The Son of the Holy Man
William Browning is jokingly referred to as Willy 'the pistol' or 'Pistols at dawn' not so much for his surname as for his alleged sexual prowess.
He and I are close friends and would have been much closer had not been for the recent lockdown due to the current pandemic.
We both have tested negative more than once so there is no reason why a romantic situation should not have developed.
It could be that we have been so busy of late that our thoughts have been on other matters.
He is a boffin in the Secret Service though I don't actually know what his role is. He keeps his ears to the ground and knows what goes on inside the corridors of power.
He is under the direct command of Hilary Moneypound, who is the acting Chief of the Secret Intelligence and who's hoping to be appointed to that position very shortly after the farewell ceremony for the current incumbent.
Through him, I heard that the SIS had got involved in trying to discover if the dead body of a male found on Avon Beach had any security implication, given the
indirect connection with my late father, who had been a military man.
He called me early one morning.
“I have interesting news”, he said and related what he had found out.
“It is only the beginning but we hope to unravel that mystery soon”, he stated.
I was so excited to have been given the latest information that I couldn't wait to share the news with Uncle Jeremy.
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The phone rang just as I was about to have my morning zabaglione.
“At this hour”, I said to myself, “it can only be that pesky Jessica.”
“I hope I am not spoiling your colazione, uncle, but I thought you are as anxious as me to be kept abreast of progress regarding the deceased Somali. It has been ascertained that he drowned but there is no evidence of foul play. My friendly spook, William, tells me that a Chargé d'affaires was sent to Mogadishu to find out, very discreetly, any relevant news about this stranger who had landed on our shore and, unbelievably, he came up trump.”
It took me a little time to digest what she was telling me until I realised its
It transpires that in a country where the majority of people are Muslim, there existed in a remote region, a religious community founded more than twenty years ago by a holy man, who had appeared from nowhere, to look after and educate orphans.
Jessica was emphatic that, since my brother Justin - her father – had expressed the intention of becoming a missionary, this 'holy man' could only be him.
“ What is intriguing”, she enthused, “is that, according to an old woman of the village, he had a son of about eighteen years of age who has been reported missing.”
“Gosh!”, she exclaimed, “ do you think he could be my brother?”
© Luigi Pagano 2020
See also previous episode https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/stranger-our-shores