The Geranium Affair ....A Little Drabble Do Ya

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“Illya...”

The Russian went straight past the doorway without entering... for the third time, ignoring his partner's call. Not that it was unlike him to do that, of course, but...

“What the hell...” Napoleon Solo rushed out of his office and found himself in a deserted hallway. Deserted but not silent.

There were voices. Nothing to do with the Uncle daily routine.

There was this indefinable scent, something like... humus. Humus?

There were those red blots on the floor.

He drew his gun.

“Napoleon!”

His partner's voice, urgent.

He stiffened.

“Make yourself useful! Bring water for Mrs Waverly's spring geranium!”