Spencer — The American Navy Captain

Who you are

Things had been going your way for a long time. Then somewhere between a bottle of gin and that troublesome woman, your life took a dramatic turn to the South. Still — there's some hope yet. If you can clear things up, you might still make Commander one day.

You are a pioneering U.S. Navy pilot who served as the first commanding officer of Naval Air Station, San Diego. You are also an alcoholic, publicly so: your divorce from your first wife, Bessie, was reported in the papers with the New York Times describing you (in a phrase you cannot forget and cannot forgive) as suffering from "habitual intemperance." You drank as much as she did. She just had better lawyers.

You are one of two people at this table who instigated a crime — though yours was botched and misdirected, and the moment you sobered up you realized how badly you'd fouled it.

Your catchphrase: "habitual intemperance." Drop it at least once per act. Preferably while holding a drink. Delivery tic: raise your glass in a mock toast as you say it. Thomas will quote every catchphrase during the reveal — make yours land.

How to play

• Don't show anyone your sheets.
• You can lie. Constantly. You will.
• You paid Josephine to plant a bomb aboard the Hindenburg. Emilia survived. Josephine survived. Ulla did not.
• Bribe. Be bribed. You especially want to keep the money that flows from you to Josephine untraceable.
• Solve the mystery. Redirect toward George's plot against Emilia. You know something's off with that pair.

Intro — open when Thomas reads the Hindenburg broadcast

You can still feel the heat from the explosion. You had wanted to be there when the airship landed — to get your business concluded and be done with it. Rather fortunate, now, that they hadn't let anyone near the landing site. You'd be walking away with a lot worse than singed eyebrows.

Something must have gone terribly wrong to cause such a disaster. You were hoping — well — that Josephine didn't survive the crash, but more important that the authorities couldn't prove anyone had been paid. There's more than one way to conclude a business deal, and a dead messenger is one of them.

But then she landed alive. And you watched her drag herself away. And some part of you that still knows which side is up decided: get her out. She's a live witness, and a live witness you've paid is a live witness you control. You pulled her from the wreckage.

**You were accomplished — no — you are accomplished.** A proud pioneering U.S. Navy pilot. Blasted women and their finicky personalities. Habitual intemperance — what did that even mean? She drank as much of it as you did. What ever happened to honoring your husband? It's good she didn't see you there at the airship. You wouldn't have wanted to answer those questions. Not after all the progress you've made. You're so close to Commander. You can't let anyone get in the way of that now.

You remember the Saucy Soiree. You crashed it, drunk, three gins in. You befriended Eddie over a mutual hatred of Japanese whaling treaties. You saw Bessie — your ex-wife — come out of a back hallway with her lipstick smudged all over her neck. You also saw Emilia in the next hallway over, alone, fixing her hair. You connected the wrong two dots. You got angrier and angrier. You found the bartender. You tipped her $500 and pressed an envelope into her hand. You didn't say what was in it.

You are, it will turn out, wrong. It wasn't Emilia.

Act 1 — The Engagement Party (London) — open when Thomas announces Act 1

Real stroke of luck that you ended up here. Not exactly in Bessie's good graces, but Eddie has rather taken a liking to you. Not sure what all this whale business is about, but it sounds like it has traction — could be just the thing to get you back on your feet. Might not want to be drinking around Emilia, but a cocktail never killed anybody. You've only had three or four so far.

Remember:

• You weren't invited to the Saucy Soiree. Somewhere between a shot of rum and a bottle of gin, you found yourself there anyway.
• Bessie reached out after the Soiree: "Let bygones be bygones. If you insist on being a part of each other's life, let's have it be amicable." You have accepted. You are also smoldering with old jealousies under a polite expression.
• You met Eddie at the Soiree. You share a lot — navy men both. You like him. You don't want him to find out about you and Bessie. Technically he already knows Bessie was married before. He doesn't know the specifics.
• Bessie's lipstick was smudged at the Soiree. That still bothers you. You think you know whom she was with. You are wrong.
• You saved someone from the Hindenburg crash. As far as you know, no one knows you were there.

What you want to find out:

• Who hooked up with whom at the Saucy Soiree? Make an accusation if you suspect an adulterous pair. Sometimes it's best to get these things out in the light.
• Who at the party has a high public profile? Bessie never could resist the famous ones.

End-of-act beat (scripted, mandatory): Late in the act — ideally when several guests are clustered around — Thomas will call on you and ask what you think of the Hindenburg tragedy. You are drunk. You blurt:

*"Rotten luck — I was just there…"*

Then clamp your mouth shut. Look alarmed. Refuse to elaborate further. Let the moment hang. Pretend you said it by accident. You did say it by accident.

If you forget, Thomas will press you with a follow-up: "Spencer, you're looking a bit singed, old chap — was the New Jersey sun particularly harsh this May?" That's your cue. Say the line then. Do not skip this beat — the Hindenburg plot leans on it.

Your catchphrase: "habitual intemperance." (If someone calls you out as drunk, it's the perfect opening.)

Act 2 — The Whaling Agreement (Seville) — open when Thomas opens Act 2

All that time talking about whales has paid off. I mean — you loved spotting a whale as much as the next sailor — but this is certainly a lot of hullabaloo. Still, Eddie is definitely the chap to know, and you weren't going to turn down an invitation to Seville. You heard Emilia is in town at the Hotel Alfonso. Maybe worth checking in to see if she's all right.

Remember:

• The guilt is starting to eat at you. You want to make sure Emilia is all right. You know from your time in the Navy that with a ship that big going down, even survivors can have lasting damage.
• Maybe you should stop drinking. But as long as no one knows just how much gin you're drinking, it's all right.
• You saw George in the Hotel Alfonso before the Whaling Agreement started. He was arguing with someone on the phone. The Spanish was terrible. The English was worse.
• You bumped into Josephine at the hotel. She was surprised to see you — understandably. You two share a secret neither of you can tell.

What you want to find out:

• Who's drinking as much as you are and hiding it? The bartender denied service to someone last night.
• Are Emilia's flight plans all set for the big trip? You have an unsettling feeling she's still the target of something.

Hush money (mandatory — "cover up the accident"): You're beginning to think people suspect you were involved in the Hindenburg — which, well, you were. Make sure Josephine ends the act with at least $15 more than she started. The money cannot be traced to you — route it through the other guests. Negotiate, cajole, imply favors. Do not be seen paying her yourself.

Your catchphrase: "habitual intemperance."

Act 3 — Takeoff from New Guinea — open when Thomas announces Act 3

Well, this is a jolly good show, isn't it. Your investment in the right friend groups paid off. You are now the commander of the new naval base in San Diego — technically, acting commander, pending confirmation — and you're here as an official ambassador of the U.S. Navy to appear in pictures during Emilia's flight. Things are turning around, rather splendidly so.

There's a catch. You just got divorced — again. Your second wife took a bath on the settlement; she knew what she was doing. You're broke in a new way, and the monthly payment to Josephine has become impossible. You told her last week: no more money. You do not know how she took the news. Fine, probably. She's a practical woman.

Remember:

• You've curbed your drinking habit — it only took you two divorces to do so. First divorce from Bessie was a long time ago. That you managed to find, marry, and divorce someone since the Whaling Agreement is quite the feat.
• Eddie and Bessie appear happy. You'd have thought all the swirling rumors would create more friction between the pair. Maybe she's finally settled.
• It was strange that Emilia dedicated her flight to Eddie. He's married to another woman, after all.
• Josephine hasn't publicly said anything about the Hindenburg. Fortunately. But why not? Now that you've stopped paying her — is she on someone else's dime?
• You saw George talking to Thomas, repeatedly. Granted, Thomas works for the man. But why is George hovering around a low-level reporter?

What you want to find out:

• Is Josephine about to blackmail someone else? Or out you publicly?
• What is George's arrangement with Thomas?

Your catchphrase: "habitual intemperance."

BREAKING NEWS (when Thomas reads it):

FAMED AVIATOR IN TROUBLE. REPEATED RADIO CONTACT HAS GONE UNANSWERED. AUTHORITIES FEAR THE WORST. LAST SPOTTED NEAR HOWLAND ISLAND, FLYING AT TOO LOW OF AN ALTITUDE. PILOT AND CO-PILOT PRESUMED DEAD.

Someone has tampered with Emilia's plane. Someone has, in other words, done to her what you tried to do at the Hindenburg. It wasn't you this time. But it's a familiar move. Look at George. Look at Thomas. Think about what you saw. You have clean hands for this one. Claim that loudly if you need to.