No. 535: The winners Trevor Grove reports: Competitors were in-

vited to compose an extract from the plot of a new political thriller set against the background of a Commonwealth Conference in London. Evidently disappointed by the negligible re- sults achieved at the latest of these colourful jamborees, there seemed to be a coinmon in- clination to set the scene of the next one in the mid-'sventies or even 'eighties. But, ironic- ally, the agendas remained very much the same, with Biafrans still in their death-throes, Kenyan Asians in the airports and, in Rhodesia, Smitty still in the saddle. Plots were various and nefari- ous with the said Asians being transported en masse to Tristan da Cunha. Harold Wilson dis- guising himself as President Obote, poisoned fly-whisks flailing, bombs dropping and Lord Chalfont heading the Secret Service. First prize of four guineas to Peter Peterson :

`Don't worry, darling. It happens to everyone sometimes.'

'Not to me. Not with you.'

She watched him from under hooded lids, as he stumbled disconsolately into his trousers, and slipped out of the room, with his tail between his legs. Then she reached for the telephone, lifted the receiver, and dialled.

`No dice,' she said.

`Good!' The answering voice was toneless. `But he was all right with Bella on Tuesday.' `Naturally! One of her grandmothers was a Zulu.' • Cautiously, she replaced the receiver.

At Marlborough House, the President of Imbebwe turned to his colleagues, radiant.

`It works, gentlemen,' he said. 'Differential impotence! With a white woman he fails every time. In a generation White Rhodesia, White South Africa, shall be no more than evil dreams. And after that—the world !'

. . . Meanwhile, at Porton, an ashen-faced young laboratory assistant was knocking at Pro- fessor Moriarty's door....

Four guineas to E. 0. Parrott, with a nice line in social realism : Hubbard turned up the greasy collar of his shabby raincoat and glanced apprehensively up and down the Mall.

'The plot, Prime Minister, amounts to this. They plan to blow up Buckingham Palace, abduct the Royal corgis, drop simultaneous H-bombs on Ottawa, Canberra, New Delhi, Wellington and a number of other key-points, and then proclaim de Gaulle head of the Com- monwealth.'

The African's dark features had blenched momentarily under the pale lamplight as he ab- sorbed the details. Hubbard nodded imper- ceptibly. 'I might have been able to photo-copy the rest of the plan, but I had to rendezvous at our Slough effice. A query over my bus fares.'

'This is dynamite. They must be stopped.'

'I agree. Trying to do me out of one-and- nine . .

The African attempted to intervene, but Hub- bard silenced him.

'One other bit I noticed. They also plan to assassinate Wilson, Barbara Castle . .

The African looked startled. 'Is it a private plot or can anyone join in?'

And three guineas for an excellent pastiche of Douglas Hurd and Andrew Osmond to . . . Douglas Hurd. Welcome to the show!

In the comfortable suite where the Africans met the fairhaired woman asked a final question: 'Can you make absolutely sure of an evening session?'

'Nothing easier. He will talk for ever about his World Security Conference. And the Biafrans outside will make sure the wires stay cut.'

At No. 10 the youngest private secretary answered the telephone.

'No, he's at Marlborough House .. can't be interrupted . . . and the Chiefs of Staff.' His voice trailed.

'That was C-in-C Scotland—the Chairman of the Highland Development Board is marching down Princes Street with ten thousand clansmen

—riots everywhere—and something about a broadcast at nine.'

A quick movement of the switch, and a familiar voice rasped into the room.

'And so with deep humility ... first President of the Scottish Republic.'

'It all fits. We should have guessed.'

'Guessed what?'

'That all the time Willie Ross was a Nation- alist agent.'

Finally, two guineas to the man with the deadly fly-whisk, John Ball ('Trudot shook his head and lacquer dripped from his scanty bachelor locks onto the shoulders of his suede trenchcoatt), and honourable mentions to Michael West and A. J. McPherson.