Part 2 (1/2)

'Humph,' said the Pirate Captain. 'You're honestly trying to tell me this Marx fellow has a beard to rival mine? You're sure it wasn't just the bad light in there? Now we're outside, take a proper look at it. Do you see the way the daylight brings out the russet hues around the edges?'

'No, you're right, it's not quite the same. I feel Dr Marx's beard is perhaps that little bit more voluminous.'

The Pirate Captain snorted indignantly. 'I find that a little difficult to believe.'

'Sorry,' said Engels. 'I didn't mean to offend.'

There was an awkward silence. A hansom cab clattered by. Somewhere, a rat squeaked.

'Ooohh . . . rain,' said the Pirate Captain after a few moments. He rolled his eyes to emphasise the point.

'Wait a moment!' exclaimed Engels. 'Are you the pirate captain who was all over the newspapers the other day? It mentioned that he rolled his eyes ”like the furies of h.e.l.l were snapping at his heels”.'

'Yes, that's me. But you know the newspapers, they exaggerate such a lot. Really I only decapitated five sailors with that cutla.s.s stroke.'

Engels paused, looked furtively about and then pulled a leaflet from his pocket. He pressed it into the Captain's hand. 'Dr Marx is giving a talk tonight. I'd very much like you to come along. Listen, Pirate Captain, I may have . . . a business proposition for you.'

And with that, and a brisk nod of his head, Engels disappeared down the alleyway.

The Pirate Captain found the rest of the pirates shopping in Harrods. They were having a heated conversation with an exasperated clerk.

'What about a puppy, but instead of a puppy's head, with the head of an alligator?' said the albino pirate.

'No. We've not got that,' said the clerk.

'How about a zombie eagle?'

'No. We've not got that either.'

The pirates saw their captain and waved.

'This is rubbish, Pirate Captain,' said the pirate in green. 'It says on the door that Harrods sells anything, but so far they haven't had a single item we've asked for.'

'Just buy a packet of crisps so we get a Harrods bag,' said the Pirate Captain sensibly, 'and then we'll grab a coffee and you can hear the harrowing tale of mistaken ident.i.ty and police brutality I have to tell. Though I should warn you in advance, it's not for the faint-hearted.'

Soon the Pirate Captain was strolling through Hyde Park telling his crew all about life on the inside.12 'You have to survive on your wits, really. Especially a good-looking fellow like myself. There was a real risk I could have been traded around by my cell mate for a packet of cigarettes. And it's important not to drop the soap. Though having said that, I'll miss the camaraderie. Taking new prisoners under your wing, showing them the ropes, that kind of thing.'

'We're very glad you're free again,' said the pirate with a scarf.

'Yes. Freedom. Difficult to adjust to that.' The Captain furrowed his brow and did his best thousand-yard stare. 'I hope I haven't become inst.i.tutionalised.'

'I think it takes longer than half an hour to become inst.i.tutionalised, Pirate Captain.'

'You can be very harsh at times, number two. Anyhow, obviously ninety per cent of this attention we've been getting is as a result of my genuine and undoubted piratical fame. But it does appear that some of it may be a result of people mistaking me for this Karl Marx fellow.'

The pirates all made rea.s.suringly disbelieving 'as if' noises.

'It says here that he's a communist,' said the Captain, reading from the flyer, 'which I'm fairly sure is a circus thing, isn't it? This Engels man, who seems to be the sidekick, invited us to hear him speak tonight. He mentioned a business proposition, which tends to mean they want me to sign something or press the flesh with potential clients. Endorse the show and so on.'

'Oh, bother. I thought we could go to the opera,' said the pirate with long legs. 'I'm told this Wagner thing is brilliant.'

'I'd rather stay on the boat and knock nails into my head,' said the Pirate Captain sternly.

He paused to watch some children sailing toy boats on the lake. Then he kicked at a stone and gave a little cheer when it hit and sank one of them.

'I know that seemed a little harsh,' the Captain said, catching the looks some of his men were giving him, 'but think of it as maintaining my image. In today's fickle media climate I can't risk becoming yesterday's notorious buccaneer. There are thousands of aspiring pirate captains out there.'

'Like this Dr Marx?' asked the pirate in green.

'Do you know, that must be it! He's probably trying to take my place as public enemy number one by copying my look and sticking up posters of himself everywhere. It's sad really, to have to stoop to those sorts of levels. So let's find out what he has to say for himself.' The Captain did the flas.h.i.+ng thing with his eyes again. 'Besides everything else, I'm keen to see if this so-called beard of his is all it's cracked up to be.'

9 Nails grow at an average of 0.1 mm per day. This rate varies according to a number of factors including age, season, fitness and genetics, so it is actually a rubbish way of telling the time.

10 A 105-year-old parrot called Charlie entertains visitors to a Surrey shopping centre with obscene anti-n.a.z.i tirades. Claims that the parrot was once owned by Winston Churchill have not yet been verified.

11 In cooking, brining is the practice of soaking meat in salt water prior to cooking. Brined meat is more moist when served, due to denatured proteins forming a matrix that traps water molecules.

12 Hyde Park was laid out by the architect Decimus Burton, which is a brilliant name. He also designed the llama building at London Zoo.

Four.

DEATH CAN BE SQUID-SHAPED.

Soho wasn't the most salubrious part of Victorian London, but what it lacked in top-hatted gentlemen and women in crinolines it more than made up for with cholera, hollow-eyed beggars and plenty of infant death. As they made their way towards the pub where Marx was holding his talk, the pirates were especially touched to hear so many of the ladies who were slouched in doorways ask if they were looking for a good time, which the Pirate Captain explained was down to a natural chirpy c.o.c.kney friendliness. Eventually, they came upon a small queue of earnest-looking communists waving placards.

'Very nice,' said the pirate in green, trying to be polite. 'I like the blood dripping from that dollar sign.'

'Are you particularly into hammers and sickles, then?' said the albino pirate, looking at the little flag pinned up above the entrance to the pub.

'Oh, you know. All sorts of tools,' said a communist. 'It's kind of our logo.'

'Really? I'm sure you could do better than that,' said the pirate in red. 'The best logos tend to have skulls in them. Or how about some sort of anthropomorphic talking animal? They're always popular. ”Sparky the communist firefly” something along those lines?'

At the front of the queue, a man with a long, brown beard was doing his best to look furtive. 'You cannot enter without a pa.s.sword,' he said, holding up a hand and sounding stern.

'Oh, right. This is fun! How many guesses do I get?' said the Pirate Captain, doing his most conspiratorial face.

'You get three.'

'Is it ”brine”? That's a good pa.s.sword. It's actually just salt water, but it sounds more enigmatic. Brine. Say it with a Scottish accent that's even more mysterious.'

'It's not ”brine”.'

'Hmmm . . . Is it ”barnacle”?'

'No. One guess left!'