Must admit I was thrilled to hear that Cynthia Vanier is getting herself out of a Mexican prison.
What that means is the payola finally got to the judge in the case.
Not that this should be any reflection on the veracity of Cynthia's case; everybody knows that the ebb and flow of bakteesh in Mexico ebbs and flows quite independently of a person's innocence or guilt.
Rather, it ebbs and flows in accordance with the depth of the pockets of those ensnared in the Mexican judicial system.
In Cynthia's case, those pockets were deemed deep indeed.
On the one hand, you had the Muammar Gaddafi clan, universally known as the biggest kleptocrats in history.
On the other, you had the SNC-Lavalin conglomerate, the poster-boys of post-colonial corruption, headed up by the anti-corruption sermonizer Gwyn Morgan.
With such a stellar cast lurking in the background, it's no wonder that it took the Mexican authorities a year and a half to come to a satisfactory settlement.
Me and Cynthia are practically next-door neighbors. An hour down the road qualifies as "next door" in these parts. I'll be having her over soon for a cup of tea, or a pint or two, and we'll get to the bottom of this story.