"He may indeed be a lunatic," said J Alfred Prufrock, with a prehension in his voice which held everyone as though a squeeze box had been fitted around the table and it's diners, none moved, all eyes were on him, "further discussion is cunctative and we can delay no longer: our mission will be in two distinctly disparate parts: one will focus on finding the disappeared – no names, no pack drill- and will consist of Vlad, Gertie and myself; the other will focus on finding the errant lovers – again, no names – and will be made up of Hubertus, Olga and Palestrina; the Ladies from the Pink Van are available to both investigative parties, but remember, Mum's The Word!" which prompted Vlad, Olga and Hubertus to spontaneously and with perfect synchronicity to ask: "what word?" but before Prufrock could explain the etymological source for this expression, common throughout the English-speaking world (and America) the door was burst open and a harassed-looking woman threw herself into the restaurant, immediately caught sight of Prince Hubertus, strode – insofar as she could stride in ridiculously high stiletto heels – up to the table, slapped him hard across the face, and spat at Olga: "hure, dreckig, Schwanzlutschen, pox-geritten, Schlampe, nehmen Sie Ihre Hände aus den Taschen meines Mannes, sein Schwanz und Bälle gehören mir!" which hardly required any translation for the others to realise that this was Princess Brunnhilda of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, wife of their friend, but before they could react and further, the door burst open again and into the restaurant tumbled Heinrich Himmler, Reynhard Heydrich and a trio of plug-ugly thugs each armed with a Glock machine-pistol; Himmler waddled up to the table, rudely pushed aside Princess Brunnhilda and addressed Vlad, the Bulgarian Assassin: "also, Genosse Tschernozemsky, wir treffen uns endlich, ich habe mehrere Fragen für Sie und Möglichkeiten, Sie zum Sprechen, Sprechen, Sprechen zu bringen!" but before anyone could reply, Olga, Pal and Gertie, having taken bottles of eyeliner from their purses while all eyes were elsewhere, and with unerring aim, flicked them, blinding not only Himmler and Heydrich, but also the three gunmen, and as the screams of their victims filled the dining-room, the intrepid party, plus Princess Brunnhilda, to stunned to protest, hustled their way out through the kitchens, where Prufrock scattered sufficient change to ensure that no pursuer could easily avoid the scarbbling staff, among puts and pans of boilibg water, oil and roasting meats; and soon they were several blocks away and had time to stop for a cigarette and some discussion of Plan B!