And while Elginbrod and Doubleday, deflated and with his body slumped and sloping quaquaversally, spoke, in the Interview room in the Grassmarket and Cowgate Community Policing Hub last night, in Berlin in 1939, Gertie Mountcastle and Palestrina MacFarlane dined with J Alfred Prufrock, discreetly and unheard and unobserved, and discussed Vlado Chernozemski, the Bulgarian Assassin: "he's secreted himself in a small house on the Wannsee, hiding in plain sight, you might say, among a number of the high-ranking Nazis. I spoke with him this morning," said Prufrock, astonishing the two women at his apparently supernatural powers of Mental Detection; "how did you find him?" asked Gertie, "what did he say?" came from Palestrina, "oh it was easy enough," admitted Prufrock, "I knew that he had, or should I say 'has', a fondness, little short of an addiction, for a particular brand of Black Russian cigarettes, which are fortunately only available from the Grimm Brothers shop on Prince Rupprecht Strasse and I hung about there for a few days; when he appeared he looked exactly like that photograph of his, the one in which he resembles a Cossack, with the fur-collared greatcoat and jack-boots – I'm rather surprised that Heydrich hasn't found him yet, he is so casually indiscreet, for a Bulgarian Assassin who is on every Gestapo Watch-list, but there it is, he hasn't, and I've listened to the recordings of Heydrich and Himmler and the hunt goes on; anyway, I followed him home, checked with neighbours, and he's holed up with a blonde actress – Olga Konstantinovna Chekhova – who's a favourite with Goebbels, he owns the house but is far too busy at the moment to dilly-dally with her and she has become bored and was almost literally swept off her feet by the dashing Chernozemski – of course, he's using another name, calls himself Leopold Bloom for some reason best known to himself; I must admit that I suspect she is a Soviet asset but that's by-the-by – she seems flighty and fluffy, quite flagrantly so, and fragrantly too, but that's a front, she's rather like a trangam, or a Chinese Puzzle, boxes within boxes, and managing all her different affairs and keeping them secret from the Doctor, is proof of a steely sort of determination, although I wouldn't put it past Chernozemski to be able to use her to get near Prince Paul of Yugoslavia on his visit to Berlin, which starts tomorrow, indeed he may also be a Soviet agent and it wouldn't surprise me if neither was aware of the other, that's the downside of the Russian Left Hand/Right Hand way of working, oft-times their two Controllers can be equally in the dark; now, I think we'll have the itinerary tonight, but for the nonce, as you Brits are wont to say, we need to decide our priorities: my money is on Chernozemski to lead us to Count Baldur von Machfleine and Dietrich Doopeltag, they have gone Dark and the Bulgarian is probably their only friend in town and the only person who knows where they are stashed; Prince Hubertus will be joining us in about half an hour and will bring us up to speed on Prince Paul: we need to be close to him because I think he is the flame the moths will be dancing around, though we'll have to avoid Himmler's goons who'll also be there in force; it could be an absolute farce, or a sublime ballet, if we can only get our steps right: "whaddaya say girls? is it time for a paean to the joys of Bacchus?" and Pal laughed, "another Martini for me, please, Alfie, and I'll sing for my supper," and Gertie asked for a Pink Gin, hoping that it might keep her head clear!