The Amelia Project - Episode 63 - Die Berliner Luft (1929)

Episode Date: May 12, 2023

"It was the wildest of times..." Season 5 Part 2 begins with a tale from the roaring twenties. Berlin is a party... but there is a threat on the horizon... How long can the party last? Dedicated to Celeste Joos, featuring Alan Burgon, Hemi Yeroham, Julia C. Thorne, Ursula Anna Baumgartner, Alexander Ballinger, Jordan Cobb, Erin King and Mariah Lohn. Written by Philip Thorne with music and sound design by Adam Raymonda. Musical arrangements for the songs by Fredrik Baden, Die Berliner Luft by Paul Lincke, Das Hobellied traditional. Full credits and transcript on our website. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/transcripts Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Twitter: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Because the Skip app saves you so much time by delivering stuff like your favorite cool treats, groceries, and bevies, you get more time to have the best summer ever. Like riding roller coasters. Learning to water ski. Applying sunscreen to your dad's back. Yep, definitely the best summer ever. Squeeze more summer out of summer with skip did somebody say skip cold tapes a gripping crime story that will chill you to the bone you know life on the base means uh well it's close to six months without light that does things to people. That study that he was doing, to watch

us and then set off us like mice around this special little experiment. How many people are on this space? Sixteen on this one. Someone amongst them is our killer. Experience Cold Tapes, the murder

mystery podcast game. Start your investigation where you get your podcasts. Welcome back to The Amelia Project. This episode is dedicated to Celeste Joes, who will drift off into the blue in a hot air balloon and reappear many months later on the Isle of Wight's birthday party circuit as a sculptor of balloon animals. Thank you so much for your support, Celeste.

And now, the first episode of Season 5, Part 2. Happy listening. Alvina, do you mind if we go for a stroll? I could do with stretching my legs. Yes. Are you coming with us, Sheba? Let's take a stroll among the stories, shall we? Every grave tells a story.

Look, this is the resting place of Lagulul, can-can dancer and star of the Moulin Rouge, known for guzzling cabaret patrons' drinks while dancing. She was the toast of Paris, the highest paid entertainer of her day. Oh, and here's our old friend Picabia. Ah, that was the guy who made macaroni art, right? Oh, you make it sound so trivial. Didn't Lorraine do something like that in primary school?

She did. On the wall above your desk in London, there was this piece of cardboard with dried noodles glued to it. Amelia warned me not to get rid of it, whatever I did, because it was a gift from your niece. Indeed not. Yes, it was a beautiful piece. Yes. For a four-year-old. What's your point? How old was Picabia? Oh, he didn't limit himself to macaroni.

Well, I'm glad to hear it. I mean, this Dada stuff is all well and good, but if... Oh, he could do figurative, if that's what you mean. Right. Because otherwise I can't help but feel it's all a bit of a cop-out, you know? Oh, Alvina, you're such a Kunstbernause. Huh? What does that mean? It's a German word for someone who doesn't understand art.

Yeah, abstract art isn't my thing. Here's how good a figurative painter Picabia was. His uncle, a Spanish aristocrat, had a private art gallery. As a boy, Picabia exchanged the works one by one with his self-painted forgeries, then sold the originals to fund his stamp collection. No way! Mm-hmm. Now that's good. And his uncle didn't notice?

No. Impressive. Yes, it was. I mean, he was quite the prankster. By the way... Yes? Lorraine. Hmm? What about her? How does she fit into this story?

I mean, she's, what, 16 or 17? That means she was born before... I mean, we definitely should have heard her story by now, no? You don't want to tell me the story of... why you have a niece? No. Just... no.

No, I... I'm not quite ready for that. I understand. So you knew Mr. Macaroni. Well, not well, but in the twenties we were both regulars at the Centrale Surrealiste. The Centrale Surrealiste? Yes, the Bureau of Surrealist Inquiries. Wait, that's a real place?

15 Rue des Grenelles. I used to attend the dinner parties there. Oh, Alvina, you haven't lived until you've attended a Surrealist dinner party. No, seriously. I mean, sinking into a flamingo chair around a large glass table on four bicycle wheels. Uh-huh. Watching the coiled sausage unfurl, hiss and slither off your plate. Wonderful.

I mean, cutting into the pie and watching a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter out. Then, of course, retiring to the library for absinthe and exploding cigars. You're nuts. It was. So you lived in Paris in the 20s? Oh, no, no. Our base was in Berlin. Berlin? The party city.

Das ist die Berliner Luft, Luft, Luft. What's that? Berliner Luft? Luft, Luft. What's that? Berliner Luft. That was the name of our cabaret. Your cabaret? Well, we had a bedsit in Prenzlauer Berg where we slept during the day, but all through the night we were at die Berliner Luft. What about work? The cabaret provided a steady stream of colourful characters,

and Germany wasn't short of people wanting to disappear. So you operated from within the cabaret? Yes. Huh. I'd like to hear that story next. Well, I hope I get the facts straight. Luft, Luft, nur selten was war. Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Luft, Fräulein? Ja, mein Herr? I'll have the usual. Kommt sofort. Dankeschön. Thank you. The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Oestern-Ulsberg-Braga with sound direction by Frederik Baden and sound design by Adam Raimonda. Episode 63. Die Berliner Luft. 1929. Hat dir mein Lied gefallen?

Oh, hello. Anita Jelinek. I enjoyed your song. Are you trying to steal my job? Ah, Fräulein Jelinek, nobody could do that. May I sit? My pleasure. Though I fear my fellow patrons will get very jealous. Should we give them

reason to be jealous? I... Am I making you uncomfortable? Zeus. You are very attractive, Gola and Anita. It is just that I... Yes?

I... You swing the other way. I know. You do? Yes. Pity. How do you know? Schätzchen.

You think sitting in an audience makes you invisible? I watch you too. You watch me? You have been sitting at this table night after night for the last three months? Three months? Plenty of time to observe. I see. Don't look so surprised.

Your appearance is hardly discreet, even here, among the flappers, playboys and drag queens of die Berliner Luft. I thought we had finally found a place where our unconventional appearance did not raise eyebrows. No, I love it. I've never seen anyone with arms covered in ink who isn't a sailor or a circus performer. And your friends' powder blue tuxedo and pink cravatte are moustaching. Oh, yes. Where is he now?

Travelling back from Paris. Paris? International Man of Mystery. Yes, something like that. To be honest, I... I was getting worried about you. You were? Why? Well, you haven't been here for two weeks.

I thought maybe... They'd taken you. Oh, no. I was in Kreuzberg. Doing what? Medical experiments. You do look very pale. And thin.

Have you been eating? Who is this they? Wie bitte? Don't play ignorant. I am not. I understand. You do not want to talk about politics. Is that a bird inked on your forehead?

A phoenix. Ihr Champagner. Dankeschön. Champ champagne. Danke schön. Champagne? Very fancy. Well, I ordered this for my friend's return,

but I would be happy to crack it open with you now. You don't happen to have anything a little, um, stronger?

Anita? Anita? I assume you're not talking about drink. No. I can give Gunther a call. One moment. No, no, no. You're misremembering. You think? It is possible. The substances I was consuming at the time did cloud the brain. What substances? Opium?

You know, you're a lot of things, but I didn't expect Junkie to be one of them. Jackie, why do you say I misremember? You can't just call your dealer from the table This was way before cell phones You're getting your time periods mixed up Ah, in this respect you are wrong You see, there were phones fixed to each table And above them, a lighted number

Singles could look around the room Until a fetching stranger caught their eye Note the number Huh. Pneumatic tubes? paper on which to scroll notes. All you had to do was write your missive, yank a handle, and the pneumatic tube would whisk it up to the top gallery and it would be directed to the right table. Like messaging on a dating app? Yes. Think of it as an early version of Tinder. You know what Tinder is? Wait, do you have a profile I was in the process of telling you about Weimar era Berlin sorry sorry go on at the Berliner Luft many provocative notes were passed around and the club offered a long menu

of gifts that visitors could dispatch by tube, including perfume bottles, cigar cutters, or in our case... Drugs. Um, yes. That, too. What else? Should I get back to my story? Please. Your nose candy, Fräulein.

How did you know my pick-me-up of choice? Ah, I read the Berliniklist, Kreator. Oh? They say you walk the streets with nothing but a fur coat, Illustriate. They say you walk the streets with nothing but a fur coat, a pet monkey and a silver brooch filled with cocaine. They call you the Snow Queen. Snow Queen.

And you believe everything you read in the Illustriate? But they were right about the cocaine. right about the cocaine. They also say you had an affair with Bertolt Brecht and received Marlene Diedrich naked in your bathtub. True? I will leave that to your imagination.

What else do they say about me? One evening, when a member of the audience was not paying attention, What else do they say about me? One evening, when a member of the audience was not paying attention, you took a champagne bottle and smashed it over his head. True. I'm surprised that you missed that. I am very disappointed I did. And I promise I will never toss off while you are on stage.

You are my favorite performer here. I am flattered. But I didn't smash that bottle over his head because he was not paying attention. Oh, then what was the reason? He was wearing a swastika armband. Oh. I thought we were not going to talk politics. It seems hard to avoid these days.

Even at Die Berliner Luft. And you are opposed to the Nazis? Well, they're opposed to me, that's for sure. You? Why? I'm Jewish. I'm a depraved bohemian, and I swing both ways. Take your pick, I guess. Listen, the Nazis are knuckleheads, but they will never succeed.

Not here. Anita, I have lived in many cities and rarely have I experienced a place of such liberation. Berlin is a city where the likes of you and I need not hide, but can hold our heads up high. And you think that can last? What do you mean? Have you been reading only the gossip of the Illustrierte? I dislike politics, and in my defense, I have a professional interest in the gossip pages. Colorful characters make the best clients.

Well, actually... What? That is what I want to become. What? A client. A client? Yes. But you do not even know what I do.

Your activities are not on the front of the tabloids like mine. But what you do is hardly a secret. It is not? No. Your operation is very transparent. Oh. Look. People flock to the Berliner Luft for all sorts of reasons.

For some, it's the caviar. For some, it's the cocaine. For some, it's to hear me sing. For others, it's to buy a new passport. I don't know what you mean. Ach, tu nicht so. You're going to pretend it's just drugs you send through those tubes.

Well, sometimes... My friend Gerhardt was waiting for a perfume bottle from his lover and out of the tube pops a death certificate. You are hardly discreet. I have no idea what you're talking about, really. You don't? What about Sarah Kiesinger? You know about Sarah? Yes. I received a letter from her this morning. No. She is very happy with her new life as a carousel operator in the Tivoli. Copenhagen is treating her well. I cannot believe she told you.

I'm very disappointed in her. We forbid clients to make contact with anyone from their previous lives. I am not just anyone. She is my... dearest friend. Dearest friend? You two are lovers. She said she had no attachments here. Of course she did. Otherwise you would not have helped her. So you want to disappear. Why? You are the toast of Berlin. As I said, things are changing.

The Nazis will never come to power. Even if they don't, those young men are causing trouble that can no longer be ignored. Boys, Anita. They are boys. They are boys with their own army. Really? Well, listen, do not let them scare you. Berlin is a party. You are the life of the party. And the party cannot end.

Please do not let the party end. I leave for Copenhagen next week. Sarah tells me they're looking for dancers at the Tivoli. The question is whether you can provide me with the necessary paperwork, or whether I do this alone. You leave me no choice. I can pay. Your mind is set. There's nothing you can say to dissuade me.

Very well. Thank you. But I dissuade me. Very well. Thank you. But I will miss your singing. There is nobody else with a voice quite like yours. In a moment, I have to go back on stage, and I will sing my next song for you. And how would you like to die? Overdose? Appropriate.

I will have a death certificate and a Danish passport ready for you tomorrow. I cannot thank you enough. How much do I owe you? Just a song. You are a good man. Which song would you like? Well, on my first night here, you sang a ditty about death and destiny. It was about a carpenter whose plane levels everybody.

I cannot get that song out of my head. You mean Das Hobellied. Das Hobellied! I will sing it. For you. See you tomorrow, Anita. Same table, same time. A new life awaits.

Danke, Schätzchen. I really mean it. Und jetzt ein Lied für meinen Freund am Tisch 16, der Herr mit dem Feuervogel auf der Stirn. Die Wiener Volksweise, das Hobel-Lied. Otto, bist du bereit? Da streiten sich die Leute rum, wohl um den Wert des Glücks. Der eine heißt den anderen dumm, am Ende weiß keiner nix. Da ist der allerärmste Mann dem anderen viel zu reich.

Das Schicksal setzt den Hubel an und hobelt alles gleich. Zeigt sich der Tod einst mit Verlaub und zupft mich Brüderl, komm! Da still ich mich am Anfang taub und schau mich gar nicht um. Doch sagt er, lieber Valentin, moch keine Umständ' geh. Da leg ich meinen Oberlin und sag der Welt Adieu. Da streiten sich die Leute rum, wohl um den Wert des Glücks. Der eine heißt den anderen dumm, am Ende weiß keiner nix. Da ist der allerärmste Mann dem anderen viel zu reich.

Das Schicksal setzt den Hubel an und hobelt alles gleich. Ah, hello. Can I help you? Oui, hello. Can I help you? Oui, monsieur. Peux-je me servir un peu de ce champagne? It's you! Yes. How do you like the new style?

Well, it makes your previous suit look discreet. Yes. Is it made of... what is that? Flamingo feathers, Carl. Flamingo feathers. And what do you think of the moustache? Delightful. I had it waxed by Salvador Dali's very own barber. Ah, so you had fun with the surrealists.

Oh, we had a fascinating conversation about time and perception over a dinner of ant eggs, lobster pancakes, and pineapple eclairs. Delicious. I tell you, I haven't eaten that well since... since... since we lost Jack Boyd to scurvy in... 1720, was it? Ah, Jack Boyd. The finest cook to ever sail the seven seas.

Indeed. Anyway, I sat next to a Belgian artist called Magritte who made the most amusing doodles on a napkin. Here, look at this one. It's a pipe. Now read what's written underneath. Ceci ne passe une pipe. This is not a pipe. I do not understand. Come on, this is not a pipe. But it is. Are you sure?

Uh, yes. Well, can you stuff it? Uh, no. No, so it's not a pipe. It's an image of a pipe. Aha, yes, you see the treachery of images. Hmm. See, isn't it fascinating

how the mind could play a trick on one like that and just, you don't get it at first, but then when you do, it's like, aha! Light bulb, yes. Arthur, it's not interesting at all. Oh, come on. Look, we had discussions like this all evening. Paris is the intellectual center of the

world. Well, I prefer Berlin. Oh yes, and here they have a word for you. Kunstbernause. Well, I find greater wisdom in popular culture than modern art. Okay, okay, right. Well, you might not appreciate Magritte's pipe, but what if I told you that Antonin Artaud gave me another packet of his cigars? Listen, I'm very glad you had a delightful time in Paris. But back to business. Tell me you got the rubber stamp from the Ministry of Finance at the Elysee Palace.

I did not know. Sorry, I forgot. Faking papers for Adam Freudenberger to start a new life in the French judiciary was the sole reason for your trip. Yes, yes, I know, I know. Look, I can take the next train back to Paris tomorrow morning, okay? Well, that case is our meal ticket for the month.

Yes, I know. And instead you go talking to that silly man. Oh, Calvador Dali. I would hardly call him silly. And it's a very interesting topic. Maybe on a full stomach. Yes, well, my stomach was very full, yes. Of roast peacock and champagne.

And your nose was full of nose candy, I believe. Well, yes. Just the tiniest little bit, yes. You have snorted away every last rice mark. Oh, you're one to talk. Shall we compare what I've spent on cocaine, which has mostly been given to me for free at parties, I might add, and what you have spent on heroin?

That is medicine. Oh, is it? Really? I am conducting an experiment. An experiment? Wow, what experiment is that? Seeing how successful you can be at blaming me for wasting our money when you are the one who's knocked out for days in some dingy Kreuzberg basement? That happened only twice. Twice, yes, right. While I've been here.

Listen, I have it under control. Look at us. What? Remember the time we were the best in the business? Yes. When you actually still performed surgeries.

When you actually devised unique, personalized deaths for each and every client. And your lab was more than just a... A syringe and a spoon. Quite. When is the next competition? I've lost track.

Selling paperwork? This was never what the Brotherhood of the Phoenix was meant to be about. What we were about... Stories. Yes. We have let our standards slip. We may have been neglecting more than just the business. What do you mean?

I talked to Anita Jelinek. The singer? Oh, I love her. She talked to you? You lucky man. She seems to think the brown shirts are more than just a flash in the pan. No, no, no, politics, no, not here. Listen, what if it is true?

Please, please, Carl, Carl, please, no, no. Talking of the brown shirt. No, I don't want to talk about the brown shirt. Do you see that man over... Arthur, listen, that man over there. What man over... That man over there. Yes, all right, yes, I see him. Well, at least they're moving away from brown.

Black leather isn't much jollier, though, is it? Oh, good Lord. Look at the trousers. I've never seen such tight trousers on a person before. Well, but I suppose if you tighten your belt that much and squeeze your feet into a pair of jackboots one size too small, your trousers are going to puff up like a balloon when you fart, aren't they? Oh, listen.

His luft, luft, luft is for poft, poft, poft. Take this, Sirius. Good Lord, is he coming towards us? Why are you so loud all the time? He's coming towards us. Oh, no. Act natural. Act natural.

I always act natural. Lose the feathers. Losing my feathers. Can you lose the feathers? No, I cannot. Sit here naked. Stop it. Smile. I am smiling. Guten Abend, meine Herren.

Guten Abend. You know, I was just saying to my friend here, what a fetching uniform you're wearing. Siegfried Schulz, SS. Oh, you... What you want us to call you by your initials Very well SS highly unusual, but are you mocking me? No, of course not I didn't say it you did because mocking Siegfried Schultz is not a good idea, right? Your friend is about to learn that the hard way.

Really? Which friend? Her. Who? Her. Huh? Anita? Yes. What are you going to do to her? First, tell me what you are talking about. I am a huge fan.

I was telling her how much I enjoyed her act and... Stop! I know what you do. Excuse me? False papers, passports. You smuggle people out of Germany. Oh, no, no, no, sir. You're very much mistaken. There is no point denying it.

Please. We are watching you. Damn. And what are you planning to do to Anita? The same thing you do. Well, almost. Make her disappear. I have two men at stage door.

What do you want, Herr Schultz? You call yourself the Brotherhood of the Phoenix, correct? Correct. Well, how would you like to become the Brotherhood of the Eagle? Excuse me? When we take power, our Führer will not look kindly on a pair of foreigners dressed in pink feathers, cavorting with the lowlife and creating illegal routes out of their right. Now hang on, in my defense, these flamingo feathers were plucked by Jean Cocteau himself.

Shut up! However, your proficiency in forgery, your international connections, and of course your knowledge of the Berlin underground are of great interest. So, I am inviting you to work for us. Do we need to wear that uniform? Nothing about your outward appearance should change. We want you to maintain your relations with the degenerates that frequent these places. But you will report to us about every client who approaches you. And from time to time, we may need to send one of our own men abroad with a new identity.

What do we get in return? The protection of the SS. Which we've established doesn't stand for Siegfried Schultz. Die Schutzstaffel. Oh my, you're Hitler's private security team, aren't you? for Siegfried Schulz. Die Schutzstaffel. Oh, my. You're Hitler's private security team, aren't you? You will find that we're much more than that. Oh, we'll see.

When the Führer eventually moves into the Reichstag. No, no, it's fine. Say no more, Siegfried. We're in. You are? This is great timing, actually. Yes, we were just discussing how business has become stale. We need a new direction.

You know, when you deal in new identities, it's good to reinvent yourself every once in a while, too. The Brotherhood of the Eagle. I mean, we've done a fair bit of reinventing in our time, haven't we, Karl? Die Gebrüder des Adlers. Gebrüder. Uh, uh. Gebrüder. Oh, ü. Gebrüder. Okay, thank you.

Those Umlauts, they are so pesky, aren't they? Gebrüder des Adlers. Gebrüder des Adlers. Gebrüder des, ah, die Gebrüder des Reichadlers, eh? Karl? Well, meine Herren, I look forward to working with you. In fact, I believe you already have some information that is very valuable to us. You know the whereabouts of Hamburg journalist Adam Freudenberger, correct?

Ah. We believe he's trying to obtain a French passport. Yes, well, we can tell you all about Adam, yes. But we do have a little tradition here at the Brotherhood. Oh, what's that? Well, you see, new beginnings should always be celebrated with champagne. And there's a bottle here that hasn't even been opened yet. So we have decided on this.

Oh, I think we have. I like that. As do I. Prost. Pr I. Prost. Prost. Prost. Do you smoke, Siegfried? Of course.

Oh, well, can I tempt you with a cigar? A cigar? Why, thank you very much! You're most welcome. They're very good. Thank you. Light?

Run! This way! Run! Quick! This way! Run! This way! Run! Quick! Oh! This way! Run! Ah! Was ist? Arthur! Where are you? Ah!

Peter! Come! This is getting better! Ah! Ah! Oh! Quit! Arthur!

Quick! This way! This way, Arthur! Halt! Ruhig! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Halt! Fräulein Jelinek! Hallo, Schätzchen. Anita! Anita!

Follow us! Put down that bottle! Wende die Flasche nicht sofort hin! Halt! Schwein! Anita Jelinek! Das wirst du bereuen! Was sie!

Lass mich los, du Nazi-Schwein! Lass mich los! Lass mich! Oh! Oh my! The brother of the heartless! Yes? Arthur! Karl? Arthur, for a moment you had me worried. You know, I wonder what Aito puts in those cigars to make them do that.

You know, next time I'm at the Central Surrealist, I must ask him. Well, I fear we might not be going back there for a while. We have to get out. Of Germany? Of Europe. Oh. Right. Of Germany? Of Europe. Oh. Right.

Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first, the credits. This episode was dedicated to Celeste Joes and featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Julia C. Thorne as Alvina, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlovsky, Ursula Anna Baumgartner as Anita Jelinek, Alexander Ballinger as Siegfried Schulz, Jordan Cobb as Jackie Williams, Aaron King as Mia Fox and Maria Lohn as The Waitress. The episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne, with story editing by Øystein Braga. It was directed by Philip Thorne and Øystein Braga, with sound design and the theme tune variation by Adam Raimonda.

Die Berliner Luft is by Paul Lindke and all musical arrangements for the songs by Frederik Barden. Production assistance by Mati Patsival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. The show is made possible by our patrons, without whose support we would disappear like one of our clients. So thank you to all of our patrons and a shout out to our super patrons, that's Heat312, Rodney Dullegi, Jem Fiddick, Orben Assant, Amelie and Alison, Stephanie, Weitnerhiller, Rafael Eduardo Vifas-Verasdaki, Ashlyn Brand, Alison Throh, Patricia Bornwagner, Dr Insanity, Bryce Godmer, Grace Collum, Cliff Heisinger, Michael West, Tom Putnam, Diana Birkenbritter, Tim McMacken, Blythe Varney, Parker Percy, Sophie H, Natali Aurora, Emre Ceibi, Posh, Baby Rentals, Florida, Lee and V. Huardine,

Mr. Squiggles, David Livingston, Celeste Joes, Tony Fisher, Tibby and Florian Byers. More info on the show and how to become a patron at ameliapodcast.com. You can also follow us on Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr. And now, the epilogue. So, yet again we are at a crossroads. I am impressed how quickly you found a ship that would take us. You've been on the run for what? Eleven hours?

Oh, I think they're loading our suitcases. Should we board? Let us stand on terra firma for just one more minute. Gladly. You know, not that I'm questioning the island plan. But? What about the Brotherhood? Will anyone ever find our services there?

I bought a radio. So we do everything via radio? Yes. Maybe we could travel just occasionally. Only between Pacific Islands, of course. It would not be safe, Arthur. Yes, all right.

I guess we're staying on Phoenix Island, then. Waiting for someone to find us. It is called Phoenix Island. What better place to look for us? You know, somehow I don't think that's enough to attract customers. Or do you imagine there will be a line of boats stretching along the coastline, full of clients that have been waiting years for us to arrive?

We will wait for someone to raid you. How do we survive? Fishing. Wonderful. I suppose there won't be any cocaine. Nope. There will be no heroin either. We're about to go cold turkey then, aren't we?

Yes. Oh, God. Well, we shall have to rely on patience. We will be better off then, Anita. You're right. You're right right have a look hmm what's this what what's in this in a pre-made identities thought of everything yes passports and birth certificates who am I this time Piotr Kozlowski surgeon polish huh let me see what I've got sir Hubert Hathaway III. British Lord. But yours is much better than mine.

Actually, I picked these two at random and threw the rest into the fireplace back at the inn. You know, I wonder if this isn't the worst we've ever been. The days of the Daily Phoenix seem a lifetime ago, don't they? I did so enjoy digging up celebrity gossip and getting scoops on the latest royal scandals. Oh, cheer up. We will rise from the ashes. We will be the best in the business again. But I have been thinking, Arthur. About what? You and I. I think we need a leader.

I thought you'd never ask. Happy to step up and... Someone else. Someone else? Yes, someone else. Someone else above us? Yes. Someone else. Someone else who would be telling us what to do? Exactly. Over my fake dead body.

my fake dead body. Kozlovsky? What? Your nose is bleeding. What? Oh, oh, oh my. Oh, my shirt. Do you have a second hanky? There you are.

Thank you. You're welcome. You know what? I've thought it through, and I think you might be right. Someone else. Someone else? Someone else, yes. Maybe we do need a leader.

By the way, about these identities... Yes? Should we swap?