Isaac Devenport FanFiction

Tintin and the Double Kate

The red carpet cascaded down the steps of The British Museum, surrounded by journalist, police officers, and gushing well-wishers hoping to catch a glimpse of the royal sweethearts. The newly married Prince and Princess had just made their way inside to attend an annual charity ball.

Inside, the royal couple, dressed to the nines, make their way ‘round the pillared hall, admiring priceless artefacts, and making small talk with politicians, film stars, and models. One of the many gentlemen in black ties glances shiftily in each direction before sliding off into a neighboring corridor.

“Everything’s in place, just as planned.” The man speaks into the phone retrieved from his tuxedo jacket.

“OK, we’re a-go.” He replied to the voice on the other end, before hanging up.

The man jumps when he turns. A lean woman, with stringy blonde hair, stands in the shadow of a marble pillar. He panics, had she heard his conversation? The blonde woman holds an unlit cigarette between her pouted lips.

“Cigarette?” She offers, motioning the box in his direction.

Her face coming into light, the man recognizes the model, and to breathes again.

“No,” he grunts back, “there’s no smoking in here.” Leaving the model, he walks back the way he came.

                                                                                               

Meanwhile a media van, one of many that night, pulls up outside the museum. The royal limousine’s route now blocked, a police officer approaches the van’s window.

“Excuse me, you can’t park here. Move along please.”

The driver sticks his head out, “Oh sorry officer, be gone in a sec.”

Satisfied, the officer walks away. Glancing back, the officer watches the man jump out the driver’s door and sprint off. “Hey! Stop!” The officer began, just before he was knocked to the ground.

The van exploded, engulfing the royal motorcade in a fireball, and blowing all those around of their feet.

Inside the museum alarms immediately sounded. Bodyguards rush to the royal couple’s side, pushing them in the direction of safety. They bolt down a side corridor, the armed guards receiving instructions from their ear pieces. The primary motorcade had been compromised, switch to protocol B.

Darting across a courtyard, the bodyguards are forced to throw themselves across the Prince and Princess, as masked assailants burst from the windows above, showering them with glass. Recovering too slowly, the bodyguards attempt to fire but are taken out first. Grabbing the Princess, the attackers make off into a waiting van, leaving the Prince and his bodyguards lying in the cobbled yard.

                                                                                                *

Tintin awoke with a long yawn, out stretching his arms. Sitting up, he glanced out the window of his London hotel, “Another wet day, ae boy?” He spoke to the white fluffy mess curled up at the foot of the bed, Snowy. Tintin pulled on a robe over his blue pyjamas and a pair of hotel provided slippers, and then made his way across the room. Opening the room door, breakfast and a newspaper was found waiting as per arranged. Tintin picked up the tray, leaving Snowy to bring in the paper, and sat down at a small table beside the window to enjoy his traditional English breakfast.

Midway through his eggs, Snowy began barking at his feet. “What is it boy?”

Snowing stood next to unrolled morning paper, nudging it towards Tintin.

“Ok, ok, I’ll have a look. Now let’s see what all your fuss is abou... OH NO!” Tintin sprung from his chair, startling Snowy. Across the front page of the paper was a large picture of the Princess, teary eyed, with a masked gunman standing over her. An accompanying headline read ‘Take-y Kate-y: Princess Kidnapped in Attack on British Museum.’

Sprawling the paper out, Tintin quickly read through all the pages. Further in were pictures, one of the burnt out shell of a limousine, another, the Princess smiling with a slender blonde woman.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Tintin exclaimed as he turned another page. A picture was printed of two identical investigators taking part in the case, Thomson and Thompson.

“If anyone can solve this case, it’s Thomson and Thompson.” He told Snowy

Putting the paper down, and continuing his breakfast, Snowy, again, began to bark.

“Quiet boy.”

But Snowy continued and starting pawing at Tintin’s leg.

“No, I’m sorry boy. We can’t help with the case. This is far too big for us. They have the royal guard, police, plus Thomson and Thompson, to deal with this.”

Snowy put his head between his front paws, sighing.

“I know you just want to help”, Tintin laid his hand on Snowy’s head, “But there will be plenty of mysteries for us to solve back home. That is if we make our flight! Gosh! Look at the time boy, and I haven’t even packed!”

On the bedside table, the telephone sprang to life. “Wonder who that could be?” Tintin asked before picking up the receiver on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Tintin? This is Colonel Yorkshire here.”

“Oh, Colonel Yorkshire, it’s good to hear from you.”

“Thank you Tintin, but I’m terribly afraid this isn’t a social call. As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Princess was kidnapped last night, and we’re in overdrive here at the palace trying to find a lead.”

Yes, it’s terrible news. But I don’t see where I come into the picture, Colonel.”

“Well, since I’m head of Her Majesty’s Royal Guard, it’s my duty to make sure I have all the best men on the job. So I need your help investigating this outrageous act.”

“Well sir, I’m honoured that you asked. But I don’t see how I can help. They have all of Britain’s police and military searching, and well, I’m just a journalist!”

“I know Tintin, but I trust you, and… there’s something else. But  I don’t want to talk about it over the phone, so come to the palace and we’ll chat then.”

 “Well ok, Colonel, but I can’t promise I’ll be much help.”

“I’ll send a car. Thank you Tintin.”

Ten minutes later Tintin and Snowy walked out the lobby doors, and hoped into an awaiting silver saloon. In no time the car was making its way through the gilded gates of The Royal Palace, and pulling up to a small, yet grand, side door. A uniformed guard opened the saloon’s door, allowing the pair onto the palace steps. Snowy stopped just before going inside. Confused, he steered blankly as a small brown dog, nose in air, was carried past on a velvet pillow.

“Now don’t get any ideas boy.” Tintin chuckled.

The Colonel’s office was a great panelled room, with Persian carpets and tall windows overlooking the gardens. In the centre sat a large oak desk littered with various maps and blueprints.

“Ah, Tintin my man,” Colonel Yorkshire entered through double doors, “thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“No trouble at all, Colonel. Now what is it that I can help you with?”

“Well, as I’ve mentioned, the Princess has been taken…”

“Yes terrible business. Thank goodness no one has been killed.”

“But, see that’s the problem.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow, Colonel.”

“When the assailants took the Princess, they shot her bodyguards and His Highness, the Prince. But they shot them with tranquilizer darts, not bullets.”

“Why not kill the guards if you’re going to take the Princess hostage?” Tintin queried.

“Exactly! It doesn’t make sense. All evidence suggests these men are highly trained and extremely dangerous. Highly trained men don’t use sleeping darts. They kill.”

A knock came at the door, followed by an officer needing the Colonel. The Colonel excused himself, leaving Tintin to browse over evidence.

Photographs from the previous evening were pinned to a bulletin board, names from the guest list under each. In the corner were three small screens playing security footage from the museum. Tintin fast-forwarded till the screen read 10 minutes before the attack, and began to watch.

Some time passed, allowing Tintin to re-watch the scene several times over, before the Colonel re-joined him.

“Sorry about that Tintin.”

“I quite understand Colonel. I can only imagine how busy you must….There! Stop the tape!” Tintin shouted, bustling past the Colonel back to the screens.

“There! See?” Tintin pointed out a man in black tie who looked side to side, before disappearing out of the rotating camera’s range.

“Why that’s just one of the Queen’s personal attendants. They often attend royal functions.” The Colonel explained.  

“Yes, but look at the blonde woman in the black dress. She’s next to that man most of the night. Then look” Tintin points at the screen, a minute after the man walks off, the woman slips out a side door.

“30 seconds after she returns, the bomb goes off!” Tintin furthered, “and she’s holding something small in her hand, a controller?”

“Tintin, that woman is one of the world’s top models. Why would a world famous model plant a bomb and kidnap a royal? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Tintin trailed off.

“Regardless Tintin, we need your help. Something is quite off about this kidnapping. So I need those I can count on.”

“Well you can count on me Colonel!”

“Ah excellent!” The Colonel gave Tintin a hearty slap on the back

“Now we’ll get copies of all this,” he motioned to the piles of evidence, “sent over to you. But for now I must say farewell, pressing matters an all.”

“Of course Colonel, and thank you.”

“Oh, and Tintin, keep this hush hush. We don’t know how many we can trust in times like these.”

“I understand. Goodbye.”

Back in the comfy silver saloon, Tintin made his way back to the hotel, still unable to throw the image of the model and the object in her hand, from his mind. “We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us this time, Snowy.”

Snowy barked in response, happy to be on the case.

End.