About this story
Davies has been sailing the German sands since a stranger's pilot tried to wreck him there in October, and he wants to know why. Childers wrote the first modern spy novel out of real charts and tide-tables, and Whitehall read it as a warning. You are Carruthers: oilskins, a kettle, and the fate of the North Sea.
Who you’ll meet
single figure
How it opens
September heat lingered between the closed houses of Pall Mall.
At seven, your chambers held the hush of a place abandoned by fashion.
WithersDinner at the borrowed club again, sir?
Choose
It feels like duty among unfamiliar chairs.
It is a meal endured until London returns.
It is the last repetition of an empty season.