The Local Cold War


 

The Russian murdered in London last week - was killed not even a mile from where we live. His house is now completely cordoned off with tents extending over his front garden and including two houses to either side. Four or five police cars and vans remained parked outside, although the press have left now - probably chased away by the freezing weather.

A lone sentry police officer remains however - standing outside the tent on a continual shift - in case the nasty Russian agents return to the scene for some evidence that they might have left.

On our way out, we drove by the scene yesterday during a snow flurry - and we noted what a tough gig for the officer - keeping us all safe.

And returning home a couple of hours later - with the weather now even worse - he was still in place, poor bloke. Standing ram rod straight, probably because he was frozen solid and from our warm car (heated seats, don't you know) - the moment rather took us...

An impromptu stop over at Sainsbury's, we are driving back to the murder scene with a large coffee, sugar in sachets and a chocolate bar. We are discussing the ethics of the situation.

Are they allowed to accept gifts?

I am driving and so I suggest that Nikki hops out with it. It was her idea after all.

But can he accept food in the light that the Russians in Salisbury were poisoned, so giving a guarding officer a cup of coffee that could have been tampered with...

This is a decent point and neither of us are sure of the protocol.

Then Nikki has another thought...

You do it Dom, because he might think that I am the girlfriend of one of these Russian plutocrats!

I smile at this, 

"No offence, Nikki, but..."