Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

Once Elspeth had settled herself and apologised for her outburst (which I, of course, shrugged off; what else was a chap to do if he wanted to prevent staring down a tiger once more?) we set about looking to find something to fend off rising hunger pangs. It was hardly a surprise that there was not much food in the house to provide some form of repast. These days, Merrick - poor soul that he was - was reduced to eating broths and soups and whilst there were various meats in the small ice cellar and some potted meats in the cupboards, neither seemed appetizing. They took on an especially unappetizing air when Elspeth pointed out that she was quite sure that she had never seen nor smelled cuts of meet quite like these in cook's kitchen.

Then I had a thought. I was sure that there must be a fish-and-chipperie nearby! No longer did one have to travel to the seaside, for such wonderful purveyors of marine munch-ables had been popping up over the capital and indeed across the country for many years now. The rate at which this comestible of Portuguese-Jewish origin had become part of the national diet was truly remarkable.

Elspeth thought this a grand plan, as did Charlotte. She was now free from any telephony and had bounced through the door to see what was happening just as we were discussing my idea. When she said the word 'fish' (and she was saying it quite a lot), it seemed to be much longer than a four letter word with many more 'aitches' involved.

Leaving the two of them together to sort out the laying of the table and whatnot, I set off, but not before looking in upon Merrick to see how he was now faring.

He looked up. 'Oh, Knolly! I thought it was If.. Err ... Charlotte coming back.'

'Are you all right now John? You gave us all a bit of a scare earlier you know.'

'Yes, yes, fine thank you. Um ... You and Elspeth ... You were quite loud. Charlotte was quite perturbed.'

'I think it’s all to do with the changes. The onset of parenthood and all that,' I replied quietly.

'Ah!' Merrick's simple answer summed up a wealth of issues.

'I’m off out to find a fish and chip shop!' I said, trying to brighten the conversation.

'Nothing in the kitchen you fancied, then?' asked Merrick.

'Oh, Err ... Um,' I replied with a little embarrassment.

John gave me a lopsided smile. 'Knolly, it’s quite all right. I get fed up with soup and I’m well aware that a feline's tastes are not to everyone's liking.'

'Indeed, but it would seem that she is quite taken with the idea of a piece of fish.'

There came the sound of a plate hitting the floor, followed by an angry hiss, followed by an 'Oh! Charlotte!'

'That,' I said to Merrick, 'will be my cue to leave. I suggest you busy yourself with the diary while you have it to yourself. I shan't be too long.'

Grabbing my coat and hat, I stepped out of the door and into London's early afternoon air. Composing myself on the steps I took time to look about me for any suspicious-looking characters who might have been keeping me under observation. I was still at a loss as to how anyone could have tapped into our wired conversation and hoped that Hobbes, Bertie or Merrick could shed light on that in due course. As I set off, I suddenly realised that I had no idea where to find what I sought! I wondered if I should have brought Charlie with me; her keen sense of smell would have found us a place in double-quick time. Or perhaps I just wanted some extended time out of the house to clear my mind?

I decided that the best direction would be towards London’s theatre district, and so I headed toward Drury Lane via Tottenham Court Road. These were busy thoroughfares and it would prove easy to dodge any potential pursuers.

I bumbled along, taking care to avoid the largest of the now-drying puddles. I was getting further away from Merrick's and had not caught sight of any eateries. I then espied a mother and her children coming out of an alleyway clutching a small steaming parcel each. The smell of fried food wafted over to me. Excellent!

The smell of food unfortunately got the better of me; had I been thinking clearly, I should not have wandered down such a restricted route .... and so it was that I found my way suddenly blocked.

'Afternoon, good sir! Looking for something special are we?'

The woman before me had the appearance of a higher-class of streetwalker, being clearly well-dressed and having face and hands that showed that she practised self-hygiene. Perhaps she was a lady experimenting with her wanton side.

I doffed my hat and smiled.

'Please excuse me madam. I am indeed in search of something special. I intend to indulge in some fish and chips.'

'I've never heard it called that before,' she said with a smile and a wink.

'I am in rather a hurry. And permit me to say, but do you not think that you should be at home?'

I made to move past but the alley was narrow and she threw her foot up against the wall to block my way with a very fetching well-proportioned stockinged leg; she caught me staring.

'Having a good look are we sir? That’ll cost you extra.'

'What? Good Lord! No! You have it all wrong. Now let me pass through, please.'

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see a gentleman rushing towards us.

'You got him? Good,' said the chap quietly. 'The Captain’s got the other end so we won't be disturbed.'

I stared. It wasn’t a man! It was a woman dressed in a very masculine manner - tweed jacket, plus fours and a tie. She did not look happy.

Curses! I was trapped and armed with nothing but my wits. I quickly thought of a cunning way to extricate myself from this potential pickle.

'I .... er ..... think you must have the wrong man?'

This was given short shrift and I doubled over, the result of being kneed in the groin by the aforementioned shapely leg. Gasping for breath, I was hauled upright by the newest arrival and positioned so that we were face to face.

'Commander Knolly, you are a meddler, and your little gang are meddlers. You should stick to Naval Intelligence ... ' There was a giggle from the prettier of the two as she rearranged her skirts and pulled forth a revolver '.. and leave the Defence of the Empire from phantasmagorical threats to us.'

I coughed and spluttered. 'You know who I am?'

'Indeed we do,' whispered the more feminine of the two as she leveled the gun at my temple. 'And you have wasted too much of our time already.'

'We have tried to be nice and go through the proper channels, but it all leads back to you.' her companion continued.

I looked from one assailant to another through watery eyes. 'Really? I am most flattered.'

There was a click as the pistol was cocked.

'You have something we need. Your immediate superior has tried to delay and so we have to take a more direct approach, I’m afraid.'

The air whooshed out of me as I was struck in the stomach and I found myself on my knees.

'An answer, please. It just doesn’t do to keep ladies waiting.'

'What do you want?' I gasped.

'The file, the Y-file. We know that you were discussing it with your scientist friend and the buffoon.'

I winced at both the physical assault and the verbal assault on poor Bertie. He has his moments, but he is never a buffoon. Just who were these harpies?

'You’ll find the Y-file is on its way back to where it belongs, touchwood.' I said tapping the side of my head and smiled. This just made them angrier. The one with the pistol took aim.

'You seek to make fun of us, sir?'

Not for the first time, I stared down the barrel of a gun. Was this to be the bullet with my name on it?

'Ladies, time to go!' came a cry from the entrance to the alley.

My captors looked at each other and then back at me.

'Time we were going Commander. Under other circumstances it might have been a pleasure,' smiled the faux-streetwalker as she made her pistol safe, stowed it back beneath her skirts and then stroked my face with her fair, perfumed hands.

'Keep out of our way Knolly,' said her companion, 'or you’ll find yourself posted away from your wife - permanently!'

I struggled to stand up but was pushed back down by a sensible shoe. I watched the pair of assailants stride off arm in arm towards their hidden accomplice and was left looking at a playbill advertising the arrival at a nearby theatre of up-and-coming American entertainers Fanny May and Freddie Mac (whose prestigious finale, I understood, is a trick that makes large sums of money disappear). It was rather a sad indictment on today's society that no one had come to my rescue. I had hoped that perhaps Baddick may have ridden to my rescue, but no such luck. This adventure was hotting up day by day and I considered that it was becoming necessary to be armed at all times from this moment on.

The smell of fried food was compelling. I got up and brushed myself, the knees of my trousers were now very muddy to say the least, but I did locate my hat. Thankfully, I did not look too out of place as I queued up for my instant meal, and the warmth of that shop soon made me feel much better all over.

The walk back to Merrick's abode was much slower than I would have liked, but then my stomach was still sore. Fortunately, the area between my legs had now regained some sense of normality. I had hardly got my hand to the door to knock when it was flung open before me.

'Excellent! Food!' It was Hobbes! 'Do you have enough for an extra mouth?' he cried ebulliently as he grabbed my steaming parcels and pushed me past him towards Elspeth.

'Hobbes! How? Why? Is Bertie here too?'

Hobbes smiled through a mouthful of chipped potatoes which gave his moustache a whole new life.

'He turned up alone by cab shortly after you left. He was intent on chasing after you until John showed him the diary,' said Elspeth. She looked at me head on one side. 'You took rather longer than I thought. What happened to your trousers? Did you have a fall?'

I waved a hand. 'I’m fine. I shall explain all in a minute. But first, let us have some food before Hobbes scoffs the lot. Come on!'

We pitched up at Merrick's meagre table for our feast - John with his soup and the rest of us with fish and chips. Charlie wanted to eat her fish off of the floor, but Elspeth managed to cajole her back onto a chair although she couldn’t yet see any use for a knife and fork. We all decided to eat with our fingers to put her at her ease, except for John of course – have you ever tried to eat cock-a–leekie without a spoon?

'So, Hobbes,' I said 'What have you learned from seeing the diary first hand?'

'No Knolly that can wait. What happened to you?' he asked.

'I met some very direct ladies,' I replied.

Hobbes laughed rather too loudly. 'Nothing new there then!' he guffawed.

Elspeth, Merrick and Charlie looked at him; he went an interesting purple colour as he started to choke on a piece of potato product.

'Sorry,' he eventually apologised. 'Spending too long in Berties’ company ....'

'You go out for food and meet ladies?' asked Elspeth. 'What did they want?' sneered Elspeth.

'Quite simply, they wanted The Y-File. They thought that we had been discussing it earlier...'

'So, they had linked in to our telephonic conversation?' added Merrick.

'It would appear so, although they didn’t say as much. They were more interested in warning The League and myself away from any further investigation.'

'So, who were they?' enquired Hobbes.

I finished chewing. 'Apparently, they are the darlings of the Empire, defenders against anything phantasmagorical and they seem to work on the premise that any means justifies the end.'

'Oh, dearie me!' said Merrick and Hobbes as one.

Elspeth, with her head down, said quietly. 'This is a very poor situation.'

We all looked at her.

'I wanted cod. This is haddock...'

The Great Knolly Archive

09.10.08 Front Page

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