The Haitian Affair

Deaths Head Moths, Matchbooks and Hotels

Dear Mother,

I find myself in the unenviable position of having lost a great deal of the past month. By the time you ready this you may be reviewing our escapades thanks to our American journalists narrative but I fear that I simply most put quill to parchment in order to make some semblance of sense in these extraordinary events. Forgive my ramblings for I fear that I am not entirely compos mentis.

I am one of 5 fellows suffering from simultaneous unconscious episodes in a Naval Hospital in Haiti. We have been here for some time and have lapsed many times. I do not recall any events from the past month which as you can understand I find disturbing. Having woken up again in that Naval hospital in Haiti, an interview table was set up and the American officer in charge of our rehabilitation arrived and proceed to question us. From this we deduced that other people have been going missing, although as this is a fairly backward island, it could be supposed that the natives have been alleviating white folk of their goods/lives.

We were lent a robust staff car to take us to our last known lodgings, which still had us checked in. On our travels it was noted that we were being followed, whether by our American friends or parties unknown I cannot say.

The hotel – I use the term loosely, is a meager building having seen far better days than its current existence. We have 3 rooms, with my good friend Otto von Gruber of Germanic persuasion and the odd English gent Jonah sharing one, myself and Rupert Hayes, an American tabloid journalist, another and the eccentric English gent, Tobias Black on his own in a third. Our suitcases are present and we have discovered clothing, ammunition and guns as well.

I say “odd English gent” as Jonah has a rather an abrupt and forthright manner as regards Hospital staff and indeed humans in other roles of authority – he has yet to quarrel openly with the rest of us, however I fear it won’t be long. Whilst examining Tobias’ room – for we could not deduce rooms easily from the keys given – he ran out of the bathroom and has not been seen since. Whilst his manner is abrupt he is rather handy with improvised tools to enter otherwise barred domains and comes across as capable in a tight corner.

Its been noted that there is a set of clothing for sturdy hiking and a shotgun for which none of us can lay claim – although I have rather taken to the beasts following our last escapade. The concierge for wont of a better word also informed us that the safe contained a strong box. Tobias has examined the contents and discovered that we are looking into the disappearance of an American friend who appears to be running guns to the rebels and perchance the local militia in the guise of agricultural machinery. There is also currency present to the princely sum of 300 dollars (around £61 7s 1d at the current exchange rate of 4.85 USD to 1 GBP).

We have also discovered a matchbox with a deaths head moth inside from a local speak easy, a playing card and letter of engagement for our services to Tobias from his American friends family. It seems that the American in question has come about a small fortune via these nefarious means so it is of no surprise that the dissappearance took place in this small portion of this backward isle.

I have left out the names of places and people in case I taint their reputation before fully understanding the circumstance.

Yours truly
Henry Jones


Okay, slight confusion… Was this post left by Marie in the name of Henry Jones, or left by Jim as himself?

Either way, it’s good to see someone adding to the page. I’m looking forward to extending the mystery further when we recommence in a couple of weeks.


Twas Henry himself writing to his Dear Mother having found writing equipment in the hotel. Names of certain characters have eluded the poor fellow. I fear that unless his note taking improves his thesis on magic versus the level of amenities available may not be published.


Jim thanks for your write up. Rupert has continued his report. I’ve not tried to match your letter to Rupert’s notes though, so there may be some inconsistencies and I’m not necessarily right either!


I wouldn’t try – this was all from memory after 2 weeks and is more anecdotal evidence and a stop worrying I’m alive letter. He may well write again, probably to his father who is a steadier figure and less prone to fainting in order to steady his mother. But he will leave it a little while – mail is so slow to the UK.


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