marketing, hot-wiring cars and make-up kits
I’ve just spent three days up the Goldie talking to a couple of marketing professionals in the Star Casino. I parked the 2003 Subaru Impreza SV on subterranean level 15 and saw their 2017 Audi R 8 Coupes on the forecourt apron on the way through.
Rick and Stevo. Ace operators.
Perfect teeth. When they smile you know it’s all good.
Because you know you’re getting the right advice when you pay top-dollar for it, this is a reflexive instinct, like buying on the down and selling on the up. Winners have money in their pockets, losers just their hands.
‘How many copies have you sold?’ asked Rick, seated in the restaurant now, looking at soft shelled crab and Thai greens, three grades of soy, crushed cashew nuts.
‘Not enough,’ sez I, ‘nobody outside the Sacred Circle can follow it.’
We ate, and a couple of Kate Moss look-alikes slinked past the table on their way to the baccarat rooms downstairs and I’m think temptation always bites twice, three times if you’re lucky because now Ricko is telling me how to sell more books.
‘Give something away.’
This from a man who claims nightclub tips on his tax returns, a winner, like I said.
‘So, what have you got?’
‘I’ve got this.’
Rick shrugs, looks at Stevo. Nothing there.
‘Whaddya got to do to win one?’
‘Answer a question.’
I worked for a yacht builder for ten years, check LinkedIn, he built Sydney to Hobart boats, ones that always won, John McConaghy, Macca. Top bloke. He had a password for his computer, DIFINO, and one day I asked him the question.
‘What does it mean?’
‘Passwords,’ he said, ‘a bloke never remembers what they are, so every time I log on to a site and it asks me what my password is I tell it I’m fucked if I know.’
Then you’ll never work for a boat-builder, plus you’re not so good at codes.
Here’s the question you need to answer to win a poster, a poster signed by retired detective John Bungate who has read the book three times and is still buying me beers.
Who fluffed the code on the back of the Rubaiyat?
Now, seriously, we need to look at SM’s tools again.
Dude’s hot-wiring equipment usage for instance, a theory that’s hard to beat down. But what if SM was double-handed and used the same kit for make-up?
Changing his appearance. That’s where this is going.
Scissors for cutting his own hair.
The glass dish with handful of soot plus a little added water = paste = hair dye. applied to his hair with a brush. The one that shook out a little black powder in the lab that mystified old Doc Cowan.