Free The View from Mount Dog by James Hamilton-Paterson

lunchtime and suppertime a great change had come over her life, and she was in no way responsible. She now brought her middle-aged athlete husband the telephone in his bath.
    ‘Carney?’
    ‘Er, who’s that?’ he asked cautiously.
    ‘This is Bob Struthers, Carney. Listen, you bastard, you’re up to something, aren’t you?’
    ‘Yes,’ Carney told him.
    ‘Well, I want in on the story. I gave you time the other day and I think you owe me a bit in return. I was covering the International in Antwerp but I got back a couple of hours ago and heard all about it and, listen, I’ve seen the clips and I think I can work up a theory about how you did it. So we’ve got to meet.’
    ‘Of course, Bob. Delighted. I could come round tomorrow some time to your studio place. Sort of lunch-ish?’
    ‘Carney,’ the voice calmed itself, ‘I don’t think you quite understand. You’ve just got away with something which everybody knows is completely impossible. Now, they haven’t yet figured out how you managed it, but for sure there’re a lot of folks pretty pissed off out here. I mean, you just don’t walk away with a marathon dressed like a Chelsea poof in the sixties. Believe me, Carney, you just don’t. So when I say we’ve got to meet I mean right now. This very hour.’
    ‘Oh, I couldn’t manage that, I’m afraid. I’m slightly weary, if the truth be told, and my feet are a little sore. Besides, at this particular moment I’m in my bath.’
    ‘Carney! Listen, will you? God damn it, I can’t work out whether you’re really that innocent or just playing dumb.’
    ‘I’m just playing dumb, Bob.’
    ‘Nor do I yet know what hook or crook you used to pull today’s little stunt, but for the moment, at any rate, you’ve got your big bloody break. OK? You’re a celebrity. Believe me, nobody’s talking about anything else. I mean, you may be settling down for a quiet evening’s Scrabble but out here everybody’s busting their guts trying to get a line on you. You’ll be all over the front pages tomorrow, I promise you. Probably a good shot of you crossing the finishing line with, for God’s sake, your hands in your pockets, and headlines like “Mystery Outsider Makes Laughing-Stock of Marathon”. Shut up ; justlisten. Now, by nine tomorrow morning half the country will still be splitting their sides, half will be sharpening their knives and a third half will be trying to sign you up. Now tell me we still haven’t got something to discuss this evening.’
    ‘Well, I suppose if you insist.’
    ‘Yes, Carney, I am insisting. I think I’d better come right on over. Where is it again?’
    But at that moment the certitude welled up within him. There was a time to play dumb – because it infuriated people – and a time to remember that he had very recently become a man with a mission.
    ‘No, Bob, you’re not coming here. If you want to see me tonight, you’re going to have to do as I tell you; I’m sorry, but there it is. I’ll give you what you say you want – some of my time – but in exchange for what I want.’
    ‘Of course, Carney. I’ve got you. How much?’
    ‘Not money. No, I don’t want money. What I’m insisting on is a short interview with you, videotaped in the studio. That’s all. I’m not insisting that it’s ever broadcast, just that it’s made. I can promise you only that I’ll say something which will make you sit up. Between you and me, Bob,’ Carney said confidentially, ‘I’ll take a small bet that some of it at least will go out. Sooner or later.’
    The interview he taped that night at the studios did indeed go out – not once but many, many times over the next months. In fact it became famous as source material for a thousand broadcasts in a hundred languages, known simply as ‘The Palafox Challenge’. In its unedited entirety the brief interview ran:

         
BS:
   
Mr Palafox. The sporting world tonight – indeed, the whole world tonight – is still