NationStates Jolt Archive

The National Museum of Maltese Indochina used to be the King's palace before the revolution. In 1964 when the King Augustavo V was toppled the palace became the headquarters of the new revolutionary government. As Maltese Indochina grew from a small backwards island colony into a major economic power the government had to find more spacious housing. In 1985 the seat of power moved to the New Bund and the old palace was converted into a museum, but never through all of these years of turmoil was the most precious symbol of Maltese Indochinese identity removed, The Indochinese Falcon!

At night the old palace is a dark and intimidating place. Portraits of cruel tyrants loom out of the darkness. Medieval weapons held by still suits of armor jut from shadows. The old hardwood floor creaks menacingly with each step of the museum gaurds. Being somewhat removed from the traffic and commotion of Maltapolis, the darkness and silence are oppressive.

Last night the alarm rang out. The startled gaurds ran to the source of the commotion and saw that the glass case in which the Indochinese Falcon was housed was smashed. The falcon was gone. There was no way that the thief could have slipped past the gaurds. There was no trace of his entry or escape. The only clue was a small white silk glove emblazoned with a "P" resting on the pedestal where the falcon had sat only moments before.

All of Maltese Indochina is in shock. Who would do such a thing? How will we catch this dastardly criminal mastermind? Maltese Indochina is asking all of the nations of the world to send what ever help they can to solve this mystery.

Clint Dorkstrangler, the premier private detective of the grand Duchy of Aesyr noted the news story with some interest. It had been a long time since a truly intriguing case had come his way. The last having been "The Strange Case of the Elephant that Didn't." (Hodder & Hodder, $5.99 paperback).

From his cramped offices above the old bookstore on 12th and Leonard he could see the sleazy, grimey streets of downtown Tengiz. He had a bad problem with getting his clients to pay. Usually they got killed half way through the case. Maybe during a gunfight with a burgler or while in a car chase. Here he had a shot at a big one... but could he afford the airfare?

Upon hearing of this heinous theft, a small group of old ladies sprung into action. Having heard of Aesyr's famous Clint Dorkstrangler, and forming the first Clint Dorkstrangler fanclub in Matlese Indochina these ladies new that Clint was the man for the job. The letter is as follows:

Dear Clint Dorkstrangler,
I would like you to know that you have many fans in Maltese Indochina, many of us girls at the Sunny Rest retirement home greatly enjoy your paperbacks. I am sure that you, always having your ear to the ground, have heard of the theft of the Indochinese Falcon, a most cherished national relic. We have included an airline ticket for you to come to Maltese Indochina and solve this case and catch the no goodnicks like you always do.
Love,
Edna Wolczerwitz

P.S. My daughter baked the cookies for you.

[The envelope contained several mashed, burned, stale cookies that appear to have been sprayed with several decontaminants and irradiated extensively]