'The bouphonia,' said Drew Urquhart, 'which can be translated as "the murder of the ox", was an Athenian rite aimed at bringing an end to a period of drought and its associated deprivations. You'll likely have read about it in The Golden Bough...' He paused and directed a smile at Dalziel, who said, 'I don't do much reading in pubs. Just give us the gist.' 'Frazer describes the ritual thus. Barley and wheat were laid on the altar and oxen driven close by. The animal that went up to the altar and started eating was sacrificed by men using axe and knife, which weapons they immediately threw away from them and fled. Ultimately everyone concerned in the animal's death stood trial, each passed on the blame till it came to be laid completely at the door of the knife and the axe which were judged guilty, condemned and hurled into the sea.' Pascoe, who had been listening closely - unlike his master who had cupped his great hands round his great face and was groaning softly into the resultant funnel with a sound like a rising westerly echoing through Fingal's Cave - asked, 'So you think this is why the Wordman threw the gun away but not the axe? The Hon. was dead when his head got chopped off so the axe wasn't guilty.' 'That's right. You'll have noticed how he talks about the weapon more or less firing itself, just as he talks about the victim selecting itself, like the Athenian ox. By the by, did the PM find any sign he'd been eating anything?' Pascoe glanced at Dalziel who was the arbiter of how much information they gave non-officials, but before he could get eye contact, Dr Pottle (back to full smoking strength after his recent illness) said, 'More significant than all these word games he clearly likes playing could be the strong sexual imagery he uses here. It's what's happening in his psyche that will give us the clue to track