"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." He stood to leave, to return to the restaurant and to hopefully a hot breakfast waiting for him.

In reply to Jacob Fleury (msg # 146):

Jacob's food was in fact waiting for him under a metal dish cover. So was Katrina.

"I told them to put the cover on to keep it warm", Katrina said, "What was the message?"

Arriving at the table the information he'd learned, and how to proceed, was still percolating in his mind. "Oh, thank you for that," he replied, indicating the covered breakfast.

He removed the lid and set it aside. "Well, I've been informed the professor I was supposed to meet at Karl Marx University, Manfred Wendell, has suffered a heart attack. He's at University Hospital and things don't look too good. Visiting hours aren't till this afternoon."

He took up his utensils and began to pick at the food. "I'm just wondering now if my trip has been rendered for naught."

Katrina looked concerned at this.

"Sorry to hear that. I think I've met the Professor before... yes, at a function there. He seemed to be a nice man. You're going there for research, right?"

Her own plate had been cleared and she had nearly finished her coffee.

Interesting. A lie? Or a sudden remembrance of a meeting at a party?

When they first began to converse on the train, Katrina had told him the name Manfred Wendell meant nothing to her. Now, she recalls meeting him at a party, and he made enough of an impression on her that she thought of him as a nice man. If he'd made that kind of an impression on her, wouldn't she have remembered at least meeting him when asked on the train? Furthermore, she'd stated she'd only been to Karl Marx University to occasionally visit its library. Now, she says she was at the university for this party wherein she met Wendell.

Yes, she had lied to him earlier. But why?

He began to eat his breakfast in hardy bites, having noticed she had finished hers. He was proceeding with caution, not that he wasn't before. He decided to see if she remembered anything else about the man he was supposed to contact, Manfred Wendell. The man was a mystery to him.

"Yes, for research. You met him at a party. I suppose he has a background to some extent in economics, then?"

"No, not that I think so. He was talking about 19th century German literature, I believe. The function was a party to mark our country's 15th anniversary. I only just remembered it."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:58, Tue 19 Nov 2019.

"I see. Well, can you remember his age, what he looked like, or anything else about him? I must say I'm quite curious now, and I doubt I'll see his true personality at the hospital, he may not even be able to speak."

Katrina scratched her head slightly.

"Early 60s, balding, half-moon glasses. I had quite a bit of Blue Strangler so things were rather a blur. Especially later in the evening."

Well, she likes to drink, he thought. Seems a few in East Germany like to drink--can't blame them. Getting them drunk might be an option somewhere down the road, to either loosen tongues or ... other things.

He assumed Blue Strangler was a drink. He could be wrong. "I see. Hmm, well he certainly seems to fit the typical description of a literature professor."He continued to consume his breakfast, saying little else. Since she had finished hers, he ate not fast, but not too slow either, so as to not keep her waiting longer than necessary.

When he was done he said, "Well, looks like it's time for the bill."

He thought about his next step--go to the university, perhaps? Become acquainted with his accommodations? Maybe Katrina had something in mind...?
This message was last edited by the player at 15:52, Fri 22 Nov 2019.

The waiter came over with the bill, a total of 10 Marks. Katrina paid it with her own money and then put on her coat.

"You've still got to register with the police. The headquarters should be open now. I'll have to ask for directions though. It's not like I've had much call to visit it."

"I would hope not. It doesn't seem like it would be a pleasant experience." He thanked her for breakfast and stood to leave. As she rose he held the seat out for her and smiled, eyes flirty and inviting. "On to the police station--I'm such a romantic!"

Stepping outside the station, Jacob found himself standing next to half of a six lane road. Unlike in the West, there was rather little traffic and very few of the vehicles were recognisable on an American street. A pair of buses went past, followed by a truck.

In the middle of the road were a pair of tram tracks, with a cream coloured tram carriage with pantograph raised pulling another carriage without one. It was sitting at a tram stop, loading and unloading passengers. It then rang a bell before moving again.

There was also a distinct smell in the area. Like coal...

Katrina smiled.

"We'll ask at the tram stop over there."

Nothing lends more to a romantic mood than the smell of coal in the air, he thought, obviously sarcastically. He followed her advice and headed for the tram cars.

Once there, he asked someone who looked like they may have common sense as to the location of the police station.

In reply to Jacob Fleury (msg # 158):

He found himself talking to a middle aged gentleman wearing a fedora, who was holding a rolled up newspaper. He seemed happy to help.

16:19, Today: Jacob Fleury rolled 6 using 1d12.  Luck Roll.

The man knew where it was. Jacob would have to walk around the edge of the city centre and (handily enough) past the university to get to the central police station. It would take him about 20 minutes to walk. The tram was another option, but that would not go past the university.

"Are you up for a walk?" he asked Katrina. "The police station is a twenty minute walk from here." He turned the collar up on his jacket and checked the sky. Hopefully, no rain was in the forecast. "It will take us past the university, so I'll at least get a lay of the land en route and learn where I'm staying."

With that, he led Katrina in the direction the man indicated. He would thoroughly check his surroundings as he walked. His training and natural instincts were on alert for followers or those who seemed to be giving him more than an average interest.

The two of them crossed over to the other side of the road for the start of their walk.

Katrina saw a poster for a musical recital and pointed it out to him. It had a picture of a violin playing man called Tadeusz Sikorski.

"What do you have planned for tonight?" she asked, "I'm planning to go along to that."

"I really have no plans. I should get settled into whatever accommodations the university has prepared for me and then visit the professor. I don't know how long that will take, or what potential holdups may take place while I'm at each. I would hate to be late or have to cancel."

He was in an interesting position. Should he continue to put himself in the presence of someone who could certainly have him arrested, probably want to have him arrested, just so he could have a companion and perhaps satisfy a carnal desire; or leave her soon, charter a course alone, and quickly and succinctly wrap up this assignment?

He takes a long look at the poster. "This violinist is pretty good, I assume?"

Katrina nodded.

"Yes, he is," she replied, "A major childhood prodigy now hitting the bigtime. He's just come back from a tour in the West. Or he's coming back. I have some free tickets. Perks of the job. You serve the Party faithfully, it serves you faithfully."

As they continued to walk, a car drove past them at some considerable speed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:51, Tue 03 Dec 2019.

"What's his hurry, I wonder?" He attempts to identify the car and driver--make and model, get a license number and commit it to memory or as much of the license plate number as possible. It's probably nothing. But then, what if it is something? He'd prefer to know when he sees this car again.

He continues walking toward the police station, not saying too much. As they come within a dozen yards of the station he says, "Is there a way to get in touch with you, after I'm settled-in and visit the professor, in regards to tonight? I'd hate to promise going to a concert and then no-show."

"I'm staying at a hotel in the city centre", Katrina said as she carried along her suitcase, giving the name of the hotel. Give them a call when you're settled in."

"I'll do that. Well, looks like we're here." He entered the police station.

In reply to Jacob Fleury (msg # 168):

The car was going too quickly and putting out too much exhaust for Jacob to get an clear ID of any registration, or to see a brand name.

As Jacob entered the police headquarters, he saw a large twelve-pointed star with the emblem of East Germany on it next to the words 'German People's Police'.

He was in a fairly large reception area. Behind a wooden counter, a rather young man in grey-green uniform was making some notes on a pad out of sight when he saw Jacob enter and look up.

"Good morning", he said, "Can I help you?"

"Good morning. I believe I need to register with you. What documentation do you need from me?" He presented a cheery air, lightly smiling and maintaining the easy tone he'd had with Katrina.