PLaying the Great Game

Warin Versessen

The envelope came to my rooms via messenger. Inside was the crisp white stationery the Juliet Parr uses to contact me.

"1138 St Johns Square, 10:30. Second floor library."

I pocketed the stationery and gathered my things. An electric torch in the inside jacket pocket, knuckle dusters in my outer pockets. I slipped my lock picks and gloves into the other inner pocket. I checked that my piano wire was in the inside band of my bowler hat. I picked up my walking stick and stepped smartly out into the foggy night.

What a fog! Nearly yellow soup stuff that swirled about me. Within ten strides I couldn't see my residence nor hear the screams from inside. The fog stank of chemicals and the effluvium of the humanity that lives nearby. Several of the night women I passed hacked and coughed breathing the stuff, I truly was thankful that I no longer had to.

St Johns square was several blocks away in a better part of town, so I was happy to walk it. This also made sure that I wasn't followed. Die ältesten Gewohnheiten lassen sich nur schwer ablegen. The oldest habits die hard. If only it hadn't been Berlin...

I came up to the steps of the house, a large affair. I can see at least three stories. The door is slightly ajar. As I step up to it, I hear my name softly in the night Warin.