This is a Datsun 1600. It went by the name of the Datsun 510 in the US, where it was apparently known as the “poor man’s BMW.” I see this car every morning as I approach work. It is usually sitting on its own at the Silo’s end of Salamanca place, and I have no idea who actually owns it or why it is parked there. Even though I have no idea who it belongs to, every day I like to exercise my imagination and mentally prepare a brief back story of the owner. A guy has to have a hobby, what can I say? This other morning was a good one. On Tuesday, the owner was a ruggedly handsome Mossad agent who is deeply penetrated into a shadowy organisation that ostensibly facilitates theatre programmes for prisoners on day release, but in reality operates as a sleeper cell that recruits and trains ‘cleaners’ for splinter groups administered by rogue elements of the Palestinian Authority. He is a great dancer and his hair always smells very nice. Yesterday, the owner was an elderly gent who takes great ...