Who was Tony? Was he Toto Constant, who had struck me as the archetype Bob Hare psychopath, charming and dangerous, conforming to the checklist with an uncanny, eerie precision? Was he Al Dunlap, who had, I felt in retrospect, been a bit shoehorned by me into the checklist, even if he had himself laid claim to many of the items, seeing them as manifestations of the American Dream, the entrepreneurial spirit? Was he David Shayler, his insanity palpable but harmless to other people, reduced to a plaything for the benefit of the madness industry? Or was he Rebecca Riley or Colin Stagg, wrongly
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Food for thought.
