An anecdote

Here goes official account of my meeting two days ago at the Cumberland Club.

Thursday: Successful hitch to Ullapool with a young lady from Brighton (and her mother), the young lady is not relevant to the case except to point out that she had the most wonderful soft light brown hair on her arms, and was a wonderful human being besides. I was weak as a dog from throat infections. Bus journey to Edinburgh uneventful.

Friday: Kooper Bloomfield Stills Super Session acquired in backbeat, along with Patti Smith Horses also on vinyl. Also Pearl Jam Ten on vinyl acquired previously in Vinyl Villains.

Saturday:
8.00pm: Acquired around 12 black ballpoints from pizza express Sat pm. (The owner was dumping them after 10 mins of use, due to ease of acquisition and basic mental and emotional disassociation with resources) – sufficient ammunition for any remaining journalism to occur, though case was at this point forgotten to the investigator.
10.00pm: Approached the Cumberland Club. Drinking screwdrivers.
12.30: Contact A sighted, being interrogated by R.G.
1.00am: Contact A approached. Introduced by R.G. through accusation by R.G. of Contact A’s hair being flicked backwards into face of the investigator (false).
Name is Candy, from Port X on the coast of L. Huron. Various information. Investigator decided to come clean about the case. Contact A suggests L. Superior most likely location of the hidden State of Michigan; ‘because Lake Superior is bigger than the State of Michigan’. Contact A corrects investigator’s pronunciation of Michigan (Should be ‘Mishigan’, not ‘mitchigan’ as investigator had been saying).
1.30am: Contact B approaches investigator. Accent like Loyd Grosman only more drug-addled.
‘That’s my wife you’ve been talking to.’
‘I know’ (smilingly).
Contact B reveals he is a freelance photojournalist who tracks urban foxes. ‘There’s this one, but I can’t tell you, or they’ll...[slurring – I don’t know who they are or what they would do.]

Contact B tells investigator the location of said urban fox. For now at least, this investigator will refer to location as E.B.G. “My friends tell me send these pictures to the newpapers. I can’t do that…” … He is still on its trail. “I would give myself a 97% chance of tracking this fox.” At this point investigator has grabbed 1 of his ballpoints and is hastily scribbling notes on the back of contact B’s business card. He notices; looks alarmed or confused. ‘It’s okay, I’m just making a few notes.’