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Still, I was buzzin’ – the chase, the danger, it’s pure mojo fuel! Found another lass round the corner, real dolly bird, and she’s laughin’ at my threads – “Nice velvet, mate!” I’m grinnin’, ‘cos she’s a gas. Little factoid: some prossies back then used code words like “fancy a cuppa?” to dodge the fuzz. Clever, eh? We hit it off, and I’m feelin’ like, “Yeah, baby, this is the ticket!”

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After that little heart attack, I headed over to the Highworth Cemetery. Yeah, I know, sounds morbid, but hear me out. There’s this ancient yew tree there, and it’s got stories to tell. I was just about to start my inspection when I spotted this old bloke, Mr. Jenkins, who’s like the unofficial historian of Highworth. He’s always got a tale or two about the town.

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