'Well.' said Dirk, reluctantly putting aside Penny's cake. 'I've collated the data on where the vouchers that have been identified so far have been used. All around south London as it happens. I've done an analysis that gives us likely addresses of the culprit assuming this is our forger testing his wares before going live. I've been using software used by the CIA to locate serial killers as well as some stuff I've pulled together myself.'

'Hence all the scribbling on that map? 'Pawser glanced at the laminated map on the wall of London covered in childrens crayon marks. 'And?'

Dirk nodded in agreement and continued. 'Well I've done a statistical analysis and by applying a regression analysis.....'

'Dirk, Dirk. Let me just stop you there.' Pawser held up his hand. 'Much as Killerman and I are awestruck by the glittering waters that overfloweth from your golden chalice of intellectual magnificence. Let me just remind you that, as of late, The Fates have irreverently tinkled in those waters leading those upstairs to cease to drink from your fountain of wondrous knowledge, it having recently acquired a rather bitter taste.'

'Lachesis still has ample opportunity to change my lot.' Dirk was clearly irritated at having been interrupted mid flow.

'So Dirk,' said Pawser slightly thrown by Dirks reference to something or someone he'd never heard of. 'So what I'm saying is, since it became known by the vetting teams that your personal life makes that of the Marques de Sade's look like a nun on a pilgrimage to Lourdes, you are destined to be forever more stuck with the rather less intellectual staff that make up this department.'

'Lachesis was one of the three fates Pawser who could change your destiny.' Dirk remarked dryly.

'I think it's going to take more than a mythological tart in a pinny to change your destiny Dirk.' countered Pawser.

'What are you? Some sort of soothsayer now? You can't see the future any more than I can.' Dirks face flushed red with irritation.

'Dirk, Dirk, Dirk.' Pawser pacified.' You must put aside any thought of being transferred back to your old job. A life of quaffing chilled gilded goblets of Pimms whilst playing Kerplunck with your peers over in the glittering halls of GCHQ. You should resign yourself to the fact that you will be here until you collect your free bus pass .You should adapt yourself to the environment you find yourself in. AKA we don't need all the fancy bullshit just the bit at the end about what you have found out.'

'I never said you were less intellectually capable than me,' said Dirk huffily.

'I wasn't talking about me. I was talking about Killerman.'

'What's that?' said Killerman brushing Penny's cake crumbs off his new jacket into his hand and eating them.

'Besides which,' said Dirk pressing his case, 'the doors to those hallowed halls are not forever closed to me. All I need to do is prove my capabilities in field operations and I'm sure they will consider taking me back into the fold.'

'It going to take more than a flash suit, an exotic piercing, a false tan and a chipper smile to persuade those Titans of intellect over at GCHQ to take you back Dirk so I wouldn't count your Fates until you know they're playing for the home team.' Pawser admired Dirks resolution to return once again to stroll in the exalted foyers of GCHQ but felt it was his duty to get Dirk to see that such an eventuality was more than unlikely.

'I don't have a false tan, its natural.' stated Dirk emphatically.

'No doubt picked up from helping collect in the olive harvest over last weekend in the sun kissed Anatolian groves surrounding Colchester.'

'My father was of Roman stock according to my mother. I never knew him but it would explain my bronzed complexion, rather than the pasty countenance of some in this office.' said Dirk pointedly.

'At what point did she decide he was Italian origin, when he knocked on the door and she saw his Italian moped and took delivery of her meat 'n feast Neapolitan pizzas?'

'His name was Roberto actually,' replied Dirk touchily.

I'm surprised she had time to ask. She must have been desperate to tuck into her pizza and he must have wanted to get back on the road .Those pizzas don't stay hot for long you know.'

'That reminds me .These are for you and Killerman.' Dirk passed Pawser a brown paper bag that had been sitting on his desk. Pawser looked into the bag and then at Dirk and passed it to Killerman. 'These are for you Killerman.'

Killerman looked in the bag. 'Fresh olives, excellent .I'll be able to knock up a Mediterranean salad with my oyster mushroom tonight .Thanks Dirk.'

'My apologies Dirk it appears the rolling hills sounding Colchester have yet to give up their secrets to the world at large. Let's get on with it.' Pawser pushed on slightly perplexed.

'Well in brief, 'said Dirk curtly, 'Cross referencing likely addresses with known forgers and fraudsters on the National Criminal database, I've got a hit at an address in Beckenham. One Freddie 'The Fingers' Flannigan.'

'I know Freddy,' said Killerman inspecting a blemished green olive.' He used to hang around South London. Big bloke with a limp.' With a nod of approval he popped the olive in his mouth.

'And was he inclined to come over all Da Vinci of a cold winter's eve and start knocking out sketches with more than an accidental resemblance to the currency of the realm?' enquired Pawser holding the sheet of forged vouchers up to the light.

'Rumour had it he used to be one of the Pony club,' said Killerman rummaging again in the olive bag

'Pony club?'

'Yeh. Ask any of them and they'd always have a Pony on them, all forged of course.' Killerman slowly chewed as he sought out some old memories. 'There was Freddy, Fast Harry Houdini, and the O'Reilly brothers. Freddie was really thick with the O'Reilly brothers. They were into gun running, dodgy alcohol, tax free cigarette imports and small time extortion. That sort of thing. Freddy did three years for fraud .It was Bank Drafts back then as I recall.'

'There's a bit here about the O'Reilly's I picked up from Customs and Excise,' interrupted Dirk,' apparently they run a small series of specialist food shops around up-market parts of London.' Dirk checked the computer.' Here we are 'Fat Fanny's, The Farmers Wife' it's called.'

'How lovely. Did they pick the name as it reminded them of the magical Green Isle I wonder?'

'These names are all the rage nowadays. According to its accounts it's doing very well. It says here Customs and Excise were in there last year to do an inspection.' Dirk tapped his computer screen with his pencil. 'They suspected it's a front for money laundering but couldn't prove anything.'

'I would have thought it would be pretty easy to prove. I certainly wouldn't buy anything Fat Fanny had had her sweaty porky whites around.' Pawser remarked.

'You know I got something from Fat Fanny's last Christmas I think,' interjected Killerman.

'You never told us Killerman otherwise we'd have given you your own cup to drink out of,' said Dirk pulling a face.

Killerman pressed on 'Yes, it was from one of their delicatessens in Covent Garden I got it. A Christmas pudding. It was rather nice actually, sort of nutty with a rather exotic blend of citrus fruits and I think just a hint of cinnamon.' He closed his eyes as if recalling the moment.

'Well thank you Egon Ronay. And will you be giving Fat Fanny's emporium one or two stars?' Dirk jibed.

'Is this just because you're surprised that I too can enjoy some of the finer things in life? I'm not an absolute heathen you know.' Killerman stared hard at Dirk.

'Actually no, Killerman, I'm just surprised you know what a delicatessen is.'

Pawser thought for a minute. 'So there we have it. It appears Freddy the Forger has set up shop down in deepest darkest Beckenham running a dodgy voucher scam funded by none other than the illicit returns from Fat Fanny's House of dubious food fare. I feel we need to investigate further, not least for the pleasure we will get from being involved in a prosecution that will read 'The Crown Prosecution vs. Freddy the Fingers and Fat Fanny's.''

Pawser put down his cake and added resolutely. 'I'm sorry lads with only ten shopping days until Christmas it likely our vouchers forgers are about to dump their stock on the market if they haven't already done so. We're under pressure here. We'll have to forego the planned lunch today down at the Ship.'

There was a palpable groan from Dirk and Killerman. Long lunches at the Ship were a weekly ritual not to be waved lightly.

'Killerman you're with me. Dirk, get on to the Yard and get some oppo's from Special Branch down there will you. We may need to gain access and if Freddy any of his mates turn up, a couple of heavies with a propensity toward unwarranted physical violence could be handy. Tell them we'll meet them over there. Oh and get on the phone to all your friends in Essex and tell them to cancel their Christmas shopping trips to London.'

Dirk picked up the handset. 'Shall I let them know we'll be sending them some vouchers if we can get hold of them?'

'Certainly not. I just don't want them up here nicking all the good stuff before we can redeem the vouchers ourselves.'

Dirk sighed and replaced the handset.

As Pawser left he could hear Dirk quietly whistling to himself, 'If I were a rich man.' Over and over.