Sir Richard Arcos writes: Discerning and learned readers may have noticed an interruption in service. This is because the Green Man was engaged in helping the wife and I squash a particularly septic pustule by the name of Sir Algebald Belhus, a former chemical factory owner whose appalling safety recod has created a great many widows and orphans. Under cover of an invitation to a conference, he was lured to a remote castle in Suffolk, where he was fed food laced with the toxic residue from his own factories. Since the poison was slow and unpredictable, sadly the Green Man was unable to leave said remote castle until it was obvious that the agonies of death had set in. Having delivered the message of doom to the hapless merchat of death, the Green Man was able to resume his duties in the field of visiting vengeance on the satanists of remotest Greyminster.