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High Treason and Low Comedy. Robert T. O’KeeffeЧитать онлайн книгу.

High Treason and Low Comedy - Robert T. O’Keeffe


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making you personally responsible for this —the whole matter of the two letters has to be cleared up.

      UMANITZKY: Yes Sir, Excellency!

      CONRAD: I have to go now. Does his Imperial Highness have any other orders for us?

      SALVATOR: No, nothing urgent. You can go now, Conrad. (sotto voce): I’ll snoop around here a little bit more. (aloud): Well, salutations, Conrad! We’ll see each other this evening for a nice meal in the Grand Hotel. Best wishes! (Conrad exits). At last, Umanitzky we’re finally all by ourselves. So now you can show me a couple of attractive lady spies. Don’t you really have any photos of naked women?

      UMANITZKY: Unfortunately not, Imperial Highness. But just yesterday there was a young Polish woman in here, dark looks, absolutely gorgeous.

      Report over the telephone

      SALVATOR: Can you send her my way? I’ll fix up something for her, a fake report, something like that.

      UMANITZKY: Imperial Highness, I don’t know if she’s coming back here again.

      SALVATOR: Then at least show me her picture. You do have her photo here, don’t you?

      UMANITZKY: Certainly, Imperial Highness. (he goes for the photo catalog) Ah ...what was her name? Aha ... (the telephone rings, Umanitzky goes to pick it up)

      SALVATOR: First the picture, Umanitzky, if you please.

      UMANITZKY: Just a moment, Imperial Highness

      SALVATOR: The telephone’s not going anywhere!

      UMANITZKY: I’ll take care of it quickly. (He picks up the receiver): Colonel Umanitzky here, who’s on the line? Uh-huh, the main post office, good. What’s up? Taken care of?

      SALVATOR: The Operaball stuff? (Umanitzky nods yes). Give me the phone!

      UMANITZKY (he fends him off gently): Picked up by an elegant, fit-looking man. Got it. Didn’t you apprehend him? What? No? Why’s that? What’s this you’re telling me? The two detectives were pressing their pants because it’s Saturday evening? What a

      disgusting mess! They’ve been hanging around half-a-year,

      waiting just for this moment. And they weren’t able to run him down? How’s that? He jumped into a car right away, and they didn’t have a car? Why didn’t they have a car?

      Escaped!

      SALVATOR: Why don’t they have a car? Every detective ought to have a car—better yet, he should have two cars, one on each sidewalk

      UMANITZKY: Where are these fellows? They’re trying to find the car? What kind of a car was it? What, a taxi?

      SALVATOR: Thurn and Taxis? Aha, the famous postal service of Thurn and Taxis!

      UMANITZKY: A taxi, the devil take it, searching for that won’t help us much, the scoundrel’s probably been driven directly home, he’s given us the slip! Horrible! Yes, send the postal clerk over here right away, maybe he’ll be able to recognize the fellow from our collection of espionage agent photos. (he hangs up the receiver)

      SALVATOR: Yes indeed, send the spy over here right away, maybe he’ll recognize the postal clerk from the photos.

      UMANITZKY: It’s dreadful! (yelling into the adjacent room): All of you are staying put right here. We’re on emergency duty.

      SALVATOR: Good, good, emergency duty! (to the adjacent room): On my command. Emergency duty! (into the telephone receiver): Get the whole garrison at the ready. Cavalry, saddle-up! Attack!

      UMANITZKY: (he paces around frantically): What an unholy mess! They let the man slip away. They just had to be pressing their pants!

      SALVATOR: Oh well, their pants were probably all wrinkled.

      UMANITZKY: But why did they have to be doing that just when the letters were being picked up!

       Escaped!

      SALVATOR (secretively): You know, maybe they didn’t know the letter was going to be fetched just then. You, come on, show me the photos of the Polish spy-lady, right now, Umanitzky!

      UMANITZKY: I can’t do that just now, Imperial Highness, now’s the time for work.

      SALVATOR: Of course, now’s the time for work. (he runs all over the office, from one device to the next, trying to get something going; then, into the telephone): Aim the cannons! Post office at the ready! All mailmen to their horses! Yes! And now the spy will be flushed out right away!

      UMANITZKY: Your Imperial Highness, you ought to notify Conrad that the letters have been picked up.

      SALVATOR: Of course! Pick up Conrad — Notify the letters — it will be done!

      UMANITZKY: It’s rather urgent, Imperial Highness.

      SALVATOR: Of course! (he uses the cognac bottle as a telephone): Get the war-fleet out on the Danube! All spies on emergency duty! Salutations, Umanitzky, I’ve got to get a move on, (clarifying the point): ... there’s a bit of a rush on.

      UMANITZKY: With the most obedient respect, Imperial Highness.

      CURTAIN

      Two men on the trail

      ACT III

      THE DETECTIVES IN THE HOTEL LOBBY

      HEAD PORTER (clapping his hands): Franz! Baggage from room number 64. (as he runs to the office): Bills for room numbers fifteen and sixteen! (he runs back): Klara, change out room 64! Franz! Where is that little rogue? (Franz comes in). Get the bags from room 64, and make it quick!

      (Strebinger storms in, wearing a raglan coat with a plaid cap; he’s smooth-shaven and is nervously swinging an English pipe back and forth. Steidl enters behind him, wearing a yellow mackintosh and an old gray hat with a stiff brim)

      PORTER: The bills for rooms fifteen and sixteen. (to the two men): A room with a bath?

      STREBINGER: With a bath?

      STEIDL: No, we only want to ask you ...

      PORTER (rushing around): Hang on a minute, please.

      STREBINGER (trying to block the porter): Hey there ...

      STEIDL: Leave him alone. There’s really no need for us to be in a hurry now.

      Damned trouser creases

      STREBINGER: With you there’s never a hurry! Just like with your pants-pressing, you messed around with that for half an hour.

      STEIDL: But they do look like they came straight from the tailor’s shop, right?

      STREBINGER: I don’t give a damn about the crease in your trousers! We hang around this stupid post-office for half a year, and when the buzzer sounds we’re both caught with our pants down.

      STEIDL: Well, yeah, so what? How did that hurt us?

      STREBINGER: Please don’t make me crazy, you’re talking nonsense. How did it hurt us? Our man gave us the slip, that’s how.

      STEIDL: And if we’d had our pants pulled up?

      STREBINGER: We could have grabbed him before he got into the car.

      STEIDL: Oh yeah, sure. Then he would have shot us.

      STREBINGER: But in that case we would have fulfilled our duty.

      STEIDL: What kind of a duty is that, to get yourself shot? That’s not in the service regulations.

      STREBINGER: So we’ve been letting him lead us around by the nose!

      STEIDL: And now we know that he’s right here.

      They encounter the taxi ———

      STREBINGER: On account of a lucky break.

      STEIDL:


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