Dear Frank Starbuck
my name is Mick Evans. I work at the Newcastle Fisherman's co-op.
I have hacked into Anthony Lawrence's computer while he is down
on the docks unloading Stockton Bight prawns with Hang (Hank) Lee
the Vietnamese trawlerman. I see that you have a long correspondence
with this Lawrence. I also note that you have been composing a book
called The Waggafish letters. I know Robert Adamson. I used to work
at the Mooney Worker's Club. I have watched him over the years,
walking around town and down by the water, dreaming up his poetry
and conspiring to turn water into ink. Adamson has a secret that
he has only revealed to three people: Terry Hack, Moose, and Bill Wisely.
I belted the secret out of Wisely one night at the Angler's Rest
after he went out the back after closing to take a piss. It is this:
Waggafish, when gutted, contain tiny red mirrors that distort
any reflection into the fractured face of the Red K. So, here's the deal.
I note from a recent letter to Lawrence that you have kidnapped Adamson.
I'm willing to help. I have devised a contraption that catches Waggas
without threat of serious harm. I won't reveal more until we meet.
I wish to discuss collecting these red mirrors and selling them
at literary festivals. My plan is vile and brilliant. It will bring this man to his knees.
In our service, he will be a puppet and will seek out Adamson and Lawrence
and hex them into obscurity. Are you in?