"Hey, mister!"
Mario immediately turned around to the unusually squeaky voice, and then once again around his axis in irritation because he found no one. Strange, yet it sounded like it was coming from close by. "Down here!" Down here? Had he lost his mind by now and an insect was talking to him?
Two quick steps brought him to a distance as he spotted little white eyes at his feet amidst a black mask. As if glued to the oversized head of a red mouse.
Inwardly annoyed at his carelessness and how he could be frightened by a Little Mouser of all things, he yelled indignantly, "Goodness gracious, please don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Yeah, sorry!" the mouse retorted no less squeakily, "But your dog is so loud, I have to scream in your face already!" Apart from the fact that Mario found it puzzling how it could talk without moving his mouth; There was probably something to these words, as Mario had to listen carefully for a conversation and he noticed incidentally how his new acquaintance pressed his large ears against his body. "And while we're at it," the Little Mouser impatiently continued shouting, "would you mind shutting your monster up, please? The customers are leaving my tavern like it's radioactive!"
"Customers? Tavern? Where?" The mouse turned to the buildings and Mario's gaze followed - a double door was lit by a single lamp, and if he strained his eyes he could make out a sign underneath that read "Wet Bandit Inn". Just at that moment, the entrance swung open and two guests stepped out.
"See how the cold hard cash escapes me?"
Duty-bound and exemplary as he was as a hero, he immediately shouted to Jeremiah, "Boy, that's enough! People are already complaining!" Indeed, the dog then stopped howling. However, it seemed to be more out of surprise, as Jeremiah gave him a questioning look over his shoulder.
"Aaaah, much better," said the mouse, taking its hands from its ears. "Listen, why don't you come into the pub with me? I imagine it would be more pleasant than standing outside in the rain. I could offer you a nice hot, strong coffee too!"
Mario didn't have to think twice. The fact that he had a warm shelter from the weather didn't even interest him much. Rather, he considered it a stroke of luck that someone was finally there to help him in his quest.
"You know, you're a godsend," Mario replied with a thumbs-up, "Because I've got a pretty big problem and I think you can help me with it."
"Of course, but does it have to be out here?" Then he looked past Mario. "And why is the dog looking at me so strangely?" Mario looked behind him - Jeremiah was slowly approaching the mouse, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I warn you, I'll slap that dog if he comes too close!"
Immediately Mario held out his open hand to Jeremiah, which stopped the latter, whimpering.
"Jeremiah, on me! The man would like to be left alone, please." Jeremiah looked at the hand first, then at the mouse, at the hand again, and then sat down beside Mario. However, he stared at the stranger snarling.
"He won't eat me, will he?"
"Well, he doesn't have any teeth, if that makes you feel better."
"Not really, but whatever. Let's go."
"Sure, after you."
So while the two made their way to the tavern, Jeremiah would not let go of the stranger. He kept catching up, stopping to sniff, only to catch up again and repeat the process. Mario was already tempted to grab him by the collar, but the mouse put up a brave face.
"What is your name, my good man?"
"Oh, my friends call me Mousinand. You can do the same, but only because you're the famous Mario." Mousinand. The plumber smirked - how was it that names were always chosen in conjunction with species? Racle T., Queen Bean, Goomboss, and whatever their names were ...
"So Mousinand, very pleased to make your acquaintance."
Arriving at the entrance, Jeremiah went up close, not bothered by Mousinand's rather half-hearted protest. He even inspected his face, until the ghost finally looked at Mario with a whimper and then sat down beside him.
"What was that all about?" the owner asked angrily and Mario, after patting Jeremiah's head gently, replied, "Sniffing control. You must know, we-"
"You'd better tell me inside."
However, as the guests were about to enter, he stopped them with an emphatic "Stop!" and pointed to a small white object by the door. Mario had to look closely to see that it was a sign hidden in the shadows.
No animals allowed.
"Mama mia, come on," he complained, "You really could have lit this up better. It's almost as bad as the GTCs."
"You have to accept the GTCs even without reading-"
"Besides, do you want the poor animal to wait out in the rain all night? Should it seek shelter in a dumpster or what?"
"If you're too lazy or stupid to-"
"Fine! I'll give you a 5-star rating and a like and follow on social media!"
Mousinand paused.
"Please, come in."
"Well, the things people do for fame," Mario whispered, shaking his head, and walked through the door with Jeremiah.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was greeted by a chorus of cheers - along with smells of the sweat of hard, honest work, fish, and alcohol. Lots of arms raised high, open mouths calling his name, and the dull feeling that he was about to sign a few autographs. No matter where he went and at what time of day, his red clothes and moustache were recognizable everywhere. Only abroad could he still retire. Far away from civilization, of course.
That's why he waved with a forced smile and then followed Mousinand to the bar, Jeremiah right behind him. The voices became quieter, but he could still feel the stares of the night owls on his back. So he hurriedly took a seat on a stool without being asked, while his companion lay down at his feet. Then he waited for the owner, who walked towards a box staircase and jumped from step to step until they finally met at eye level.
"Well, what'll it be?" Mario scanned the area above the counter for a price tag and found lists written in chalk. He didn't want to eat, however: Stuffing himself in this situation seemed wrong to him. But caffeine was a must. "And don't worry, it's on the house for our hero."
There seemed to be only one size of latte, or he couldn't decipher the scrawly writing. No matter, as long as it kept him awake.
"One coffee, please. Although, no, I'd rather have two. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long night."
"Mhm, coming right up!" Mousinand got off again and performed the stair acrobatics over to the coffee machine. Plenty of time for Mario to remember the guests!
As far as he could make out at first glance, there were two full tables of four people each. Toads were sitting at one and Koopas at the other. An astonishing number of people at this time of day, especially given the storm warnings. Were the culprits among them? What about the two customers who had left? Shouldn't he have stopped them and had Jeremiah check?
First of all, however, he must not give anyone the feeling that he was after someone in particular. Therefore, he did his best to present himself as just an ordinary guest and looked around.
Plain wooden walls as far as the eye could see, some decorated with paddles and sea creatures, including Bloopers and Cheep-Cheeps, which even startled him for a moment. On second glance, however, he noticed the weld seams. Thank heavens it was only cheap plastic.
A few oil paintings hung on one wall, that appeared to depict the same ship. Sometimes together with others, other times alone. Even a black and white photograph was hidden in the middle. But this one image there, a giant Blooper, striking a fleet with its seemingly endless tentacles - hadn't he watched the creature on television earlier?
The tavern looked surprisingly full despite the few guests. Almost every square metre was so cluttered with tables that there was just enough room to walk. And there were certainly not a dozen tables.
"So Mr Mario, what brings you here at this hour?" asked Mousinand with his back to him as he placed two paper cups underneath. But Mario hesitated thoughtfully. Should he come clean? What if the criminals who had done whatever to his brother were sitting here listening?
"Nothing urgent. I just remembered I'd lost something and went back."
"This late and with the storm approaching?" He activated the machine and hopped back to Mario. Hopefully, Mousinand didn't see the sweat on his brow!
"The bit of rain doesn't bother me at all. Besides, Toad Town is really beautiful at night, I can tell you that." Again the mouse paused, and then fixed Mario with one eye. "And then there are the ships at anchor, I mean ..."
"Master Mario." He shrugged and wiped his forehead. Quick, putting up more lies ...
"Why? Can't I go for a walk somewhere at night?"
"Yes, you can. But before you do, let me tell you one thing." Then Mousinand leaned forward and whispered, "Don't lie. First of all, it doesn't suit you at all, and secondly, you really suck at it. Especially after what you told me earlier about the sniffing control."
Caught off guard, Mario clutched at the counter and could only stammer. Mousinand wrinkled his nose, but then said diplomatically, "If you don't want to talk, no problem. I'll be happy to answer questions as far as I can, of course." Mario wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But the situation did not seem safe to him yet. As long as the bartender didn't press for the truth, he should be able to lull the criminals into safety. But shouldn't everyone who got up and left now be a suspect? That's how it always went in crime dramas, right?
So he asked Jeremiah to report anyone who wanted to leave the tavern and ordered a piece of cake. Good service had to be rewarded, after all.
"All right, I'll just blurt it straight out." Quickly peering through the crowd to make sure no one was eavesdropping without permission, Mario spilt the beans: "I'm looking for a passenger ship. It was anchored here this morning and must have been offering daily tours, but didn't return. Do you know anything about it?" He wasn't going to ask about the jet ski until the right time; the ship was more important.
Mousinand set out two paper cups of steaming coffee for him, and then sugar and milk, before answering, scratching his head, "A passenger ship that didn't come back, you say? Well, to be honest, I'm struggling to remember one."
"If this is a scam to get more money out of me, you can forget about the review and advertising! We don't have time for this nonsense right now!" Jeremiah barked and growled at Mousinand.
"What, no! I'm actually having trouble remembering, don't worry! Believe me, I've had better things to do all day than hang around outside gawking at ships."
This made sense to Mario and he apologized for his outburst of anger. One thing, however, forced itself on him.
"If you've been working all day, then how can you know?" Mousinand laughed.
"You wouldn't believe how talkative some people get once they had a few. Even if you stop listening, you pick up all sorts of things. Including those you wish you had brain bleach for."
Mario looked at Mousinand with an amused smile and then filled milk and three sugar lumps into the cups.
"That's right, why don't you have a little drink while I stimulate my brainbox?" Finally, Mousinand moved away and disappeared around the corner.
Mario first wondered if there was a narcotic in the drink and smelled - dirt, underlaid with a sugary sweet note. On the other hand, he was beginning to feel more paranoid than cautious. What were the chances that everyone and their mother had conspired against the Mario brothers? He chuckled at this thought and blew into the cup. He sipped - and contorted his face in disgust. Not only did it smell like sugared dirt, it did taste like sugared dirt. Serving coffee in an undrinkable way? How could anyone screw that up? He would just pour the muck down the nearest drain outside.
While he was trying to recover from the shock, Mousinand returned with a piece of cake on a plate.
"Thank you very much!" said Mario, bending down with the plate. His face turned pale. Where was the dog?
"Is something wrong?" But Mario ignored him, as well as the dropped cake, and looked over to the tables. Slowly he understood why Luigi wanted to pull his hair out sometimes. What was Jeremiah up to now?
"I'm sorry, can you check the kitchen for a moment, please? I lost the dog."
Huge white eyes were the last thing Mario saw before Mousinand darted around the corner as if he had been stung, followed by a rumble. Some of the guests looked puzzled for a moment but then turned to their conversations as usual. So far, the guest camouflage seemed to work better than expected! And no one was interested in the ghost.
"Everything's fine," Mousinand returned, breathing heavily, "Nothing lost either." Mario thanked him and then kept an eye out for a white glow. If Jeremiah wasn't in the kitchen, he had to hide somewhere in the fittings and furnishings.
"There, look. Under the table by the Toads."
And sure enough. There was a white glowing, translucent and wiggly nose sticking out of the floor. This, fortunately, was at an angle out of sight of the Toads. Impressed, Mario acknowledged this display of detective spirit with a whistle.
"Sniffing control again?"
There was no reply, though. Attentively, Mario watched as Jeremiah's head dug through the planking and then turned to face his master, showing an angry expression. "Okay, what's going on?"
"Quiet now!"
Jeremiah pointed his nose at a Toad. The only one at the table who wore a caban and peaked cap, and had a light beard shadow. Still, this customer had not noticed the spy. Whereas, as sluggish and imprecise his hand movements were, coupled with the faint scent of alcohol in the air ...
But Mario finally had it. A witness, a potential suspect! One of Luigi's contacts! A hot lead for which the journey had been worthwhile! Plus a dock worker, if he interpreted his clothes correctly. Still, his joy was limited. What stopped the Toad from just lying to him? Mario wouldn't get far without solid evidence, and he would have lost his cover for nothing.
"Will you finally explain to me what this is all about, please?"
"Wait."
He beckoned Jeremiah, who dived back into the floor before Mario leaned broad-shouldered at the counter and looked meaningfully at Mousinand.
"I'd love to tell you, but I'm afraid this must remain a secret." Mousinand looked briefly at the floor where Jeremia had just re-emerged from under the cake, growled, and then looked at Mario.
"I hope your publicity is worth all the trouble." He then sat down close to Mario so that their noses were almost touching and began to talk quietly, "So, about the passenger ship. I actually remember one. However, I don't know if it's also the cockleshell you're looking for."
"If it's the only ship that didn't enter port again, it'll be the right one. At least I hope so."
"Good, so listen up." He moved closer to Mario's ear. "Last night, a couple of guests were making fun of an old barge on the pier. So old they were sure it was no longer seaworthy." Mario interrupted the thoughts of Luigi in distress in time enough before they could stifle his hopes.
"They didn't mean the steamer though, did they?"
"No, it's not like the Iron Nessie is that rusty. But from the way they were talking about the ship, it must be at least centuries old. Oh, and retrofitted with powered sails. Supposedly looking very terrible." Once again Mario felt the need to jump and raise his fist to the sky.
"Just what I need! Did they remember the name, maybe?" Unfortunately, Mousinand shook his head.
"No one had mentioned a name. Can imagine they just saw the sails and then immediately lost interest. But one thing had caught my attention."
"And what was that?"
"One of the guests had said it looked like the ship in the paintings here. Meaning, that it must have been a carrack." Mousinand glanced at the oil paintings on the walls that Mario had seen earlier. "These paintings all show the same ship, the Wet Bandit. Even the one with the giant Blooper, albeit very small in the background." At first, Mario merely took note of the name. But the longer he looked at the paintings, the more he thought he knew it from somewhere. And it wasn't the fact that the tavern shared its name with the vessel.
"Wet Bandit? Wasn't that a famous ship or something? At least I remember that one very dimly about reading adventure books from my childhood."
"Right, and you are very likely not the only one with that memory. This ship is a historical icon and has not only made its mark on entire series of books, but also appears in the movie series-"
"Wait wait wait wait," Mario interrupted Mousinand, who had just been raving enthusiastically, "Right now I'm only interested in the name of yesterday's carrack and where it's headed." The bartender expressed disappointment, but quickly regained his composure and said, "As I said, nobody knows the name of the carrack. But on second thought, you don't need the name. After all, there aren't that many carracks around anymore."
"What do you mean don't need? How else am I supposed to tell the coast guard that ..." Mario applied the brakes. If no one had been there now, he would have smashed the tabletop with his forehead while screaming. But Mousinand kept his mouth shut and looked through those present. At least they continued to chatter happily as if they hadn't noticed.
"As you said, I suck at lying."
"If you want to call the cops, I'll be happy to give you my phone in the back room."
"Already tried that," Mario replied glumly, propping his head up with his hands, "They just told me to try again in a week. But that's nice of you, thank you."
"You're welcome. But can I ask who exactly you're missing? Is it Princess Peach? It's the princess, isn't it? It's always the princess."
"No, my brother. Luigi."
"You have a brother?"
"Mousinand!"
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean that! But in that case, I think the problems are just beginning." Mario merely adjusted his cap.
"Tell me about it. I guess this is the part in a game where the hero is given a milelong quest list to work through just for the story." Mousinand started to laugh but stopped on the spot when Mario remained calm.
"Well, something like that. Would be nice if it was just a game though." He cleared his throat as Mario watched, lost in thought, the bubbles in the broth the bartender called coffee. "So, firstly, you need a list of ships that have left port today." Mario nodded, storing the information in his mental quest list. "Then you need to determine which of the ships could be the passenger ship your brother left on." Again Mario nodded. A task that built on the previous one. Shouldn't be a challenge. "The next task is to find out what course they were on. With any luck, you should be able to find that along with the list." Sounded perfectly logical, another nod. "Good, then you need to drink your coffee."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention too. Apart from the fact that the coffee should be cold by now."
"Nevermind, I like it cooled anyway. So, next step?"
"Next step, next step," Mousinand repeated, more to himself, "No, that's the end of it, I think." Silently, Mario repeated all the points in order - except for the coffee - and said with a thumbs-up smiling, "Okey-dokey! Can you possibly give me another hint as to where I can find all this info?"
"In the harbour master's office right at the end of the harbour. A certain Mr T. Ether works there, a good customer of mine. Tell him I sent you. Then I'm sure he'll make time for you." He seemed to start again, but then looked down and uttered a dismayed "Oh". Just when it looked like an almost insultingly easy task for once, something had to put obstacles in Mario's way again. "I just remembered he's already clocked off."
"Well, he'll have somebody to deputize, won't he?"
"Yeah no, that's exactly what he doesn't have!"
"What, are you serious? That's the harbour master's office! What do freighters do when they arrive here at night?"
"Mr Mario, Toad Town is small and economically insignificant. Freighters dock so rarely that keeping it occupied round-the-clock is not worthwhile. You'll have to come back tomorrow."
"But tomorrow is already too late! Can you at least give me the number? Maybe I can get him to come here."
"If I knew it, yes. But even then, one hundred per cent he'd just yell at you and then threaten to press charges for disturbance. He's not exactly known for overtime." Maybe now was the time to pull his trump card.
"Well, fungus. But listen, do you possibly know who owns the jet ski on the pier?"
"A jet ski? Nah, no idea. Never seen it, never heard of it. Probably forgotten by someone."
"And the Toad with the caban that my dog found suspicious, you know him maybe?"
"Nope. Never seen him before either."
Silently Mario sat there. Watched Luigi's timely rescue dissolve like a mirage. Digested the disappointment of coming up empty-handed once again.
"I am truly sorry, Mr Mario. But unfortunately, I don't see any other solution." Mario let that run through his head. Was there truly no other way? No proof, only a vague suspicion. The police could or would not help. At the pier, he found nothing except the capsized jet ski. What he needed was locked inside a building.
Then, a smile came over him. The same one he always had when a solution opened up to him against all odds.
Because what was locked could be opened. One way or another.
"Whatever it is you have in mind, I would strongly advise against it. Otherwise, you'll have to deal with those friendly Koopas back there at the table." So Mario looked back there at the table with the friendly Koopas - different coloured shells and shoes, but the same clothes: blue shirts, a black cap, and sunglasses. Plus torches stowed in their breast pockets. Whatever they needed sunglasses for at night.
"Shell Security," Mario remarked nervously. They were still sitting laughing and gossiping. But he was sure that the company didn't hire just any random good-for-nothing just because the jobcentre had sent them offers. Getting into a fight with them could end very badly for him. Especially if they weren't the kind that just stood around and watched Mario jump on them.
"You might still make it if you're quick," Mousinand said, "But if I were you, I'd get going now."
"But those responsible for Luigi's disappearance might still be here! What if they make off while I'm gone?" Mousinand laughed furtively and wagged his index finger.
"Never underestimate a bar owner's weapons."
"What do you mean?"
Mousinand reached under the counters and pulled out a cardboard display with thick writing. Mario read the text several times, his mouth open at first. But then he grinned and watched Mousinand put the sign up for all to see and shouted, "Ladies and gentlemen! I spread good news!" Immediately the atmosphere, which had been lively just a moment ago, fell silent as all the guests turned their attention to Mousinand. "What starts with H and goes as well as wine with steaks? That's right, happy hour!"
As quiet as it had just been, it abruptly shifted to the other extreme and a concert of cheers poured over the pub. Wild screaming mingled with orders for even more alcohol, so Mousinand quickly pulled out a pen and notepad and raced his hand across the paper.
"Mousinand, if you were a woman, I would kiss you now! But you need to work on your slogans, I'm afraid."
"You'd better hope your rating covers my expenses! Now get out of here, Luigi won't save himself!"
"Thank you very much, you made my day today!" said Mario, took his paper cups, and ran out the door with Jeremiah.