Quote from: dannyboy on September 26, 2023, 03:33:48 PMGlad that you are feeling better now Martin and it is nice to read more of this intriguing story. 

Seconded! Lord Trevelver, although a devotee of very fine 'Tullibardine' Scottish malt whisky, is a great supporter of all things Cornish and is very partial to the excellent whiskies produced at St. Agnes, too, and has a stock of testing selections in beautiful specially commissioned wooden boxes to give as gifts to especially favoured friends and business partners. Eli is particularly proud of the design for the distillery logo. [A future job for my graphic design student?]

Very neat work martin

    
  Many thanks Martin superb story & photos of Tregonning it looks even better in the flesh.
   stay safe regards Derek

Part Twenty Seven
The Net Closes in on Brodie
First though a photograph depicting the sleepy little village of Tregonning. Who would predict the drama about to unfold just up the hill away, out of view, to the right?


Part Twenty Seven

Sandy arrived in Wadebridge just before mid day after an enjoyable, but thankfully uneventful, bus journey.
He knew nothing at all about the town but he trusted  his 'copper's nose' implicitly.
He needed to find what he would describe as a 'no hopers bar' so he took a leisurely stroll around. It was a quaint, typically Cornish town, with a good mix of shops, small cafes, a few offices and a variety of pubs.
He strolled down Molesworth Street and past The Molesworth Arms but that didn't fit the bill. Walking out of town Sandy passed the Withered Bough Inn near the railway sheds but again it just wasn't right. He then headed back into town he wandered up a side street which contained a row of dingy, granite buildings including a rather tatty pub named The Penny Farthing.
Sandy knew instantly that this was the place.

By now Jimmy had reached Tregonning and wandered up to the distillery's old warehouses having previously purchased some new locks and bolts in the local hardware store. He had also purchased a good quality torch remembering how dark the warehouse had been on his last visit. Fitting of the new locks could wait. First though he had a plan to implement.

Entering the warehouse he soon located the three cases of bottled whisky which luckily were stacked right  next to a pair of wooden casks with large Xs chalked on the sides. This was undoubtedly the poor quality spirit that should have been discarded several years ago.
Jimmy was well used to manhandling whisky casks so carefully manoeuvred the two barrels on their rims to a position near to the entrance. He placed the three cases next to them taking care to remove a single bottle  so that he would recognise it again if necessary. He also used an old rag to remove the X marks on the casks which he replaced with the wording St A 4/59.

Jimmy spent the next forty five minutes or  so having a look around the warehouse before deciding it was time, hopefully, for Brodie to turn up.

Luckily, it was another nice, warm and sunny day allowing Jimmy to find a lovely, sheltered spot behind some bushes just up the lane beyond warehouse. Opening up the pack of ham sandwiches, wrapped in greaseproof paper, that he'd been given by one of the hotel cooks, Jimmy waited.

Back in Wadebridge, Sandy walked confidently into the pub which was empty apart from the rather surly landlord reading a crumpled copy of The Daily Mirror at the bar.
Sandy was well used to dealing with such a situation so came straight to the point, "Good morning Sir, I'm from the council. Nothing to worry about but I'm told I might find a chap called Big Bert in here together with an Irish friend called Brodie".
The landlord barely looked up but his eyes gave away just the hint of recognition once he heard the two names. It was confirmation enough for Sandy despite the landlord snarling "Never 'eard of 'em".

"Ok, thank you for your time sir, I will enquire elsewhere" replied Sandy leaving the pub just as a medium sized Bedford pick up truck drew up opposite driven by a portly looking chap wearing a scruffy, torn shirt. As the truck stopped a younger lad stepped out from behind a building slipping quickly into the passenger seat before the truck set off again.

Sandy's years of experience in studying the activities and psychological traits of criminals told him all he needed to know. The young lad getting into the driver's seat matched the description of Daniel Brodie perfectly.

The question was, where were the pair heading off to?

Sandy had a good idea that they would be up to no good but had no way of following the truck.
That was the case until he had an enormous stroke of good fortune.
Around two hundred yards further along the road the truck pulled into a petrol station, presumably to fill up with fuel. Sandy quickened his pace arriving at the filling station just as the older driver was paying the attendant. Sandy pretended to browse the various cans of oil conveniently displayed on the forecourt. He heard Big Bert say to the attendant, "I gotta get ta Tregonning mate,. I'm pretty sure of th' way but is it right up top of 'ill then left onta SnAusll (St Austell)?".
"That's it" replied the attendant. "It's clearly sign posted about four miles after you join the main road".

That was all Sandy needed to hear. After enquiring as to the best way to reach Tregonning he soon boarded the number 12 bus to St Austell which would, he was assured, drop him outside of the Railway Inn at Tregonning.

Jimmy Johnstone had spent about forty minutes lazing on the grass. He had finished his sandwiches and was thankful for the bush providing just a bit of protection from the blinding sun.
He was just starting to daydream when he heard the distinctive rumble of a truck making it's way up the hill.
There was a convenient lay-by almost exactly opposite the warehouse door and, as Jimmy suspected, the truck pulled in and the two occupants jumped down before looking around then quickly making their way over to the warehouse. Jimmy instantly recognised Big Bert and Daniel Brodie.
In a flash Brodie had the door opened.
Jimmy waited. Would the two men 'take the bait' he wondered.

Part Twenty Eight

The bait is taken - hook, line and sinker

It was coming up to two thirty in the afternoon as the bus pulled up opposite the park in Tregonning
.
As he alighted Sandy remarked to himself how pretty and typically Cornish the village looked.
This was however no time for sightseeing. Sir William had told him about the whisky storage warehouses just up the hill past the pub and his guess was that is where the truck and Daniel Brodie would be heading.

Sandy soon spotted the pub with the road curving away to the left beyond and then up a slight hill. He quickened his step but inevitably slowed just a little as the hill steepened.
Just as he rounded a slight bend he saw the truck parked in a little lay-by opposite a ramshackle building almost completely covered in bracken and ivy.

Sandy paused. What should he do now?
His instinct was to stay put, out of sight, and watch.

He wouldn't be disappointed.

Slightly further up the hill, and unseen to Sandy, Jimmy was also biding his time.

Very soon, the two villains emerged from the warehouse each carrying a case of whisky.
Jimmy smirked. They had indeed 'taken the bait'.

Jimmy had taken the opportunity, whilst in the warehouse earlier, to sample a drop of the whisky in the bottles. It certainly wasn't terrible by any means but nowhere near the standard that one would expect from a distillery with a proven record for quality. It was drinkable but rough around the edges with no real body or finish to speak of. It was rather one dimensional.

Jimmy knew that this wouldn't bother Brodie. He doubted the Irishman could tell a Macallan twenty five year old from a small batch whisky distilled illicitly somewhere deep in the Highlands.

Very soon Brodie re-appeared carrying the final case then the two men could be seen rolling each of the casks in turn out to the waiting truck.
Brodie was well used to handling barrels and in no time at all the truck was loaded.

What would happen next though? Would the two men go back for more, in which case Jimmy would feel obliged to intervene, or would they make do with what they had?

Brodie and Bert had a conversation just in front of the lorry. Jimmy couldn't catch everything that was said but could clearly hear Brodie say, "We'll come back for more tomorrow. For now though you'll need to find somewhere to store the casks. First and foremost  I need to get two of those cases packed up and off on a train. Is Wadebridge the best place to do that?"
Bert nodded. His instinct was to take more whisky but he felt that just maybe Brodie knew best on this occasion.

Jimmy stayed put.

Sandy stayed put.

The truck pulled away up the hill before reversing then gently retracing its path down into the village.

Sandy had seen enough to give him plenty of information to work on. He was in no rush to make any arrests but would bide his time. He emerged slowly out into the road at precisely the same time as Jimmy emerged from behind a largish bush.

"Jimmy lad. What on earth are you doing here?" shouted a surprised Sandy.

Jimmy, of course, explained how his little plan had worked almost to perfection with Sandy nodding in approval. He also explained about the conversation, especially with regard to the two cases.
 "Well done, well done. Top marks for ingenuity. Sir William will be very pleased with you I'm sure. Right now though how can we get back to Wadebridge pronto? I'd like to know where those two casks are being sent to?".

Almost immediately there was the unmistakable sound of a steam engine whistle in the distance. The two men, instantly realising that would be there mode of transport made a dash down the hill arriving at the station just in time to purchase two singles to Wadebridge.

It took over an hour for the train to reach its destination which meant that by the time Jimmy and Sandy arrived the Bedford lorry was, of course, nowhere to be seen but Sandy, his eyes always on the lookout for anything of interest, immediately spotted two crates of whisky wrapped and awaiting despatch at the end of the platform.

The two men strolled towards the crates. The label attached was printed extremely clearly
: To Mr T Cobley, The Neapolitan Hotel, Port Poppy.

"Well, well, well" mused Sandy, "Port Poppy Eh. So young  PC Tanner was right. I must get on the telephone to him right away".

Sandy and Jimmy decided on a celebratory cup of tea at the little coffee shop just up the road before Jimmy headed back to Tregonning to fix the new bolts and locks to the warehouses.
Sandy headed off into Wadebridge. He had a Bedford truck and a couple of casks of whisky to track down if he possibly could.


Jimmy and Sandy's train back to Wadebridge approaches Tregonning.
The whisky warehouse is a little further up the hill past the AA box

And one believed they were all peaceful and law abiding citizens in Poppyshire, seems not.

Now is that Poppy one of the gang leaders 

Part Twenty Nine

Towards the end of a busy day

First a picture of Trepol Bay :




Whilst at the Tregonning for the second time in a day Jimmy got to work fixing new bolts and locks to all of the doors and ensuring that the windows, not that there were many, were firmly shut.
He also took the opportunity to start to record and catalogue  the various whiskies and take some samples for tasting over the coming days and weeks.

Meanwhile in Wadebridge Sandy spent a good hour wandering around the town. His instincts told  him that Big Bert and the Bedford truck wouldn't be far away.
He eventually made his way to an old industrial part of the town on the road  towards Newquay.
A slightly open workshop door, hanging on gamely by its hinges, caught his attention. As he approached, Sandy could see the Bedford's nose sticking out, the vehicle being slightly too long to fit into the workshop and close the doors fully.
Easing open the door a little further it was clear that the remaining case of whisky and the two barrels were still on the back.

Sandy made his way back into town. As he passed The Penny Farthing pub he peered in through the rather grubby, nicotine stained window.
As expected there, sitting in the corner with two other men, was Big Bert, a pint was cradled snuggly in his big hands.

Sandy carried on to the local police station where he introduced himself, explained the reason for his being in Cornwall and presented all of the evidence implicating Big Bert, whose surname he still didn't know, in the incident at Tregonning.
The local Sergeant, who had for many months been trying to 'nick' Bert Richards was very grateful and agreed to Sandy's request totake on the rest of the investigation locally but to delay the actual arrest for two days.
The Sergeant also agreed to post a young PC outside of the warehouse tomorrow in case another attempt at stealing whisky was attempted.
Sandy explained that he would deal with Daniel Brodie himself. He had plans to arrest him in person "up country" .
He had a hunch that Brodie would be headed out of Conwall in the next forty eight hours and he was pretty certain he knew where he'd be heading.

That evening Jimmy joined Sandy and Doris for what would be a well earned celebratory evening meal.
It had already been pre-arranged for Sir William, Lady Annabelle and distillery chairman William Murdoch-McLeod to join them at nine for drinks.

Jimmy was becoming more and more relaxed in such exalted company but still found it very difficult to refer to the distillery owners as Bill and Annie.
Nevertheless he was enjoying himself and was all ears as Bill outlined an idea for two days time. It transpired that plans were afoot for Bill, Annie, William, Sandy, Doris and Jimmy to head off up-country by train.
Bill and Annie were making all of the arrangements and, apparently, all would be revealed tomorrow.

Jimmy went to bed very pleased with his first day's work for the distillery even if most of it mostly involved chasing criminals.

The boot was now, as far as Jimmy was concerned, very much on the other foot.

Excellent continuing developments, Martin.

Hope you're feeling much better, now. COVID-19 is doing the rounds here but the weather is excellent so keeping windows open and sitting outside in the fresh air is, very unusually for late September, still enjoyable.

Part Thirty

Bumfit!


It was just after ten in the forenoon at 'Old' Joe McDonald's farm, off the hill road between Port Poppy and Sillybury, and PC Bob 'Tanner' Peel stood beside Joe watching attentively as the farmer's son and son-in-law put the last group of sheep through the dip.  As they did so, he heard Joe saying:

"Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera, Pip
Sethera, Letherath, Hovera, Dovera, Dik   
Yanadik, Tanadik, Tetheradik, Metheradik"

And, as the final ewe left the dip... "Bumfit!"

PC Peel wrote something quickly in his notebook and turned to Joe, "How many do you make it, Joe?"

"Bumfit," replied the old farmer.

"A lot more than that, Joe," said Tanner, smiling.

"We'll make a shepherd out of you, yet," laughed Joe and took two pebbles from his pocket.  "Giggot, Giggot and Bumfit!"

Tanner pointed to the number he had written in his notebook and Joe, seeing '55', grinned and said, "Looks like they taught you well at school in Poppingham.  Come down to the house for tea and a bit of cake."

Leaving the two young men to clear up, Joe and Tanner walked down to the farmhouse accompanied by Moss, Fly and Annie, Joe's Border Collies.  Old Moss' gentle brown eyes were filled with happiness at a job well done – her two offspring were shaping up nicely.




[Yan!]


As they entered the house, Tanner removed his helmet and wished Mrs McDonald a good morning.  She ushered him to the sink where he could wash his hands and face after being at the dipping.  Joe then did likewise and joined Tanner at the large oak table where Mrs McDonald had invited him to sit and was pouring tea into pink china cups.  In the middle of the table there was a pile of freshly-baked scones, shortbread and fruit cake. 

"Get stuck in, lad," said Mrs McDonald and soon Tanner and Old Joe were enjoying a well-deserved feast. After they had drained their second cup of tea, Joe thanked Tanner for coming to officiate at the dipping then said, "One good turn deserves another.  You know how I know people that know people but I don't know them?"

Tanner nodded, smiling inwardly and thinking that Old Joe's turn of phrase was every bit as obscure as his counting.

Joe continued, "Well, I've heard tell that one of those fellows I told you about is going to have a consignment of stolen whisky delivered by train from Cornwall to the harbour.  Him and his hard men are then going to steal a boat and take the whisky away somewhere.  I thought you might like to know."

"Thank you very much, Joe," said Tanner.  "But why bring it all the way here rather than steal a boat at a harbour in Cornwall; it's not as if there's any shortage of them?"

"It's because, although the young man is a stranger, the rest of the gang are well-known throughout the county and would be rumbled immediately.  I don't know why they decided on here – I think it must be because it's a quiet harbour nowadays and served by an even quieter branch line."

"That certainly, makes sense, Joe," said Tanner.

"One last thing, lad, you'll know the stolen whisky because it will be labelled for the Neapolitan Hotel in Port Poppy."

"We don't have a Neapolitan Hotel," said Tanner, thinking he was missing something.

"We did though, before your time.  It was the Neapolitan, but was renamed the Black Swan after the War started, seeing we was at war with them Italians.  There were troops and Royal Navy chaps billeted there for a while."

"After the War, the place became increasingly run down – we all called it the Dirty Duck – until the owners sold up because the bank forced them to.  It was then bought by Poppingham Estates and done up.  His lordship gave the tenancy to young Graham Hill who renamed it The Crown after the nice hotel his uncle and aunt run in Poppingham.  Graham spent a lot of time there as a nipper and always wanted to run a hotel when he grew up."

"Thank you, Joe," said Tanner as Mrs McDonald poured him another cup of tea.  "What you have told me is very helpful.  I don't suppose you know which one of the two names you gave me earlier it will be."

"That I don't lad," said Joe, "I expect you'll find out for yourself.  But be careful – I heard his associates will be some right rough types."

After thanking Mrs McDonald, Tanner got on his bicycle and hurried back to Port Poppy police station.  As he peddled past the gate to the next farm, Tom Cobley's, Tanner thought it strange that he had not been there yet for the sheep dipping.  He pondered a moment about this – Cobley was a rum character and scab is a terrible disease in sheep.  He resolved to pay farmer Cobley a visit soon.  But, first, there was other work to be done.

Old Moss watched him cycling down the road and finished the little piece of buttered fruit scone he had given her.  She knew that he knew he wasn't meant to give treats to a working dog, but was jolly glad he did so all the same.

Part Thirty One

A final dilemma


The next morning would be Jimmy's first in the office as it  were so after a very agreeable breakfast with Sandy and Doris he headed off to the distillery where he arrived at exactly 8-30.

Sandy had a quiet day planned. The weather was lovely again and so he set aside an hour to make a few telephone calls before he would spend the late morning and afternoon  visiting the seaside town of Falmouth with his dear wife.
They were invited to Sir William's home later that  evening along with Jimmy and a several other people where the distillery owner's plans for the following day would be revealed.

The first of Sandy's calls was to PC Tanner up in Port Poppy where the two of them made plans to arrest Daniel Brodie whom he was sure would be catching a train to the village that very morning. Sandy also passed on some other useful snippets of infrmation to Tanner.
Sandy had asked the sergeant at Wadebridge police station to track Brodie and his girlfriend Alice to make sure that they indeed bought tickets and boarded a train towards Poppyshire.

Sandy's second call was, of course, to Wadebridge 'nick' where the sergeant confirmed that the young Irish couple were indeed on their way up country.
The sergeant also confirmed that Big Bert would be arrested at around noon  the following day in the Penny Farthing Pub.

Sandy's final call was to DCI Bob Baird of Poppyshire and Silliness Constabulary.

Satisfied with his hour's work Sandy met up with his wife Doris before the pair headed off to catch a train for Falmouth. The couple  had arranged to take a break in Perranwell on  the way where he'd heard tat the local pub was extremely well known for their lunch time menu.

The rest of the day for Sandy, Doris and Jimmy went without incident with all three returning to the  Cedars at around 5-30.

Two brief messages were awaiting Sandy. The first from Wadebridge police station confirming that, as expected, Big Bert had again driven to the warehouse at Tregonning but had been deterred from entering the premises by the young PC who was waiting nearby.

The other message was from DCI Baird. It read simply, "Brodie under surveillance and possible others.  All good for Tanner and tomorrow".

Sandy smiled to himself. Everything was woking out well.

Later that evening at Sir William's house just outside of St Agnes the assembled guests had enjoyed a fabulous meal along with some fine wines.
Soon it was time for the host to address the assembled guests.

"Thank you friends and  colleagues for coming here this evening. You are no doubt wondering what this is all about?  Well, first it is to welcome Jimmy Johnstone to our team at the distillery. He will be a very useful addition to the workforce so let's raise a toast to the young man".

Everyone raised there glasses and a ripple of applause echoed around the room, "In addition, I have some grand news to impart. St Agnes Distillery is taking a huge stride forward in launching it's whiskies onto various markets within the UK and abroad. As such, we have arranged  a launch event  tomorrow at The Crown Hotel in Port Poppy. Everyone here this evening is invited with the only stipulation that you must be at St Agnes railway station at 8-30 tomorrow morning. All tickets, first class of course, have been booked and accommodation and meals will be provided."

With that Bill sat down and a huge cheers erupted from the assembled guests.

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying a few drinks along with pleasant conversation. It was nearly eleven before Sandy, Doris and Jimmy arrived back at The Cedars Hotel

As they were collecting their room keys the receptionist looked up at Jimmy "Oh, sorry sir. I nearly forgot. I have a telegram for you".

Jimmy, looking more than a little surprised, took the paper but decided to open it in his room.
A few minutes later, with slightly trembling fingers he opened it to reveal the message  :
"SIX CASKS 30YO BY TRAIN. NEED YOU TO INTERCEPT AT TAUNTON. £5000. TOMORROW. 18-30. MCDOUGALL GLASGOW".

Jimmy's hear sank. He thought he was over all of this. Tommy McDougall one  the biggest gang leaders in the Gorbals was expecting Jimmy to intercept no less than five casks of whisky.
What should he do?
It would be very unwise to mess with Tommy McD and five thousand pounds was an awful lot of money. 

Jimmy decided to sleep on it.......

And now a photograph of the Perranwell Arms where Doris and Sandy hopefully enjoyed a pleasant luncheon in their way to Falmouth earlier in the day

Everyone will be pleased to know that the next episode, which will be fairly long, will be the penultimate one.

The final episode will be quite short.

Quote from: port perran on September 28, 2023, 03:16:29 PMEveryone will be pleased to know that the next episode, which will be fairly long, will be the penultimate one.

The final episode will be quite short.

I certainly won't 

Been really enjoyable read 


Ed

I am with @Ed . It is an interesting story which could go on for ...... ages as far as I am concerned. 

Agreed with Ed and David. Love the photos too

Thank you for your kind comments everyone but the end is nearly here.
The penultimate episode follows but first a fine pictureingham of a D11/12 4-4-0 conveying, in Pullman accommodation of course, guests to Port Poppy and an evening of celebration.


Part Thirty Two

Jimmy makes his decision but will it lead to an evening of celebration?

Jimmy awoke very early next morning after a fitful night's sleep.

The previous evening's telegram had certainly 'put the cat amongst the pigeons'  but his mind was now firmly made up. Maybe the beer, wine and whisky from the previous evening had caused him to waver but this morning Jimmy could breathe a sigh of relief.
He would tell Sandy about the telegram at breakfast.

Sandy, Doris and Jimmy had arranged to have breakfast very early as they were, of course, due to be at St Agnes railway station at eight thirty.
After exchanging the usual pleasantries Jimmy was straight out with his news. He could wait no longer to get it off his chest.
"Don't you worry my boy", said Sandy "We've been tracking Tommy McDougall for several days. That whisky is from the Balvenie distillery and is on its way, legitimately, to Plymouth but intelligence warned us of a suspected incident at Taunton. We have men aboard the train but we weren't aware that McDougall would try to get you involved.  As for McDougall himself,  don't you worry about him at all. I expect him to spend a good few years behind bars before much longer.
All is in hand but thank you for sharing this with me Jimmy. It's all very useful evidence and a credit to your hinesty.

Jimmy was immensely  relieved. He could now enjoy the day with a completely clear conscience.


After a somewhat hurried breakfast the trio made their way, with overnight bags, to the station where they were amongst the last to arrive.

Already there were Bill and Annie Rundle, William Murdoch McLean with his wife Rosemary, Tom Biggins, Ross McLeary  plus two people Jimmy didn't recognise but later found out were Lord and Lady Trevelver, great friends of Sir William and Annie.
Several employees from the distillery had also been chosen to travel making the final total some twenty people.

Sir William called everyone together to announce the plans for the day,
"So everyone, our train will be here at 8-30. We'll be in the front carriage which has been specially reserved for us. We change  at Wadebridge where we will board the 9-45 service to Exeter St David's. Again, we'll be in the leading, first class carriage with a buffet car next to us. You are free to help yourself to whatever you want to eat  but please  don't over indulge as we have a five course meal for your enjoyment beyond Exeter.
We'll be catching the 11-30 service from Exeter to Birmingham Snow Hill, this time in coach three which will be first class dining.  From Birmingham we will travel forward, again first class of course, towards Tableford where we will change to a local service for Bobbington. There we will be met by my great friend Lord Pandaford who will escort us on the local preserved railway,in a Pullman car no less, to Port Poppy railway station. From there it's just a short stroll to the Crown Hotel where our evening of celebrations will be taking place".

Sir William barely had time to finish his introduction before a rather scruffy ex Great Western prairie tank arrived with its three coach train bound for Wadebridge.
Everyone clambered excitedly into the first carriage.

For those interested in such things, the onward journey was handled by a Bullied Light pacific to Exeter St David's, a Castle 4-6-0 as far as Bristol then a Hall on to Birmingham followed by a Black Five to Tableford . It was then a rather scruffy and smelly Diesel Multiple Unit on  to Bobbington. Happily, Lord Pandaford, whom many of us know better as Bertie Poppingham, had arranged for a gleaming D11/12 4-4-0 number 6397 – The lady of the Lake  to complete the journey on the Poppyshire & Sillyshire Railway to Port Poppy.

And so it was that a very tired but happy band of travellers arrived at the pretty little railway station in the delightful harbour town of Port Poppy from where they made their way along the  street to The Crown Hotel to be met they by the landlord  Graham Hill.

It had been a long day but everyone had around ninety minutes to settle into their rooms, refresh and get ready for the evening which began at 7-30 with yet another announcement from the owner of The St Agnes Distillery, Sir William Rundle.
"Welcome, welcome everyone on behalf of me, Sir William Rundle and my wife Lady Annabelle.  I think you probably all know me but in case you don't I'll start by insisting that we are Bill and Annie, none of that stuffy Lord and Lady formality.
Now, the reason for being here is to celebrate what is effectively a re-launch  of our very special whisky products to a much wider market and to welcome our new Whisky Ambassador, Jimmy Johnstone".

There was a polite ripple of applause.

"First though, I want to introduce DCI Ian Laird of the Poppyshire and Sillyshire Constabulary along with a young PC from Port Poppy, Bob Peel whom I'm told is  better known around these parts as Tanner. We also have Sarjeant Dixon here who simply goes by the name of Sarge. DCI Laird has some very important information that he'd like to share with us".

The DCI stood up and started by thanking Sir William for inviting him, and the other officers, along then continued "I hope I don't embarrass young Jimmy Johnstone here too much but you probably all know about his upbringing in The Gorbals, Glasgow and his life of petty crime and involvement in what I can only term whisky rustling. Well, it is  thanks to my big friend Sandy Murdoch, who is of course here with us this evening, that Jimmy has seen sense and turned his back on all of that. I'll leave Bill here to fill you in on all of the details of his job in Cornwall but I'm here to give an update on a series of arrests made by police both here and in Cornwall earlier today. I'll get straight to the point. At mid-day officers from Wadebridge in Cornwall arrested a notorious small time crook known locally as Big Bert. At much the same time, Bob Peel and Sarge here, together with a group of  plain clothed officers, followed  Daniel Brodie who alighted from a train at Silliness Station earlier today. He was followed to a little cove just round the corner  from the harbour where he met up with Tommy McDougal and two of his mates who have long been wanted by Glasgow police in connection with stealing whisky. Brodie had collected two cases of whisky from The St Agnes distillery which had been forwarded here by train.
It's a real feather in the cap for the local force so I'd like to raise a toast to PC Peel  and Serjeant  Dixon and also to Old Farmer McDonald for the tip off that led to the arrests".

DCI Laird sat down to a huge round of applause before Sir William addressed everyone once again, "Thank's Ian. It's all worked out so well and I'm sure that thanks to the police and, of course, Jimmy Johnstone, the whisky industry can feel much safer. Now it's on to the enjoyable part of the evening. We have a wonderful meal lined up for you and you'll each have two presentation boxes of miniature whiskies in front of you. They are yours to take away with you and contain some very old and, in a couple of instances extremely valuable samples. I want you each to keep one sample as a possible investment but to drink and enjoy the other one.  Finally, I just want to wish you all well for the future and hope the distillery can move forward as a world leader. Enjoy your food"

It was much, much later, well gone midnight, when the party broke up.

As Jimmy climbed wearily into bed he could vaguely remember agreeing to a fishing trip next morning with Sir William, Sandy, Sarjeant Dixon, Mr Laird, Graham Hill and a couple of others but soon he was sound asleep.

He'd never been fishing before in his life.

He fell asleep dreaming of his beloved Celtic Football Club winning The European Cup!