Warming Death

W.J. Blackwood

Description

When man-made Global Warming becomes increasingly exposed as perhaps the greatest fraud ever visited on mankind, the anti-hero of this book lashes out recklessly at this threat to the foundation of his power and position. This is the story of a man of our time. An environmental champion committed to the fight against Global Warming with a perfect public image but a background of a dark and treacherous rise to power. Someone who routinely uses for his own purposes all whom he encounters, hides it cleverly but is despised by those he has crossed. A man with a debasing attitude to women who manages to ultimately pose as a tragic widower. With no understanding of the mechanics of Global Warming, he nevertheless uses it as the means of his self-promotion. He has no opinion as to the validity of the concept but accepts the growing absurdity and hysteria of its application. When he encounters evidence that others may be vastly more cynical and corrupt in their exploitation of the crusade to save the planet, his impotent fury results in an increasing retreat from reality. He becomes too wild for the Establishment to handle so, when he is murdered, they quietly abandon him. Set in London, the West of Scotland and several other global locations, it is a cautionary story of the seemingly invincible who ignore the fact that somebody may be keeping a tally.

Sujets

• Political
• Escocia
• Politics
• Central London
• Scotland

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 11 mai 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781789011326
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2018 W. J. Blackwood

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 978 1789011 326

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Contents
1
The Murder of Chalmers
2
McIvor is Appointed
3
McIvor gets to Work
4
DC Lee Arrives
5
Chalmers’ Beginnings
6
Chalmers at High School
7
Chalmers and the Debating Club
8
Chalmers’ first Strike
9
Chalmers’ Summer
10
Chalmers last Year of School & his first Death by Associaion
11
In Glasgow
12
The First Opportunism
13
Chalmers Finds the Dirty Girls
14
Chalmers at Work
15
Chalmers’ Father’s Funeral
16
Chalmers Encounters Rigby
17
The Fraud
18
Chalmers at SD
19
Giles-Cooper
20
Chalmers Starts to Plot
21
Chalmers Discovers Global Warming
22
The Plot Takes Form
23
The Last Effort
24
Chalmers Sex Life
25
Chalmers Pursues a Wife
26
Chalmers Married
27
Things fall Apart
28
The End of Giles-Cooper
29
Chalmers Triumphant
30
Chalmers’ General Tactics
31
Acquiring Power over Funding and Money
32
The Expulsion of Giles-Cooper’s Remnants
33
Chalmers’ Whore House
34
The Power of S.D.
35
Chalmers Checked
36
Chalmers Lashes Out
37
McIvor’s trip to Brussels
38
Lee and McIvor start again.
39
Further Complications and a change of Accommodation
40
They go to London
41
The Return
42
The Study of Boats
43
The Crucial Gotland Test


1
The Murder of Chalmers
In the town of Oban on the west coast of Scotland the local authority buildings stand just a little away from the town centre on a small elevation set back from the sea. They are clustered around the old town council offices which are now made humble by the growth of new additions. The old building is a mock baronial Victorian structure which was never distinguished and whose red sandstone ornamentation is beginning to give ground to the salt wind of over a century. Restoration is an act for which the council are not inspired to find the money. Yet in a world in which they contrive to interfere in every minor building alteration and slap innumerable restrictions on tampering with anything of the least antiquity, neither do they dare to tear it down and rebuild. That they do not restore it is not from a true appreciation of its lack of architectural merit, for such sensibilities are mostly beyond them, but arises from a feeling of total alienation from its ornamentation and stained glass. These windows contain things long gone from municipal fashion like the varied coats of arms and assorted classical links appearing in them. Such things also adorn the frieze of carved stone around the waist of the building. The Latin and Old French contained in them mean nothing to all but a few of the present elected representatives of the people and not very many of them can read and truly understood even the occasional example in Gaelic. The creators of this place evidently moved in a vastly different world from those present today.
Inside, it is and always was, a gloomy place of extensive varnished wood and further over ornamentation. The Council Chamber itself has some formal mock-gothic grandeur but the council has not done much to change it and what they have done is for the worse. The representatives of the people take all too readily to an adherence to the partially understood best taste of the age. Thus carpets have appeared where once polished floorboards were and these carpets are of the best. In a little while they will be ripped up and abandoned and the boards will be planed and polished again at some expense as the middle-class taste changes. Tables, lecterns, a throne like central construction and lesser seating have been ordered without thought to cost but the style is a strange modern interpretation of half Nordic, half Celtic design and the wood is some pale hardwood which is at odds with the dark panelling and roof beams.
In the surrounding areas it has also suffered from the cac-handedness of all actions planned by committee. The place is full of fire extinguishers and hand rails, large notices direct everywhere and proscribe and advise the most stupid on many topics. Random doors have been replaced by an assortment of modern styles through recent decades and odd sections of corridor have had panelling removed and replaced by plasterboard which has soon become cracked and worn. Their floors have been covered in thick non-slip plastic of some sort which also has prematurely aged. Self-congratulatory declarations of selective achievements and mission statements together with quality standard awards - each with the council logo and slogan (a stylised castle in five vertical black stripes over a stylised sea in four wavy horizontal blue stripes all under a stylised mountain in three receding triangles of purple and “Together for the Future” in the two languages) - are also prominently set before the visitor. There is everywhere the disguised but still tangible sense that this place is one with the whole tarnished realm of bus stations, hospital emergency areas and citizen’s advice centres.
It is a Friday lunch time on a warm day in July and the place is almost deserted. The breeze is in the east and uninterrupted sunshine beams in through open windows on workplaces with P.C.s , keyboards and monitors. Each place is adorned with personal accessories of small soft toys, postcards and an occasional potted plant. A scattering of secretaries and junior clerks sit around with their sandwiches while most are away at the canteen having their subsidised Thai-style chicken curry and chips. A significant contingent of financial controllers, I.T. operatives and planning officers of assorted rank are having a bar lunch in various nearby pubs before an afternoon of doing nothing. A mild air moves through deserted passageways and staircases from the open windows. It gently disturbs loose posters on the walls and causes a faulty fire door to knock softly and intermittently against its frame.

In a large office off a deserted corridor on the top floor of the newest part of this agglomeration of buildings is a tall and gaunt man seemingly in his late fifties and dressed in a smart but rather dated suit and still with the jacket on despite the warmth. He is pacing the room all alone and has the look of a narrow and harsh school