Leaving me to carry on where he left off and perhaps even prove myself to be the greatest private eye that ever there was.
And as Laz was retiring, and as I had already bought the franchise and everything, I moved into his office and put a new sign up on the door—
SOME CALL ME TYLER PSYCHIC DETECTIVE
I haven’t had any cases yet, but hey, it’s only been a week and I have had other things to do. Like visit the hospital, for instance, after I discovered that Laz had amusingly sewn my left ear back on upside down.
And then there was last night’s reunion, which I mentioned in the first chapter of this book. In truth it was a bit more than just a reunion - it was my stag night.
Because I’m getting married today. To the golden girlie from Begrem (where we will be spending our honeymoon).
I’m rather excited about getting married. I’m particularly excited about the prospect of finally having sex. Even though I’m approaching my seventieth birthday. I reckon I’m still up for it.
Regarding Begrem, I have decided not to open it up to the tourist trade, nor to avail myself of the riches therein. It felt rather wrong, somehow, and as there have been sufficient wrongs done, I don’t want to add any more of my own.
And, of course, there was the matter of the head of the CIA going missing. And where he might have ended up. Or down. Questions were asked, but answers weren’t furnished and that one remains open on the files.
And regarding all those walking-dead folk. What became of them? Well, they’ll all die again in their own good time and their souls will go off to wherever they should go.
Which, I suppose, means that this is the end of my tale.
Which seems a bit of a shame, really, but you have to end it somewhere. And I, like Laz, am going out on a high. But it is certainly not over for me. In fact, my career as Some Call Me Tyler, Psychic Detective is only just beginning.
And if there is any justice in this world, you will soon be reading my exciting adventures and how I solve the most obtuse conundrums and thwart the diabolical plans of criminal masterminds using my extra-special power and the Tyler Technique.
And so, let me leave you with the words of . . . the George:
It’s turned out nice again.
1
This term was originally coined by a reporter from the Daily Mirror who toured with the band during the 1970s, when eating disorders first became fashionable. And the Kynges were at the forefront of this trend.
2
The technique for adapting the beer-bottle top to badge-wear is now lost in the Mists of Time. Those who remember it, remember it, and these few souls remain cool.
3
And they would.
4
You see? The George Formby anagram, Orgy of Begrem.
5
I don’t think this is altogether true, is it? (Ed.)
6
Sequined all over. His mum had made it for him.
7
Which had arrived through our letter box by mistake, it being meant for Captain Blood, the retired freebooter who lived next door.
8
So, some things never change.
9
Traditional.
10
This, it is to be believed, was the first time this joke was ever used.
11
And this was never used.
12
And they do.
13
As opposed to one that is only occasional.
14
Positively the last time.
15
This is not entirely true. In fact, it is not true at all.
16
The organist was Richie Havens. (Ed.)
17
Should the reader yearn to know the full story of Courage Croydon, the best reference book would be Sir John Rimmer’s Croydon’s Croydon: The Man, the Myth and the Sacred Geomancy of the Roundabout system.
18
Third wedding Anniversaries are ‘cheese’. And are not easy to get anniversary cards for. As opposed to those silver, gold and diamond. But strange, at times, are the ways of Man.
19
Still reckoned to be the most comfortable recliner of all time.
20
Which rather impressed me at the time because dogging had yet to become an English national pastime.
21
That’s probably enough Cons, now, thank you. (Ed.)†
† Hey, buddy, don’t footnote Woodbine - I ain’t a footnoted kind of guy.
22
Allegedly. But hey, come on!
23
Elvis was in fact a natural blond, although not a lot of people know that.
24
Everything makes sense when you give it sufficient thought. Doesn’t it?
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Robert Rankin, Necrophenia
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