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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 13:40:04 GMT -5
I came up with this after reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's short story of the same name. Basically, this is like the Story Game, except that you NEED to have a longish passage. No short ones allowed! Let's start it off:
Literary Mosaic 1
Murder of a Doctor It was the height of World War II. I was fighting hard in the British Army, trying to stop the Nazis. The noise was deafening, and I would often find myself in terror and homesick. During one of the battles, it happened - a shot rang out, and I felt a pain in my leg. I stumbled and fell. If it had not have been for my good friend John, I would surely have died. As it was, he saw me fall, rushed over, helped me to my feet, and brought me away from the danger zone.
After being dispatched from the army hospital, I was told that I could not fight for a good long while, at the least. So, I decided to return home. I sailed on a ship called the Friend across the sea. It was a nightmare. I get seasick quite easily, and the rolling waves forced me to stay in my cabin lying on the bunk for most of the trip. I was quite glad to get back to dry land. Unfortunately, my house had been destroyed during the Blitz, and so I found myself out on the London streets, with little money, looking for a place to stay.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 14:07:10 GMT -5
It was unbelievable, the news I had been hearing in recent weeks. Now that it was Mid-1941, the Nazis had effectively conquered Europe... except Switzerland, but they never get conquered anyway. Belgium, France, Poland... they've all fallen to Germany. Now the United Kingdom stands alone. I thought I could play my part, but now here I was, injured by the war, homeless, while all the other men were off fighting.
The news from a while back that the battleship Bismarck had been sunk was a morale boost to say the least... but the loss of Hood was a heavy cost.
Then I remembered... Roger, my brother. He was off in the Navy, but his family still lived in the house. I mean, I could ask if they could let me stay for a day or two, just to figure out what I'm going to do next. I'd better go now... if I'm every going to eat, I need to get some ration cards.
(sad but true)
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 14:20:52 GMT -5
As I walked to the town where Roger lived, I stopped before at an inn, and, just so that I knew that I was headed to the right place, I asked the innkeeper about him.
"Who? Roger Hartley? You didn't hear? Why, his family up and sold the place before when the Blitz became worse. They're now living in Scotland. By the way, why'd you want to know?"
"I'm his brother, and have just returned from the frontline, only to find my house was bombed."
"Ah, I see. Shame, really, all those damn Germans."
I thanked him, and then turned to go, when he suddenly said, "Say, I might have something for you. A foreigner - a Swede, I think - came in just this morning, wondering if I knew anyone that would like to share rooms. That might be what you're looking for."
"I'd be happy to meet him."
"Then it's settled. Let me just finish up, and I'll take you to him."
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 14:41:17 GMT -5
So I sat there, thinking. Clearly I had gotten lucky; this section of town didn't get hit that hard... at least, this street anyway. I hadn't been able to see that much recently.
The innkeeper finished cleaning up the tables then came up to me. "Sorry for the wait. Come on now, I'll show you where you can stay for now."
I could only think about my extended family... was there at least an address left behind that I could reach them? Roger always was the one who was good with girls... I could talk to them, but I never could work up the courage to ask one out. How does he do it? Already a wife and three kids and he's only..."
"Sir? Mr. Hartley?" the Innkeeper said.
"Oh... yes? Sorry, I was lost in thought." I said apologetically.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 15:16:56 GMT -5
So he brought me to a nice little apartment building. We walked up to the second floor, and the innkeeper knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" asked a voice with a Swedish accent.
"Mr. Gunnarson? It's the John Beacon, the innkeeper from the Red Devil's."
The 'Mr. Gunnarson' opened he door. He was of medium height, had blond hair, and a handlebar moustache.
"Hej! Hello! Welcome to my humble apartment."
"Hello, Mr. Gunnarson. You mentioned that would like to share rooms with someone to cut the cost. I've brought around someone that might be interested."
"James Hartley," I said, extending my hand.
"Adolf Gunnarson," said the man, doing the same.
"Adolf? Like..."
He looked a bit pained. "Ja, like the German. I am not to blame for my name, though."
"True."
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 15:25:35 GMT -5
"James here lost his house in the Blitz, and with no where to go he needs a place to stay" John said.
"Ah yes. Come in Mr. Hartley, I will show you around my apartment" and he gestured to let me into the room. This must be the living room; it wasn't big, but it was not small either. It was quite clean, and I could hear music coming from the radio.
"this is a nice place you have here" I said to Adolf. As I looked around, the one bedroom I could see had only one bed; I was not surprised, after all I think this apartment was meant for only one or two.
"Am I to sleep on the couch?" I asked politely.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 15:37:03 GMT -5
"If you wanted to, ja. I thought ahead, and the couch is actually a pull-out bed. So you won't be technically sleeping on the couch."
"And we would share the cost?"
"Yes."
"Seems alright. I'll give it a shot."
I turned to the innkeeper. "Many thanks."
"Quite welcome." And he left.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 15:48:40 GMT -5
As I settled into the apartment, it was not all that difficult to make myself at home. I only had the one suitcase of "civvies", and the military uniform I was wearing now, so I took a seat and looked at the bookshelf.
"Do you have any Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" I asked; I loved a good book, and it had been so long to me.
"Ya, third shelf" Adolf said as he walked towards the kitchen. I walked to the bookshelf and began looking.
"I've heard that you Englishmen enjoy a cup of tea; shall I go boil some water?" He asked me as he stood up and faced the kitchen.
I had just found a copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles when I heard his question.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 15:56:07 GMT -5
"If it's no bother, then I'd be happy to have some."
"Kommer rätt upp!"
I had already starting into the first chapter when he handed me a cup with tea.
"Thank you," I said.
"Quite welcome! I myself let a cup of chocolate."
"Interesting," I said, sipping my cup.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 16:14:28 GMT -5
(a cup of chocolate? Oh, as in hot chocolate?)
"What do you plan to do?" Adolf asked.
"I'm not sure really; my plan was to stick around for a little while, then try to make plans for what I was going to do next. but with my brother's family moved, that plan became complicated" I explained.
"Well, you are welcome here" he said to me.
"thank you; I think I will sit for a while, then I will head down to get my ration cards" I said, remembering that they were important.
"Ah yes, most food stuff is rationed now: bacon, butter and sugar, meat, tea, jam, biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk and canned and dried fruit. The only stuff not rationed it what people find disgusting, like whale meat" he said to me.
"Whale meat!?" I exclaimed in shock
(This is true, believe it or not)
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 16:22:58 GMT -5
"Yes; it is quite good though, makes for a nice steak."
"Hmm... maybe I ought to try it."
We sat there, as we drank from our cups.
"So," I said at last, "what are you? What made you decide to move to England?"
"I moved here because I can work on my occupation better here than in Sweden."
"What is your occupation?"
"Ah!" he said. "If you stick around, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 17:33:49 GMT -5
"Well, I will be sticking around for the time being." I said as I stood up. "thank you very much for the tea; but now I have to get going; I need to get my ration books from the distributor" I said as I began making my way for the door.
"I wonder if it is true what they've been saying? America still won't enter the war; just this "cash and carry" I've been hearing about." I said to myself; so much news recently, so little time to process it all.
"Say, what ship is your brother on?" Adolf said as I was walking to the door.
"Oh; HMS King George V; fine battleship it is; if I find it I'll show you a picture" I said as I was making my way to the door.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 17:45:19 GMT -5
"No need. But did you know that that was one of the ships that sunk the Bismarck?"
"Wow," I said, "that IS interesting."
I returned from getting my ration cards to find Gunnarson setting the table for supper.
"Something smells good," I said.
"It's a special recipe that my mother taught me. I hope you enjoy it."
I did indeed. It was a special type of...
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 17:58:03 GMT -5
(I hope I get this right; I looked up Swedish food)
...meatballs.
"These are Swedish meatballs; a bit different from the kind Italians make, but I hope you'll enjoy it" he said.
As I got ready, I was thinking back; it had been a few months since Bismarck was sunk, I was surprised I hadn't heard from Roger; surely I'd have gotten a letter about that incident? There was probably a lot going on, so I'll give him time.
As I went to sit down, he continued talking. "I hope you don't mind; I mostly know Swedish food. I was going to make Kroppkakor tomorrow" he said.
"What's that?" I asked
"A type of meat filled potato dumpling" he said back.
"Well, if it's still standing, I can show you some good English food; if I'm not mistaken there's a fish and chips shop still standing that i passed on the way here" I explained to him.
"Well, come on now, let's eat" he said as I began to sit down.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 18:31:52 GMT -5
It was delicious. I thoroughly enjoyed the Swedish meatballs; they were different, but, as many people say, different is good.
After we finished dinner, I washed the dishes, and then the two of us sat down in the living room and started to read.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Gunnarson went to open it. (Remember, they would usually call people by their last names here.)
"Yes?"
"Mr. Gunnarson?"
"Ah! Hej!" And he opened the door.
"Hartley," he said, "this is Davis Gent, the chief of police at Scotland Yard."
"Pleased to meet you," he said.
"Same," I replied.
"Now, what brings you here?" asked Gunnarson.
"Well, it's not a pretty business. A murder was committed up in King Street."
"A murder!" I cried.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 18:48:49 GMT -5
Being in war time was hard enough, but for there to be a murder during these troubled times... it was too much to fathom.
"Well, what is it?" Gunnarson asked.
"Well, the victim was Dr. Manning, but I think you should come and see for yourself." Gent explained.
"We'll have to finish our conversation later Hartley; duty calls" he said as he went to the rack to get his hat and coat.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 19:01:49 GMT -5
Then he turned round again.
"Actually, if you've got nothing better to do, and seeing as that you'll be here for a bit, why don't you come along?"
"Uh..."
"If it's alright with Gent, of course."
"Fine with me."
"Well... I've got nothing better to do, sure I'll come."
I got my coat, and we entered the cab.
"So are you a detective?"
"Yes. Not a police detective though, an inofficiella detektiv, an unofficial detective."
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 19:13:41 GMT -5
Our cab pulled up across from a dark alley; we exited the cab and payed the man as we approached. We entered the door into a well decorated room.
"Dr. Herbert Manning; a rather respected member of society with few known enemies; who would want him dead?" I said to myself; I knew him by name and face, but not personally.
Gent led us to the crime scene, by now secure. Gunnarson looked around. "Well whoever it was, it was someone Manning trusted." he observed.
"That's a rather fast conclusion; why say that?" I asked. he pointed to a table with a half-full bottle and two glasses
"Well, i don't know about you, but I don't think I'd sit down and enjoy a bottle of Merlot with a stranger" he said with a straight face.
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Post by Eyes on Mar 18, 2016 19:19:57 GMT -5
I gaped.
"Wow... I wouldn't have come up with that!"
"Ah well, we're all different."
We looked at the body. The man was sitting upright in his chair, but with a knife in his shoulder.
"Ouch," I said.
Gunnarson looked at the body. "Hmm..."
"Well, see anything?" asked Gent.
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Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 18, 2016 19:34:02 GMT -5
"Yes; killer made his first mistake. This knife he left behind, is bound to have fingerprints. I would suggest you carefully remove it, then look for prints" Gunnarson said as the officials complied. Looking closer at the victim, he made another conclusion.
"Well, whoever we are dealing with, he knows anatomy; look, he stabbed into the neck. Cut the airway, but not the artery. That's why there is less blood present than we would expect" he elaborated.
I stood back. Clearly he was in some sort of "mode" where he was able to figure out things by mere glance; best not to get in his way, I reasoned.
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