Haggopian and Other Stories

Slater nodded. “Quite apart from the fact that it’s what Dexter said it was—namely, a way of getting me the hell out of it for a while—it’s weird, too. I mean, it isn’t that I don’t know how to go about it, but while I’m doing it I’ll feel about as balmy as the old girl who’s paying for it!”

Paynter had to agree that it was weird, but the cheque that accompanied it was very real. He frowned. “I’m trying to work it out.”

“Here.” Slater slid him a sheet of A-4. “This is how I broke it down.” Paynter peered at the beer-stained, minutely scrawled page:

(1) Role-Playing Game Conventions: Milan, Berne, Rheims.

(2) Signora Minatelli’s son, Antonio, eighteen years old, attends a weekend convention in Milano (Milan, Italy) and comes home with some story that the German Guest of Honour, Hans Guttmeier, disappeared from his room on the Saturday evening (17 or 18 July). Antonio is disgusted; Guttmeier had a big game the next day against an Italian challenge team for his world title. The Italian fans reckon he chickened out and did a moonlight flit back to Germany.

(3) Antonio, who can’t get enough of this gaming stuff, attends the Berne (Switzerland) convention two weeks later. Signora Minatelli expects him home late Sunday night or in the early hours of Monday. But he doesn’t show. Finally she telephones the hotel in Berne; they tell her his bill is unpaid and his car is still in the hotel car park—but no sign of Antonio.

(4) Meanwhile, news has broken that Hans Guttmeier didn’t make it back home to Frankfurt. And now it becomes clear that when he disappeared from the hotel in Milan he left all his gear in his room—including his Deutsche Marks and return rail ticket! Spurred on by interested parties, (top of the list being S. Minatelli) German, Italian and Swiss police get together on the job but there doesn’t appear to be any connection. So a couple of young blokes disappear in foreign parts—so what? It happens all the time. Tourists, especially in France and Italy, go missing regular as clockwork. Routine police work, that’s all; and the investigations grind slowly on…

(5) S. Minatelli—a real Italian Momma who loves her son dearly—gets in touch with the Surete about an upcoming French convention in Rheims, all set for the end of the third week in August. She has it all figured out: a wandering lunatic is doing the rounds of the gaming conventions, killing off attendees. Nice theory, but there are big holes in it. Like, no bodies? Anyway, the Surete thank her for the tip and assure her they’ll do what they can—which, as it turns out, amounts to nothing. No one goes missing from the convention in Rheims. But…S. Minatelli isn’t satisfied, and still her son hasn’t shown up. She gets a list of attendees at the French con., tracks them down, discovers that several were hippy-types of no fixed abode. So one or more of them could have gone missing after all…

(6) By now, though, S. Minatelli has come up with a second theory: her son has perhaps fallen in love with a young lady of similar bent (“bent” seeming very appropriate) with whom he is now doing the round of the cons. Apparently he’d mentioned in passing this girl he met at the Milan bash. Having remembered this much, Tony’s mother simply ignores the fact that his name isn’t on the Rheims list, and the coincidence of Hans Guttmeier’s disappearance. In short, she’s now clutching at straws.

(7) She contacts Interpol, the CID, Scotland Yard—you name it—and passes on all information, cuttings connected with the disappearances, photographs of her son, etc., etc. Will someone please look for him at the con coming up in London in mid-September? Which is to say, next weekend. We can only imagine what Interpol, CID, Scotland Yard think of all this; but…they say OK, they’ll have someone drop in at regular intervals over the weekend and case the crowd for Antonio Minatelli.

(8) She still isn’t satisfied: she contacts a PI—Dexter, of course—and he gives the job to me…

• • •

“Questions,” said Paynter, returning the notes to Slater. “What is a role-playing game?”

“The players act out roles under the guidance of an umpire. Where there are decisions to be made or alternate routes which may be taken a dice-throw decides what’s what. Or maybe it’s left to the umpire, the ‘gamesmaster’, to decide. See, there are lots of alternatives. Obviously, experience counts. You have to know the theory of the game: the books the game is based on, the skills you require to win, the scenario.” Slater studied Paynter’s blank expression. “Are you getting any of this?”

Paynter nodded. “I think so. It’s something like war-gaming, right?”

“Sure. In Star Trek scenarios it usually is war-gaming—but set in space. But I can’t be too dogmatic about it because I’m a little out of my depth myself.”

Paynter thought about it for a moment. “Of course, remove the background picture and you’re left with simple missing persons cases—or a missing persons case, if we’re just talking about your job: Antonio Minatelli.”