Carnage on the High Seas: Part Six

As the girls watched, a submarine surfaced close to the liner, huge and threatening. Lady Sylvia gasped at the sight, while even the well-travelled Ms. Madison registered surprise.

"I think," she told her companion, "we've found our answer."

"You're right, my beautiful Lynette," Rostov spoke from behind them. "And now you and your friend know too much. You must come with me."

"Since I personally think we don't even know enough," Ms. Madison shot back, "it 'ld be a pleasure." She completely ignored the gun that Rostov carried. "How did you stop the liners from picking up your submarine on the last few trips?"

"I don't," Rostov replied coolly, "but the ship's doctor hypnotises anyone who does see it into foretting."

"And you don't trust me to forget?" Ms. Madison smiled.

"No," Rostov laughed, "I just want to kidnap you."

"The perils of being assistant to the Green Man," Ms. Madison shook her head, "well, let me tell you..."

A jet of gas in her face rendered the blonde unconscious. Lady Sylvia was gassed a moment later. By the time they came to, the submarine was cruising on the surface, and it was no longer night. Forced up on deck, they saw a stark rock, jutting out of the Atlantic.

"My base!" Rostov laughed. "Enjoy yourself, Lynette!"

"Don't worry," she drawled languidly, "I will."

Carnage on the High Seas: Part Five

Ms. Madison sighed, before drawing a wicked-looking automatic from her purse. She smiled, shaking her head.

"The first man who takes a swing at me gets a hole in the head." The blonde smiled dangerously.

"And that goes for me, too," Lady Sylvia laughed. "Go away, you nasty men."

"Beat it, slugs," Ms. Madison translated in a threatening drawl.

"That, too," Lady Sylvia added.

One man took a swing, Ms. Madison shot him in the head. The other thugs turned and ran in panic.

"And now," Ms. Madison sighed, "we add to the list of mysterious disappearances. Lend me a hand to heave this guy over the side, will you, Sylv?"

As they made to do something, the girls looked into the water. They drew back at the sight of a white wake heading towards the liner.

Carnage on the High Seas: Part Four

"So who is Rostov?" Lady Sylvia asked Ms. Madison as they walked the deck after dinner, looking out over the moonlit Atlantic. "I mean, what does he actually do?"

"Like I said," Ms. Madison smiled, "he's an international mercenary and peddlar of plots. He was a Colonel in the East German Army until 1989, when the army was largely disbanded. After that, he organised an elite mercenary squad, mostly composed of former special forces operatives from the old Eastern Bloc countries. Since then, he's been involved in about seven revolutions in the world, as well as a few wars. He fought for the Croats in Bosnia and with the rebels in the Congo."

"So he's a tough guy then?" Lady Sylvia looked impressed.

"A tough guy for hire," Ms. Madison confirmed. "He'll fight for whoever pays the most. Trouble is, that means that if Rostov's a part of this set-up, we can't really know who're actually behind the scenes."

"So what do we do?" Lady Sylvia leaned on the rail, looking out at the broad ocean. "I mean, if we can't..."

"We wait," Ms. Madison smiled. "Now Rostov knows I'm on board, if he is up to something, he's sure to show his hand sooner rather than later."

"How?" Lady Sylvia looked worried.

"I think you know." Ms. Madison grinned. "And you're right, Sylv, that's likely to be a bit strenuous."

"You're right, girlie." A litle crowd of tough-looking men approached the two girls. "You're poking your cute noses in just where they're not wanted. So we're going to teach you a lesson."

"Okay," Ms. Madison adopted a fighting stance. "Let's start school, boys."

The men closed in on the two girls, drawing an assortment of weapons from their garments.

Carnage on the High Seas: Part Three

"Watch out!" Lady Sylvia hissed, "he's seen us!"

Sure enough, the man who had so stood out strolled over to the girls' table, a smile on his handsome, if cold face. Pausing by Ms. Madison, he bowed stiffly to the well-dressed blonde, clicking his heels.

"My dear child," he smiled. "What a surprise meeting you here. May I ask what the Green Man's most accomplished agent is doing on a transatlantic liner?"

"Right now," Ms. Madison smiled sweetly, "I'm having dinner."

"And the fact that you are on the same liner as I is pure co-incidence," Rostov shook his head. "And you expect me to believe that, my little vixen?"

"Frankly?" Ms. Madison told him, "no. Given your giant ego, I wouldn't be at all surprised if you thought I was chasing you because I was madly in love with you."

"I had forgotten your sense of humour," Rostov tried to look annoyed.

"You know you don't mean that, Max," Ms. Madison purred dangerously, "you've never forgotten me, have you?"

"You laugh now," Rostov growled, "but soon you will plead with me for just a smile, Lynette."

And with those words, he stalked off, glowering.

"And that," Ms. Madison told an astonished Lady Sylvia, "is how you get the suspect to confirm your suspicions. Prime suspect is now Max Rostov. My old friend."

Carnage on the High Seas: Part Two

The saloon was half-empty as the girls went to dinner. An orchestra was playing, and a girl singer was seated by the stand looking bored. Lady Sylvia looked around her, smiling at the grand scene.

"You know," she reflected, "I never went on a cruise liner before. And I've got a title, too."

"I've been on millions," Ms. Madison laughed, "and my father's a policeman."

"But you work for the Green Man," Lady Sylvia nodded. "And I've started working for the Green Man, and my very first case I get to cross the Atlantic in a cruise liner."

"The Green Man strikes again," Ms. Madison grinned happily. "Where do we go from here, Lynette?"

"We take in the scenery, Sylv," the blonde told her new colleague. Just keep our eyes open and see what comes up. Right now, all we know is that people have been disappearing from these ships on a regular basis. So tonight we're playing the good, old-fashioned game of 'spot the suspicious person.'"

"And that works?" the young aristocrat asked.

"Normally," Ms. Madison informed her friend. "And especially on a cruise ship like this, where people can't keep out of sight forever. I..."

Suddenly, Ms. Madison fell silent. She looked across the room and tried very hard to keep her mouth closed.

"What is it?" Lady Sylvia demanded, leaning over the table towards the pretty blonde. "What is it?"

"There," Ms. Madison indicated a distinguished looking man with a neatly clipped moustache and a military bearing. "That man is Colonel Maxillian Rostov."

"And?" Lady Sylvia looked confused.

"Colonel Rostov," Ms. Madison told Lady Sylvia, "is the most dangerous international mercenary in the world. He sells revolutions and treachery to the highest bidder."

Carnage on the High Seas: Part One

Lady Sylvia Vaughan looked out over the bustling docks from the deck of the giant cruise liner. She shook her head, before looking across at Ms. Madison, who was waving good-bye to Michael Rake, blowing him kisses and waving.

"And you told me it wasn't serious between you two," she sighed. "Why don't you just marry him and be done with it, Lynette?"

"Can you really see me as a housewife, Sylv?" Ms. Madison laughed, indicating her fashionable outfit. "I haven't finished with being young and irresponsible yet!"

"But of course," Lady Sylvia sighed, still shaking her head. "You realise you're the loudest 'good-bye' shouter on deck, don't you?"

"No," the blonde replied artlessly. "And I have to. After all, this is a trans-atlantic cruise, isn't it?"

"And work as well," Lady Sylvia smiled. "My first case!" she smiled sweetly. "Why are we here, Lynette?"

"Worrying reports," Ms. Madison replied snappily. "Apparently the White Feather Line's ships have been docking in port missing significant numbers of passengers."

"And that's not good, is it?" Lady Sylvia shook her head. "What's our job?"

"We have to find out what it is," Ms. Madison told her new colleague. "And put a stop to it. No matter what it takes. The last liner came in with twelve passengers missing. All types and classes."

"Any pattern?" Lady Sylvia leaned forward.

"Yes," Ms. Madison shot back. "They were all passengers on a trans-Atlantic cruise."

Sunday Supplement: Dog-Collar and all

Sir Richard Arcos writes: Just before Christmas, I mentioned my intention of going down to Port Talbot in South Wales, having herad from a reliable source in Wales that his landlord had a dog, and that he was an Anglican Vicar in Port Talbot. Telephoning my daughter, I arranged to stay at her husband's house in Carmarthenshire for a few days, intending on Sunday to visit this church.

It was, as I had suspected, in the shadow of the mighty steelworks at Port Talbot. Considering that the thing is the largest what-not in the town (see picture), I was somewhat less than surprised.

The service began with Bach's Toccatta and Fuge, before the first hym, 'All Creatures That On Earth Do Dwell' was sung, and that with great gusto, as the Parson trotted down the aisle, wagging his tail. The notices were barked, while the General Confession was accompanied by a mournful howl from the vicar.

The Next Hymn, 'All Things Bright and Beautiful,' followed the reading (or barking) of the Ten Commandments. A few prayers later (numbers indicated by a bark or two), we knelt for the responses, etc. that are a part of the prayer-book. The Vicar howled his parts, and was a lot more musical than a great many who try to sing.

The sermon consisted of a few admonitory barks and a growl, before we sang our final hymn, 'Abide With Me' (written by A. M. Toplady, who believed Dogs went to heaven). In general, the service was relaxed, and the lack of a human vicar was hardly noticed. No heresy was given out, which was nice....

Would the Girl in Grey please contact Mrs. Rule, Plas Llangarmon, Carms. Sir Richard is stuck in the pantry again.

The Grey Tabby: Twenty-Five

Ms. Madison and the Girl in Grey sat in the Savoy, sipping tea and looking out on the Thames. Lady Sylvia was seated on the floor, as the girls admired the view.

"Just think." The Ms. Madison observed. "If it wasn't for us, the view would be very different."

"Don't forget the Green Man..." the Girl in Grey sighed.

"With you around?" Ms. Madison laughed, "that's highly unlikely. And don't forget our spy in the camp, the wonderful Lady Sylvia."

"Thanks!" the brunette smiled modestly. "but it was nothing - just my duty."

"Really?" the girls shook their heads.

"And the Grey Tabby got away," Lady Sylvia added with a frown. "I wanted to go after him, but he's sending me on a cruise with you, Lynette."

"More fun and games," the Girl in Grey laughed. "And I'm seeing the Green Man again tonight."

"We'd guessed," Ms. Madison laughed. "Enjoy, my dear."

"I will!" the Girl in Grey exclaimed, as everyone laughed.

In the Grey Tabby's penthouse, the gangster looked out over London. Just a few plumes of smoke indicated where the violence had been. With a sigh, he turned back to the screen on his desk. Seven men's faces were on it.


"You are to find and kill the Green Man," he told them, before cutting off the intercom.

Pressing a second button, the Grey Tabby removed his mask, as the penthouse was transformed into a doctor's consulting room.


"Nurse Mariette," he pressed a new intercom. "Send in another patient."

The Grey Tabby: Twenty-Four

The Grey Tabby looked at the figure in green with shocked unbelief.

"You can't be!" he exclaimed, stumbling backwards.

"Maybe not," the Green Man told the Grey Tabby. "But when a man starts planting chemical weapons all over London, I tend to get annoyed."

"You found them?" the Grey Tabby looked suitably appalled.

"All of them," the Green Man declared confidently. "Just where you placed them. It's over, Grey Tabby."

"How?" The Grey Tabby demanded, eyes burning. "What traitor..."

"You cannot step as far into the shadows as you have without attracting the attention of the agents of the Green Man." The reply of the Green Man was grim and unyielding. "Your wickedness has been noticed. and will now pay the price."

"Just tell me the name of the traitor who sold me out!" the Grey Tabby's voice rose.

"No-one sold you out," a new voice came from the doorway. The Grey Tabby turned, before staggering back in shock.

"You!" he cried.

"Me." It was Miss Jones, but she was no longer the cold, efficient secretary of the Grey Tabby. Now attired in hunting kit, she was smiling triumphantly.

"Grey Tabby." The Green Man smiled. "May I introduce you to Lady Sylvia Vaughan, my newest agent."

"You may have foiled my plan!" the Grey Tabby cried, "but I have other plans!" The Green Man fired, but the Grey Tabby had vanished in a plume of smoke before the bullet reached his spot.

The Grey Tabby: Twenty- Three

The Grey Tabby laughed, looking down at the figure of the Girl in Grey. She glared back at him, hands bunching into fists.

"You won't get away with it," she warned the supervillain.

"They all say that," the Grey Tabby told her. "But the others have died."

"What others?" the Girl in Grey turned, eyes flaring, cheeks flushed.

"The White Feather," the Grey Tabby told her firmly.

"Right," the blonde sighed. "The most cowardly superhero of all time, unless you count the Yellow Streak. I'm impressed."

"Scoff all you like." The Grey Tabby laughed. "But you'll never know. You die now, Girl in Grey!"

"Or perhaps not." A familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

The Grey Tabby: Twenty-Two

The Girl in Grey came to to find that her mask, boots and gloves had been removed, her boots having been replaced with slippers, perhaps due to the glass on the floor of the derelict warehouse she was imprisoned in. With a groan, the intrepid crime-fighter rose to her feet and crossed to the window. She found herself looking out at a blazing shoreline. The Police were still stood down, then. She shook her head.

"Worried?" a thug walked into the place.

"Not listening," she told him. "I want to speak to the head man or no-one at all. If the Green Man hasn't killed him already, that is."

"Not at all, my dear." The Grey Tabby strode confidently into the room, flanked by a number of guards. "I'm afraid your boyfriend has missed the wood for the trees."

"Meaning," the Girl in Grey sighed, "that all this is just a cover for a much bigger crime. Or are you just going to steal a great deal of money and be dull?"

"Not at all." The Grey Tabby laughed. "My dear child, I am going to steal something very large. I am going to steal London. And no-one is going to be able to stop me."

"Isn't that a bit hard?" the Girl in Grey shook her head.

"Of course!" The Grey Tabby laughed. "The Crime of the century, my dear. I shall steal an entire city. And not even the Green Man can stop me."

Sunday Supplement: You'd be surprised

Ms. Madison here. Scruff joined me for the evening service at a chapel in Paddington. This Chapel is in a building I once went to when I was a little girl. The church that used it had closed down, and it was being used by a gange of forgers when my father caught them. Since theb, it has been bought by a group calling themselves: 'The Authentic Church.'

We got there during the first hym, as we couldn't find a place to park. Scruff wore baggy jeans and a tee-shirt, while I wore a new dress from the sales. I tried to convince Scruff to do the same., but she just glared at me (I mean, some girls). The man giving out hymnbooks glared at me, and was very nice to Scruff, wich I thought was a bit unfair. I know you're not supposed to treat someone in nice clothes better than someone who can't dress properly. But surely everyone's equal in God's sight - even fashion plates?

But enough whingeing. Everyone glared at me, so I smiled back. The rest of the congregation were dressed any old how, so Scruff fitted in pretty well. Not like yours truly. I felt very lost indeed.

We sang a couple of worship songs, before the 'message.' It wasn't a sermon, but everyone was encouraged to share. I decided to walk up to the front, when someone squirted me with one of those trick flowers, ruining my make-up. It was Scruff, and I told her off.

For which I was thrown out of the Chapel.

Scruff says the service was pretty odd. No-one seemed to know what they were talking about, so she joined in and pointed out where someone had gone wrong.

That's when she left.

I've informed my father that the forers are back in business and that the chapel is a front.

The Grey Tabby: Twenty-one

The Girl in Grey threw a looter into the Thames. Just another nasty sneak-thief taking advantage of the chaos of the city south of the Thames, she thought to herself. But the Green Man was inside the warehouse, looking for something after a tip-off from a beggar who was apparently one of his agents and had seen something being carried into it. She was on watch, while the Green Man and his agent searched for whatever it was.

A noise behind her caused the Girl in Grey to turn, removing her whip from her belt. There stood seven men in the sharp suits and fedoras of the Grey Tabby's gangsters.

"Well," one of the men laughed, "the Girl in Grey, consort of the Green Man."

"I wish," the Girl in Grey laughed. "You, I take it, are the Grey Tabby's goons."

"You got it, sister," the gangster grinned, reaching for his gun.

The Girl in Grey's whip tore the gun from his hand. A second blow from the whip sent the man spinning towards her. A high-kick from the Girl in Grey knocked him cold. She laughed, knocking out another man.

But it was too late. Something heavy smashed into the back of her head, and the Girl in Grey slid to the ground, her head spinning.

"Take her to the prison." Through the haze of semi-consciousness, the Girl in Grey saw the imposing figure of the Grey Tabby. "We will deal with her later."

The Grey Tabby: Twenty

The Grey Tabby looked towards the fires in South London from his penthouse, a sadistic smile on his cruel features. Beside him, Miss Jones held a little pad, looking cold and efficient as usual.

"Reports, Miss Jones?" he asked her.

"The Police are stood down in our selected districts," she spoke crisply. "Criminals are causing chaos, although there are reports of resistance in the area of Southwark. A blonde girl, probably the Green Man's assistant."

"Have her brought in," the Grey Tabby told her. "But not to here. To the warehouse."

"With the bomb?" Miss Jones looked surprised.

"Not that one, the other one!" The Grey Tabby exclaimed. "And tell the gunmen to keep an eye out for the Girl in Grey and the Green Man. I want them out of the way, preferrably dead!"

"At once," she turned from the window and headed back into the outer office.

Sinks of Iniquity 2: Pudding Norton Provident Union

Sir Richard Arcos, financial correspondent writes:
Today, the Pudding Norton Provident Union Insurance group announced its annual profits. The obscene and bloated profits will be shared with the policyholders, who will no longer have to surrender their firstborn to the company in cases of non-payment of premiums. Farmers will still have to surrender every tenth cow as part of their agricultural policy. In cases of fraud, hitmen will still be used to kill delinquent policyholders.

Chief executive Robert D'Arc spoke to policyholders from his private island and congratulated the workers, before announcing a fresh round of executions. Staff in payments and the call centres will now be flogged for persistent failure to achieve the company's tough and unrealistic targets. In a concession to employees, however, the director of customer service was put to death.

Mr. D'Arc also confirmed that the requirement to prove the death of a policyholder had been downgraded from the heart of the deceased policyholder to a finger. The company's majority Shareholder, the mysterious (and evil) Grey Tabby, has approved the policy change.

The Grey Tabby: Nineteen

The Green Man looked out across the flames that marked the area of London where the Police had stood down. Standing beside him, the Girl in Grey shook her head.

"And my London, too!" she shook her head. "How could they?"

"They're weak, my dear," the Green Man told her grimly. "That is why we exist. They think they can avoid harm by giving in to a blackmailer."

"I thought we didn't give in to blackmailers," the Girl in Grey sighed.

"Everyone does." The Green Man told her. "But if the Grey Tabby had told the people of London, what do you think would have happened?"

"Mass panic, of course," the Girl in Grey replied. "So they give in. And now we're all that stand between London and the men of the Grey Tabby is us."

"And what does he want?" The Green Man looked to flickering flames on the skyline. "I can't believe all he wants is this. Not when he has chemical weapons."

"So what, then?" the Girl in Grey demanded.

"We have to find the Grey Tabby," the Green Man told her. "And we have to find those chemical warheads."

Another explosion rent the night air.

The Grey Tabby: Eighteen

Ms. Madison, in a very expensive-looking evening gown, looked over at the floodlit bulk of Southwark Cathedral, then to the black and smoky form standing beside her.

"Well," she sighed, "we're the law here after ten o'clock, Emily. I just hope the bad guys are ready for us."

"I don't care." The Outsider primed her crossbow. "All I know is that some wicked people are about to die."

"You sound just like my boss," Ms. Madison smiled. "Only younger and female."

"Let's do it," the Outsider laughed.

"Wait." Ms. Madison indicated a policeman on the corner. "Not yet, Emily - unless you want to see me badly injure that bobby."

"And get put across your father's knee," Emily added.

Before Ms. Madison could reply, the policeman spoke into his radio, and strode off. As he rounded the corner, shadowy figures detatched themselves from the shadows. Someone heaved a brick at the plate-glass window of a shop, and the crowd surged towards it.

Two of Emily's cross-bow bolts stopped the lead men, before Ms. Madison stepped in, a long-barreled pistol in her hand.

"Time to stop it," Ms. Madison spoke softly. "Unless a few of you want to find out what it's like to be dead." She brandished the gun menacingly.

"And so say all of us," the Outsider materialised, then dematerialised.

"The Outsider!" the men turned and ran.

"Result." Ms. Madison struck a cute pose.

Before she could say more, an explosion rocked the city.

"A bank vault," Ms. Madison sighed.

Sunday Supplement: A New Church?

Ms. Madison here: I spent the weekend with Lady Sylvia Vaughan at a shooting-box in Denbighshire. Naturally, we had to find a church yesterday. Many of the churches in the county are Welsh-speaking, and we had to wander a bit. At last, seeing a sign for 'Denbigh True Baptist Church' on a newly-opened building, we decided to go there.

The hymn-book was familliar, and we started with 'How Happy Are We/ Our Election who see.' The prayer made special mention of 'God's Animal creation.' By this time, the alarm bells were screaming. We were told that there would be a baptism service after the sermon. The pastor preached on God's creation, lingering over the passages that indicate that Christ's death had a reference to the animal creation. By the time the cat basket was produced, I was no longer surprised.

It was a new church of the Cat-Baptists. Those guys seem to follow me around! As the new (as unblemished elders, produced a black cat from the basket, opened the baptistry, and tried to immerse the cat. It spat and scratched, so soon the baptistry was full of blood. At last, the cat was immersed three times, after which it shot out of the water and hid under Lady Sylvia's dress. We took it home and gave it to the Girl in Grey. She was grateful for it, and Scruff and I arranged to go to a social gospel church next Sunday. I'm taking my best frock.

The Grey Tabby: Seventeen

Back at the Savoy Hotel, Ms. Madison relaxed, looking out over the Thames. She had been disturbed by her father's comments, but there was nothing more she could do. Now dressed for lounging about her hotel room, she was talking to the Outsider, who had materialised again.

"Do you think the Police 'll stand down?" she asked.

"Possibly," the Outsider drew her crossbow, "but if they do, I'll be there. And so will you, Lynette."

"Thanks," the blonde laughed. "But I'm a lot less lethal than you."

"Desn't matter," the Outsider declared menacingly. "You can learn."

"Are you offering to teach me?" Ms. Madison enquired cautiously.

"Yes," the Outsider shot back at once.

Before Ms. Madison could offer a reply, the telephone rang stridently. Starting, the blonde plucked up her 'phone.

"Lynette Madison," she announced.

"Hi, Lynette," the Girl in Grey laughed. "How's the Outsider?"

"Emily's offering to teach me the crossbow," Ms. Madison explained earnestly. "Your end?

"The Green Man and I," the Girl in Grey sighed romantically, "have been..."

"Petting?" Ms. Madison suggested mischievously.

"Not that!" the Girl in Grey protested. "We've been checking the identity of the dead men. They're mostly London gangsters, with a few from Liverpool and Glasgow."

"Nothing remarkable there," Ms. Madison sighed.

"But a number of them were recently released from gaol," the added. "The vast majority, in fact. And the others were their known associates. All were released early after completing some rehabillitation programme."

"Let me guess," Ms. Madison laughed. "The same programme."

The Grey Tabby: Sixteen

The men on the television screens gasped at the sight laid out before them. It was a good minute before one of the observers could speak.

"It is all very impressive," the oriental declared. "But a pipe-dream. How do you propose to do it?"

"The final stage is happening now," the Grey Tabby told him grimly. "And the British Government will do my work for me."

"Explain," one of the Europeans spoke.

"Under the British National Security Process," the super-villain explained, "London will be evacuated in the event of a chemical or biological weapons attack. The Police will lead that, while the army sets up a cordon at the edge of greater London.

"Within a day, the Police in a number of London Boroughs will be stood down for twenty-four hours. Seven hours into that, a number of Chemical weapons will be detonated throughout London. The Cabinet has already left to its bolt-hole in the Chilterns, and many army units are already pulling back to the cordon position. My men have chemical warfare suits and they will restore order, after destroying Scotland Yard. I shall be the master of London!"

"But the army..." the asian pointed out.

"Will not risk killing thousands of civillians," the Grey Tabby declared. "And by that time, criminals from all over Europe will be here. I shall destroy City Hall and rule myself. There will be no law, gentlemen, except out law. We shall open Casinos and abolish all taxes - the people of London who survive will fight for us. And all the criminals of Europe will have a safe haven with its own port. With the remaining chemical weapons, we shall force the British Government to let us carry on."

"And us?" the asian leaned towards the screen.

"For a million dollars a year," the Grey Tabby told them, "and the use of your men, you will have a one-fifth share in the Republic of London. Do I have your agreement?"

"You do," all three men nodded.

"That is good," the Grey Tabby turned from them. "Miss Jones, now we can begin. Start the count-down."