H tells me not to take Rocco to Battersea Park. He recently shared a taxi with our friend the Sexy Spook, and she told him of how two burly Russians with rottweilers followed her in the park where she was walking her dog, and how the Russkis deliberately unleashed their hounds. The rottweilers had a tug of war with her beloved mutt, leaving him with all his insides spilling out. He was in the vet’s for six months and later died. ‘Well, they clearly knew who she was,’ I say to H. ‘Yes,’ he replies, ‘and I expect we are meant to believe it was all coincidence. In fact, there are more Russian
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