The Abyss Also Gazes

The sweet smell of pipe tobacco filled the room as I sat waiting for Donald Findlay to speak. I'd been shown to his room by Mrs Hudson the housekeeper and was welcomed with a shake of his hand to sit down as he paced the floor puffing furiously on a number seven pipe. Before coming here I'd finally been cornered by the wife who was waiting at the back of my flat and jumped out at me when I'd lowered myself on a rope from the bedroom window - maybe I should get rid of this rope as I'm sure it's how Tom Devine, Bat Cosgrove and Alex Mosson when he's on the burglary again, get into my gaff constantly. Anyway, the wife surprised me by asking for me to take her back - it seems her latest arm candy, Jason Allardyce has gone back to his boyfriend, Bishop Devine and chucked the missus out on her ear a week ago so here she is begging to be let back into the marital home. Her sobbing touched my heart so I told her to hang on while I tidied away the Martin O'Neill scrapbook and took down the framed pictures of Matt McGlone naked and let her in, telling her to make herself at home while I set off on my latest adventure. I could still hear her crying as I closed the door behind me and set off for 221b Baker Street.

I'd been sitting in the middle of the pipe smoke for about half an hour before Findlay deigned to speak and even that was to simply say, 'He's here.'
'Who's here?' I asked and the door opened and in came Martin Bain, tucking his shirt into his trousers and straightening up his tie - was that a glimpse of a red cape I noticed sticking out of the collar of his shirt?
'Ah, Spiers,' said Bain, 'glad you're here. Has Donald told you anything?'
Findlay piped up, 'No, we haven't spoken yet - I take it you've been to erm, you know where?'
'Yes, yes, let's just say there are two men in Boston who won't be doing anything like that again in a hurry,' smiled Bain who I noticed smelled strongly of ozone.
'What did you do to them?' asked Findlay.
'Stuck ones head up the other ones arse, I thought it was for the best,' smiled Bain, sitting down, regarding me the whole time he was speaking.
'So Spiers, tell us how Lawwell feels about having an android for a manager then,' said Bain, turning to Findlay and laughing. So I told them about Lawwell losing his grip and not noticing anything wrong with the new Lennon and they listened intently, smiling and nodding occasionally.
'Yes, we didn't think he had,' said Findlay, tugging at his whiskers and taking a long slow pull at his pipe. 'He's so busy maintaining order with the few journalists he still has on side that he's not even stopped to wonder why his interim manager is rolling around the ground with steam coming out of his nostrils although with the past behaviour of this curious fellow, who's to notice the difference? No, no one at Parkhead suspects a thing, or if they do then we don't know about it but the thing is, and this is what interests me the most, since it ain't us and it ain't them - who's controlling Lennon?'
There was a long smokey silence until Bain spoke up, 'And that's what we want you to do, find out.'
'Me? Why me?' I bleated.
'Because, my dear fellow, we have pulled your fat out of the fire more times than we can shake a stick at. Why, on a monthly basis Graeme Souness saves your life, Donald here has rescued you on at least three occasions I can think of and who do you think arranged the reconciliation of Jason Allardyce with Bishop Devine to allow your wife to return to you?'
'That was you?' I squeaked in indignation. Who said I even wanted her back in the flat and me back in the closet?
'Of course, you can thank us later,' chortled Findlay, his eyes flashing with mischief.
'One thing you need to be aware of,' smiled Bain. 'We added a little something to Lennon's internal works when we had him in pieces at Murray Park, if anyone should try to make a fool of us next Tuesday...'
He left it at that and I wish he hadn't because I didn't have a clue what he was on about as by that point I was already thinking about Neil Lennon leaving something inside me. By this time though, it was obvious I was no longer needed and I rose from my seat to stop Mrs Hudson from pulling at my sleeve and coughing into her hand. As I was leaving the room I turned and said into the smoke, 'Do you think it's nearly all over? The madness I mean. There's never been a season like this before what with all the violence, gulags, monstrous creatures and deaths and everything. Now that you've won the league, do you think it'll finish?'
I heard Findlay chuckle and Bain's voice came from within, 'It could be. Or this could all just be the beginning, Spiers. Think about it, when did all these strange and awful things start happening? When did Lawwell turn from a mere bigoted Chief Executive of a second rate Scottish football team and become a raving monster? What turned Jim Traynor from an ignorant hack into a slavering beast and yourself from a pompous parochial sports writer into a ranting Rangers hating parody?. All these things have one thing in common and Cosgrove wasn't far off it when he called you a weirdness magnet. Yes Spiers, all of these things began to happen the moment you began to write your diary. Strange, eh? Think about that on your way home tonight. Oh, and remember who your friends are when Lawwell has his strength back and is brandishing that horse whip of his.'

I left 221b and jumped into a hansom cab and sat beneath my corduroy great coat listening to the sounds outside of the horses hooves as they clattered along the cobble stones, pulling the cab behind it. I gazed out of the window and saw silhouetted against the full moon, the shape of a man dressed as a bat crouching on a rooftop. This was all rather rum and that's without even considering the interim manager of Celtic being a robot. I sighed, then lay back in the cab and gazed unto the abyss.