In a stunning display of the sort of explosive diplomacy that makes the Monaco Grand Prix look like a gentle slalom, a Ukrainian oligarch has been rudely interrupted by a bomb. The blast, which occurred in the glittering principality where the only things normally detonated are champagne corks, has left the tycoon nursing injuries and a considerable dent in his day. Scotland Yard, never ones to miss a chance to wave their truncheons at a continental crisis, have gallantly offered their anti-terror expertise.
One can only imagine the scene: a stern British detective peering at the wreckage over a cup of lukewarm tea, muttering about the rudeness of it all while the oligarch's gold-plated bidet lies twisted in the rubble. The bomber, presumably some disgruntled former employee or rival, has vanished into the lavender-scented hills, leaving behind a trail of mayhem and the faint whiff of burning cash. Meanwhile, the Yard's finest are probably already drafting a report in the most polite yet terrifyingly bureaucratic language, offering to 'assist with inquiries' in a tone that suggests they've seen it all before, from the Krays to the Kremlin.
The oligarch, whose fortune is presumably derived from the noble art of selling natural resources and occasionally squashing dissent, must now grapple with the indignity of being a victim rather than a perpetrator. It's a tough life when your own wealth can't protect you from a simple bomb in a place where the biggest danger is usually a sunburn from the yacht deck. The explosion has certainly shaken the Monaco establishment, which prides itself on being a sanctuary for dodgy money and even dodgier haircuts.
Scotland Yard's involvement is a masterstroke of diplomacy, allowing Britain to meddle without actually having to do anything they weren't already planning. Expect a joint communiqué soon, full of words like 'solidarity' and 'vigilance', while everyone quietly wonders if the oligarch's insurance covers acts of terror by unseen enemies. The bomb, a modest device by international standards, has nonetheless sent a clear message: even in the tax haven of your dreams, you can't escape the long arm of Ukrainian business politics.
And if you do, you can be sure Scotland Yard will be there, notepad in hand, ready to take notes and then file them in a cabinet marked 'For Possible Further Action: When It Suits Us'.
