Chapter Two, Part 2410.38pm, Saturday 26th January, 1906, Just outside the Left Luggage Area, Geneva Central Station“I say chaps. Anything I can do?” asks
McGeenyton, arriving as the battle finishes, “Would you like some tea?”
Rip the last page from the dictionary, then write a formal but true-hearted letter of apology to the German, then hurry after the Ulrich Zeppeliner! (bringing the dictionary, of course.)
"Good gracious!" exclaims
von Fersen, ignoring the Englishman for the minute and distressed to see the poor German so upset by his finely crafted Dutch insults. He kneels down to tear a page from the dictionary, and sits down on a nearby stool to write a formal yet sincere letter of apology to the unfortunate man. It’s so exquisite [6] that he orders his butler to make a copy before leaving the note in the German’s breast pocket – it might come in useful one day, if only to be published in the correspondence that all real poets should one day publish.
Gentlemanliness Increased! Extremely Gentlemanly Letter!
Item Acquired! Exquisitely Crafted Letter of Apology!
"Are you all mad? The man with the briefcase is getting away! Initiate pursuit!"
“G” rushes after the German with the dispatch case, crying at his fellow spies to stop gentlemanning about and follow him: the task at hand is urgent! He sprints away, desperate to put a stop to the foul caddishry of his countrymen. But alas! He fails to correctly tighten his shoelaces before initiating pursuit! He falls to his face! He cuts his chin! Ulrich the German escapes from view [1]!
Wound Acquired! Cut Chin!
Gentlemanliness Temporarily Decreased! Rather Hideous Cut!
Take Scriver's Doorknob and chase after Ulrich!
Seeing the urgent fall of his companion,
Von Fersen realises the importance of the mission, and prepares himself mentally to undergo the disgrace of walking faster than a brisk stroll in public. But suddenly he is saved from this ignominy! He sees Smith preparing his walking
bat stick in a way he knows well: a businesslike way! He leans over to him.
“I say Smith old chap, can I offer you a (possibly explosive) doorknob?”
The mission is too urgent for polite conversation!
Smith tips his hat, accepting the artifact hereby known as Scriver’s Doorknob and sets off in brutally fast pursuit of the escaping German spy. It is a vulgar and inelegant [1] particularly brisk stroll!
Item Acquired! Scriver’s Doorknob!
Caddishness Increased! Vulgar and Inelegant Speed of Strolling in Public!
Use them to make the zeppelin one surrender.
Idling along in a more civilised manner after Smith, von Fersen and
McGeenyton chase down the dispatch case and make good time, soon reaching the end of the main street in front of the station. The three spies catch sight of the German just as he turns a corner at the end of the avenue. He starts climbing the rope ladder to board his waiting Zeppelin!
McGeenyton shouts out after him to try to convince him to surrender, but the distance is too great [3]!
… … … … … …
Tend to my wounded arm...
Back in the ruins of the Left Luggage Area of Geneva Central Station with “G”,
Mr Wellington tends to his wounded, bullet-holed, indeed, hand. He reaches into his evening jacket and pulls a small hip flask of brandy from within. He takes a mouthful. All is well [5]!
Mr Wellington and “G” are still in the station; Smith, von Fersen, and McGeenyton are, in that order, closing in on Ulrich the German with the dispatch case. They are 100 yards from his Zeppelin; he is 10 feet from the Zeppelin’s basket, climbing up the rope ladder.