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231 lines
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<title>27</title>
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<h1>27</h1>
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<p>Tam came racing along the trackway just below the flattened patch of gorse and pulled the bike up when the
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reached the pair of them. Neil was brushing the matt of gorse bristles from his overalls, still slightly
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winded by the heavy fall.</p>
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<p>"What a show," he said, holding up Jack's little camera. "I caught the whole thing. Ka-boom!"</p>
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<p>"Bloody maniac," Neil growled at Jed. "You could have warned me."</p>
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<p>"And spoil the surprise?" Jed was laughing uncontrollably, hardly able to stand. "You should have seen the
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look on your face."</p>
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<p>He grabbed up the helmet. "Come on, let's get out of here before Mutt and Jeff show up."</p>
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<p>"Will that take us all?" Neil had to know.</p>
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<p>"It's just a short trip, climb on." </p>
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<p>Neil squeezed behind Tam on the pillion and Jed squeezed behind Neil and the three of them trundled for the
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trees at the south end of the big field, keeping under cover of the ridge. They were long gone by the time
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the helicopter arrived to hover out over the drop where the tanker had thundered over. A hundred feet below
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the cliff edge where Jack Lorne and Kate Delaney had sat watching the sun sparkle on the firth, the crushed
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and mangled tanker was well ablaze on the big red rocks that were exposed at low tide.</p>
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<p>It would be late in the evening before they would recover the charred body of Wiggy Foley still trapped in
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the crumpled cab, and three more days to made a proper identification based mainly on the metal plate that
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held his false teeth.</p>
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<p>By that time it was all over and done.</p>
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<p>The boys on the bike caught up with Ed Kane just north of Arden where he had reached the bright yellow stock
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car in a clearing close to the by-pass road on which Ed had given his pursuit the fright of their lives.
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Neil got the toolbox out and helped Tam refit the bike, stripping away the Harley logos and replacing them
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with the originals. He used the electric drill to screw the panniers back on the sides. Ed lit a fire of
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pine branches and slung on the white reflector jacket and the gauntlets, and almost as an afterthought, he
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put the fake plates on the flames and watched them curl up and blacken. Tam hammered the chrome Harley
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trademark to a big Scots pine tree as a souvenir of the trip and it's still there to this day.</p>
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<p>They called Jack Lorne just as he and Donny were on the fast downslope that would take them and their heavy
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cargo to the harbour at Oban where big Lars Hanssen was ready with the derrick and an hour after that, when
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the first teams arrived down on the rocks below the Creggan Cliffs, the Valkyrie was ploughing into a gentle
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headwind past Lismore Island and out towards the Atlantic for the run up and round the north of
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Scotland.</p>
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<p>There was nothing more to do but wait.</p>
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<hr />
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<p>The call came three weeks later, and plenty had happened in that time.</p>
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<p>Angus Baxter cornered Jack and put him through it, and it was clear he knew Jack was somehow involved in all
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of this, but the policeman didn't quite understand how. He had worked out that of the bunch of good friends,
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three of them worked in the dairy and another two in Aitkenbar, and the sixth had worked the summer on the
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building site where the big tanks had vanished.</p>
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<p>He knew it, but what could he do with it? All that was just circumstantial. With Kerrigan Deane at his side,
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Jack Lorne just blanked him, followed his own advice and kept the inspector off balance. Deane was able to
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give him an unbreakable alibi for the day the whisky went down the drain in Ferguson's old yard. His uncle
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backed him up for the rest. Jack's planning and foresight made it all unimpeachable.</p>
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<p>Baxter had no muscle to push it. He had Ferguson and Cullen, and the carbonised body of Wiggy Foley, guns and
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whisky, and while he could not put his suspicions to rest, they had to remain just that forever more. His
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bosses were pleased that he'd solved the case, or most of it, and if there was any more whisky, it remained
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a mystery.</p>
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<p>At the end of the day, he wrote up the report saying most of it must have gone down the drain at the golf
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course, and everybody was happy to let it lie. </p>
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<p>Alistair Sproat was left with a big hole in his accounts and nothing to fill it with. His meeting with Kate
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Delaney taught him only that she was one very stubborn lady and if he thought he could buy her off, he had
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another think coming. Kerrigan Deane's legal action just inexorably ground him down and the development
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company pulled out of the deal which left him with an unprofitable distillery, no way to buy the new plant
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he wanted, and after paying all the redundancy, a mountain of backbreaking debt.</p>
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<p>The big customs investigation into excise duties ripped through his books and records going back twenty years
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and he ended up facing a string of fraud charges that was the final straw. Nobody cried for him. </p>
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<p>"<em>Yack</em>!" the big sailor's voice boomed in his ear. "I want my boat back."</p>
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<p>"You've got your boat."</p>
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<p>"Just the half. You've got the other half, and I want it back. You can't sail just half a boat, and I want to
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buy another as well, start my own line."</p>
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<p>"I take it everything went well? They didn't blow you out of the water?"</p>
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<p>"Everything is better than I even thought, myself. Tell you another thing, they will take twice as much next
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time round."</p>
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<p>"I don't think there's going to be a next time," Jack said. "My heart couldn't take it."</p>
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<p>"You wait and see. We do good business again, you and me."</p>
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<p>"And what about my share?"</p>
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<p>"You check the number you gave me. We split fifty-fifty, right? It's all there."</p>
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<p>And when Jack Lorne checked the number of the Cayman account he had set up in the summer, what seemed like a
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lifetime ago, it was all there. One million, three hundred and fifty thousand. Untaxed, untaxable,
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untraceable.</p>
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<p>Now he had the difficult job of telling the boys they wouldn't get their hands on a penny of it.</p>
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<hr />
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<div class='block'><strong>Levenford Gazette</strong>. November 18.</div>
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<div class='block'>By Blair Bryden.</div>
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<div class='block'>A full sized replica of King Robert Bruce's warship will be the centrepiece of an ambitious
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new heritage centre based in the Bruce Harbour at Aitkenbar Distillery.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>The educational and tourist attraction is the end result of a remarkable chain of events
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which has turned around the fortunes of the town and given it great hope for the future.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Announcing the construction of the warship, Charter 1315 Chairman Kate Delaney said it would
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provide a historic link with the town's illustrious past and its promising future, provide new jobs in the
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tourist industry and give the town a centrepiece which will be the envy of the country.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Ms Delaney led the fight against the destruction of the historic harbour and the legal action
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against Aitkenbar Distillery owner Alistair Sproat is seen by many as the catalyst in the recent upheaval in
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Levenford.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Sproat, who is facing a number of serious allegations regarding customs declarations lost
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control of the family business earlier this year after a number of deals went spectacularly wrong and after
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an equally spectacular raid on the distillery in which more than 20,000 gallons of vintage Scotch whisky was
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stolen.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Police inquiries into alleged connections between the whisky theft and the accused are still
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continuing. Four arrests have been made.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>After announcing major job losses in the summer, and his plan to site a new designer drinks
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premises in Glasgow, Alistair Sproat unloaded the failing Dunvegan Distillery in a management buy-out
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leveraged by offshore firm Gabriel and Company. In a remarkable turn around, the small island distillery
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altered its thrust to a new malt liqueur and cream-based drinks production which secured markets in the
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supermarket and off license sectors.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Levenford Dairy, facing closure to pave the way for the ill-fated mall development, joined
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the co-operative in the production of milk products for the various drinks and also in the bottling sector,
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which saved the jobs of more than forty local employees.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>The mystery Gabriel and Company, based in the Cayman Islands, seems however, to have put down
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roots in Levenford, having appointed a number of local businessmen and former employees of Aitkenbar to its
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management team.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>In October, the company stepped in when Aitkenbar faced receivership, and took over the
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production and storage facility, and for the first time in 200 years, malt whisky production in Levenford
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ceased. With the development of new plant, the premises have embarked on a radical 'designer' drink venture
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which has so far secured the jobs of the former employees who were threatened by the mall development.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Spokesperson Mrs Margery Burns, former PA to Alistair Sproat said: "We plan to convert the
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old malt whisky production section into an industrial museum and tourist facility which will operate in
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conjunction with the new heritage centre on the harbour.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>"Gabriel & Company have relinquished any claim to the harbour and will match public
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donations to ensure its success."
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</div>
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<div class='block'>The first production of the new designer drinks will begin next week to take advantage of the
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Christmas trade. Already markets have been secured in Norway and Sweden and once again, the international
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victualling and drinks chain Hammond Hall, has stepped in to support the company and concluded a deal for a
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massive order.
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</div>
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<div class='block'>Ms Delaney, a local artist and teacher, whose works are on show in Kelvingrove Art Gallery in
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an exhibition sponsored by the Gabriel Foundation said: "The change of fortunes in Levenford are all due to
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the determination of some people to take huge risks and to show that with effort and imagination, they can
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take charge of their own destiny. Without them, this town would remain forever a backwater."
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</div>
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<p>JUNE:</p>
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<p>The sleek red car made its way down from High Overburn, flicking round the turns at ramming speed. The sun
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was still low in the sky, sending bright rays through the thick leaves, making promise of a scorching day
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ahead.</p>
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<p>The car followed the same route down the hill that almost a year before, two stolen tankers had trundled in
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the dead of night, freewheeling down from the hiding place in the plantation. This time the open-topped
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tourer was using its power to negotiate the leafy bends.</p>
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<p>It sped down to the dual carriageway, along the straight past the looming bulk of the castle rock and
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followed the new river road to the big wrought iron gate of the distillery. It paused at the gatehouse and
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the driver waved to Kerr Thomson, who, once badly bitten, could be trusted with anything. Somebody,
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somewhere, still had the prints, and well he knew it.</p>
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<p>It waited there until a big new truck pulled out from the loading bay and exited on the other side of the
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security box, a twelve-wheeler flatbed with a silver container on its back. Along the side of the container,
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a bright red piece of graphic art showed a winged vision flying. It was done in the fast, flash brushstrokes
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that Kate Delaney had used on the heritage wall way back then.</p>
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<p>Below it, in a red slash, the words could be read half a mile away.</p>
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<p><em>The Angels Share.</em></p>
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<p>The driver and passenger stopped to watch as the big truck eased out of the compound out, and then the car
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swung away to pull in at the front of the new glass building. The driver stepped out, showing long and
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shapely legs and a very expensive pair of stiletto heels.</p>
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<p>She bent back into the car as the passenger shifted across to get behind the wheel.</p>
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<p>"Pigeons or sailing today?" She pecked him quickly on the cheek, leaving a red smudge.</p>
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<p>"Life is short," Sandy Bruce told her. "Probably both."</p>
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<p>"Lazy old scoundrel," she said, and turned towards the tall glass door.</p>
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<p>Margery Burns reached the big conference room at the end of the bright corridor, went in, closed the door
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behind her.</p>
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<p>"Okay," Jack Lorne said. "Lets get down to business."</p>
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<p>Margery sat two seats away from him and began to write quickly in the minute book. The rest of them waited to
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hear what he had to say.</p>
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<p>"I've just had this idea," he began. He looked round at the faces of his friends.</p>
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<p>"I think you might like it."</p>
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<div class='end'>THE END</div>
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