In which Tony and The Admiral continue Project X, their quest for an effective hangover cure, with dedicated input from Suave Gav.

Suave Gav was punctual, early even, and carried a heavy briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. He strode confidently around the room as introductions were made. “It’s quite alright,” he said. “I haven’t been followed.” Without delay he unlocked the cuffs, discarded his jacket and opened the case, unpacking an apron, funnel, several small jars with cloth coverings, test tubes, various twigs and roots, a syringe and finally a sheaf of papers bound together by elastic bands. He was certainly taking this evening seriously. By contrast, The Admiral produced his notepad of equations and a ceramic jug with a cork in the top. He seemed a little over-awed by Suave Gav’s intensity. I could see a little self-doubt flicker across his face.

Gavin was generous with his knowledge, at least for one whose knowledge arrived handcuffed to him. At length he outlined the extent of his research, pinning diagrams to the wall and highlighting with a laser pen. It was the nearest thing to a lecture I would ever witness. He explained the struggle he’d had in trying to produce an elixir from the branches of the Turpitude plant and made it sound as if it had been his life’s work. It had only been a week. Clearly he’d given up his day job or abandoned the whole idea of sleep in order to focus. He was committed. And if he wasn’t, he should be.