"Eh bien, Monsieur le Directeur!" said Poirot. "Since you have called me in to investigate this mystery des chevaux Troyens, we must use our little grey cells. You say that this device has also been found in Sainsbury's College? Alors, you are looking at this mystery the wrong way round. We must interrogate all those who were in Sainsbury's during its 'Unattended Selling' period. But first, a Sirop from the Vendepac, if you would be so kind..."
"Philip Marlowe?" said the dame on the phone. "Come to the User
Area Night Club as soon as you can. We've got this problem with
Trojan horses."
The man lying on the floor was definitely dead, but it was the
dame standing over him who caught my eye. She had curves in all
the right places, as well as some of the wrong ones, but this
didn't stop me from noticing the micro-chip in her hand, in time
to push her to one side as the device exploded in a sheet of
flame...
"Bunter! A cup of the '86 Cola for Inspector Parker," exclaimed
Lord Peter Wimsey, laying aside a First Edition of the MVS/XA
manual (in the original Greek) that he had been perusing.
"No, thank you, Peter," said Parker hastily. "I never drink on
duty: it damages the terminals (& my stomach). What do you make
of this?"
Wimsey took the proffered chip cautiously, and scrutinised it
through his monocle. "There appears to be a Greek inscription on
it," he commented. "A quotation from Homer to do with fish, if I
am not mistaken. But one that only appears in certain editions of
the Iliad..."
"I perceive by the mark on your tie that you have been using TeX
recently," said Holmes. "Also your pet goldfish has been ill this
week."
"Enough of that nonsense!" said our client testily, interrupting
my cry of "Amazing, Holmes!" "I want you to come down to
Cambridge Moor to investigate a problem connected with the legend
of the phantom Horse of the Terminilles."
"Come, Watson!" said Holmes. "The game is afoot! You may tell me
about the problem in the train, your Grace." He hastily took down
a battered copy of Bradshaw, then fired his revolver into a
picture of Queen Victoria on the wall (this being his usual way
of summoning Mrs Hudson)...
Jonathan R. Partington, 1987