In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 59):

"Funny, Mr. Emerson mentioned ol' Silas and Ju-Ju House as well. Sounds a likely prospect."

Art looks up from a map of New York he has been perusing. "I concur - the Ju-Ju House sounds interesting. And will you look at this - it's right in the middle of Little Africa!"

Later in the evening, you head to the Lafayette Theater, also known as “The Beautiful House,” at 132nd Street and Seventh Avenue. Millie Adams and Rebecca Shosenburg are waiting for you under the theater’s marquee. Once everyone has arrived, Millie Adams ushers you into the smart lobby, past the ticket booths and cloakrooms, and through into the stalls. Various cleaners and other members of staff smile and greet Mrs. Adams as she passes. They also seem to know Miss Shosenburg. The house lights are fully up in the main auditorium as Millie shows you to seats in the center of the stalls.

Millie is an elegant African-American woman with fine features. She is, understandably, guarded when it comes to speaking with you. If asked why the meeting is taking place at the theater, she replies that she’s worked there since it opened, as a musician and singer, and until she got the measure of you, she wasn’t going to invite you into her home.

Although her husband didn’t confide everything he knew about the deaths and disappearances in Harlem over the last few years to her, he did tell her one or two of his suspicions. She has since attempted to confirm those for herself. Hilton has asked her not to do this, as he worries that Captain Robson may frame her for a crime as well, but Millie has refused to put her own safety ahead of that of her husband. This is what she tells you;

• Hilton grew concerned when Harlem locals began to disappear several years ago. As the number of disappearances increased, Hilton turned to a group of friends from the saloon they all hung out at (Teddy’s, two blocks over from the Lafayette Theater), all of whom had served in the Harlem Hellfighters (an African-American infantry unit in the Great War who spent more time in combat than any other American unit). They began organizing patrols to try and protect members of the community, alongside trying to find out who was responsible, after the police at the 32nd Precinct refused to take the matter seriously.

• Even after the mutilated bodies started appearing a couple of years back, the police still refused to do anything, claiming gang violence and street robberies gone wrong as the cause, despite the pronouncements regarding an African death cult by “some old crackpot with too much time on his hands” (Robson’s description of Mordecai Lemming).

• Hilton and his friends focused on the death cult link and managed to turn up a reference in the New York Public Library about some long-dead cult from East Africa. Her husband didn’t tell her what it was called, and the police confiscated the journal in which he kept all his notes regarding the case. Millie remembers her husband using a strip of red cloth as a bookmark in the journal. She suspects it had some significance, but the police also confiscated it.

• The group’s continued activities didn’t go down well with the police, who warned Hilton about the dangers of stirring up trouble. Pressure was also applied to a couple of Hilton’s friends by their employers; members of the conservative old guard who were concerned that the group’s activities would only bring Harlem into disrepute, especially all the cult nonsense, which (as far as they were concerned) just played into white perceptions of black people as uneducated savages. This was further backed up by their respective church elders in a series of pointed sermons.

• Despite her husband’s reticence to include her in his inquiries, he did mention that he thought there was a cult operating in Harlem, and that they were probably paying the police to turn a blind eye to their activities, just like all the other criminal gangs did.

• One night, shortly before his arrest, Millie overheard her husband mention the name “Ju-Ju House” to his friend, Needham Johnson, who works as a reporter at the New York Age.

• Her husband was arrested in September 1924 after he was found standing over the body of a middle-aged white man in a dingy alley not far from the Harlem branch of the New York Public Library. The police, allegedly alerted by the dying man’s screams, claimed to have seen Hilton throw away a bloody knife when confronted. The knife—Hilton’s army-issue bolo knife—was reportedly recovered from the scene and formed the crux of the prosecution’s case against him, although Millie never remembers her husband taking the knife out with him when he went on patrol.

• Their neighborhood and the patrons at Teddy’s raised money to help pay for Hilton Adams’ defense, as the New York Legal Aid Society judged that his case wasn’t worthy enough to qualify for one of their attorneys. They only had enough to pay for the trial and one appeal. The money’s all gone now, so it’s only a matter of time before her husband is escorted to the electric chair.

As she finishes telling her story, Millie offers you a deal: if you agree to try and exonerate her husband, she will provide you with information that may lead to the true killers. Now that Hilton’s friends have apparently given up the fight through fear and intimidation, she has no one else to turn to, and she knows the authorities don’t take her suspicions seriously.



This message was last edited by the GM at 15:48, Tue 28 Aug 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 62):

Gustav gestures to Mrs. Adam for her attention and tells her that Gustav is a police detective and that we shall do our best to help her husband clear her name.

"Where do you suggest we start digging Mrs. Adams, do you have any other documents that you were able to save from the police?"

Looking at Mr. Murphy, Gustav mused "We might need to setup another meeting with Capt. Robson... Or break in to his precinct's evidence room.... Or maybe both..."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:10, Tue 28 Aug 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 62):

"It sounds to me like we're on the same path, Ms. Adams. This cult murdered our friend who called us here to investigate, and as far as I'm concerned, bringing those lunatics down is our goal. If we can help your husband in the process, I'm glad to exchange information with you to meet our mutual ends."

Dermot shoots a cautioning glance at the reporter as he speaks in a low voice to Gustav: “I like what you’re thinking. This time, let’s be sure to use stealth and finesse to keep everything on our terms. We could case the office tonight, maybe find out their security arrangements.”

In reply to GM (msg # 62):

"Mrs Adams, may I have a word in private?"

Being born into the upper crust of British society, Bromley is rather uncomfortable discussing money - Especially to those in need of it.

Leading her aside, Bromley stresses he believes her husbands innocence. Considering what they saw in Jackson's room he sincerely doubts anyone of his companions doesn't believe this goes deeper.

"Mrs Adams... I am a very wealthy man. I would personally like to fund your husbands legal defence. If you have someone in mind, please let me know. The sooner we can get to the bottom of this ghastly affair and save your husband, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."

As soon as Bromley steered Millie away, Rachel raised an eyebrow at Gustav and Dermot who seemed entirely too comfortable with the idea of breaking and entering.

"Why is breaking and entering the first option? If the man is on the take, you simply give him a better offer. Or if that's too hard, pay his lackey, I'm sure they don't get paid as well as he is getting paid." Rachel whispered through gritted teeth.

"Everything points to the Juju House. I could check on it first thing tomorrow in day time. It'll be less suspicious--I'll say I'm buying antiques for the shop. Also, Millie mentioned that the earliest she can get us to Hilton is Tuesday--but if Hilton spoke to his friend Needham Johnson about it, maybe he'd be willing to talk to us as well. I'll try to find Johnson."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:32, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

When Bromley tells Millie that he’s willing to pay for her husband’s appeal, she nearly collapses in tears, thanking him profusely. “I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Aveline-Edgeware! We will be forever in your debt if you would do this. I will help in any way I can!”

Millie tells you that the Ju-Ju House is an African art emporium in Harlem, run by one Silas N’Kwane. The shop is at 1 Ransom Court, a cluttered alley off West 137th Street, east of Lenox Avenue. This short alley opens into a 6 m square court. The only doors from the court are those of Ju-Ju House and the back door of an abandoned pawnshop that fronts onto 138th Street.

Since Millie started watching the premises after her husband’s arrest, she has noted that, once a month, usually between 20–30 people file into the shop in the early hours of the morning. The timings coincide with when her husband and his friends used to go out on patrol. The attendees are a mixed bunch; some she swears are tramps and lowlifes, while others look like the sort of people her husband worked with in construction (i.e. blue-collar workers). She didn’t personally recognize any of them, though.

Once, Mrs. Adams saw crates going into Ransom Court on a night when there was a gathering, about an hour or so before the “guests” arrived. She concedes that there might just be a very exclusive speakeasy in the basement beneath Ju-Ju House (after all, there are a lot of similar establishments in basements all across the city) and that the crates might merely contain supplies of alcohol, but she has a horrible feeling that, given the disappearances also seem to tie to gathering nights, there’s a more sinister explanation for the crates’ contents. She has also seen police detectives going into Ransom Court during daylight hours; not necessarily unusual in itself, but it could be to pick up payoffs from Silas N’Kwane, if the 32nd Precinct is as corrupt as her husband suspected.

She has never approached the shop directly, or physically entered Ransom Court, let alone Ju-Ju House. Once, she managed to get into the tenement building overlooking the court, but she admits that was the one time she was almost spotted by one of the people hanging around in the alleyway, so she hasn’t tried that since.

“I know there’s an abandoned pawnshop next to the Ju-Ju House. If you wanted to ‘case the joint’… is that the expression? – then that might be an option. They normally close for business around 5 PM - but I've also seen Silas leave the shop at lunchtime and an hour or two in the early evening and head to a nearby diner.”

She draws you a sketch of the area on a notebook page;


This message was last edited by the GM at 15:53, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Teetotal during the day, Teddy’s does have a basement speakeasy for the regulars after hours. The interior is plainly, though comfortably, furnished, with tables and booths around the walls. The central tables can be removed for parties and dances, and there is a small stage at the far end of the single room. A bar lines one wall, serving sodas and hot drinks, as well as a limited food menu. The lighting is adequate, although the thick pall of cigarette and cigar smoke clouds the atmosphere, aided and abetted by the grubby front window. The four men are huddled in their booth in the basement, drinking coffee and chatting.

People look up as you enter, and the room falls quiet, but Art Mills smiles as he spots Gustav. “What the hell! Look what the cat dragged in. The ugliest man alive!”

The other three men are not so pleased to see a lawman in their favourite haunt, especially accompanied by other strangers. It takes a lot of persuasion and charm to bring them around.  Eventually, another table is pulled over and you settle down to talk. The meeting does not go smoothly: each of the men feels a deep sense of guilt at abandoning their friend to his fate, and each has their reasons for wanting to stay out of any further investigation, be it their job security, family safety, or loss of hope.

The friends of Hilton Adams have little more to offer than what Millie has already told you, besides the following:

• After a while, they figured out there was a pattern forming regarding the disappearances: usually two people, sometimes more, at the same time every month.

• Once, Hilton managed to stumble across someone being attacked when out on patrol and drove the attacker off. In the fight, he tore a strip of red cloth from some sort of weird mask the attacker was wearing. It wasn’t long after that that the police starting making their threats.

• There is no physical evidence besides that piece of cloth, which the police took. Everything else was purely observation and conjecture, all recorded in Hilton’s journal; also taken by the police. They probably don’t even exist anymore.

• Hilton was convinced he’d tracked down a new lead, something to do with Ju-Ju House, but he was arrested before he could confirm his suspicions.

• There’s no point going to the newspapers with tales of police harassment and brutality, as well as some sort of cover up. Everyone is already well aware that the police are paid to turn a blind eye, and no one is going to take their word over that of a white police captain. Besides, as they’ve already mentioned, they have no physical evidence to back up their side of the story.

As you thank the men and get up to leave, Jackie Wallace adds a final remark; “You need to realize that it’s a cruel, cruel thing to raise a woman’s hopes if you have no intention of seeing it through to the bitter end, whatever that may be; justice isn’t only for the dead.”

You leave Teddy’s Saloon and travel the short distance to West 137th Street, the location of the Ju-Ju House. A small sign next to a cluttered alley reads;

Ju-Ju House – African Emporium. Open 9 AM to 5 PM. Closed Sundays.

Peeking into the alley, you can see that it leads to an open courtyard, surrounded by tall buildings. Three men in scruffy clothes are lounging near the doorway to a small shop.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:38, Thu 30 Aug 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 70):

Seeing these three vagabonds at the end of the alley, Dermot pulls his head back out of sight.

"It looks like the goon squad doesn't get Sundays off. Let's check 138th and see what the back looks like. Perhaps we'll access the pawn store without attracting too much attention. Rachel, since you'll be the face of our investigation tomorrow, perhaps you'd like the good doctor to escort you home? Can't be havin' you seen with us in the event we're caught snooping around."

In reply to GM (msg # 68):

Gustav goes over to Art Mills and embraced the musician, remembering the man who helped him get laid during a weekend pass in France

"We're the best smelling infantryman in the trenches after that hahahaha"

The two of them shares a few minutes recalling thier time in the war, Gustav eyed the other negroes then proceeded to order schnapps for everyone.

"I won't share mine if you wont share yours"

After a while, Gustav goes with Mr. Murphy to the Ju-Ju House. He pulls out his revolver and whispers,

"Any bright ideas Mr. Murphy?"

In reply to Dermot Murphy (msg # 71):

"Put that gun away, you fool. Let's go 'round."

Heading around back, the party finds the door to be locked. The street isn't entirely deserted, but those present are more focused on keeping their footing and struggling through the icy cold. Removing a couple of small rods from his overcoat, Dermot murphy sets to work, barely managing the task with his false hand.

"Someone mind holding this right in this exact position?"

With a little help, he manages to swing the door open. Quickly filing inside, we find...


This message was last edited by the player at 19:43, Thu 30 Aug 2018.

Dermot attends to the locked door to the pawnshop and is rewarded with a click from the lock. You enter quickly and close the door behind you.

The interior of the pawnshop is dusty and bitterly cold. There are frequent scuttling noises and obvious signs of rodent visitors, as well as rows of empty glass cabinets and shelves. The light switches also don’t appear to be working. While it is undercover and, therefore, better than being out on the street, this isn’t a comfortable place to hide by any means. From within the pawnshop, the back door may be opened slightly to allow a narrow view of the entrance to Ju-Ju House.

After about half an hour in the freezing cold room, you spot the door to the Ju-Ju House opening. A muscular, shavenheaded African man leaves the shop, bundled up against the cold. The loafers outside nod respectfully as he walks past them.

Upon Dermot's suggestion, Rachel takes Art's arm and heads over to the nearby diner.

"We'll wait for you over there, then we can all head back together." Rachel says as she heads over to the diner with Art.

You leave the freezing cold of the pawnshop and return to Rachel’s house to try and get warm again. The next day is Sunday, January 18. Arriving back at 137th street, there’s quite a few more people on the streets. The day is cold but there are clear skies.

You walk through the alley and into the courtyard. It is currently empty. The shop-front on the court consists of a display window and a glass door. Both are curtained, so that the interior of the shop cannot be seen. In the display window are pieces of African art. According to the handwritten card propped up in the bottom corner of the window, shop hours are 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., closed on Sundays, with lunch between 12 and 1 p.m.

The shop interior is a mere 5 by 6 m and dirty, dusty, and piled with African tribal artifacts and bric-a-brac—devil masks, leather headed drums, stuffed model giraffes, carved wildebeests, dull hand weapons intended for display, ivory warthogs, and so on. The shop has an oppressive, uneasy feel to it.

A cluttered waist-high glass cabinet acts as a counter and behind it is a heavy curtain, most likely leading the back room.

Searching the shop reveals a ledger behind the counter containing records of the shop’s income and expenses, including weekly payments to one “W.R.” In the back room you find a hideous Bloody Tongue mask, complete with mummified human tongue, as well as a knife similar to those carried by Jackson’s killers, wrapped in a leopard skin beneath the bed.

Dermot notices a slight dip in the rug behind the counter. Beneath the rug is the inset steel handle of a trap door. Lifting the trap door and laying it back on its hinges reveals a set of stairs barely wide enough for one person…

The whole interior of the shop was stuffed with all sorts of bric-à-brac. As the rest went through it, Rachel did her best to snap a few photos, making sure no one was passing through the streets as she did so, to avoid her attracting their attentions with the flash.

She snapped several photos of the mask with the tongue and the knife, making sure she got a good photo of it.

"Is this enough evidence to incriminate them?"

The steep stairs lead downward nearly 6m and end in a corridor 3 m long that, in turn, stops at a stout door. The walls, ceiling, and floor of this corridor are stone. The ceiling is 2.5 m above the floor. Cut into the stone slabs are arcane tribal symbols.

The door at the end of the corridor leading down from the shop above is oak reinforced with iron strips. Cut into the wood are more symbols. The door is locked and seems sturdy.

Gustav curses as he breaks the lock trying to pick up. "Sonnabitch", says Bromley and kicks at the lock with his foot. Gustav does the same and the door flies open.

Beyond the door is a large chamber, with a 15 foot (4.5 m) high ceiling. All surfaces are of dressed stone and carved with cult symbols. Torches in wall niches light the chamber. A curtain shields a small alcove opposite the door. Large African drums line the walls. At one end of the room is a pit, some 8 feet (2.5 m) diameter, covered by a thick stone block. A large winch seems to be designed to lift the block.

The second picture is an ‘exploded’ view of the chamber, showing all the sides of the room at the same time.

Dermot moves the curtain aside. Inside he sees an alcove that is 6 feet (1.8 m) square. A wrapped-up leopard’s hide is leaning against the back wall, well out of the way. A long-feathered robe of shimmering colors and a pair of lion’s claw gloves hang on a peg on the rear wall, with a modern-looking chronometer is situated above them.

Also in the alcove are, are also four dead men, somehow still standing upright, two along each side wall. They have been horribly mutilated, their intestines dangling out and their foreheads incised with the rune of the Bloody Tongue…  The eyes of the closest one focuses suddenly on Dermot and the corpse lunges at him!

[Dermot and anyone who sees this - SAN roll for 0/1D8 please]

This message was deleted by the player at 17:35, Sat 01 Sept 2018.

After defeating the cimbii, you check the alcove and carefully unwrap the leopard skin. It holds the following items;

A Bloody Tongue mask, decorated with a mummified human tongue

A long feathered robe of shimmering color.

Lion’s claws: taken from a lion and fixed to glove-like garments so that they may be worn.

Five books: The Pnakotic Manuscripts, Sélections de Livre D’Ivon, Africa’s Dark Sects, Amongst the Stones, and Life as a God.

A carved wooden African mask with four hideous faces perched atop a thick, corded neck with a basketlike reed, feather, and fabric collar that hides the wearer’s face.

A burnished copper bowl: etched with unrecognizable runes and signs.

A headband of grey metal: various cuneiform-like runes are scratched into the surface of this heavy, curiously warm, metal band.

A locked cash box