Inevitably, the next morning arrived, giving everyone a chance to rest though it was questionable what quality of rest they managed to find given the nature of the errands they contemplated and the things they had heard since this whole matter had begun. Asim arrived early. Apparently, it had not been difficult to find a European living in the Old City, as there were not many. A series of inquiries had pointed him to a the location of the particular Dutchman in question, and Asim had found him in a filthy condition, passed out in a drunken stupor.

He was able to lead McNeil, Rosalie, and Fredde along with any others interested in speaking with the Dutchman to find him again. The man was sprawled on a poor mattress comprised of a pile of old rugs that lays on the floor of a cramped room that he, as per Asim, rents in the back of the shop of a rug seller. He seemed to be of average height and certainly plump, with an unhealthily bloated appearance. He was
unshaven, and wore a tiny pair of spectacles perched on his nose. His clothes seemed not to have been recently laundered, and he and his room smelled of perspiration and body odor and the smell of someone who has had too much to drink the night before. A few empty bottles of alcohol lay on the floor nearby.

He looked up with surprise as they barged into his room, with Asim at the head, his expression going from fear to consternation to indignation and then to friendliness as he first saw the physically imposing figure of Asim coming through the door, and then the group of Europeans behind him.

“What do you wa—how dare y—oh…Oh, hello there!” His first assertions were dedicated to Asim, but the latter were to Rosalie and the others.

Asim moved out of the way and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, letting his employers do the talking.

Although he’d forsworn further drinking until his current employment was at an end, McNeil had anticipated Vanheuvelen‘s condition, based on what he’d learned regarding the circumstances of the man’s dismissal. Stepping forward, he crouched down in front of the archaeologist, offering him his flask.

”Hair of the dog?” he asked. ”My name is Dominic McNeil, Dr. Vanheuvelen. This is Ms. Fredde ten Boom, one of my associates, and Ms. Rosalie Elias, our employer. We were hoping to speak with you about some of your experiences here in Egypt.”

"Ah, yes," he said, accepting the flask eagerly, shamelessly drinking from it before responding further.

"That hits the spot. Thank you. McNeil was it? English and Dutch eh! Bloody good to see some Europeans around here. A man can feel isolated at times. Well met, ladies, yes." He nodded at each of them. He seemed nervous and excitable, speaking fluent English with only a slight Dutch accent.

"Experiences in Egypt, oh, I do have quite a few at that. Not a doctor though, not just yet. All my experience is hard earned out here in the field - but of that, I can share a lot. What is it that you wish to learn? And how did you find me here?" His second question sounded a bit more suspicious, as if he just realized the strange circumstance of the meeting. He took another sip of McNeil's flask, only grudgingly offering it back to McNeil.

Fredde snorts as she enters the room, hit by the wall of stink like a physical blow. Her hand instinctively goes to cover her nose and mouth for a moment. Then she loses her temper.

She stalks two steps to loom over Vanheuvelen, shaking a finger at him.

"Kijk naar jezelf, je wentelend in je eigen vuil als een zwijn. Je zou wat respect voor jezelf moeten hebben. Je bent een professionele man. Handel als iemand in godsnaam."

She's Afrikaans rather than Dutch, but she's seen enough of Africa, its people and its ways to know that natives of any sort lose respect for all Europeans when they associate with one who shows lax habits. Besides, the Eliases need this man's knowledge.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Thu 12 Sept 2019.

He cowered a bit at her admonishment and looked abashed, before straightening up a bit and pointedly avoided looking at her, choosing instead to look at Dominic and Rosalie, though he looked as if he wondered if they knew Dutch.

Leo lingered in the doorway after the others had entered, observing the man and his mannerisms rather than immediately interacting directly with him.


The physician raised an eyebrow at Fredde's apparent anger, but didn't intervene or comment.

He smiled nervously at Leo as he entered the room, and took out a handkerchief to dab at the sweat that was beginning to accumulate on his brow. Something about the press of people descending upon him unexpectedly seemed to be making him nervous.

"That is to say, I'll be happy to tell you what you'd like to know, if you'd only speak it out."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:22, Thu 12 Sept 2019.

”Keep it,” McNeil said, indicating the flask.

”Mr. Vanheuvelen, I assure you, we’re only here to ask a few questions. There’s no need to feel alarmed. The gentleman who just stepped in is Dr. Leonardo Elias. Another of my employers.”

“We’re trying to learn more about the work of the Penhew Foundation. It’s my understanding that you worked with them recently, on the Clive Expedition. We were hoping you could share your experiences on that dig with us.”

He held up an appeasing hand. ”Please understand, we’re somewhat skeptical about some of the Foundation’s work, so you should feel free to be candid. Anything you tell us will be held in strictest confidence.”

"The strictest," Rosalie reiterated with a twinge of pity for the man.  She tried to convey her empathy for his situation.  He'd been fired, after all, and though that might have been of his own doing, she was still sorry for him.  "We understand that they found something interesting."

Leo tried to observe how the man spoke and tried to determine if he was being honest and forthcoming. Unfortunately, the mental state of either the man or the physician caused Leo difficulty in his assessment.

OOC: Failed Psychology roll.


21:28, Today: Dr. Leonardo Elias rolled 92 using 1d100 with rolls of 92.  Psychology (78).

"Oh, indeed we did!" he said, removing a few books from a chair and placed them in a stack on the floor, offering up a place to sit. Aside from the chair and the books, the Dutchman’s tiny room contained only a cot, a crude table, an oil lamp, and a couple of wine-bottle candles.

"I don't know much about the Penhew Foundation itself, though. I attached himself to the Clive Expedition when they arrived in Cairo. I stayed with them during their work at Giza, and I was there when the tomb with the female mummy was discovered," he said excitedly, taking another nip from the flask..

"You see, we discovered a secret chamber in Menhaura’s pyramid, the smallest one of the three at Giza, which contained the unprepared but preserved remains of an unknown Egyptian queen. No hieroglyphs identified the body, but the marvelous funerary trappings convinced Dr. Clive that here rested a great ruler. We made preparations for the removal of the casket and the mummy were in conjunction with the Egyptian authorities, as is standard procedure. The only thing we took out of the chamber was was an ornate gold coffer containing papyrus scrolls. But Dr. Clive said they were totally illegible. Of course, I'm sure you've heard, but the mummy, the sarcophagus, and even the police guards went missing abruptly a few days later. The strangest bloody thing I've ever heard of."

OOC:

Sorry for the delay, I just moved (across town, not interstate, but still an ordeal)
This message was last updated by the player at 15:17, Wed 18 Sept 2019.

Leaning her back against the door, Fredde rolls a cigarette and lights up, never taking her eyes from Vanheuvelen.

Since Fredde elected to lean, Rosalie took the offered seat, smoothing her skirt down as she sat.  Her hands rested on the clutch in her lap.  "Even the guards?  Disappeared?"  She threw the others a worried glance before her attention shifted back to the Dutchman.  "Who else would have known about the discovery besides those in the expedition and representatives of the Egyptian government?  Workers?  Was the press informed?  Was anyone or group suspected in the theft?"

He seemed a bit flabbergasted by the array of questions that Rosalie peppered him with, so naturally, he took another nip from the flask.

"Well, you see...three nights after our discovery we heard terrible screams from inside the pyramid, but by the time we went to investigate...No one knows how the thieves so quickly removed an alabaster sarcophagus weighing several tons; it would have taken our expedition several days, yet from the time of the hideous cry to the time that we entered the pyramid no more than twenty minutes had passed."

He sighed.

"As far as who else knew, I can't think of anyone. They Clive Expedition was very secretive, as are many expeditions, but I think more than most I have worked with. They kept everything between ourselves and the necessary authorities. The police came and they looked at the footprints with great scrutiny, but found none other than those of the expedition members and the authorities. I know little more of that matter, as I was dismissed shortly afterward."

He paused, considering. "Are you all on an expedition yourselves?"

”Of a kind,” McNeil told him, ”We’re retracing the steps of another researcher.”

He considered the information quietly for a moment. Although he didn’t verbalize his conviction, McNeil was certain that the sarcophagus remained in the possession of the Penhew Foundation, just a portion of the organization that was kept well hidden from the rest of the world.

”What an unsettling series of events. Mr. Vanheuvelen, I know you said the queen’s identity was unknown. After the find, before you departed the expedition, did you hear any theories regarding her identity? Were any clues uncovered that provided a hint of who she was? I know you mentioned the box with the papyri. Was there anything else...unusual that was found in the burial chamber?”

"Well, if you are looking for some help, I could be of an assistance in your field work. I have always wanted to be part of a famous expedition," he said, straightening his posture some and putting a cap on the flask. He set it down, though it wasn't out of reach.

"If there was any theory as to the ruler's identity, they didn't discuss it in front of me. I'm not an academic, you see, just a field archaeologist. All my experience is the practical sort. As for what they found there, I would say nothing that you wouldn't expect. The usual funerary trappings that you'd expect. You know, if you want to meet with Clive and his people, I could help set that up..."
This message was last updated by the player at 21:30, Tue 24 Sept 2019.

McNeil glanced over his shoulder at the others, then returned his attention to Vanheuvelen. ”A meeting with Dr. Clive might prove quite enlightening. Tell me, did you work with him closely while you were with the dig? Was he passionate about the expedition?”

"Oh yes, he was very passionate about this matter. And I worked very closely with him. I mean, there's a certain distance that the Penhew Foundation people keep from their hired help, of course, but it's only natural. They are a prestigious foundation, after all. So yes, I worked closely with him, but they weren't the sort to share information freely. I think they were very concerned that if they spread the information too far, that someone else would beat them to the discovery, and with good reason! It was stolen right from underneath us!"

Leo continued to observe the meeting and keep an ear out for anything that might be happening elsewhere.

Dominic seemed to be making progress, so the physician didn't feel the need to step in.

"Wouldn't the means of your departure from the expeditionary team make it difficult for you to set up a meeting?"  Rosalie finally asked.  She wasn't sure why the man had been fired, but such events usually involved the burning of metaphorical bridges.  "Are you still on good terms with them despite no longer being involved with them?"

"I don't suppose they would be eager to rehire me, if that's what you're asking, but I'm on good terms with everyone on the expedition on a personal level," he said.

"I didn't burn bridges - nothing went wrong on account of my conduct. It just did not work well with Clive's personal work ethic - he runs a tight ship. Tighter than I'm accustomed to. If anyone should be angry at them it should be me, for being abandoned here in Egypt with limited resources...but they have no cause to be angry with me."