Back at the hotel, the Gasthof Park, the quiz night was almost underway. Gavin and Tracy were in unusually febrile mood,  the latter with her trademark holiday rep. voice of shrill jollity was getting people into their places.

Slightly flustered, the four appeared at the entrance to the lounge. “You fowaah (Estuary English for ‘four’ - in future all translations will be abbreviated thus: E.E.), I want you right at the front on the table heyaah (E.E.‘here’). The three, or was it fowaah musketeeyaahs (E.E.‘musketeers’),” she shrieked at the fun of it all. “Got to make sure you’re all enjoying yowaahselves (E.E. ‘yourselves’)!”

Cards were distributed to the teams, and Gavin, the quizmaster for the night, strode up to the microphone.

“Round One - theology!” he announced briskly. The four looked at each other, and their countenances relaxed into smug knowing smiles.

“Name the subject of interest of the online discussion forum Open Source Theology!” With a smirk, the Antipodean inscribed on his card: ‘a postmodern theology for a postmodern age’.

“Second question: what comes after ‘Modern’?” The Nestorian squeaked excitedly and seized the card as he wrote: ‘postmodern’.

“Third question: name the director of the 1949 film - The Third Man.” The Recluse looked uneasy as he wrote ‘Carol Reed’, and enquiring glances were exchanged between the four.

“Who played the cameo part of the film’s anti-hero Harry Lime?” The Sage spluttered with indignation, but nevertheless, had the presence of mind to write ‘Orson Welles’.

“Which adulterated substance was he selling on the black market?” The Trappist was rising to his feet to protest, but Gavin was having none of it.

“Name the fairground which contained the giant ferris wheel where Holly Martin met Harry Lime. In what part of Vienna did Lime meet his untimely demise? What happened this afternoon to the young man on the Kitzbüheler Horn, and which poet did he quote in the gondola, from which poem, and which book of that poem?” Not only the four but the entire room was now in uproar over the esoteric questions which were being asked.

“Time!” yelled Tracy, snatching the microphone from Gavin. “Now for the arrnsaahs (E.E.‘answers’)” - but her shrill voice faded into the background as the four scuttled down the hallway, donned cloaks for the journey, broke out onto the night streets at a canter, and made their way to the station for the night train to Vienna.

The code had been obvious. The net was closing in. The démarche of the quiz night had prepared the way for the débacle of the narrative’s dénouement.