Chapter 57 In which Staedtler is given a tip about the Queer Affair in Fishhole

John Staedtler grabbed the phone on his desk before it had chance to ring twice and barked his name into the mouthpiece by way of a greeting.
"French, here," came the voice at the other end. "Your private dick - remember?"
"Oh, hello," said Staedtler. "What do you want?"
"Oh, just following up the case, and wondering why you didn't tell me you'd received more postcards from the Piddlebackside blogger. What's the story John?"
"Er ... it slipped my mind?"
"Not very convincing John. I warned you that you might get in above your head. Having second thoughts about getting into this business?"
"No just sitting on the postcards for the moment. Ball's in my court, and all that. Considering my options."
"I see. So have you had any calls yet? Anyone phoning you to find out what the clue was on that sixth card?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, you might get some soon. Or emails. Readers will want to know what was on it. To them the goings-on in Piddlebackside are more important than what's happening here on the Cote De Westphalia."
"Don't be ridiculous! People phoning me up for information about a fictitious place? You're having a laugh."
"Am I? Twenty-five thousand hits? Readers in Canada and on the west coast of America? And in Australia and Europe? Piddlebackside has become something of a phenomenon. I wouldn't bet against the odd phone call or two - especially when people read this."
"What do you mean, when people read this?"
"Haven't you even figured that out, John? We're all involved. We're part of Piddlebackside. People are reading this is in real time - have you seen the film The Truman Show?" Staedtler nodded. "Well, it's a bit like that."
"No ... no," Staedler said, shaking his head as thoughts raced through it. "You might be in it, but I'm not. I'm just a regular journo in Westphalia-on-Sea, doing my job."
"John, John," said French, with mock reassurance. Staedtler knew from his tone that a sting in the tail was coming. "You went after the author, you printed postcards in your column. You're in deeper than me, deeper than lots of people."
"So what shall I do now?"
"Like I said before John, it's your call. But wouldn't you just like to get a few more postcards? See where the clues begin to point? A couple of pictures and few lines - it won't take more than half a column, maybe less."
"I'll think about it."
"I think it would be wise - in my 'umble opinion. Now what about this queer business over in Fishhole?"
"Queer business? I don't know what you're talking about."
"The Fast-cat ferry. Doesn't it smell fishy to you?"
"No ... a whiff of diesel maybe. Are you thinking of the trawlers?"
"I mean fishy as in suspicious."
"How do you mean? I don't know of any strange goings-on. I read that the launch went well - just a small hitch while they had to wait for one of the existing ferries to go out of business."
"Don't you mean get out of the way?"
"Yes, yes, of course I do. Freudian slip. Anyway, I think our official line is 'competition is healthy'."
"Even if it puts locals out of business?"
"Well, look, I can't really comment." Staedtler looked towards the door which was about ten centimetres ajar -he did not want to be overheard.
"OK, point taken," said French. "Well this guy who's running the show - maybe you should check him out - I can't repeat it all here, I'll email you a link. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/612409.stm It's kosha - from the BBC, no less. OK, got to go."
"OK ... bye," said Staedtler, replacing the reciever slowly. There's more to this Piddlebackside stuff than meets the eye, he thought to himself.