Singh growls quietly to himself. Next time he'll bring a couple of tools.

Cynthia listens carefully downstairs for a bit longer, for signs of trouble or the ok from the boys upstairs. She finally decides must be safe, and goes up, keeping her lantern off and her tools still wrapped up, entered the ground level. She's more curious about Gavigan's office, and listens at the door before entering.

Inside the Penhew Institute, Main Floor:

Upstairs, Darlington peeked his head out the storeroom door, keeping watch. He saw Miss Holloway and Singh creep towards him. Nodding his understanding, he watched them enter Gavigan's office.

The Count was unable to read any of the inscriptions, and Ralph confirmed they were garbage, the sarcophagus was a fake.

Gavigan's office as they remembered it from the day. Books, a locked desk clear of any papers, a telephone, cabinets. There was a row of closets on the north wall. There was also a closed safe behind the desk.

Outside the Institute:

Outside, the fog had descended hard. Vision was limited to perhaps a block where there was a streetlight, pitch black in the alleyways.

The taxi had sufficient petrol to take them throughout the city, should that prove necessary. Howard settled in to wait about a half block away from the rear gate of the Institute.

At the rear gate itself, John-Marc kept a watch on the rear entrances and loading dock of the building.

In front of the Institute, Dr. Weston kept to the shadows. To all accounts he was just another Londoner out for a walk, like most Londoners. A little late, perhaps, but surely on the way home from his club or maybe a mistresses.

A couple blocks away in different directions, Perkins waited in the Count's delivery van while Karlheinz sat in the truck.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Wed 18 Apr 2012.

The Count having looked over the sarcophagus begins to try and open it. He checks the seam to get a finger hold.

As a last resort he will try to shift it thinking it must conceal a trap door.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:35, Thu 19 Apr 2012.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg #38):

The floor around the mummy case seems smooth and worn a little, as if the case swivels around a central pivot. Possibly concealing a trap door down.

It doesn't swing freely and he couldn't get his fingers into the seam of the case nor under the edges. There must be a catch somewhere.

"Professor, Inspector could you have a look at this?"

As the others gathered around the Count added;

"Look at this here and here, it looks like it moves in someway. Maybe a catch help me look."

The Count held his torch close as he examined the sarcophagus again in more detail with the other two.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg #40):

"Not Inspector, right? Wrong rank," corrected Darlington with a smile. "I don't call yer a Kin'g, do I? Detective or Detective Sergeant is fine. Naow, let's 'ave a look."

He looked at the case and couldn't find anything. He felt around the seam, couldn't find anything.

Singh stands by the door, listening for sound in the corridor, as Cynthia begins searching the room.

Cynthia begins checking in the closets, looking for secret doors or traps, then quickly glances through the books (just reaching behind and feeling for threads or false fronts). With that complete, she'll move to the desk, examining the lock to see if, with some jostling or forcing she could get it to open (without breaking it). As she's working, she whispers to Mr. Singh, "if one of the gentlemen feels up to popping a lock, his dexterity would be appreciated now."

Singh nods and slips into the corridor. He goes into the storeroom.

"Miss Holloway needs help unlocking a desk drawer," he whispers to their friends.

"Mr Singh would you mind looking at this ?

"I think it may have catch or be covering something."

Inside the Institute

Inside Gavigan's office, Cynthia was unable to find anything incriminating. The desk drawer wouldn't open.

However, the safe was unlocked and opened easily. Peeking inside, she could see stacks of pound notes in her torch beam, crisp and in wrappers.

Singh asked for help and DS Darlington answered, "Oi believe Oi got it. You chums keep on tha', yeah?"

Moving to the office, he quickly had the desk drawers open.

"Want me to 'ave a look, Miss?"

Outside the Institute

The London streets were quiet save for the foghorns out on the water. No one stirred in the fog.

"Yes please, Detective. Also, there are stacks of pound notes in the safe. I wasn't aware the institute kept so much petty cash."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg #47):

"Rather odd, yeah."

Looking into the safe, DS Darlington picked up a wad of bills and licked his lips. He then riffled the bills, did a mental count.

"There's abaaat five 'undred pounds there in new bills. Consecutively numbered. In an open safe. Rather careless, don't ya fink?"

Looking tempted, he slipped the bills back in and closed the safe.

Opening the desk drawers, they found office materials: pens and nibs, an inkpot and blotter, ledgers and forms. Nothing too suspicious.

Inside the storeroom, those investigating the mummy case prodded and probed for a catch of some kind. Looking at the face, it seemed the painted eyes were a little more worn than the face around it.

Molly made sure her hat was on her head and was immediately sorry she pushed so hard.  It had been a wonderfully sinful night of drinking and music but now it was time to pay the piper and that piper must have had a drummer friend who came along for the ride.

As she held on to the building and carefully stepped her way towards the streets her reporter instincts kicked in when she saw a car in the ally way.  She gingerly walked up to the car, swaying in both a fashionable and hung over manner, and approached.  Could it be?  Might it be?...

Molly walked up to the car and gently tapped on the window smiling as she noticed it was her friend Howard Lampton.  "Now what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg #49):

Rear Alleyway

It was indeed Howard's friend Molly, who'd been missing the last couple days since Friday, when she went to interview Miles Shipley. Mrs Shipley had said Molly had been turned away but the old woman and her son seemed so odd and suspicious that it seemed possible some sort of foul play had occurred.

Even her Uncle Mickey, the editor of the London Scoop, her paper, had telephoned the hotel earlier that very day to try and track her down.

So it seemed that Molley was indeed returned from the dead!
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:44, Sat 21 Apr 2012.

"Look here I think the eyes may be the switch"

Moving himself and anyone else out of the way of the worn floor area. The Count pushes the eyes and waits.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg #51):

When he pushed both eyes in at the same time, there was a click.

The case started to rotate slowly around the middle with a soft scrape along the floorboards. A narrow doorway down was concealed inside. The chamber below was in darkness.

"Well, well, well," breathed Ralph.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:25, Sat 21 Apr 2012.

The Count raised his finger to his lips as he stayed in a crouch and listened at the entrance to the chamber. He removed his automatic pistol from its underarm holster and held it in his right hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:22, Sat 21 Apr 2012.

Singh draws his revolver as well, standing to one side of the Count.

Cynthia, content that there's nothing in the office, moves to rejoin the group. But seeing the open passageway, she stops, listens, and waits. She's not eager to be the first to enter, not that Singh would let her anyway, but perhaps she can serve as lookout until the party is content the secret room is safe.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg #49):

"Hello, Miss Fuller, I'm driving a taxi tonight," says Howard, reaching across to open the front dooe, "Would you care to wait with me? You know, your uncle's been worried about you."

In reply to Howard Lampton (msg #56):

Molly winched at Howards loud voice.  Reason had it that he really wasn't talking loud because why would one talk loud in an alley at this time of day?  But his words seemed to be red hot pokers going directly into her brains.  From past experience Molly logically concluded that she a) had a wonderful time at the party she had left...whenever, and b) she was hungover.

"shhhh Howard..   I'm right here.  No need to go shouting all over the ally.  Thanks.  I could use a seat about now."  She hesitated and then winced as he mentioned her uncle.  "Yes, well dear ol Uncle <sigh> worries about me all the time.  Why should this time be different?  What does he expect?  I go to investigate stories and it's just not convenient to check in all the time.  I shall give the ol dear a jingle later shall I?"

Molly carefully opened the door and sat down in the car.  "This is much better.  Thank you Howard."

Inside the Institute

Everyone inside the ornate High Victorian museum building was now gathered in the storeroom, looking at a passageway down that had been concealed by a mummy case. That the mechanism was almost soundless indicated an electric motor of some kind.

Either way, they all stared down into the narrow stairwell leading into the darkness. All except for Darlington, who was keeping watch at the door. He hadn't drawn his revolver but did have his cosh in his hand, held down beside his leg.

Staring down into the passage, Fulty swallowed and said, "ah... you first, Count?"

Outside the Institute

The museum was an ornate High Victorian edifice. Only two stories but with high-ceilings, arches, cornices, and so on. It was surrounded by a wall, and John-Marc was at the rear gate, keeping watch. He heard footsteps in the blackness of the alleyway behind him, then saw a strange figure getting into the taxi where Howard waited, alone.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:26, Sun 22 Apr 2012.

"Of course."

With that he began to descend the staircase with his automatic in his right hand and torch in his left. He went sideways down the stairs, on the right to lessen any noise.

When he had a view into the room he switched his torch on and rapidly moved it side to side to disorientate anyone inside. He had used the technique when trench raiding during the Great War, he hope his luck was the same now.