The mystery of the poisoned seagull: is this the start of the fightback?

They've divebombed pensioners. They've eaten tortoises. Now a seagull has been found dead in Bridport. Tragic accident or mob-style warning? Our gumshoe found a tale of starling-swallowers, salmonella - and a second victim

"They sent you all this way to ask about a seagull?" The taxi driver looked at me in the mirror. In his eyes, I saw confusion, maybe a little fear. I smiled wearily. Not now, I thought. Not him, too. No more talk of seagulls. It had been a long couple of days. I was so nearly out of Saigon I could hear the rotor blades thumping above.

By Saigon, of course, I mean Bridport, west Dorset, a seaside market town of charity shops, estate agents and bad local art galleries. By rotor blades, I mean seagulls. For the past 36 hours I had thought about little else. If you gaze at the seagull long enough, I learned, it gazes back at you. You wonder whether it has a demonic quality. A seagull will do strange things to a man.