Tuesday, September 07, 2004

One of those "so what do you say to THAT?" mails

Yesterday I managed to write one of those and-the-murderer-is mails, a trail of deduction so brilliant that all who received it must have pondered my genius with a breathless, awestruck intake of breath. After such a well-deserved discovery (six hours of log file analysis is not my idea of fun) it came as rather a disappointment to find in my inbox not mails complimenting my leaps of imagination and dogged following of the clues, but instead a mail along the lines "oh yeah, you're right, it really was the firewall, bugger-all chance of finding out what went wrong though, never mind eh?" I feel like the detective in the denouement of a whodunnit who, havingly thrillingly revealed the killer to be none other than Sir Peter Kill-Lightly, is told by uniform that, damn, Sir Kill-Lightly just left for a holiday in a country with no extradition treaty.

A second interviewee today. This one seemed quite good. Want him back for a second interview, but no idea who is going to interview him.

It is a cool night, the breeze is gentle, the flat is clean, the music chilled and the candle light is flickering. Sigh.


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