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Post by Tug on Dec 2, 2018 1:25:24 GMT -5
It was a slow day at the Koket of Sweden. After finishing all of his breakfast orders, Gunnarson decided now was the best time to take his break. Victor Ek had brewed him a nice cup of brew and was sipping it quietly as he sat in his favorite booth, looking over the latest dinner menu in preparation of the evening rush. "Can you believe it? Another jewelry store has been hit..." "What? That's the third this month! How many does it make it in the last year alone?" "Who knows, whoever's behind it knows when to strike. They've been targeting these places every time Scotland Yard's been dealing with a major case. Be it the Blade Syndicate, the Irish Mob, or even J.J.E., they hit a store or two during those affairs..." "It's strange, they haven't seen this fellow or fellows once during all of this? What is the constabulary coming to this days?" "I think it's that Commissioner, he was fine during the war years, but ever since the war ended, this crooks have been coming out of the wood-works. London isn't the same as it used to be..." "I'll drink to that... Oi Waiter, can I have another round of bacon?" Gunnarson sighed at the men's conversation. He had been drawn in due to their talk of a crime, but by the time it turned to deviling his friend, he tuned out as much as he could. As he debated whether to serve Raggmunk & Lingonberries or not tonight, a bell rang and someone sat in the seat right across from him. "Hello Gunnarson, I thought you would be on break around this time" smiled Hartley. "Ah Hartley, pleasure to see you as always. What brings you out here then?" asked Gunnarson "Nothing much, though I do have a question..." "A question? On what?" "Just... What does it mean when a woman's avoiding you?" "What?" Gunnarson sat there for a moment dumbfounded, he did not expect Hartley to be asking him on relationship advice. "Well, Phillipa has been avoiding me for the last few days and even if I call her, the minute I speak she hangs up on. I'm at a loss here not knowing what to do..." replied Hartley "Have you considered a marriage counselor maybe? I may be a Detective who can deduce means, motive, and opportunity, but I'm not cupid who makes marriageable problems go away" responded Gunnarson "I guess... I just came to you because you usually know what to do in situations like this..." shrugged Hartley Before Gunnarson could reply, Johansson came out of his office and yelled, "Gunnarson, there's a call for you, seems to be about your PI work..." "Well Hartley, up for working on a case together, it's been a while, hasn't it?" "Why not, maybe the clear air and tense deductions will give me the answer of searching for?" "Come on Gunnarson, I won't hold the call forever!" shouted Johansson "Right away sir!" replied Gunnarson as he went off to get the details of the new case. What the duo didn't know, was this would be one of the most infamous cases of Adolf Gunnarson, for it was the one that destroyed James Hartley and Adolf Gunnarson's friendship for many years... ..... Literary Mosaic 17:
Shattered Bonds
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 2, 2018 1:43:52 GMT -5
Gunnarson came into the office and was handed the phone.
"Hello, this is Gunnarson. A robbery, you say? Well, it has been a while, but I cannot bring myself to turn down anyone who requests my aid. No, please spare me the details until we talk in person; I'd rather have as few ears listening in as possible" Gunnarson then turned to his boss, "No offense, sir"
"None taken" Johansson replied thoughtfully
"Right, so the address, then? I shall come as soon as I can" Gunnarson said, writing something down before hanging up. "Sir, do you mind if I take a day or two?" Gunnarson asked.
"Go ahead; with the weather the way it is I don't anticipate that much foot traffic anyway" Johansson conceded.
"Thank you; let's go Hartley" Gunnarson said before the two left. "Hartley, where is Cricket anyway?" Gunnarson asked.
"Her father returned from his holiday; she had to return home lest he become suspicious. But that is not important now; let us focus on the case at hand"
"But of course" Gunnarson agreed. The two set off for the address
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Post by Tug on Dec 2, 2018 2:08:59 GMT -5
Gunnarson and Hartley soon arrived at the address, it was a sprawling manor seated cozily in the heart of London.
"Here we are, Chapman Manor..." said Gunnarson, as he pointed the building before them
"Chapman Manor? You mean the estate belonging to Lord Buford? THE Lord Buford? Of the House of Lords?" replied Hartley in shock
"The very same, now come we don't want to keep the good Lord waiting any longer..." responded Gunnarson as the duo proceeded to the door
Gunnarson knocked on the door, as an old man in a suit opened it and led the two into the foyer
"Ah, you must be the private investigator Master Buford hired, he is waiting in his study, follow me please..." spoke the old man as the duo followed the old butler to the expansion office...
The duo entered the room as a man behind a large desk proceeded to stand up and meet them.
"Adolf Gunnarson, I've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance..." said Lord Buford as he approached Gunnarson to shake his hand
"I as well, so what is it that you called me down for? Also, this is my associate James Hartley..." responded Gunnarson
"Pleasures all mine your Lordship" spoke Hartley as he shook Buford's hand
"Well, this isn't as interesting as your normal cases Gunnarson, but I've had a valuable family heirloom stolen. It was a golden crucifix raided from a Spanish Treasure Galleon by Sir Francis Drake given to my ancestor who served aboard as his crew. It's been in my family for generations..." said Lord Buford
"I will try my hardest in finding the object, would you care to show us the crime scene?" asked Gunnarson
"I would gladly take you myself but I have a few bills to look over, so, Cantrell, please take them to the upstairs parlour where the scoundrel broke into..." ordered Buford
"Certainly master, follow me sirs..." replied Cantrell as Gunnarson and Hartley followed suit
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 2, 2018 2:29:42 GMT -5
They came to what appeared to be something akin to a museum exhibit; Gunnarson and Hartley could not quite make sense of the room.
"Master Buford's family has acquired many a treasure over the years; he never liked the thought of having them gather dust in a vault so he specifically designed this room to show off the treasures his family" Cantrell explained.
"I see. Now, if you'll excuse me" Gunnarson said as he took a look at the one area where there was broken glass, and an empty space where it was clear that something was missing.
"Are there any indications of how the criminal got in?" Gunnarson asked.
"The door was locked; I'm afraid it was just the window" Cantrell said, indicating where in question. Gunnarson and Hartley looked it over, but nothing seemed wrong. Until...
"Gunnarson, do you see what I am seeing?" Hartley asked, indicating the hinges. Gunnarson looked them over, and upon moving a few things came to a shocking discovery.
"It would seem that the burglar removed the hinge, allowing him to separate the window from the pane itself, then he climbed in, took the cross and left the way he came in, putting the window back as to not draw suspicion" Gunnarson mused before looking down. There, among the grass, were the long, thin bits that held the hinges together
"Too frustrating to put them back" Hartley suggested.
"Yes, would seem that way" Gunnarson surmised. Then Gunnarson walked over to the glass where the cross was, retracing the steps of the burglar. That was when he noticed it- on the broken glass, smears of red.
"Blood; looks like he broke the glass with his fist; why though I wouldn't know" Gunnarson observed.
"So he was smart enough to figure out a stealthy way in, yet stupid enough that he used brute force to break the glass?" Hartley asked in confusion
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Post by Tug on Dec 2, 2018 2:37:14 GMT -5
"It could be something spooked him. Maybe he thought someone was coming, so he grabbed the easiest thing he could take. Look, the crucifix was the only thing stolen and doesn't seem to be the most expensive thing in this room. Plus, it would explain why he didn't reattach the window properly..." replied Gunnarson
"So Gunnarson, what's the plan now?" questioned Hartley
"Let's survey the room once more, then I think it's time we head for Scotland Yard for a lead..." replied Gunnarson firmly
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 2, 2018 2:48:32 GMT -5
"That's fair; we should double check to see if anything else was stolen" Hartley said. Indeed, a close examination of the room yielded little more than what was already found.
"Should we head to Scotland Yard then?" Hartley asked.
"I... wonder if I should ask Lord Buford some questions first" Gunnarson thought.
"pardon?" Hartley asked.
"Means, motive and opportunity. The burglar broke in at night when fewer people were there to witness him... opportunity. He used the resources available to him to commit the deed... means. Motive... that is the key to figuring out a suspect. The more I know, the more credible I will seem to Scotland Yard' Gunnarson reasoned.
"What do you want to ask him?" Hartley asked.
"If he owed anyone money, if anyone holds any ill will towards him, or if anyone has interfered in his love life. And of course, if there is something special about that cross compared to everything else; even the slightest detail could yield an important clue" Gunnarson mused.
"That's true... I suppose" Hartley acknowledged
"I guess we should ask if Buford is free to answer four quick questions then; and after, it's on to Scotland Yard" Gunnarson declared.
"Three, actually" Hartley pointed out.
"Huh?"
"You don't remember? Lady Buford died in that tragic accident two years ago when their yacht capsized off Dover; it was headline news" Hartley pointed out.
"Rules out love as a motive then; all right, I shall ask him for a couple minutes of his time then" Gunnarson said, going up to Cantrell. "Beg pardon, is there any chance Lord Buford could spare a couple minutes before we leave?" Gunnarson asked.
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Post by Tug on Dec 2, 2018 3:01:32 GMT -5
"Certainly, let me ask him since his study is near the staircase anyway..." replied Cantrell as the three returned to his study
The three soon found themselves back at Lord Buford's office... "Lord Buford, the good Detective has three questions to ask you before he departs, would you be able to anwser them?" asked Cantrell
"Yes, of course, what would they be?" questioned Buford
"I was wondering, do you owe anyone money? Does anyone hold ill will towards you? Is there something about that crucifix compared to everything else in that parlour?" asked Gunnarson
"Hmm... I haven't taken out a loan since my father passed on and left me his title and estate so my debts have been paid... I have political rivals but none that would stoop so low as to steal from me, well, maybe only from our weekly gambling nights at the Yacht Club... But that crucifix... Ah, yes, it was in an exposé on the treasures of my family by a historian a few months ago, a rather enhtralling piece that taught me things about my family I never thought I would expect..." answered Buford
"Thank you your Lordship, we'll be off then, I hope we find your stolen property soon..." replied Gunnarson
"I wish you luck Gunnarson" responded Buford as he went back to his paperwork while the duo went on down to Scotland Yard...
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 2, 2018 3:16:20 GMT -5
Catching a cab, the two proceeded to discuss the case, "He's taking the death of his wife rather well" Gunnarson observed.
"It's been two years, I think he's been able to find peace" Hartley assured.
"A fair assessment. But, then, who would break into Buford's estate?" Gunnarson pondered.
"Could this be the work of Augustus Huffman? He did break into that mansion, so it was a similar target" Hartley pointed out.
"Yes, but I don't think it was him; he used a crowbar to break the window, remember? Though I wouldn't be surprised if it was Kaiden Alexander; there's something about it that does strike me as it being his work" Gunnarson mused.
"Don't be ridiculous; you saw the papers he only steals cash; besides, it's too far from his neck of the woods" Hartley pointed out.
"Very true. But it doesn't change the fact that we're talking about a skilled burglar; this wasn't a two-bit crook" Gunnarson concluded.
They were silent for the rest of the trip until they got to Scotland Yard. They came up to the front desk.
"Hello... oh, it's you" the officer said, rather neutrally towards Gunnarson. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"Is Detective Sergeant Beck or Detective Inspector Davis available? I need to speak to one of them" Gunnarson asked; remembering the only two burglary detectives that still liked him.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Dec 2, 2018 9:11:51 GMT -5
"Let me see... Davis is out on a case, but Beck is here. Let me see if he'll talk to you," he said, pressed down a buzzer.
The reply came in the positive and the officer pointed Gunnarson and Hartley in the direction of Beck's office. "Straight down the hall, take a left, and there should be a sign that says 'BURGLARY' right around the corner. Can't miss it."
Gunnarson thanked him and followed the directions straight to Detective Sergeant Beck. The man rose from his desk to meet the Swedish PI.
"Ah, Gunnarson, how nice to see you!" he said, grasping the detective's hand.
"The same with you," said Gunnarson. "This is my associate, Mr. Hartley."
Beck should Hartley's hand to, and the three sat down to business. "Now, gentlemen, what brings you here?" asked the Sergeant.
Gunnarson began. "Well..."
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Post by Toz76 on Dec 2, 2018 15:44:12 GMT -5
"We've got a bit of a mystery on our hands."
Gunnarson outlined the details of the case briefly.
"A crucifix, eh?" Beck asked. "I remember reading something about that in the papers a while back..."
"Yes, Buford mentioned something about that. I don't suppose you have a copy? It might contain some valuable clues."
"I'll see if there's one in our archives." Beck replied.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 3, 2018 0:59:21 GMT -5
Beck got up and went to go search the files they had on hand for this matter... hopefully it would not take long.
"I still don't get how we are supposed to proceed from here" Hartley stated.
"Well, if I learned anything from my past... I must not let hunches get the best of me anymore... I will solve this case relying on the facts of the matter at hand" Gunnarson swore.
"Anything I can do to help" Hartley asked.
"Yes... if I get too caught up in a hunch, I want you to whisper "remember the matchbox" to me right away" Gunnarson explained.
"Matchbox? Whatever are you going on ab... oh, that matchbox" Hartley realized, thinking back to the Cromwell case when Gunnarson, ahem, very nearly falsified evidence.
Beck came back a while later with some articles relating to the crucifix, "lucky for you one of the detectives was attached to a case involving it a while back; saved some articles on it" Beck explained.
"What kind of case?" Gunnarson asked.
"Sorry; that's need to know only" Beck explained.
"Fair enough" Gunnarson said as he began reading. "Hartley, do me a favor and fill in the police on the case at hand; I imagine they will respond better to someone who isn't under "greater discretion" if you will" Gunnarson explained.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Dec 9, 2018 23:37:15 GMT -5
"But aren't we reporting the crime now?" Hartley asked, confused.
"No, we are consulting with a detective on the matter. Go talk to the constables and have an official report filed for the crime" Gunnarson clarified.
"Oh, I see" Hartley replied, getting up to go back to the front desk. He ended up passing by the homicide office. Curiosity got the better of him though, and he ended up stepping in and approaching one of the desks.
"Hello" he said to the detective in question, who then looked up.
"Oh, Hartley, hello. Wasn't expecting you to be here; what's going on?" He asked.
"Just going to report a crime; but I wanted to see how you've been since the injuries, Walton" Hartley explained.
"Much appreciated; I'd say I'm at about 90 percent by now. He left a few bruises, but honestly J.J.E. couldn't have expected to do much to me; I've fought nazis far tougher than him and come out on top; don't even get me started on those damn Waffen-SS..." he began.
"Ahem" Hartley interrupted.
"Oh, sorry. Yes, I am doing fine. Bit the bullet while I was out and finally read one of your volumes; I love how you depicted the lead in Baleros, very fitting" Walton thanked.
"Well, I had great sources for information on that one; more importantly I'm glad to see you're doing well" Hartley offered.
"Indeed. Been doing desk work as of late, but just you wait, I'll be back in the field soon enough" Walton assured.
"Good to hear. Oh, the baby..." Hartley began.
"Nora says it'll be another two or three weeks; still can't believe it, you know? Just never thought it would happen" Walton said, showing a noticeably softer side to himself than in the past.
"Right... well, I'll be off then" Hartley said as he left the room... he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, to be perfectly honest. Probably best to just move on, he reasoned.
Meanwhile...
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Post by Tug on Jan 6, 2019 23:53:52 GMT -5
Gent was debating something, something he never expected he would...
'Should I do it?' he thought to himself
Gent was currently in his office, staring at the recent newspaper in front of him...
Commissioner Gent... Has He Overstayed His Welcome?
It was an opinion column submitted anonymously about his career as an officer and later Commissioner, wither various interviews of people wondering if he was necessary any longer after the Irish Mob's fall.
'Is this... The will of the people?' he questioned to himself, 'is it time I finally retire?'
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Jan 7, 2019 0:27:33 GMT -5
He had to admit- Having been in the position nearly a decade his term had been roughly the length of many of his predecessors before him. Not only that, but many of the faces that he had come to see as Public enemy #1- Dr. Drugg, Ryan O'Connor, Elvira Revinev... they were all gone now. And yet, he knew he could not leave office just yet. Not until one last major face was brought to justice. Walking up to a row of pictures on a board, many had been crossed out... except for one.
"Lionel Kenneth... it's you preventing me from retiring. The hammer of justice will fall on you when the time is right. Only then can I leave office" he reasoned before returning to his work.
......
"And that's the story so far; does any of that resemble prior cases, Beck?" Gunnarson asked.
"Hold on, I think I do recall something like that" Beck said as he went over to some files. He picked them out then walked back to the desk. "In the past 3 weeks there's been a few burglaries with a similar M.O. Lone assailant, targets wealthy victims, causes minimal damage, steals a single yet valuable item, then flees" Beck explained as he laid out the files.
"Has there been any leads to the identity of this man?" Gunnarson asked.
"You know how Walton has an information network?" Beck asked.
"Yes" Gunnarson nodded.
"We called in a favor to him while he's stuck on desk duty. We've only got rumors though."
"Rumors?" Gunnarson asked, confused.
"Yea, apparently the thief goes by... Dukes... Duce... Doix...Deluce... Doux? I don't know, but it sounded French. Probably an alias. Anything you can make sense of?" Beck asked.
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Post by Tug on Jan 9, 2019 21:07:15 GMT -5
"From my limited knowledge of French, it seems to mean either 'soft' or 'gentle', so the alias seems to refer to his skills to steal undetected... It might be a good idea to contact INTERPOL to see if they have any records of a criminal under that title." replied Gunnarson
"Right, I'll see to it that it's done, but I wonder what's next on his agenda..." wondered Beck
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Jan 9, 2019 21:36:53 GMT -5
Gunnarson looked over a map of the city, and seemed to notice a bit of a pattern to the burglaries. “It seems he’s heading in a Northeastern direction, a couple kilometers or so separate the locations. So going by this pattern... beck, you happen to know who lives here?” Gunnarson said as he indicated a sizable house.
“Only because I pass it on my way to work; Oscar Pollman; he made a fortune in the war in the scrap business” Beck explained
“Pollman? I heard his name in the paper a few days ago. But where did I... oh no!” Gunnarson said in shock.
“What is it?” Beck asked
“Pollman recently won an 18th century portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte in an art auction, spent a substantial amount and it made the papers. No doubt the kind of prize a thief would want” Gunnarson reasoned.
“You sure?” Beck asked
“It may be my only chance to stop him before he strikes” Gunnarson said as he left. He passed by Hartley and quickly explained the situation
“But I’m still filing the report!” He pointed out.
Unwilling to lose more time, Gunnarson explained “as soon as you finish the report, take a cab to this address” Gunnarson said as he wrote down an address on a piece of paper. He then left to get a cab himself
With traffic, it took Gunnarson an hour to get to Oscar Pollman’s house. Practically running, he went up to his door and knocked on it. The businessman emerged some time later. “Can I help you?” He asked
“Mr Pollman, my name is Adolf Gunnarson, and I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I have very strong evidence suggesting you are going to be the victim of a burglary very soon” Gunnarson said, in between catching his breath.
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Post by Toz76 on Jan 9, 2019 23:42:18 GMT -5
Gunnarson quickly laid out his suspicions. But to his surprise, Mr. Pollman seemed dismissive.
"Look, pal, burglars are smart. They aren't gonna steal the famous painting that's been in the papers, because how are they gonna sell it? If someone stole the Mona Lisa and tried to sell it, no one would buy it, because the only thing you can do with a painting is hang it somewhere nice, and you obviously can't hang a stolen painting."
"Maybe he isn't a smart criminal. Maybe he's after something other than the painting. But the point is- there's a clear pattern here." Gunnarson protested.
"I've got half a dozen guards on the premises. I appreciate the concern, but we'll be fine."
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Jan 10, 2019 2:34:03 GMT -5
“I tried to warn you... I only hope you know what you are doing” Gunnarson sighed before thanking him for his time and leaving.
Pollman went into his house and proceeded to have a seat. He was certainly surprised when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“I must say- I was tempted by the painting, I really was” the voice on the other line said
“Who are you?” Pollman asked, confused
“I could have made a nice profit off it, but in the end I decided to take something a bit more practical. Do you have the time by chance?” The voice asked
“Well it’s... oh hang on, my watch isn’t on me. Let me see its... what?” Pollman said in confusion. The ormolu clock that was on his mantle was gone. Standing up and looking around, it was clear the clock was gone. Shaken, he said into the phone “what have you done?”
“Nothing, just having a little fun. Thanks for the clock by the way; I hope it’s new owner enjoys it like you did” the voice on the other end said before hanging up.
“Good lord... Gunnarson was right” he said in shock. But who was this man who would do such a thing? And “just having a little fun;” what did that even mean?
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Post by Tug on Jan 17, 2019 20:41:34 GMT -5
As Gunnarson stood by the curb, Hartley approached the man by pulling up next to him with the car, and as Gunnarson entered the vehicle, Hartley began to wonder something...
"Oh, Gunnarson, it seems you never told me the suspect's name Detective Beck gave you, I was wondering if you would share it?" asked Hartley
"Oh, it seemed to be a French pseudonym, like 'Doux' or something..." replied Gunnarson
"Doux? No, it can't be... There's no way..." mumbled Hartley
"Is there something wrong Hartley?" asked Gunnarson with noticeable concern
"It's nothing, just... It reminds me of something, memories of the war I rather forget..." answered a stoic Hartley
"Oh, my apologies then..." responded Gunnarson as Hartley started the car and the duo drove in complete silence the whole way back...
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Jan 17, 2019 20:59:26 GMT -5
Hartley was stuck, reminiscing about the memories that came back to him. It gnawed at him so much though, eventually he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Gunnarson.. what I’m about to tell you, you cannot repeat to anyone else” Hartley said with a sigh.
“Ok... I’m listening” Gunnarson acknowledged
Hartley then proceeded to recount a memory of his time in the war. Not too long before pulling out of Europe Hartley pulled off a daring rescue that unfortunately was never acknowledged by high command due to a lack of witnesses.
One day while marching, Hartley had become separated from the rest of his platoon due to a Stuka raid... as he tried to navigate back to friendly territory he stumbled upon a German outpost where French POW’s wee being held. Sensing the urgency, Hartley took note of the situation and made a plan.
That night, he snuck past the German guards still awake and proceeded to free the Frenchmen. Most were members of the French resistance and fled into the night. But one man seemed to be more... intriguing than the rest.
“I thank you for freeing me; but I must insist you leave now- I wouldn’t want you around for what is about to happen” he explained
They exchanged conversation just a little while longer before Hartley did in fact leave. After he reunited with his platoon and informed his superiors about the camp, they proceeded to head back to it- only to find the Germans scattered and any worthwhile intelligence gone
Hartley himself only found a single note on a table.... addressed to him.
“Not sure if you’ll find this, but on the chance you do- just wanted to say thank you... I owe you one... Monsieur Doux”
......
“Are you saying this is the same man?” Gunnarson asked
“I don’t know. This doesn’t sound like a path he would walk down though. Unless... am I misremembering him? That accident that sent me home could have affected my memory” Hartley reasoned.
“Nonsense- you’re still coherent and can remember childhood memories, yes? Then all should be fine. Now Hartley, please, calm down and try to remember more.clearly.. does anything at all stick out in your recollection? What else do you remember about Doux?” Gunnarson asked
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