"Not to invite myself, but I would also like to accompany Miss Womack," O'Rourke says.

OOG: Assuming there are no objections...

IG: The group makes its way back to the Darlingtons' flat, where Louis produces the items taken from Claude. Womack sits down with Louis beside her to pore through the diary. At length, she looks up. "Other than the descriptions of the shipments, the only information she recorded was her British contact she only called 'McD'. She paid him five hundred dollars on the last shipment."

Robert brewed tea for the ladies and poured himself a gin and tonic as they reviewed the journal. "McD...  how long ago was the payment made, can you tell?  That might provide some further triangulation."

"I remember that Claude bought a new dress a fortnight ago," Womack says. "We tried to keep the businesses private as much as we could."

"A fortnight... well that would give us a bit more of a time frame.  We'll want to examine the records of arrivals and departures as well as the logs in customs.  It should help pinpoint at least a few likely suspects."  He rose and offered Louis a hand.  "Shall we go ladies?"

As if they were of one mind, Louis and O'Rourke check their pistols, and slip them into hidden holsters. Louis takes Robert's hand, and Womack walks toward the door.

O'Rourke looks at Robert. "Shall we meet for lunch at the Explorer's Club, then?"

Robert checks his own pistols, the large Webley supplemented by a smaller pocket pistol as a back-up.  "Yes, I'm sure we'll be quite hungry by then and can check back in a private booth."

He took Louis' hand and headed out the door with the three women.  He and Louis would go to the docks and do some sniffing about.

Syrtis Major (Monday, April 1, 1889, 9:30AM)

Robert and Louis take a cab and arrive at the warehouse district located off Meepsoor Road about a mile east of the Shipyard District. They both recognize the area, since it where the shootout occurred.

There is a fair bit of traffic on the main road, with heavy freight wagons moving about. There is also a visible police presence, with an officer on every third corner.

Robert asks the cab driver about the heavy police presence.

The cabbie is a young man, barely out of his teens. "There was a great awful gun battle here a week ago. Some people were killed, and the Germans are madder than wet hens. The army is out on maneuvers, so it's up to the police to watch things here in the city."

"You have much information, young sir," Louis observes.

The cabbie shrugs. "People talk, m'lady."

"Indeed they do," she says wryly.

Robert continues the line of questioning as the cabbie seems willing to talk.  "What have you heard about the gun battle?  Why are the Germans in particular angry?"

"A bloke and three women got into a shootout with some Germans. One of the women and several Germans were killed. The police, the army, and the navy are all in it, too. The people who started it got arrested." The man shrugs. "I don't know what it was all about, though."

Robert nods sagely. "And what about the Germans?  It seems an awful lot of cheek starting a shoot out in British territory?"

"They claim it was self-defense, if you can believe that. Once the police and the army showed up, they jumped in some canal boats and hauled off up the canal."

Robert shook his head, making a show not entirely put on of disgust and contempt.  "Did anyone track them down?  Any red blooded man would want to see those cowards put paid."

"I don't really know. Someone said they just vanished among the other boats on the canal."

Robert growled in legitimate frustration. "Any red blooded Englishman would demand to put paid to these dastards.  Do you know anyone that might have been around the docks and seen more about the boats they used?"

"The stevedores know more about the boats than anyone, save the boatmen themselves."

Robert exchanged glances with Louis as the conversation continued.  "Well, perhaps we'll have to pay the stevedores a visit.  Is there a pub that they tend to frequent nearby?"

"Aye, the Martian Winds, two blocks that way," he points to the south. "Beggin' yer pardon, but my next fare has arrived." Robert looks up to see a group of workers approaching the cab.

Robert tips the man handsomely and offers his arm to Louis.  As they move off he speaks softly to her.  "I think that a visit to the public house later in the day after our primary investigations are complete is in order."

Louis nods. "I agree. Where to, now?"

"Let's go look at the log in customs to try and pinpoint this captain.  Then we can talk a bit on the waterfront and finally see what the stevedores have to say."

The Royal Navy's Customs Office is located near both the Interplanetary Port, and the Meepsor Canal, serving both in one facility. It is located in a large warehouse, which Robert and Louis arrive at in short order.

Robert's credentials are enough to gain him entry to the facility. He stands just inside the entrance gate, and sees there are several offices to his right, and a dozen warehouse doors to his left. A long line of freight wagons sits on the street, waiting to load the incoming cargo.

Robert walks down the line of offices looking for that of a supervisor.

One of the office doors is labeled "Customs Manager".