To understand the significance of this you need to know that not much worried Humbert. He wasn't a worrier.
He just did. And did it well.
Humbert had just taken a call from The Curmudgeon in New Zealand. The Curmudgeon had told him that Richard (of RBB) had just called him on his cell-phone asking for him - Humbert.
The Curmudgeon had correctly surmised that Richard was being indiscreet and not in the way of his indiscretions of the 1970's - those could be explained away as the frantic manipulations of a frustrated youth - no, Richard was being indiscreet. And dangerous.
Humbert recalled that when he'd been in Petone recently to warn Richard of a possible incursion by Robert at the Prowse Brothers concert, that he'd borrowed The Curmudgeon's phone (Tracey the pregnant barmaid had taken his). He didn't expect that a guy as old as Richard would be able to master the call history features on his cell-phone. Hell, he didn't expect that a dinosaur like Richard would have anything other than the most basic of 'shoephones'
Hope for the best but plan for the worst was his mantra but he'd let this one slip past him.
This needed to be sorted out.
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Robert, nestling an Infrared Laser Digital Thermometer Gun discretely in the upper inner pocket of the silk lined long coat, approached with his grey imitation cow hat slanted down slightly at the front.
But what Robert hadn't counted on was the delegation of visiting American Law Enforcement Officers.
Catching sight of Robert, the leader of the delegation pulled out his Sig-Sauer automatic and pumped 18 hollow nosed bullets through his slik lined long coat, riddling his body. Several stray shots ruined his imitation cow hat as well but that went unnoticed after the rest of the delegation descendeed on his still twitching body and kicked and punched him to unrecognisability.
"Sorry" was the official response from the delegation and endorsed by the Prime Minister's office.
"They thought he was a black guy" said John Key, "It's a reasonable mistake as he lives in Moeraa".
Moera
Richard was not pleased.
With Robert gone the original manuscript for Drap O Scotch was up for grabs and he was stuck in Nuova Lazio. Stuck there with just jazz to play. Someone would pay for this. He would ring The Curmudgeon again and demand an explanation. But first he would take the skeleton.
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