthie a lot of leeway on the writing up of the piece and she was really impressed with Ruthie’s gutsy determined journalistic style. Jill had agreed that the article would show both their names in the by-line and Ruthie was over the Moon. Jill was keen to put it to bed by lunchtime as she had planned to meet Ewan and Gary back at the Euston iCafé at 2 o’clock, although she now also knew that she could trust Ruthie to iron out any last minute changes. Jill’s mobile rang and she saw it was Ewan’s photo on the screen.
“Hi, Ewan -”
Ewan hesitated.
“Um, hi, Jill –“
Jill could not make him out very well as it was very noisy in the background.
“What’s that noise? Is that the train?”
“No, Jill, it’s a helijet. Gary and I have just taken off from Edinburgh Helipad. But –“
“Okay, Ewan, we still on for two then -?”
“Look, Jill, the thing is this – something new has come up. We are actually heading for -”
The helijet must have been taking off as Jill could not make out what Ewan said.
“Ewan, you cut out there. Where are you going?”
“Islay, Jill –“
“Islay - what the hell’s there? What about our meeting, Ewan? Ah’ve gone out on a limb with Buckley on this ‘cos you’re a friend!”
“I know, Jill, I really appreciate that. But I’m following up a new lead on the comet. Gary and I just need another couple of days –“
Jill was mildly irritated, but Ruthie had put her in such a good mood, that she laughed and joked back to Ewan.
“Okay, Ewan, but don’t come back to me unless your news from Islay is earth-shattering!”
“I’ll do my best, Jill. Speak later.”
*
Earthdate: 12:35 Friday February 7, 2081 IST
Rebecca Menachim answered the ringing phone on the Nimrod SH2 2082 Project Team monitor. Yosep Goldenheim’s shaven-headed face appeared on the screen. He barked through his goatee beard in his usual Billy Goat Gruff manner.
“Rebecca! Is Ari there or has he gone out to lunch?”
Rebecca, a feisty Kibbutzim-raised single Sabra, who had already done two years National Service in the Israeli Army before studying for her astrophysics degree, had no fear of Goldenheim’s bullying techniques.
“Lunch, Mr Goldenheim! We’re too busy for lunches down here. Ari is right here - working hard as we speak with Jerzy and Noam on those budget saving options.”
Goldenheim softened his harsh tone with Rebecca. Goldenheim’s attitude at work had not been helped by his recent
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