I always thought anagrams, like jigsaws, were for people who had never discovered laziness. Why would I waste precious loafing hours trying to fix something that was deliberately broken to keep you people and your overactive lobes happy?
This particular anagram, ‘Jackal dines,' was perplexing in the extreme. I didn't want to get into it but once again LaFlamme had skilfully manipulated my free will. Now I was compelled to consume large quantities of bourbon and decipher my client's cryptic note.
Thoughts of ravenous jackals raced through my fevered mind. I say ‘raced' but ‘wandered pointlessly' would be more apt. These jackals were in no hurry. The only thing that ever raced through my mind was bewilderment.
Suddenly LaFlamme stirred. "I hate to say this but... Jack Daniels," she declared.
"No, no more for me thanks."
"No, Dumbo, Jack Daniels is the answer!" I thought for a moment she was about to burst into song. And I wasn't sure I liked her tone.
"It's MISTER Dumbo if you don't mind," I corrected her.
"You can be Emperor Dumbo if you like," she replied. "Don't you see? It's been staring us in the face. Literally."
She hovered the JD bottle before me, as if practising hypnosis, and slowly it began to sink in. But LaFlamme needed no practise. I'd been hypnotised for years.