Lord Larry and the disappearing Great Dane...............

In the football free long days of the close season I like to amuse myself by either watching or reading a good crime thriller.  Come to think of it the twists and turns, intrigue and double dealing that surrounds your average football club during the summer break is not too different from a good crime novel. Instead of a whodunnit it's more who'scoming or who'sgoing.  If you can sift through all the clues that appear in the various forms of media speculating on who is talking to who you're a better man than me.  So it got me thinking about our beloved Leeds United.  As ever we have been linked with numerous players who are said to be about to sign on the dotted line at Elland Road and all it takes to start a rumour nowadays is an outrageous tweet or comment on facebook.  @PaulScholes spotted in McDonalds on Elland Road  or "My Auntie's cousin's nephew who works with Robbie Keane's next door neighbour swears he's about to sign for Leeds Utd" So with the transfer merry go round starting to pick up speed this week I wondered what it would be like if the fictional detective Hercule Poirot investigated just what is going on at Leeds United as they try to strengthen their squad for the coming Championship season..........................

Leeds station was busy with evening commuters hurrying home as the unmistakable figure of Hercule Poirot stepped from his train and onto the platform.  Very few gave him a second glance as they concentrated on their favourite playlist or sifted through the best of the days chat from cyberspace on their mobile phones.  Poirot was not amused.  He had dropped everything to come to Leeds after receiving an urgent request for help from his old friend MOTforever.  As we waited for a taxi he once again read the E Mail he had received the previous evening.  


"Dear Hercule, 
I need your help.  Could you use your remarkable detective powers and try and find out what is going on at the Leeds United family home, The Theatre of Hope.  Many members of our extended family are worried there are dastardly deeds afoot and the much needed recruitment of quality staff is being sabotaged.  I have arranged for you to be invited to this weekend's house party in order that you uncover the true plan for the up and coming shooting season that starts on the glorious 6th Aug.  Good Luck Mon Amis, 
MOTforever.


The taxi sped towards the Theatre of Hope.  Hercule passed the time of day with the driver.  "What time did you start?" he enquired  "oh I 've just started my shift.  You going sort Capt Birdseye out then?" the blunt taxi driver asked as he weaved in and out of the traffic like a demented maniac.  "Why what's he done?" the famous detective replied straining to understand the driver's accent that was a strange mix of  broad Yorkshire & Pakistani.  "What's he done? It's more like what he's not done.  He's not stuck his hand in his pocket and given Lord Larry some cash to splash.  Looks like all we're going to get is every body else's cast offs again" he blurted out as he rounded the final roundabout on two wheels.  The famous Belgian detective was thankful to arrive at The Theatre of Hope in one piece as he paid his fare.  "So if my racing car driver taximan is to be believed Capt Birdseye is not spending much of the considerable income on players!.......Mmmm what is he spending it on?" Poirot pondered as he gingerly picked his way past the ambitious renovation works on the East Wing as he made his way to the entrance of the famous old family home.  


He rang the door bell.  The chimes of Marching on Together wafted into the West Yorkshire evening sky.  He was met in the hall by the host for the evening, Lord Larry.  "So glad you could come Monsieur Poirot, it's a long time since we've had a detective here at the Theatre of Hope" the amiable Lord Larry replied.  Poirot's little grey cells burst into life.  This was an ideal lead in for a certain line of questioning he was keen to pursue.  "Ahh that reminds me..............tell me what you know about Mr Bowyer and Mr Woodgate.  Surely Mr Woodgate's skill is not in question but his poor body has suffered the ravages of too many battles to be of any use to you this season?  Now Mr Bowyer is a different kettle of fish.  He has still got.......how do you say...........petrol left in his tank n'est pas?  But how can you afford them my Lord when you appear to be living off scraps?"  
Lord Larry was taken aback.  Why does the famous Belgian detective think he is being forced to live off scraps? he asked.  "Ah mon ami that is simple you have just sold a Danish international goalie to one of your biggest promotion rivals and replaced him with an unknown No 2 goalie from Blackpool.  Even to a Belgian who knows nothing about Football that seems a tad strange"  "That is because you are ill informed I'm afraid.  Mr Rachubka is well known, he's even played for Royal Antwerp, and made 108 appearances for Blackpool in the championship.  Paul is a good experienced player who will bring challenge to the squad"  Lord Larry replied.  Poirot shuffled away unimpressed.


Poirot's was deep in thought.  Leeds United appear to be a successful family.  They have one of the biggest families in the country who all give up lot's of their hard earned cash to support the family and yet they don't have the money to keep some of their better staff.  Only today Mr Kilkenny has upped sticks and left for a much smaller family house in Bristol.  Hercule smelled a rat.  Something was also puzzling him about the family's Great Dane.  Just why had he left?  First Lord Larry said that they had tried to keep him by offering him an extended contract but when that fell through they sold him.  But when the Great Dane then said he had been forced to leave against his will Lord Larry  changed his story and said that the reason he had left was because he wanted to improve the back five, after all they had let 70 goals in last year.  But Poirot was not happy...........why offer a player an extended contract and then weeks later decide he's not good enough?.............Maybe the £1.5m fee Larry received was too good to turn down?  Maybe Capt Birdseye couldn't resist a good deal?


Poirot's ponderings were rudely disturbed by the unmistakable figure of Capt Birdseye marching towards him. "Eh Parrot what are you snooping about for?" the eloquent owner of the Theatre of Hope enquired.  "Ahh Mr Birdseye I have heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to meet you" the pristine Belgian lied.  "Don't give me all that nonsense" the grumpy owner snorted "what is it you want?".  The Belgian ignored the owner's intimidating tone "One of your most loyal and faithful members of your extended family has asked me to try and find out what is happening with the recruitment of new staff for the new shooting season.  He is excited at the prospect of competing for promotion again but worried we might not actually have any money to buy staff in and rely on hand me downs from other families.  What do you say mon ami?"


"Get stuffed Parrot" Monaco's most abrasive resident grunted and stormed off to write his next set of programme notes. Poirot headed for the door and felt a chill run deep through his bones.  Was it an ill wind blowing through the Theatre of Hope or maybe the ghost of The Don shuffling uncomfortably through his former stomping ground? Poirot shrugged it off and jumped in the same demented driver's taxi.  "Did you sort Capt Birdseye out then?" Mr Singh asked.  "My friend I am not usually beaten but even the great Hercule Poirot cannot figure what is going on at the famous Theatre of Hope".  Such a sad state of affairs.  I am not looking forward to reporting back to MOTforever he thought as the taxi hurtled back to the station.


MOT