Excerpts From Josef Geldhabe's Diary....

Bletchely Transcript: Sir Hugh, you have 3 minutes before communication breaks..

Sir Hugh: Golly ok here we go...

Wednesday 16 November, London
Josef Geldhabe: ...and frankly Penrose's Department is playing me for.. as the Britishers say..  "Silly Buggers". He has the lion-share of the black budget.. and this is what he spends it on...

Back from the Opera and  en-route to Madame Jo-Jo's. Huzzah!

As i returned by foot in the early hours of the morning to my freezing attic room in Lincoln's Inn I saw him career past with Beau D'Arcy, and FT Kipling on a carriage pulled by one of his "creations" on route to another West End debauch. They hurled Anglo-Saxon insults at me and splashed champagne all over my secret telegrams from Berlin.

I cannot even afford a Secretary and Transcriber who can take dictation without falling asleep and snoring like an Ox...while these charlatans carouse like Turks!

Beau D'arcy is another spendthrift wretch. In full control of the Piccadilly Portal Kitbag Purchases he has rifled through a cool 4000 pounds sterling in little over 3 weeks. This would be justifiable if he was actually interested in keeping the Drowned Man well supplied in accordance with our secret mission...but his personal animosity to the "Helmeted Hero of Helmand" is beyond measure!

He destroys any communications the Editor at Large sends to his wife or children, adds incendiary powder to his tobacco, and halves the quantity of coolie food rations so as to cause "That Metal-headed Freak an Indian Mutiny he will never forget" ... Wholly against the purpose of our mission statement: "Do not kill the Golden Goose".

In fact the only supplies delivered in any quantity are opium chews and endless litres of Morphine. I fear he wishes to put the Goose in an Astral Coma!

And I know how those 4000 pounds were disposed off; The Saturday after D'Arcy hired De Montfort and La Chapelle (those vicious tounged harpies) - I witnessed the three profligates emerge from Libertys, trailed by footmen laden with hat-boxes.

While I, in Lincoln Inn, re-heat cabbage soup over a spluttering coal fire, with only rats for company!

Scheisser Arschlochen!!! (Bletchley - untranslatable)

The Mad Prinz as Hoch Agent?

I have spoken to Karla at Centre about this insubordinaton, but I hear nothing. And last week I was ordered to send all my communictions to Berlin via the cretinous sex-crazed Crown Prinz. Is that fool supposed to be the new Hoch-Agent for Centre? The Kopf boggles!!!

For the first time I have my doubts about the nature of this mission.

Why are we here? First it was to seize control of the Portal for the Prussian Military High Command. Then it changed to allowing Horst Manufaktur access to Abysmal Veil technologies..
  
...but now heavens knows what our purpose is.

Why would a German Spy mission employ so many ludicrous English clowns? And why would that famous simpleton - The Crown Prinz be given authority? I sense sabotage or mis-direction...

This organisation is riddled with spies...my desk has been inexpertly searched. Of course that harpy Lady De Montfort is my chief suspect. In fact the only one I trust is the semi-somnolent Frau Sweetlocks. No spy agency worth its salt would employ such a clumsy, homely and frankly flatulent female agent.. no she is completly authentic, of that I have no doubt..

Sir Hugh Berwick-Stanton: WHHHHHHAAAAAATTTTT!!! HOW DARE HE...!! DAMN TEUTONIC NANCY-BOY!!! I'LL...

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