A conversation between the intrepid, but very tired and shaken, investigators, January 10, 1927.
"What a party that was!" Mackenzie MacNamara was of course referring to the New Years' party thrown by Frau Clare Bonhofer's extravagant friend Ramon Hofstädter at the Haus Hofstädter with some fifty guests from the Berlin cultural and/or queer elite, sort of. "Just imagine, Felix Jeremiah almost being smooched by that fat Nazi, Ernst Röhm." Felix Jeremiah glared at Mackie. "I was not amused. His compund stench of alcohol, tobacco, and cheap perfume clung to me for hours afterwards. And remember, our friend Hubert Bosch at the Berlin Polizei told us to lie low for a bit after the explosion at the Nollendorf abattoir. Ha!"
Hubert Bosch of the Berlin Polizei (NOT at the party).
Ramon Hofstädter and Ernst Röhm.
Frau Bonhofer chimed in: "You know that Ramon used to be the em-cee of the El Dorado Club, and he was quite known for hosting lavish and deliciously decadent private parties. I, for one, very much enjoyed putting out lit cigarettes with my trusty Peitsche, not to mention using my Peitsche to disrobe that dastardly fellow Ramon." Franz Alter looked terrified and disgusted when Frau Bonhofer mentioned her antics. He left the living room to was his long, gaunt hands. Meanwhile, Howard Lake was trying to pick out a cigarette from his silver cigarette case, but he fumbled and spilled out the contents. Cursing while picking up the contents with shaky hands, he added: "Mackie I saw how you looked rather hungrily at that fashionista and designer, Birgitte La Perla." Mackie looked indignant. "Should I? She was only in need of some, well, counselling. She did actually have some really relevant questions regarding this... occult mess we've been encountering over the last couple of years. Sg4he had actually heard of us and some of our findings, and she wanted advice regarding horrible nightmares that had been recurring for some time and left her imagination quite dry. Not a good thing for a fashion designer. And then I think she may have introduced me to Siegwald von Mansfeld, the guy who asked me about an artifact, a statuette of a faceless pharaoh in black stone. That's how we ended up at his Krummbeck manor outside Rostock.
Brigitte La Perla and Siegwald von Mansfeld.
"I had a really good time, though." Moira Baker smiled and gazed upwards. The food, the ten-man (and woman!) band, the celebrities, like Conrad Veidt, Asta Nielsen, and Thea von Harbou. What a nutter she is by the way! Almost as brown as Röhm. I'd say. It only took a bottle of champagne or two to get the Nationalists flailing about. Well, verbally, at least. And Hofstädter had a fountain in his apartment!"
Asta Nielsen, Thea von Harbou, and Conrad Veidt.
"And that's how you ended up outside Rostock, at Krummbeck Manor. I see." Jules Pollack had missed out both on the party and the dreadful events some days later, since he'd been both down with a cold and then fully occupied with the Zukunst store close Nollendorfplatz, the occult, fine arts, and bric-a-brac store managed by Moira Baker in outlandish gypsy garb.
"Yes, and then just after recuperating from our New Years' hangovers we travelled north, to Rostock on the Baltic Sea." Lake was still fumbling with his cigarettes as Franz Alter reappeared. "You were not suffering, Mr. Lake. I had made sure of that. You are making this up. I take care of all good suffering." The room went quiet for a second or two as Franz Alter looked at all of the Intrepid Investigators. Lake dropped his cigarette case again. Jules coughed. "So, you were off to Krummbeck Manor outside Rostock?" Mackie picked up the lead. "Yes, and we were met by Siegwald von Mansfeld, and we had a very nice evening, even if the weather was atrocious. Atrocious, I'm telling you! And then strange things started happening. Suffice to say, it seems as if Siegwald had been told by his batshit crazy mother (in the attic, of course) to bring home fresh meat for her to consume. We were the appetizer, main course, and dessert in one serving. Well, Felix was the appetizer of course." Felix rolled his eyes as Mackie laughed at her own joke. "May I remind you", Felix interjected with a raised finger, "that we very well might have been turned into morsels. Remember Siegwald's ox-like and half-witted brother, Gustave? It was touch and go there for a bit, and it seemed as if the mother claimed that she was receiving instructions from some dark-skinned..." Mackie interrupted: "Yes, the statuette, right. And then we torched the place, and now we're back here in Franz Alter's mansion in Grünewald!"
Krummbeck Manor during happier times.
