The classic team role-playing game of conspiracy and strangeness

Nightmare on the Neckar – Chapter 4

12.30 pm, Friday 31 October 1997

Helga Braun greets the SITU group cheerfully, saying "Will you be eating lunch here today? Our special meal, of Bavarian tripe and onions, is served."

Ella looks pleadingly at the others, and Iain, putting on his best Death voice says, "I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU LOT, BUT I COULD MURDER A CURRY!" He snatches up the telephone directory from the desk, and starts flipping through it.

"Here we are: Jamal's Tandoori House. It's in Klingsorstrasse, that's just round the corner... shall we?"

All but James, who says "I'll catch up with you," head for the door, leaving Helga disconsolate.

James heads up to his room, takes up the phone, and asks Gil to connect him to the number Professor Keizinger gave him for the European Molecular Letters offices. There is a good deal of clicking and crackling, but eventually he hears an Italian-accented voice politely inquiring his business.

James introduces himself as an interested amateur and says that he has heard that Professor Anna Keizinger of the Institute of Molecular Medicine at the University of Heidelberg is shortly to have a paper published. Is it possible for them to send him a copy of the journal when the issue comes out? He gives the title of the paper, deliberately getting it slightly wrong.

There is a certain amount of searching through filing cabinets and the like, and muffled conversation, at the far end of the phone. Eventually the receptionist returns with the news that Professor Keizinger's paper is not currently scheduled to be published in the journal. She submitted it but has been asked to rewrite it before it will be considered ready for publication, so it is unlikely that it will see print before the end of next year. James is advised to contact Professor Keizinger directly if he wishes to see the material before then.

James is not completely sure, but he thinks there is a certain guarded quality about the receptionist's voice that was not there before.

He lets her hang up first, and then listens carefully. There is a second click, a moment later. It could be an echo on the line...

"I bombed out at the police station," says Ella, flipping through the menu. "Fuchs is toeing the company line, but I think there is a ray of hope in the form of Detective Constable Heidi Probst!"

Greg, who had a nap and a shower this morning - a rather more trying experience than he might have wished, as the Unter den Linden's plumbing does not seem of the first rank of modernity - is more relaxed-looking than when his colleagues last saw him.

"We need to agree on a coherent plan. If the police are involved, as looks more and more probable, it's all the more important we avoid illegal activity. People have disappeared here nearly without a trace already. If our enemies realize that they have an active opposition working against them, they might easily be ruthless enough to murder us all, and be able to get away with it."

"At least one thing seems clear," says Nora. "Someone is taking tramps off the streets – dead, or maybe alive – and using their parts – and obviously concealing this fact. Who else but the mortician? Why doesn't one of you take on the disguise of tramp and visit the theatre?"

Iain exchanges a glance with Ella. "We have a plan for getting in there - later on."

She nods. "But first I want to find out a bit more about Constable Probst. I think she may be our link to finding out what happened to get the police investigation cancelled: we will have to question her. We have to call Prof K, to find out if she made any progress on the tissue rejection angle: I'll ask her about Heidi: is she trustworthy, how long has she been working with Fuchs, will she help us?"

"We should ask Professor Keizinger about any of the other policemen that she knows about: including Reuter, Heidi Probst, and the Commissioner of Police," says Greg. "But I don't think we should speak with her on the phone if we can avoid it. Are any of you competent to find a bug in a phone?"

He is met with blank looks.

James appears, takes his seat and immediately starts munching on the papadoms that are out on the table. He looks as though he is regretting missing breakfast.

"Heidi may even be our link to getting some samples from the body through the repugnant Reuter," says Ella. "Or, if she's reluctant..." She looks at Nora.

Nora makes a preening motion. "If any of you want to come along, I'm planning to go and visit our Mr Reuter - or alone, if need be."

"Someone should be close by when you're dealing with Reuter," says Greg, "in case you need a rescue."

"I'll take care of it," says Uriah.

"But it will be best if you can extricate her from her situation in such a way that it won't be clear that you know her," Greg adds. He looks rather serious.

The food arrives, and all fall to with gusto: as curries go it is rather ordinary, but the thought of Bavarian tripe and onions lingers minatorily in everyone's minds.

"It's odd the Professor should discount our Frankenstein theory so readily, and yet go with the idea of massive limb transplantation and immunosuppressants," says Nora, as the waiter clears the dishes. She looks meaningly around the table, but James manages to disguise his amusement at the F-word. "Well, I can't sit around here chatting all day: I'm off out there to investigate!" She rises with a twirl and heads out into the city.

Ella sighs slightly. "I get the impression that nothing scares her! We'll have a better idea about what to do about Reuter, once we have talked to Heidi, but we might want to consider putting him under surveillance first, Uriah, James, could you do that?

"I'll take care of that, too" says Uriah cheerily, looking as though he will relish the opportunity. "He'll never see me." He sets off after Nora.

As Ella rises she turns to the Senator. "Thanks Greg, you didn't have to replace my whiskey, but it is appreciated."

"I suppose that I'd better get myself a costume for tonight's parade," says Iain. "I'll scoot off and do some shopping and meet you guys at the hotel for dinner."

"I'll come with you," mumbles James, cramming in a last complimentary mint.

Ella calls Heidi Probst and arranges to meet her at a coffee bar at the end of the Potsdamer Bridge. The young policewoman sounds intrigued and eager to meet her.

Iain accompanies Ella to the rendezvous - a busy place, full of tourists - and lurks outside. He sees Heidi arrive, but she is not followed, as far as he can make out.

Ella orders coffee for both, and looks seriously at Heidi across the narrow table, putting her hands flat on it. "Heidi, I wanted to know more about this Schreik investigation. I have a feeling something was discovered that we haven't been told about. Why was the investigation cancelled? And by who?"

Heidi leans forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She speaks softly. "By the Chief himself! The Commissioner! You should have heard Otto - Inspector Fuchs - swearing when he was told. It's a big shame to him, to be taken off a homicide case. And for me, too," she shrugs, "but I'm just the Constable, yes?"

"What do you think it might have been? Did you find anything unusual?"

"No, not really, that's what is strange - apart from this DNA business. It looked to me like a routine... down-and-out, you say? – hit over the head and thrown in the river. It happens all the time." She leans back and sips her coffee, looking around.

Ella frowns, thinking. Professor Keizinger should be able to say, thanks to Uriah's work on the Inorganic Chemistry computers, what was in the blood sample. Could it have been that?

"What had you found out just before the Commissioner closed the case?"

"Well, we'd had the pathologist's report -"

"Was that from that Reuter man?"

"Oh, no, he was out of town when the body came in: this was one of his assistants. And we'd had Professor Keizinger's report of course. There was a report on some chemistry analysis we were waiting for. And that was it."

Ella wishes momentarily that one of her more persuasive colleagues were alongside her. "Heidi, I want to ask you to do something for us - which might mean going against your professional police practices. Can you help us get hold of the pathologist's samples, so that we can analyse them ourselves?"

Heidi pales slightly under her makeup. "Now, Ella, I'm not sure this is such a good idea, you know. This is a dangerous thing you ask me. Apart from I would be dismissed if it was found out, it would mean going up against Reuter, and that means the Chief." She downs her coffee and looks nervously around her, as though the mysterious Commissioner might be sat at the next table.

Nora and Uriah head to the police station, and Nora asks at the desk if they can see Herr Hans Reuter, the chief mortician. She shows her press credentials.

The receptionist looks at her appraisingly, eyebrows raised, then directs them towards a flight of stairs.

As they head for the stairway, Uriah starts to hang back, so that when they arrive in the morgue it will not be immediately apparent that he is with Nora.

The air is dank and chill at the foot of the stairs, and the only light is from two flickering strip lights. Pulling her jacket closer about her, Nora heads along the corridor, which is floored with ceramic tiles, and taps gently on the door marked 'Reuter'. There is the faint sound of dripping off in the distance, and a smell of disinfectant pervades the air.

There is a cry of "Komm!" from within, and Nora boldly pushes the door open. Reuter's office is small and cluttered, with files, photographic prints and small plastic bags and boxes over every available surface. He is sat behind a large desk, and his face lights with pleasure as he sees her.

Nora introduces herself, suppressing a shudder as she sees what is depicted on the photographs she clears from the nearest chair: she is doing a story on the work of morticians across Europe: as part of a large series to be printed in the Australian Journal of Morticians. This is a new publication hoping to capture the large Australian mortician market: and it will be presenting an award to the most innovative mortician in Europe. She places her hands together in her lap, and tilts her head fetchingly towards Reuter.

Reuter is clearly flattered that an attractive woman would come halfway round the world to interview him. "Innovative, eh?" His voice is sibilant and high-pitched. "Well, my dear, I am certainly that." His eyes are unreadable behind thick, dark glasses.

"My – you are an interesting looking man," says Nora, as though it has only just struck her. "Too handsome to be a mortician I think..."

He smiles thinly, putting his hands behind his bald head and leaning back. His white coat falls open to reveal a rather stained brown suit. "Is that so? How kind of you to say so. Are you a student of beauty as well as a journalist?"

"Actually, yes: and a photograph of you to accompany the article would be excellent," says Nora. She leans forward, her elbows on his desk, gazing into his face, her body language very open (as is her neckline). "I hear there's some sort of parade here in town today - perhaps we could take some photos of you enjoying the festivities?"

"The All Hallows' parade? Yes, indeed, I shall be there: I never miss a year. It is a very important event for we Heidelbergers."

"Perhaps we could meet, then?" suggests Nora. "Why don't I find you at..."

"At the coffee house at the end of the Potsdamer Bridge - that's an easy place to find, and we shall have a good view of the parade. Shall we say nine o'clock? But now, I have work to do." He stands up with remarkable briskness, seeming to go from lounging to upright without passing through any stage in between. Nora is a little disconcerted and finds herself being shepherded to the door, a hand on her elbow and another at her waist.

As she leaves she swivels on her heel and plants a small kiss on Reuter's cheek. "Until nine, then!"

Iain and James head for the costume shop recommended by Nora. Business is brisk, but both manage to find what they wanted. Iain selects a Death costume with big baggy robes and hood. He tries on a number of skull masks before selecting the most comfortable (or rather least uncomfortable). James picks out a Frankenstein's monster outfit, which seems to be among the more popular lines. He is careful to obtain a receipt.

James then heads to a nearby florist to buy a large bunch of chrysanthemums, before making his way to the University.

Iain tours the hardware shops of the city centre, and comes away with a broom handle that he can stick a tinfoil scythe head onto, together with the requisite tinfoil. He goes on to buy cigarettes, matches, energy bars, six small bottles of Schnapps, and a small bottle of gin. This last he mostly empties, attracting a couple of curious glances in the public toilets, and tops up with water.

On his travels Iain is careful to see whether or not he is being followed. He changes direction unexpectedly, and hops in and out of taxis. He is reasonably confident his tail is clean, although there are a lot of policemen about, setting up the parade: they could be passing him from one to the next, if he was feeling really paranoid.

James reaches the University and makes his way to Professor Keizinger's lab. He finds her busy arguing with a colleague, her hair straying over her forehead as she makes exasperated swishing motions with one hand, but she breaks off and smiles to see him.

James, clearing his throat, asks her "Would you care to accompany me to the carnival later... I mean, assuming you have no other... uhm... oh dear how indiscreet of me... these are...ummm, for you." He hands her the chrysanthemums.

Professor Keizinger blushes profusely and snatches at them, much to the amusement of the colleague she had just been berating. "Why, thank you most kindly, Mr Bowater - err, James. I would be delighted to accompany you." She holds the flowers rather stiffly, as though expecting them to bite.

It is a rather touching scene.

They enter her private office, and as she hunts for a suitable container James smoothly moves the subject on to the Heidelberg Commissioner of Police.

There is a crash and tinkle of glass from behind the desk, and the Professor straightens up, pushing her hands through her hair. "That was the only vase I have!" She takes up a measuring cylinder instead, and fills that with water, while James clears up the broken glass.

"The Commissioner, yes, I have met him. His name is Nomi - Klaus Nomi. He is an interesting man. Very powerful in this city. He has a compelling air about him: you can see that he was marked out for a position of power. He is from an important family of these parts."

"Did he attend university, do you know?"

"Oh, yes, I do, in fact. He was here at Heidelberg, he told me once - that is where all these people attend as students, you know." She says 'these people' with a dismissive sniff, presumably embracing Germany's entire ruling class.

"I expect he was a member of one of these duelling societies, if he's that well-bred," muses James. "My understanding is that there are basically two types – the ones which are now mainly social or drinking clubs, and a nastier underground type, pretty fascist in nature. Would that be true?"

"Yes, you are right," agrees Anna [as we shall henceforth refer to her]. She looks at James with new respect. "A good deal of the politicians of the Right are educated here at this university, you know. And the duelling clubs are a breeding-ground for anti-social thoughts and behaviours. I would imagine that Herr Nomi was indeed a member: he is just the type."

"What was in the file obtained by Uriah from the inorganic chemists?" asks James.

Anna sits down. "That was most interesting. You must thank Mr Sutherland for me. It contained the results of their spectrography - mass spectrograms, infra-red crystallograms, and some NMR spectrography as well. They must have been puzzled to use all that."

"What did it show?"

She laughs. "Oh, I think there must have been some mistake on their instruments. Their preliminary conclusions were that the substance was mixed halides of ytterbium - that is a rare earth metal, atomic number 70 - but then they thought the atomic weight was much too great to be ytterbium. It seemed too great for any sensible atom. I don't follow the details myself, but here's a copy for you." She hands James a printout of the files: it means nothing at all to him, but presumably SITU will find it interesting.

Uriah bids Nora farewell and takes up a position lurking outside the police station, waiting to shadow Hans Reuter. He is not long disappointed, as after fifteen or twenty minutes the mortician emerges, wrapped in a long black raincoat and with a black gabardine trilby.

Uriah falls into step a little way behind as Reuter strides off across the platz, moving quickly. The crowds are thick and milling, but Reuter is easy to spot: Uriah follows him for around ten minutes as he crosses the river to the newer side of the city and heads eastwards.

Reuter gets on a bus, and Uriah also cautiously boards, standing on the platform at the back. When he sees Reuter rise to get off, he leaps off himself, landing nimbly and moving to the cover of a doorway as the vehicle slows.

His quarry, still striding quickly, turns into a residential street, walled with dark townhouses that look to date to the eighteenth century or thenabouts. He enters one, and Uriah notes the number before taking up a position opposite. The street is quiet and empty.

After about five minutes a car draws up between the house and Uriah, and two men get out. Both are burly, wearing overcoats. They approach Uriah and, in English, one asks him for a light. Uriah, a little nervous, digs in his pockets for matches.

There is a soundless explosion of pain on the back of his head, and he knows no more.

James bids Anna farewell and heads for the University library. It is open to the public, and he approaches a middle-aged librarian in pince-nez, spreading his hands apologetically. "I'm afraid I speak no German - I wonder if you can help me?"

She looks at him suspiciously at first, but her expression melts slightly at the sight of his ready smile.

"I understand there's a newspaper called the Mannheim Herald - is that right?"

She points him at the book of microfiche, and James spends a couple of happy hours trawling through. It seems that local papers are local papers the world over, and this one is as tedious a any other. There are a number of small stories about deaths among the homeless of Heidelberg, but none are covered in any detail: it seems that such events are not interesting news. Among them are the four names mentioned in connection with the body: it all bears out what Nora learned the previous day.

He has more luck with his other task: there are several stories about Commissioner of Police Klaus Nomi, including photographs. He seems a handsome man in his fifties, with a commanding expression, looking good in uniform. On his cheek is a small scar, as though from a knife cut. There is nothing of interest about him in any of the stories.

James beckons over the librarian again, and asks whether Nomi attended the University. On receiving the affirmative, he asks if there is any yearbook that might record his society membership. It seems that the University keeps no such records: only the societies themselves would be able to tell him whether Nomi had been a member.

Greg phones Anna and asks whether he can come and meet with her. Having only just got rid of James, she sounds a little flustered, as though wondering whether she will be able to get any work done at all today, but agrees.

When Greg arrives, he thinks a surreptitious titter runs around the lab as he announces himself to Anna's colleagues, but he is not sure. On entering her office he sees that there is a large bunch of chrysanthemums arranged in pride of place on her mantelpiece.

"Fräulein Professor, I didn't want to call you to speak about this, but another angle on the immune suppressant ideas that have been suggested is that someone might be interested in testing a drug to retard transplant rejections in even the most extreme cases. Does that sound possible?"

She thinks. "Yes, indeed, possible. It seems a curious experimental methodology, though."

Greg sighs. "I begin to feel more and more certain that at least one person involved in these crimes is seriously sick."

Anna says nothing but nods her head slowly and contemplatively.

"Do you have any plans for this evening? I wondered if you'd like to..."

She interrupts "I'm so sorry, Senator, I would love to join you, but I have an engagement - with your colleague Mr Bowater, actually."

"Well, I shall be with Mr Bowater too, so we'll all be one big party - how's that?"

"Oh." Her face falls somewhat.

The party reunite back at the hotel.

"Where's Uriah?" asks Ella.

"I guess he's still shadowing Reuter," says Nora. She fills in the others on the events of the afternoon. Ella, James and Greg do likewise.

Greg tracks down Gil and starts a conversation with him about putting the international calls they have been making onto the bill. During the course of it he has a quick look at the guesthouse switchboard: it is a simple old-fashioned model, and he estimates that it would be extremely easy for whoever was operating it to listen in on any call they wished.

All retire upstairs to prepare for their big night.

Nora is squeezing herself into her Marie Antoinette costume when the telephone rings: it is a young man. "Remember me, last night?"

She has to think for a moment, but identifies him as the policeman she spoke to. "Why of course! How lovely to hear from you!"

"I'm off duty tonight, if you're free: we could see the parade together perhaps?"

Nora grits her teeth, thinking of Reuter. "Oh, sweetie, I'd love to, but I'm busy tonight - I've an assignment. Another time?"

He sounds disappointed. "Oh well, yes, perhaps - I will call again."

"No, wait - why don't I call you at work tomorrow? What's your name and department?"

"My name is Paul Schmidt, and I'm in Special Security."

"What does that mean? I know you wear a different uniform from the ordinary policemen..."

"It means I work against terrorists."

The party move off into town to the cafe where Nora agreed to meet Reuter, any lingering annoyance that Greg might have felt with her over her disappearance seemingly dispelled by the sight of her in her outfit.

James escorts Anna, who has arrived dressed as a schoolgirl in a long flaxen wig and a rather short skirt. Unlikely as it seems, it is in fact rather becoming.

The whole city is alive with people in costume, chatting excitedly, drinking, singing and swinging from lamp-posts. The main parade is just starting to pass over the Potsdamer Bridge as they arrive, and the noise is deafening - float after float piled high with students, blaring forth music in a variety of styles and tones, all the cafes spilling out onto the pavement, and fireworks arching into the sky above.

The incessant rain does not seem to be dampening anybody's spirits.

Iain and Ella, after a glance at the parade, head off towards the abandoned theatre, he in his Death costume (with a stuffed military kit vest underneath), she in her Helmut Kohl mask and anonymous black clothing, with a money belt rather than her usual handbag. "With everyone so distracted this sounds like a good night to be gathering some new specimens for experimentation!" she mutters to him.

Nora enters the café, where Reuter is waiting: by sheer force of personality, presumably, he has managed to keep a seat for her, although people are standing all around. He is dressed as Klaus Kinski in 'Nosferatu the Vampire': not a look which calls for a great deal of effort on his part, it must be said, with a huge black cape, prosthetic fangs and violet lipstick all that is required. He spreads his arms wide, a gleeful grin on his face (as far as can be determined: he is still wearing the thick black sunglasses) and embraces her, kissing her stickily on the lips. "My precious! How lovely to see you here!"

The others wait outside, Anna sandwiched between James and Greg. Greg cuts a very fine figure indeed as Washington, and he is being extremely solicitous of Anna: his eyes never leave her. James is chatting away in his usual charming fashion (he occasionally glances within to check on Nora), and Anna seems quite overcome at being the centre of attention in this way.

Amongst chatter about how wonderful the floats are, James brings up the names of Fuchs and Heidi Probst. What is Anna's opinion of Probst? Does she know anything about her?

It seems she does. "A very bright young lady, that one. She knows everything, it seems." Is there a hint of disapproval? "I am not sure if she will remain a detective for ever. It is a job for methodical people - like being a scientist. Not for geniuses, do not believe what you read."

Nora is busily plying Reuter with alcohol. "Drink up! It's a party!" She pretends to drink herself, spilling the booze on the floor when he looks away: it adds little to the morass underfoot. He is the perfect gentleman, not allowing her to buy any, and seems to be able to catch waitresses' eyes unerringly across the crowded café - despite not removing his sunglasses.

"So, tell me about your work - it must be fascinating!"

He looks sideways at her. "Perhaps I can show you something of it later, if you wish it."

Nora claps her hands with delight. "That would be fascinating! I do so love mortuaries!"

He looks sideways at her again.

"No sign of Uriah - he must be in the café somewhere, I suppose," says James.

"He should have seen us, though, and come and reported by now," says Greg. Although there are a number of Frankenstein's monsters around the parade, he is the only George Washington, and Uriah should have had no trouble spotting him. Greg is beginning to get a bad feeling. The crowd is thick about them now, in the aftermath of the floats, and pretty much everyone is dancing. The noise is ear-splitting.

Iain and Ella make their way through the twisty streets of the University quarter, threading through the tangled knots of students.

"Here we are:" Iain gestures at the building. It looks even more depressing than usual, in the light of fireworks reflected from the cloud. He pushes the door open, and he and Ella enter.

Inside is rather dark - there is a small bonfire in the middle of the place - and extremely smelly, testament to a variety of human effluvia. There is a knot of a half-dozen or so tramps around the fire, and Iain and Ella go to join them, treading carefully through the recumbent forms.

One tramp is playing on a mournful squeezebox: some of the buttons seem not to work, and he is restricted to just minor chords.

Another, who wears a top hat with the crown flapping loose, turns inquisitively to the two investigators. "Bugger off, spectres of doom and decay! Don't you know that's bad luck?" he says sharply in German on seeing them.

Iain crouches down and offers him a bottle of schnapps. "We're here for information." He is speaking German with a Swedish accent, not that Ella would know any different.

"Eh?" The tramp swigs at the schnapps. "Hmm! Good! Well -" he points to a vacant beer crate. "Sit down!" He pulls out a battered chess set. "We'll play - yes? If you win, I will answer your questions. If I win you must answer mine."

Reuter appears rather drunk by now, and is slumped half over Nora, his hand periodically straying onto her décolletage.

"Why don't we go back to your place?" she asks.

"Yesss... a good idea." He licks his lips and stands up, his chair failing to fall over only because bodies are pressed too tightly around it.

Nora stands too, and he drapes her in his voluminous black cape. "Wouldn't want you to catch a chill, would we? No, we would not." Together they stagger out onto the pavement.

Anna has dragged James out into the street to dance, as a particularly impressive sound system has drawn up at the end of the bridge. Greg stays in the crowd, keeping an eye on them. He suddenly sees Reuter and Nora, her all but hidden under the cape, starting to leave, and tries to catch James's attention.

"I'm here after a cousin of mine," says Iain, who won the first game. "He came here from Stockholm a few years ago, and we never heard from him again. I'm afraid he may have disappeared here in Heidelberg."

The tramp with the hat, who seems to be the leader, spits into the fire. His complexion has grown quite rosy on the schnapps. Under the dirt it is apparent he is still a young man. "This is a bad place to come, friend. Your cousin should have stayed in Sweden."

"Why's that? Do people disappear here often?"

There is a chuckle from the shadows around them. "If you don't come here to disappear, why should you come here at all?" calls a woman's drink-roughened voice.

"Yes." The leader takes another drink. "People do go missing here. We have a lot of 'accidents'."

"You make it sound suspicious," says Iain.

"Suspicious isn't the word. We are preyed upon here, is the truth - preyed upon like carrion, by a tribe of vultures that passes as human."

This phrase grips Iain with a curious horror. "What do you mean?"

"What I said."

"Why on earth don't you leave?"

"This is a magical place, Swedish man. We, the people of the bloody mark, get our power here. How could we leave? We'd just become bloodless husks, blown on the wind." These words are uttered with a deep conviction, yet Iain cannot but notice that his interlocutor's eyes are focused not on his face but on a point seemingly in the far distance.

James is trying to steer Anna back towards Greg, but he is fighting against the tide of humanity. He is broken away from her, and there is a panicky moment as she whirls off into the crowd, starting to dance with a different Frankenstein's monster altogether.

Greg pushes James after Nora and Reuter and dives into the crowd himself, grabbing Anna from behind and hauling her out. She seems unperturbed, probably thanks to the several whiskies she has drunk, and sways happily from James to Greg and back again.

Nora and Reuter are a little way ahead, forging into the crowd: for some reason, it seems to part before Reuter, and he is making quite good headway for a drunken man. They are heading not towards the police station but over the bridge, towards the newer part of town.

11.45 pm, Friday 31 October 1997
Nora: on the Potsdamer Bridge
Greg and James: at the end of the bridge
Ella and Iain: in the burnt-out theatre
Uriah: ?


Ella: during the course of the afternoon Greg seems back to his controlled self. Looking closely, though, she can see the lines around his eyes and mouth which bespeak great tension. She knows little of his past, certainly nothing that might explain his reaction, although presumably as he is a public figure most of it would be available for the looking. She advises Nora, Iain, Uriah and James of her concern.

Nora, Iain, James: Ella approaches you and says that she is concerned about Greg: there seems to be an irrational side to his character that had not previously shown. She advises you to keep an eye on him.

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