The Secret Diary of Dennis Brent

1st September

I went to visit father as part of Operation Troughton Hair Theft (OTHT for short). He greeted me with a bronchial rumble and muttered something about "Bloody students". I reminded him that it is a good many years since I graduated from the technical college. I had shown him Patrick's hair last weekend when he came round to let me know he'd changed his will and was leaving everything to Murray Walker. He had coughed all over the place and I had had to clean the glass after he left. My father is a remarkable man but oh is he a bore. You can tell he's Donald's father all right. His only comment was that he didn't like the font I'd chosen for the descriptive text. My father knows everything there is to know about fonts. Why can't he understand that there is more to life than fonts ? Oh well. I quizzed him about OTHT and he angrily told me he wouldn't have anything in the house that contained clumsy Tahoma 11pt. The object might, in his view, have had some merit had it been Garamond. I put him down as probably innocent.

Later - I quizzed Elkie about the theft. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and I realised at once that she was innocent. I kissed her on the nose and let her go back to playing with her brand new X Box computer game system. I suppose it must've been a present from Elko.

Later still - Donald flatly denied taking Patrick's hair. He also told me that Elko was utterly innocent as well. He seemed only one step away from challenging me to a duel to protect his honour. Donald may be a bore but he's not a criminal. He said Elko was much too busy playing with his brand new Scalextric to have time to steal a lock of Mr Troughton's hair. All in all I think it's been a productive day - 4 people to cross off my list. Tomorrow I shall visit the Elk and Bush and try and find the seedy man.

2nd September

I am nursing a broken nose after accusing the shady man of stealing Patrick's hair. He told me he would never do that sort of thing (apart from the time he stole it in the first place) and that I was casting doubt on his good name. He wouldn't go further and tell me what his good name actually was despite me lulling him into a false sense of security by allowing him to pummel my face.

3rd September

I decided to adopt a more cunning approach when quizzing Miss Morgan-Dalby about the Patrick affair. She confessed that she had been extremely proud to have seen the artefact and would indeed love to own such a thing but she told me she would, under no circumstances, transgress the law of the land in such a manner. I was ready to believe her when I saw her drive out of the public house car park without having put her seatbelt on. If she is capable of that, she is capable of anything. She had motive, she had opportunity and she has a criminal leanings.

6th September

I have all the evidence I need. I went round to Miss Morgan-Dalby's house on the pretext of giving her a copy of my lecture to the "American Whovian League for Technical Accuracy" (delivered in 1985 to great acclaim) and managed to bluster my way into her lounge. There on the wall was Patrick Troughton's hair. I confronted her with the facts and she told some nonsense story about having bought it for one thousand pounds from a moose round the back of the Elk and Bush. The moose - called, rather unimaginatively, Moosie - had told her it was one of a pair and that the other half was owned by "noted telehistorian Dennis Brent". She said she couldn't resist it. I didn't believe a word of it and told her I never wanted to see her again. I took my Troughton hair and came home. I'm better off out of it.

10th September

I have decided that my life needs new meaning. I need something to truly set me amongst the gods... greats. My recent success with rare Patrick Troughton hair has led me to want to collect a complete set of rare Doctor Who locks. After a day of scouring eBay I managed to find some of Sylvester McCoy's ear hair. Let's see my friend Ian Devine top that. I've put in a bid of three hundred pounds and bought a frame. It will mean reorganising my head room but it will be worth it.

12th September

Bastards bastards bastards. Someone has tipped my friend Ian Devine off about my rare Doctor Who hair collection and he's used his blasted "contacts" to obtain some of Peter Davison's "southern" hair. I won't use the actual word - it's filthy. How can I compete with Peter Davison's "southern" hair ? I might be as well to sell him Patrick and Sylvester for a tidy profit and let him corner the market. I could do with some cash at the moment - someone sent me an anonymous letter to say they had an ultra rare Radio Times Doctor Who Calendar which HADN'T been signed. Naturally I have a full set already (one of each signature) but an autograph-free one ? I will have to sniff it first - to satisfy myself that no Tippex has been used to hide a celebrity scribble. Yes - if it smells ok I will buy it.

18th September

My friend Ian Devine was playing hardball over Patrick's hair. He says he heard a rumour that it was stolen. Twice. I asked whether he meant he'd heard two rumours or that it had been stolen twice. He said two rumours and he'd heard it had actually been stolen three times. Once by the shady man, once by someone whose name sounded bizarrely like Melkie or Relkie - his speech problem has become worse - he can't even say "Jennifer Morgan-Dalby", and once by me. In the end he offered me fifty pounds for it and a chance to touch his Eileen Way vest and pants set. I reluctantly agreed on the condition that he would stamp out the rumours about me having engaged in something unlawful. He agreed because he is my friend.

23rd September

I am quite light headed as I write this. I've spent the evening sniffing the Doctor Who calendar and I'm pleased to say I found no trace of deception. I think I am enjoying what the children call a "head rush". I had something similar when I had a headache at a Doctor Who convention and someone I now suspect of being h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l gave me what he said was a painkiller. It certainly killed the pain but I'm sure normal paracetamol doesn't make you think you are a dolphin made out of jam.

30th September

I should be proud and happy but I'm not. Donald had a quiet word with me today and asked for my permission for Elko to propose to Elkie. Elko had acted like the perfect gentleman and what else could I say but "yes" ? He went straight to Elkie's stable and got down on two knees. She nodded eagerly and kissed him on the face. I want to think of it as gaining an elk-in-law but I can't help feeling I'll be losing Elkie. Elkie's stable is slightly bigger than Elko's but Donald said he would be more than happy to have it extended if they were both going to live there. Is this the end of my relationship with Elkie ? Will she come and visit me ? Will she let me visit her ? Life can be cruel.