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11 East 73rd St., New York, NY
January 16, 1925



This message was last edited by the GM at 02:33, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

Bishop had driven the others back to the Elias home. Given what Poole had said about the killing and it connection to others killings that were believed to be ritualistic murders by a secretive cult, Bishop suggested that everyone spend the night at the Elias home.

Once everyone was settled in, Bishop had gotten a bottle and a glass and poured himself a double. For the first time he let it hit him that Jack was dead. There would need to be arrangements, a wake and a funeral. Stanley had lost a lot of friends during the war, he had lost his wife and daughter, and now he had lost his oldest friend. He felt like there was less and less of him everyday. Even he knew he was a shadow of the man he had been.

Having killed Jack's killers helped. But they were part of something bigger. something evil. It seemed that Jack was just one of many to die at their hands. Bishop had no idea how many of them there were left, but sitting alone with his guns and his drink in the dark parlor of the Elias home, he committed to seeing them destroyed.

Waking in the armchair, he had gone to the kitchen where he knew he would find the cooks baking bread and preparing for breakfast. The cooks were all red eyed, and occasionally one would break into sobbing before the others braced them. The Elias family were kind employers, and although Jack was often traveling his loss was a great blow to all.

After breakfast a more than a few cups of coffee, Stan made his way back to the parlor. It was well suited to a gathering of those who had been to the hotel. Jack had sought help, Stan and Bo had already committed to help, but while capable men their was likely a need for skills that neither men possessed.

Jack's murder might have been an old score, settled when he returned to New York, or it might be related to his investigation into the ill fated Carlyle Expedition. Either way it would likely call for some continued research into the esoteric world which Jack had inhabited these past years. Some of the others possessed the needed skills and while now doubt in shock were likely to want to help.

When Stanley heard the paper delivered he went out to retrieve it and looed for reports, while he waited for the others to rise.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:49, Sun 03 Aug 2014.

Leo had spent most of his time since the events at the hotel consoling his wife, grieving in his own way, making arrangements, and seeing that everyone was able to stay comfortable in his residence. It felt good to have people around - Leo just wished the circumstances were otherwise.

He took his breakfast with his wife, who was intermittently breaking down, and helped her with some of the arrangements. However, once he finished with what he could do, he kissed his wife on the cheek and excused himself to join the others.

Leo went to his own room and snatched his pipe, filling it and tamping it before he went downstairs. He lit his pipe just as he entered the room. Leo was still dressed somewhat casually for him - he had already donned slacks and shirt, but wore no jacket at the moment.

He took a deep draw from the pipe and held it for a moment before releasing his breath. It helped calm his nerves as he looked around at those that had gathered. "Seems Jack shoved his hand into some kind of hornets nest, didn't he." It was somewhere between a statement and a question. Perhaps more of an observation about which he was hoping others would consider and provide commentary.

Rosalie had stayed at the hospital late into the evening to make certain that Walter was being cared for properly and was as comfortable as he could be.  Even when she returned to the Elias house, she'd slept very little.  Her thoughts were of Jackson, how he must have spent the last few minutes of his life, and what secrets he had uncovered to set such horrible people against him.  She rose early, ate a meager breakfast, and then retired to the sitting room to gather with the others.  At the small table normally reserved for card playing, she emptied her handbag of the various clues they'd collected from Jackson's killers.  Leaning back in her chair, she sipped at her coffee, contemplating possible links between the items.  If anything, it helped to keep her mind off of Jackson's death.

Bishop had put down the paper, stood to greet Dr. Elias as he entered the room. Stan was wearing a fresh suit. He had some gotten some blood on the other one. The shirt was likely ruined, but the small stains would not show on the dark wool of the suit.

"It seems he did. I have been sitting here thinking on things. I know you might have matters to attend to .." Bishop did not mention the funeral ".. but based on what Lieutenant Poole said, some of those likely for Jack's demise are still out there."<blue>

Seeing Rosalie spill out the contents of the purse, the clues he and the others had collected, Bishop continued "I wondered if you might not assemble the others so we could go over what we gathered from Jack's room. I can round done some of the leads. But there are matters in which I have no expertise. Jack asked for our assistance, I am hoping the others will join in completing the task."</Blue>

He was still speaking with Dr. Elias when Rosalie, and then Annabelle came in the room.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:16, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

     Annabel, escorted by one of the servants entered the sitting room and surveyed the mood of its occupants. It was what she expected. The unexpected death of Jackson had hit everyone hard and put them all in various moods. She herself wasn't sure what to think. Sure, she was sad for the family, but Jackson had been a stranger to her and as such, her feelings were more of a detachment compared to the others. She had also not seen the body, which she heard was horrifying, of which she was grateful indeed. She had no idea how she would have reacted to it, and feared it would not have been a very ladylike one.

    She greeted those in the room and went up to Dr. Elias. "I hope you were able to sleep some Sir," she said. In a more hesitant voice, Annabel added. "If there is anything I can do regarding your practice or anything else, please let me know."

  She had disregarded her previous idea of going away. She really didn't want to go back home so soon and Dr. Elias may need her in some capacity; so she felt she should stay in New York just in case.

   She looked over at Rosalie sitting at the table looking at a series of various objects. "What are those," Annabel asked; "did they come from the hotel?"

On one of the pages of the Times, Stanley found a short article referring to Jackson's death.

Leo greeted the others in the room and watched Rosalie pull out what she had secreted away in her purse the evening before. His face hardened at the suggestion he had other matters to attend. "Few things are more important to me right now than discovering who did this to Jackson. Kate and I discussed some of the, er, details of future proceedings this morning. Distraught as she is, deciding on how we'll say our final good-bye forces her to do something besides mourn the loss of her boy."

He walked over and looked at the information on the card table. It was most often used for games of Bridge between the Elias couple and their friends, though they would likely have to cancel this evening's game. He turned to face Bishop, "I believe this is all that was collected from the room. Seems to be from all over the place, though the Carlyle expedition appears to feature prominently. I wonder if all of this was taken from Jackson, or if any of it was collected separately. Bits from New York, London, Cairo, Shanghai...and a professor from Australia. Plus the suggestion from Lt. Poole that there might be a connection to other murders. He might be able to tell us something more about what the other victims have in common."

The first thing Bo realized when he awoke in the hospital was that Rosalie had gone. She was there as he faded into a sedative-eased sleep and he was grateful. It had been some years since he had entered into such a violent scene, longer since he himself had been injured. The death of his cousin, a man he regarded almost as a brother, unsettled him even more.

He picked at the hospital breakfast left-handed to minimize the tug of the stitches that closed up the wound along his ribcage. The ribs weren't broken, but cracked and badly bruised. The loss of blood left him feeling weak and worn. On the other hand, a few inches lower and the machete would have ripped open his belly, spilling his intestines around his feet. He'd seen men die that way before. He couldn't remember seeing anyone live with such a wound.

By the time the doctor made his rounds and pronounced him well enough for release, he felt more than ready. The nurses helped him dress in his second-best (and last remaining) suit, tied his shoes for him, and pinned a sling around his right arm, 'just to remind you.'

Uncle Leo's chauffeur was waiting for him at the entrance and bundled him into the back of the car with a robe tucked around his knees. Soon they were at the house and he was taken up to his room. After a bit, he realized the room had been Jack's when they were young.

He dozed briefly in a chair beside the remains of coffee and buns. When he roused himself to go downstairs, Lawrence conducted him to the parlor where Leo and Stanley were talking, while Miss Ashcroft hovered uncertainly nearby. Rosalie looked up from some items she was studying.

"Morning, everyone."

As the last of the others arrived Bishop offered a nod.. He had thought a lot last night. Now looking over the clues one more time he laid it on the table for the others "I have set a meeting with Lieutenant Poole later today. I'll get a list of the names of the victims. I'm hoping to get a look at the case files as well, but that might be a long shot with Poole."

"I am hoping to get a lead on the black car seen leaving the scene. If not from the police, than from the staff of the Chelsea." Bishop decided not to mention the morgue in front of all of the others.

"Of the other leads, I suggest the obvious, we start with New York. We have the import place on the West Side. That is Hell's Kitchen near the docks. That's a rough area, might be dangerous. We got a name on the back, Silas N'Kwane as well might be linked, might be Jack using it to scribble a note. Since the name sounds African it might be our best lead."

"Next is the Australian Professor. We probably already missed his lecture, but he might still be hanging around the university."

"Then we Jack's publisher, perhaps he knows more about what Jack is working on, maybe even an angle on why Jack was killed. Since we know he was digging into the Carlyle Expedition, someone might want to do some digging into it as well. "

"Might also be useful if someone followed up with this Miriam Atwright from Harvard."

"It is important to remember that this is an active investigation, and while Poole isn't a bad guy, he might not appreciate us stepping on his toes. More importantly we are looking for people willing to kill to keep a secret. So we need to be discreet."

"All that said, any involvement in this is likely going to be dangerous. Jack would not want anyone of you to get hurt. So if you do not feel compelled to find his killers, it might be best to walk away now."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

Abe… Now, where was to even begin?  Since leaving the scene of Jackson’s murder, he’d drifted from one confusing thought to the next.  Death had a funny way to it.  In the immediate aftermath it seemed both completely unreal and utterly devastating.  The facts were there in brutal detail but they didn’t add up to anything his brain could put to reason.  He supposed that was why he’d seen soldiers, kids who couldn’t even grow a proper mustache, break down giggling when they saw a friend torn apart by artillery fire and a head or familiar appendage was tossed into their line of sight.  As they dug the mangled but recognizable thing out of French dirt and picked it up they started laughing while tears streamed down their cheeks. And people wondered why he drank.

At Stanley’s request, Abe stayed the night, bunking in one of Dr. Elias’s spare rooms. He’d wanted to retire as his own flat.  Right then the comfort of his writing chair byt the window overlooking the roadway that ran outside his flat would’ve been a fine return to a sense normalcy.  He hadn’t wanted much to do with the other members of the family.  Not yet.  Give him any party, even the chance to screw things up worse for himself, but keep the wake for a time when he was out of town.

Come the morning, Abe rejoined the family, for the first time in a very long time completely sober though one might be hard pressed to tell.  Abe hadn’t changed from his party suit and now the wrinkled ensemble gave him the look of a rather disheveled reveler who’d been privy to some week-long festival of Bacchanalian debauchery.  Red eyed, unshaven, and with a sour yet weary look on his face, he found his way into the sitting room with the others to listen.

At least Bishop seemed inclined to take some action.  Aware and painfully sober, action seemed like the only productive course to take.  ”A good lead he might be, but, ah, are you up for any trouble you might get asking around Hell’s Kitchen if this Mr. N’Kwane is involved with the murders? Both of you took it rough at the hotel.  If something like that goes down again, do you think you’d be starting with a bit of a handicap?  I’m not saying we should give up looking after Jackson’s affairs on our own, but you’re meeting with the lieutenant.  Would that of this mess be better left to Poole?”

"I agree it could be risky, but Poole and the police have been working this case for a long time." Bishop said without mentioning the nine murders. "I would like to take a shot at running down these leads. If we get close we can bring the lieutenant in to make the arrests." Bishop said.

"Honestly given the nature of these clues and Jack's work, I don't think the New York Police Department are equipped to solves this crime. Many of us have probably read Jack's books, and many of you have expertise in related fields."

What do the rest of you think?" Stan asked the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:07, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

"These all came from the men that attacked us yesterday, or from Jackson's room," she said softly to Annabel.  "We think they might somehow be involved or lead us to more information on why all of this has happened."  She waved one hand at Stanley as he went into more detail, explaining it better than she could.

Glancing up as Walter entered the room, she rose from her chair and moved to greet him.  "Bo, I hope you're feeling better this morning.  I had the full report from the doctor after you went to sleep last night, so I know exactly how little you should be straining yourself today.  Come and sit down and rest.  Can I pour you some coffee?"

Leo turned an appraising eye to Walter as he arrived. So long as he didn't strain at the stitching in his side, the man should heal quite nicely, though Leo would be certain to personally look after the wound on regular basis. He felt somewhat responsible for dragging them all into this, if for no other reason than he had been roughly fifty-percent responsible for the production of Jackson.

He took his pipe out of his mouth for several moments while the others spoke, listening to what each had to say in turn. "There will be some risk, but we can take some steps to mitigate those. The police may not have been able to solve this yet, but perhaps that's partly because they don't have the information we've collected. I'm not entirely comfortable withholding information from the police, but I'll leave that to you, Stanley. In particular, they might be able to provide some information on this N'Kwane fellow, or help track down that piece of this puzzle. Poole might even be willing to go with us to follow up on that particular lead."

Leo scanned the information arrayed on the table again. "I think we can split up and start tracking down some of these bits. Stanley, perhaps you can take Walter and visit Poole, and see if you can find out more about that sedan. Also, see if you can get access to the morgue or find out who may have done autopsies on the other victims of the prior murders. Perhaps there are even pictures of the victims' bodies. Speaking of pictures - does anyone own a camera? If not, I can procure a few."

Leo then tapped a finger on the letter from the publisher. "Abraham and Rosie, perhaps you can follow up the lead with the publisher - find out for what book Jack asked Miriam Atwright. You can also try to determine on what Jackson was most recently working. I can place some calls to NYU to try to find the professor, and Miss Ashcroft and I can try to follow up in person if necessary. I'd also like to try to speak with Erica Carlyle. Perhaps there is some information she has on the expedition that would be of use."

  "Oh" Annabel said looking curiously at the objects. She listened to Stanley's explanation and possible leads on their search for additional clues on what was going on. When Dr. Elias suggested she help him, Annabel nodded.

  "Yes, anything I can do to help," she said eagerly. "I"m afraid I don't have the worldly experience that the rest of you have, but I can still help with the mundane and social stuff around town. If you need to make calls, or run around town, I'm your girl." 

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 13):

Walter gave Rosalie a tight smile and let her conduct him to a chair, accepting a cup of coffee. As Stanley and Leo spoke, he casually looked through the materials Rosalie had been perusing, eyelids drooping heavily.

At Leo's suggestion that he and Stanley visit Poole, he looked up. "If it's all the same to you, Uncle Leo, I'd rather not bring myself to police attention the day after killing a couple of guys. Anyway, today I'm not sure I have the strength for a cab ride. Maybe I'll visit with Aunt Catherine for a while this afternoon and puzzle over these scrapbook items."

Bishop nodded "Probably best I see Poole on my own, and you rest up Bo." Bishop agreed.

"Dr. Elias, I agree you are the correct person to reach out to Erica Carlyle. In is uncertain that the killings are connected to the ill fated expedition, so unless we find something to connect the two I am uncertain of the approach."

"We still need someone to follow up with that Miss Atwood, just in case the publisher does not know anything about it." Looked over the group.

Leo nodded at Bo's response. "I'm sure Kate would appreciate the company. She seems to be handling things fairly well, but she does enjoy company."

He then turned to face Stanley. "I'd prefer if none of us were alone right now. If Bo isn't going with you, then I will. Who is Miss Atwood?" Leo scanned the documents they had been provided to see if he missed something about a woman named Atwood.

Abraham thought back over the evidence they’d seen yesterday.  There were some holes in his memory, a few blank spots where he’d thought he seen something important but now that important thing had flitted away, leaving him with only the ghost of lost memory.  He’d want to reread the scraps of Jackson’s letters and everything concerning the publisher—actually, he’d like to see everything about the case again, but Leo’s suggestion seemed the best course of action.

”Prospero Press, was it?” He asked rhetorically.  ”Might be kinder if I tracked down Mr. N’Kwane.  Kinder for the publisher.  I’ll go, and if Rosalie is willing I’d appricate the help.”

But first, Abe had a little side trip he’d like to make before heading on to Prospero Press.  He didn’t plan on impinging on Leo’s hospitality and begging for new clothes after acting like a drunken lout yesterday, so he planned on taking Mr. Sawyer’s Chevy back to his flat, stepping inside and finding something a little more practical than his fancy party dress.  Oh, and that business yesterday with the thugs.  They wouldn’t go around investigating what had got Jackson murdered unarmed.

"I believe Mr. Bishop meant Miss Atwright, sir," he said to the doctor as he swept through the room, gracefully and unobtrusively removing empty coffee cups and filling them as needed.

"I won't be alone. I will be in a precinct house full of cops. That is part of it, I would rather not have Poole asking to many questions. If it is just me he knows it will be quid pro quo."

"But maybe with all your training you can out fox a flat foot Doc. So I will leave it up to you." Bishop replied.

"As far a this Silas Kwane, I suggest we run down these other angles first. We want to know what we are dealing with before we risk tipping our hand."

"If it as Poole thinks and these characters are responsible for all these killings, they not going anyplace. By now they are pretty cocky. This last time was a set back but can't see 'em blowing town."

"So we can run down the import export place and K'wane after we run down these other leads."

Leo's face clouded at the response from Stanley. "Out fox the flat foot? Why would I be trying to do that? Are we somehow at odds with the police? At any rate, I thought you were also possibly planning to go to the hotel to ask after the car. The scene of Jackson's demise might be a place being watched by associates of the men who did it."

He paused and looked at the card with N'Kwane's name on it. "I think we should also find out a bit about this Emerson Imports place, if we can, before showing up there. Perhaps Poole can be of use. Any other ideas on how we can get some information on the business?"

  Annabel piped up. "I could always ask my father about them; being in shipping maybe he has dealt with or has heard something about the company. I can make a quick call back home to ask. I believe he's around and not out of the country right now"


  She really didn't how what he could tell her, but she wanted to be of use, some use to help her employer.

"If Miss Ashcroft's idea doesn't pan out," Walter offered, "I could make a call to a guy I know."

Bishop understood Dr. Elias' questions. If they had been speaking of the inner workings of the human mind, he knew that Leonardo would run circles around him. But this was what he did.

What many people did not know was much of Pinkerton's bread and butter was infiltrating unions. The docks of the West Side were dominated by the Longshoreman, Stevedore and Teamster unions. Getting a line of the place would be a few phone calls."I work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency Dr. Elias, I assure you we have more information about a import export business on the docks than Detective Poole. As far as out foxing Poole, if he gets wind that we are looking into an active investigation he will shut us down. He might only be a cop, but he is a solid detective."

"As for making a stop at the Hotel Chelsea, if they are watching the place I will suss them out, and whether they are or not I assure you if I wanted to go a look around in there, they will not clock me coming or going. But you are right to be concerned Dr. Elias, we are up against dangerous men.

When Anabelle mentioned her father was in shipping, Bishop nodded "Odds are he has men in his office who could ask some questions without raising any eyebrows."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:10, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

"Of course, Abraham.  Would you like to me to call ahead and set an appointment or do you prefer we just drop in?"  Having expected to say the night at her uncle's, Rosalie had a change of clothing and was already fashionably dressed for the day.  She held her cup and saucer as Avery refilled her coffee and then stirred in generous portions of cream and sugar.

"Also, do you feel fit enough to drive, or shall I call for a cab?"   Her tone wasn't at all judgmental.  He'd been drunk at a party, which was moderately acceptable, if somewhat embarrassing.  And the events afterward were sufficiently grisly to drive anyone to numb their feelings with alcohol.  She'd benefited from the nip from his flask that she'd had, so didn't think anything of it had he spent the night drowning himself with whiskey.

Leo's frown deepened at the response concerning the police officer. "Poole's got a lot of dead bodies and doesn't seem to have answers. Do you really think he'd refuse an offer of assistance? I was hoping we could work with the police rather than having to avoid their notice. Seems like it could save us a headache if we have Poole's approval."

He then turned to Annabel. "If you think your father could be of assistance, use the house phone to ring him. And then see if you can set up a meeting with Erica Carlyle. But not for tomorrow. Any other day would be fine, though the sooner, the better."

"Dr Elias, if we can come up with something and bring it to Poole, the  we will get more cooperation. I have worked with him in the past. I know him. Part of the reason I am meeting him is to see what can be worked out. But for now I suggest we see what we can dig up before we let him no we are poking our noses into the matter."

"Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission." Bishop said trying to be patient with a man who had just lost his son.

Abraham allowed himself a beat before answering Rosalie.  ”Prospero will make time we show up without an appointment.  By now, they’ve no doubt seen the newspaper and know about what happened yesterday.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be quite politic to simply drop in and insist on meeting with them, but they can hardly say no with you contributing on Jackson’s expeditions and myself a potential source of revenue.  I doubt there’s anything Prospero will have to hide, but they’re more likely to be candid and straight forward if we don’t give them any warning.”

”Thank you, Rosalie,” he smiled, genuinely grateful for her understanding.  He lifted his cup of coffee in an easy salute. ”While my head is contemplating the merit of reenacting the October Revolution out of spite for yesterday’s folly, I feel like I can handle the wheel.  If you don’t mind, I would like to stop at my house before we get to Prospero.  After… after yesterday I think I’d like some more protection if we’re going to be following up on our cousin’s investigation.”  Abe hadn’t refilled his flask after draining it at the Chelsea Hotel, and though he craved the taste of liquor now he couldn’t soak himself while there was work to do that didn’t involve putting pen to paper.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

  Annabel nodded eagerly. "Yes Dr. Elias." She looked at her watch. "I'll see if I can catch him."

 She got up smoothing her skirt as she did so. She watched as Abraham took a sip of his coffee. "It's good to see you drinking something more sensible Mr. Hargrove," she remarked with a slight smile. "We'll need you sharp to help us with these leads."

 Going over to the house phone, Annabel rang up her father hoping he wasn't too busy to talk to her.

Rosalie shook her head lightly at Abe's question.  "I have no objection to stopping before we visit Prospero House.  However, I do think that I shall ring Harvard and inquire about Miriam Atwright to see if she'll be in the office.  The letter was written in November of last year, so she may no longer be employed there.  I think we should inquire there after we visit Prospero."  Rather than making for the phone, she remained sitting and sipped at her coffee, letting Annabel have some privacy while speaking with her father.

"Stanley, I know that it might be a bit of a bother for you, but could you inquire as to how long they might keep the Luger they recovered from the scene?  I would feel better with it back in my custody, especially given the circumstances.  If, however, you feel it might jeopardize your good standing with the police, please do not mention it."  She tried not to dwell on the thought that Jackson might have defended himself better if he'd had his firearm available.  A wave of sadness washed over her and she felt her throat tighten with grief.  Falling silent, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:24, Thu 07 Aug 2014.

"I'll see if I can get it back. But if the police need to hold onto it, I can get you another pistol if you are seeking one for your protection." Bishop said in reply.

"It sounds as if we have the bases covered. Best we get started."

”Harvard I agree with.  Please,” he made a grateful motion with his hands, ”contact them first.  If Ms. Atwright has left Harvard, I’d rather not waste time driving down there.”

”One hopes the need for a weapon won’t arise.  However, we don’t know much about the men behind this mystery and what little we do isn’t reassuring.”

This message was last updated by the GM at 16:57, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

In reply to Telephone Call (msg # 34):



"Father," Annabel said with a bit of relief in her voice. "I am well, how is mother and the rest of the family? I hope the snow wasn't too bad up there, we really got hit hard here in New York."

This message was last edited by the GM at 17:36, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

In reply to Telephone Call (msg # 36):



   Annabel was not surprised, probably shopping, spending the family's money while she was here dealing with this. But it's what she wanted, right? Sometimes she thought otherwise, she caught herself twisting the cord of the receiver in worry and stopped.

   "I'm.. I'm not sure." She quickly changed the subject. "Father, I wanted to know if you can help me with something....."


   Annabel went on to describe what she needed, information on Emerson Imports; if her father or his company had dealt with them, any information he can give her, etc. If he asked why, she would say it was for her employer Dr Elias, he was thinking of using them for business and wanted to see if they were reputable.

This message was last updated by the GM at 19:57, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 38):


  "Would you happen to have his contact information or have someone who does contact me? It would be very helpful." She gave the number of the house phone to reach her in case it was needed. It sounded to her, they had a lead on this. It made her feel good that she was being of some use and not just a pretty bauble to be trotted out..... Annabel stopped herself and blushed, embarrassed that her mind was wandering again.

  Relief shown on Annabel's face as she heard her father's voice with the requested information. Grabbing a pen from the cup beside the phone, she wrote down the information on a notepad.

  "Thank you father, this will be of great help to Dr. Elias. I better let you go, I'm sure you're very busy with much to do. Tell mother I'll see about coming to visit when I'm done with helping Dr. Elias. Love you, goodbye."

 Annabel hung up the phone and checked around her to see if there was a phonebook she could use to look up the address to get the number.

"I am off to meet with Lieutenant Poole. I suggest that as Walter as well as possibly Miss Ashcroft, will be here today, that we call in with any reports of progress. I also suggest we all check in from time to time of if we are changing plans." Bishop said gathering his coat and hat.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

OOC:
Annabel, please make an Idea roll.

10:00, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 81 using 1d100 with rolls of 81. idea (65).

OOC: Well whatever idea it was, it was a sucky one. :p

After inquiring after the phone directory, Avery goes and brings it for her, in which Annabel is able to easily find the telephone number of Emerson Imports: HA-6 3900.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:17, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

Rosalie rose from her seat and moved to use the phone after Annabel was finished, requesting that the operator connect her to Harvard University administration.  When a woman answered the other line, she asked after Miriam Atwright to see if she was still employed by the university and, if so, in what department she worked, her office hours, and whether she was working that day.  A small notepad in hand, she scribbled down several notes as the conversation progressed.  Thanking the voice on the other end of the line, she hung up the phone and returned to Abraham.

"We are in luck.  Miriam Atwright is still employed at Harvard and will be in the office today until six this evening.  If we make haste to the publishers and make our inquiries there, we may even be able to make to Harvard and catch her before she leaves.  Unless you wish to visit the university first?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

Remaining quiet while Annabel spoke over the telephone, Abraham patiently waited while Rosalie took her turn on the line contacting Harvard University.  There’d been a time when he would’ve scoffed at the national prestige hoisted upon America’s premier university, known even in the middle of Mojave Desert as the one of if not the most desirable institution for young minds who had in them the budding means to seize the reigns of capitalism and claim their fortunes.  Then again, he was half a Princeton man.  Just don’t ask the year he graduated.  As he moved closer toward 34, he’d yet to claim even a bachelors’ from the Ivy League school and with his infamous reputation with the heads of the English department, there was little chance he’d ever receive recognition from the university even if his literary career exploded among both critics and common fiction readers.

“What news!” he remarked, perking up despite the somber mood lingering in the sitting room as members of Clan Elias prepared to embark upon their chosen tasks.  “Now Harvard or Prospero Press.” Abe drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair.  “Let’s speak with Prospero first.  Then we’ll head to Harvard.  You didn’t happen to get Ms. Atwright’s home telephone number, did you?  If we aren’t done with Prospero by,” he glanced at his watch, “say, 2 o’clock then we should give Ms. Atwright a call.  Perhaps we can arrange to meet with her at her house.  Or , should she be willing to bring any relevant materials she might have on the subject in her keeping, we could arrange to share with her.  With this business as, ah, grim as it’s been thusfar, I’d understand if either you or Ms. Atwright would find that suggestion inappropriate.  However, it might save us a day.  And from what I’ve read in the pulps,” Abe attempted his best affectation of a New York copper’s accent, “times a crucial element in any investigation.”

”So,” Abe dropped the terrible accent, ”if that’s settled, shall we head to the car and begin?”

"I would prefer if we reached her at the university, especially as the research materials she mentioned will likely be there.  It would be more convenient.  We can cross that bridge when we come to it, however.  I am ready to leave, if you are.  Just let me get my coat and hat."  She approached Leonardo and leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek.  "Abraham and I are leaving so we can get an early start on our inquiries.  Be careful out there, uncle."  She squeezed his shoulder gently before pulling away.

On her way to the foyer, she stopped to wag an admonishing finger at Walter.  "Don't exert yourself, Bo, or there will be hell to pay when I get back."

Collecting her things, she shrugged into her coat, pulled on her hat and gloves, and looped her scarf around her neck.  With her pocketbook tucked in the crook of her arm, she waited for Abraham to gear up for the chilly winter weather.

Walter smiles at Rosalie's admonishment.

"Don't worry, Rosalie, I'll be a good boy today."

He waits patiently until the bustle of the various leave-takings are over, then rises from the armchair and walks over to ring the bell to summon Lawrence, asking him to find out when Aunt Catherine will see him.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Elias has asked to grieve alone today and has instructed me not to allow her to be disturbed save in case of emergency, Mr. Brandon," Avery replied dourly.

"I am sure she will be more receptive tomorrow, though if you wish to leave a message for her in writing, I can leave it outside her room."

   Waving good bye to the departing duo and wishing them good luck, Annabel goes back over to the phone to finish up her calls that Dr. Elias requested.

 Dialing up the number to the university, Annabel inquires about Dr. Cowles, if he is still at the university or in town and if so how he could be reached. If asked why she wants to speak with him, Annabel tells them it is on the behalf of her employer, Dr. Elias who wishes a meeting with the professor.

Annabel thanked the person and hung up. Then she wrote the information down to remember. Afterwards, She thought about her next task. She wasn't sure how to go about finding Erica Carlyle but decided to try the first thing that came to mind. Calling the operator, Annabel the operator asked if there was a listing for the woman.


OOC: Would Annabel have any society knowledge on where Erica lives or how to reach her?
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:06, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

OOC:

If you recall, Annabel attended Barnard two years behind Erica Carlyle. Annabel would know that the Erica Carlyle is now the scion of a prominent 'old money' New York family, and they own many companies and holdings.

Make an Idea roll. If it's as bad as the last idea Annabel tried to have, you can always talk to Walter, who is still there, and Stanley and Leo, who have technically not yet left to see if they have any better ideas.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:53, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

07:54, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 71 using 1d100 with rolls of 71. idea (65).

Her ideas are sucking. :(


  Annabel thought for a moment about the Erica problem, but nothing useful would come to mind. God, I'm useless, I should have stayed home with mother. What's wrong with me?

  Not thinking of anything, Annabel decided that other minds may be of more help and heads back to the parlor.

 "Dr Elias, it seems like we are in luck. Professor Cowles is still around, he will be speaking at Columbia tonight at 8pm. Hopefully, we can catch him there." She hesitates, a bit embarrassed. "As for Ms. Carlyle, I'm afraid I'm not having any luck locating her." She asked the remaining people in the parlor, "would any of you happen to have any ideas where she could be reached?"

OOC:

Since Annabel is running short on ideas for how she can contact Erica Carlyle, any of the characters remaining in this scene (Stanley, Leo, Walter) can try to help her out. If you don't have any ideas, feel free to make an Idea roll, though it's not necessary strictly if you can think of something independently.

"Other than the fact that Jack was working on a book about the expedition, I am not certain we have much to talk to her about. Maybe once we dig into things, something will turn up."

"We could contact her to see if Jack spoke with her. If so maybe we can contact her through one of the families business interests."

Leo looked over at Annabel and smiled at the news concerning NYU. "Excellent work with Professor Cowles, Miss Ashcroft." Leo furrowed his brow a bit at her next question. "What attempts have you made at securing a meeting with Miss Carlyle?"

     Annabel felt a bit embarrassed, "None I'm afraid Dr. Elias. I mean, it's not like she has a telephone listing that people could just call her, she's a pretty important person. Maybe I could try her estate if they have a number listed. Or ask some of my friends, maybe one of them knows Erica." She had a thought though a distasteful one. "As a last resort I could always call mother, she's may know some society people that know her. I don't think she does, but I may be wrong. But I want to save that avenue if nothing else pans out."

Leo nodded at the first of the suggestions, but furrowed his brow at the distaste Annabel felt concerning her mother. "You might also try contacting the office of one of her holdings. They might be able to put you in touch with one of her closer representatives - an attorney, for example. Perhaps we can get in touch with her that way."

   Annabel nodded, "Ok, well it's a start. I'll get to work on it, wish me luck."

    Going back over to the phone with new determination, Annabel thought for a moment then placed a call to the operator asking if they had a listing for either Erica Carlyle or the Carlyle estate. If she was unsuccessful there, she would do as Dr. Elias suggested, call up the office of Ms. Carlyle's holdings to see what information they could give. if she had to, Annabel would next call up some of her friends to see if they had any information they could give her. And as a last resort, she would call home and speak with her mother to see what information she knew. She REALLY hoped it would not come to that.

OOC:

Annabel, give me two d100 rolls (one for Luck, one for INTx5).

OOC:14:38, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 95 using 1d100 with rolls of 95. int x 5 (65).

14:36, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 5 using 1d100 with rolls of 5. luck (70).

While Annabel was unable to find listings for Erica Carlyle or Carlyle House, it didn't take her long to get in touch with the offices of Carlyle Paper, one of the various holdings of the Carlyle family.

  Annabel hesitated for a moment then said. "Yes, my name is Annabel Ashcroft. I am calling on behalf of Dr. Leonardo Elias. Mr. Elias would like to arrange a meeting with Miss Carlyle and I was wondering if you could give me a contact with whom this could be arranged."

OOC: is there anything you need me to roll?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

Walter awakes from a light doze in the armchair, Annabel's voice a soft murmur as she uses the telephone. He scrubs his hands over his face and stands, stretching. "I think I'll go up to my room," he says to no one in particular.

He mounts the stairs slowly and finds the guest room he's been assigned. He finds the two long, somewhat scuffed, calfskin gun-cases under the bed where Avery had them stowed. He wrestles them out one handed with a bit of difficulty.

Pulling his arm out of the sling, he perches on the edge of the skirted slipper chair and opens the cases. Humming quietly, he spends some time looking over the Lancaster Nitro Express double rifle and the BSA Lee-Speed Sporter, carefully checking the mechanisms until he is sure everything is alright. Returning the rifles to their cases (and noting that he only has two rounds for the Express and ten for the Sporter), he maneuvers them back under the bed.

Bo sits back in the chair for a few minutes, breathing heavier than he likes after the mild exertion, his ribs aching slightly. After a glass of water from the carafe by the bed, he unlocks his suitcase and withdraws two oilskin-wrapped items.

Crossing to the desk, he unwraps the hammerless Colt .38 autoload and the .45 Colt revolver. He gives them the same scrutiny he had bestowed on the rifles, but at the end of the process he loads both pistols, as well as the extra magazine for the automatic. I'll need more cartridges for these, too, he thinks, as he places the .45 back in the suitcase and slips the .38 under his pillow, the spare magazine going into his pocket.

He gently slides his arm back into the sling and lies down on the bed, careful to keep his shoes off the coverlet. He naps until called for luncheon.

OOC:

Annabel, sorry for the delay. I initially missed your earlier post and then was unable to post for a few days. Could you please update your last post with some dialogue and specifics? This isn't a conversation that we can abstract. We're going to need to roleplay this out.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:10, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

This message was last edited by the GM at 20:33, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

  Well at least they haven't hung up yet. "Good morning sir," Annabel said cheerfully. "I'm calling on behalf of Dr. Leonardo Elias. He would like to contact Miss Carlyle about a matter most urgent. Would you happen to know the proper channels to make an appointment to see her? She is a difficult woman to get in touch with."

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:58, Wed 03 Sept 2014.

18:40, Today: Annabel Ashcroft rolled 44 using 1d100 with rolls of 44. persuade. (55)

  Annabel hesitated, she wasn't sure she should really say the real purpose of wanting to talk to Miss Carlyle, but she had to say something.

  "Mr Elias, has come into some information about the Carlyle Expedition from some years back. He would very much like to speak with Miss Carlyle about it. Could you please help us," she said in a slightly pleading tone, "It would be of great help to Mr. Elias."

This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 19:00, Wed 03 Sept 2014.

  Annabel felt a touch of relief. At least it was something. "Thank you sir," she said. She gave the number and added. "This is the number for the Elias household. If I don't answer, please give the information to whoever answers and they will get it to me. Thank you again, sh have a nice day."


   Hanging up the phone; Annabel went back to the parlor to inform Dr Elias of her efforts. "Hopefully it will not take them long to get back to us, and we can finally track down Miss Carlyle." She felt flush with her success.

Leo frowned at what had transpired. "It sounds like they're trying to brush us off. Though perhaps I'm wrong on that count and they'll follow up." Leo furrowed his brow as he considered the situation, then smoothed his face with his right hand. "If she's still interested in what happened to her brother, she might give us a call."

 Annabel looked a little disheartened with Leo's negativity; they wouldn't do that, would they?

 "Oh, I hope you're wrong Dr. Elias," she said with a touch of optimism. "He did sound like he would. As you said, I'm sure Miss Carlyle would want to hear your information."

  Continuing, Annabel said; "If you are going out maybe I should stay behind to wait in case they call or if they need to meet us today. Will you be going to Columbia tonight to catch the lecture? If so, maybe I should come along too."

As time passed and no returned phone calls seemed imminent, Leonardo and Stanley decided to take their leave and proceed with their inquiries, indicating that they would first be visiting Lieutenant Poole.

When the clock struck noon, Avery began to prepare a light repast for Annabel and Walter as they were still in the house. He prepared one for Catherine Elias as well, served to her privately.

   Hearing the clock chime, Annabel looked up from the magazine she was browsing through and pursed her lips. Nothing yet, surely her request had reached someone by now. Why haven't they called? She so hoped it would be before Dr. Elias got back so she would have something to show for her efforts.

   A feint rumbling in her stomach reminded her that it had been a while since she had eaten. As she rose from her chair, Annabel heard the faint sounds of something going on in the dining room. As she entered she saw the servant Avery had already thought of lunch and was preparing something, Annabel gave him a friendly smile.

  "My Avery, you must have been reading my mind. It's very kind of you to do this. Walter will hopefully be down soon. Tell me," she asked, "is Mrs. Elias alright? I know this must be very hard on her. If she would like some companionship, I would be more than happy to help."

"Mrs. Elias is as well as may be expected given the circumstances," he replied dourly.

"She has been making the arrangements for Jackson's funeral. I will inform her of your interest in visiting her, but she has been rather clear that she wished to be alone for a time. I believe in a moment like this for a woman of her temperament, solitude may be the best palliative."

Walter enters the dining room in time to hear Annabel and Avery's exchange.

"Good afternoon, Miss Ashcroft, Avery," he says pleasantly, "Glad to see there's lunch in the offing. I suspect that, once we've eaten, I'll feel up to taking a hand in whatever's going on around here." He holds a chair for Annabel and seats himself where Avery indicates. He opts for tomato juice as beverage.

As the dishes arrive, he makes small talk, but once the other servants have left the room, he asks Annabel, "Have you heard anything back from the others? And how are your inquiries proceeding?"

[ooc - I don't actually need a detailed recap, just establishing that Walter knows what Annabel knows (unless she wants to hold anything back) so we can proceed.]

In reply to Walter 'Bo' Brandon (msg # 79):




  "Oh," Annabel said to Avery's reply. "I completely understand. It must be very hard on her and she needs time to grieve." Annabel let the matter drop, it sounded like she would not be much help and didn't want to be a pest.


 "Mr Brandon," Annabel said with a smile as she watched the man enter the room. "I hope you are feeling much better after your ordeal. The others are out on their various errands, but I'm not sure when they might return. As for me," she gave a small dejected sigh. "I have heard nothing back about my inquiry's with contacting Miss Carlyle. I haven't given up hope though, it hasn't been that long so maybe it hasn't reached the person it needs to yet."

"Yes, Miss Carlyle probably has a fair amount of levels separating her from ordinary folks like us," Walter agrees, "What else have you been working on. Any luck with that N'Kwane fellow's shop?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:03, Wed 17 Sept 2014.

    "Not really," Annabel said. "I think that some of the others might go over later to check it out when they have time. Oh," she said quickly like she had forgotten something. "Silly me, I forgot, it seems that there is another lecture being given by that professor who we missed last night. It's tonight at Columbia. Hopefully he might be able to tell us something. Do you think you might be up for going Mr. Brandon? I don't think it will be dangerous, though then again I didn't think going to a hotel would have been dangerous either." She gave a sigh, "what the world is coming to these days."

Bo suppresses a smile at the young woman's last comment.

"If you have the card for N'Kwame's shop, I thought I might go have a look at it," He finishes the last of his coffee and starts to get up, "You're welcome to come along."

OOC:

I believe all of that information is in the sitting room on a card table.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:22, Fri 19 Sept 2014.

In reply to Walter 'Bo' Brandon (msg # 83):


  Annabel looked quite surprised, "you mean now? Are you up for it, driving that is. I suppose we could take a cab if need be."

  Her voice sounded a mix of hesitance and excitement of getting to do something. "If you want the address, I believe it's with the rest of the stuff in the sitting room." She looked at the clock; "I don't know when the others are returning but it probably shouldn't take us more then what, a few hours to go and come back?"

Walter looks at the business card for Emerson Imports: "47th Street. Yeh, a cab sounds like just the ticket. Get your coat, Miss Ashcroft. We could both use a bit of fresh air." He asks Avery to call for a cab. Going up to his room, he gets his hat and a topcoat Uncle Leo had said he could borrow.

  Finishing up her lunch, Annabel went to collect her stuff for the trip. First though, she stopped off at the bathroom to make sure she was presentable. As she worked she thought at how exciting all this was; though she had to admit she was a little worried. She REALLY hoped that nothing like the hotel would happen, after all there would only be the two of them.

  Satisfied with her work, Annabel collected her things, dressed, and waited for the cab. "Do you think we should leave a note, incase someone gets back before we do," Annabel asked.

In reply to Annabel Ashcroft (msg # 87):

"I've told Avery where we're going," Bo explains, "He can tell the others if we're not back before them.

"Here's the cab." He offers his arm to escort Miss Ashcroft to the cab. Once inside, he consults the card and gives the driver the address.

The journey by cab wasn't overly long, and in some twenty minutes they arrived at a long, narrow building with loading docks at both ends. The building was a warehouse piled high with freight, and a sign at the door indicated that the offices of Emerson Imports could be found at the top of a steep and dark set of stairs.

The door at the top, with a milky colored glass that said the name of the business on it, opened up to reveal a small, smoky office. A thin man with an angular face sat at the only desk in the room, cluttered with papers, and he turned around to squint at his guests. Tapping his cigarette into the ashtray, he took a long drag on it while he looked at them, letting out a cloud of smoke. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked brusquely.

"We're here to make polite inquiry of you, concerning some business we may throw the way of Emerson Imports," Bo says smoothly, "I'm Walter Brandon and this is my associate, Miss Ashcroft. We're interested in moving goods between the States and Africa, Cairo or Nairobi most likely. What is your firm's recent experience with such activities?

"And, by the way, who the hell are you?"

   As Annabel entered the office she noticed many things, all of them unpleasant. This was not the organized offices of her father's businesses she was used to seeing, she wondered how he kept track of things. She stood beside Mr. Brandon as he spoke to the man looking thoughtful. She gave him a chiding look at his statement.

  "Now Walter, we just met the man, give him a chance to introduce himself." She gave the man an apologetic smile. "Excuse my associate, Annabel Ashcroft, pleased to meet you, and you are?" she asked waiting for a reply.

"Arthur Emerson," he said, offering his hand to Walter and giving it a firm shake. He didn't seem to be bothered in the least by the nature of Walter's query, nor did he particularly seem in need of or changed by Annabel's attempts at mollification. Rather, he was very much just down to business.

"I'm the owner here, and though I'd like to do business with you, I'm afraid to say that we specialize in imports, not exports, so I'm not the guy you're lookin' for when it comes to moving things to Cairo, Nairobi, or anywhere else for that matter."
This message was last updated by the player at 00:51, Tue 21 July 2015.

Walter pulls out a chair for Annabel and seats himself in another, removing his hat.

"We expect to have materials to ship from Africa to the states as well, you see, Mr. Emerson. I have spent some time in Africa in the past. The name Silas N'Kwame came up in connection with your operations. That's what drew me here in particular."

He watches closely for Emerson's reaction to the name.

"Well, if you're looking to do import work, we might be able to work out some kinda deal. If you reasoned that the name N'Kwane meant I did business in Africa, you figured right, in a roundabout kinda way. I import from this money-grubbing Indian in Mombasa named Ahja Singh, and his only account happens to be this place in Harlem that Silas N'Kwane manages called the Ju-Ju House," he said.

"You wanna ship to them too?" He looks over both Walter and Annabel, though his questions are clearly directed to Walter.

    Annabel could tell a snub when she saw it, Lord knows she saw enough of it in her own society. Probably doesn't think much of women, fine with me. She choose to ignore it and let Walter deal with this fool. He seemed to be doing a decent job of it too.

      Taking out her notepad, she wrote down the information that Mr. Emerson was saying. Ju-Ju house....she wondered what that was and if they would have time to check it out. She had never been to Harlem before, it was full of Negroes or so she heard; Annabel wondered what it was like there?

In reply to Arthur Emerson (msg # 94):

"Ju-ju house? What's that, some kind of curio shop?" Walter gives Annabel a knowing grin and rubs his chin, "I'm not looking to bring in fetishes and masks and carvings and such for old ladies to coo over up on Park Avenue. And I don't want to go through any middleman, if you take my meaning.

"I'm looking for somebody who can handles big time stuff both ways without any kick. No questions asked and no government problems."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Thu 25 Sept 2014.

"Well, if that's not what you're after, then you don't need to deal with Silas, 'cause that's all that darky foreigner brings in - though it's no Park Avenue affair, I'll tell you that. Look, I told you earlier, I don't know about makin' things go both ways. I do imports, and imports only," he said.

"If you're still of a mind to do business with me, you won't find much better of a deal, but if you are trying to ship things out you're better off looking elsewhere."

"Thank you, Mr. Emerson, very much," Walter says, rising and extending his hand, "Sorry we took up your time." He waits at the door for Annabel to join him.

"No problem. You folks have a good one," he said, bidding them farewell with what seemed to be only mechanical politeness.

OOC:

Where to next for Walter and Annabel?

Walter hails a cab to take him and Annabel to Harlem.

A cabbie pulled up near where Walter and Annabel were standing. As Walter asked to be taken to Harlem, he looked at the two of them and just said, "Cotton Club?"

    Annabel waved goodbye and left the office with Walter. She gave him a thoughtful look. "So this place is a curio shop? Considering the origin of the stuff I bet it has some really odd things in it. It will be interesting to see them." She gave a shrug and a wink, "who knows, maybe I'll even buy something as a souvenir."

  Getting into the cab with Walter, she was a bit surprised at the cabby's reply to Walter. "Is that where people normally go in Harlem? Well, it would be interesting to see, but no, we would like to go to the Ju Ju house, do you know of it?"

Reaching the outskirts of Harlem, Walter has the cabbie stop at a drug store. He goes inside to the telephone booth and looks up 'Ju Ju House' and 'N'Kwane, Silas' in the directory. When he's done, he goes back to the cab.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:25, Fri 26 Sept 2014.

"That's usually where white people go in Harlem," he said. "I ain't never heard o' no Ju Ju House though. That a jazz place? Sounds like one."

At Walter's direction, the driver stopped at the drug store, allowing him to go and seek out information from the phone booth, but he doesn't find a listing for either the business or N'Kwane there.

   "No, it's a shop," Annabel said to the cabbie, "curios and stuff. Well this is no good," she said, a bit of frustration in her voice. "Maybe we should have got the address from Mr. Emerson. It could take forever going around asking random people; maybe we should go back and ask him."

"I'd rather not let Emerson know we're interested in someone he has business with. Let's head back to Leo's then. I'll make a couple of phone calls and see if we can get a lead on N'Kwame and Ju Ju House"

He gives the cabbie Leo's address.

"Sorry to get you out on a wild goose chase, Miss Ashcroft."

  Annabel gave Water a smile, "Oh no worries Mr. Brandon, it was fun; although I would like to get to see this shop when we do decide to go. I'm curious to see those odd curios."

  She sits back and looks out the window as the cab takes them home. "At least we have something more to contribute to the investigation; I wonder how the others did in their little outings?"

When the cab pulls up in front of Leo's house, Walter helps Annabel out and walks carefully up the front steps, favoring his right side a bit.

[ooc - Can we get a time check on this thread?]
This message was last edited by the player at 13:22, Tue 30 Sept 2014.

OOC:

Probably around 2 in the afternoon.

   Annabel thanked Walter for his assistance and helped him up to the house. The afternoon was still young, it seemed it hadn't taken them too long to do their task. Well it would have been longer it they had known where to go, but that was besides the point.

  As they entered, Annabel asked if there was any news of the others and if any calls had come. Considering how long they have been gone, they had to be having better luck then her.

In the sitting room, Walter takes off his overcoat and hat and lays them over the back of an armchair. He lights a cigarette and pulls the telephone closer. Baldy's voice comes back to him. Sure, Bo, I unnerstand, it's family an' nothing's more important than family. Baldy was the boss and he liked Bo, but Bo wasn't part of his family. Still, he'd had to talk to the man before he left New Orleans. Not to have done so would have been disrespectful, which could be fatal.

He dialed the number of a pool room in East Harlem.

"Hello, this is Bo," he said to the unspeaking man who picked up the phone, "I'm up from Big Easy. Baldy said I should call this number and talk with the man, if I needed something. I need something. I'll be at this number." He read the number off the dial of Leo's phone and hung up. Now he just had to wait to hear from Joe Masseria, boss of the Morello family.

He sat and smoked. After a bit, he dozed.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Sun 05 Oct 2014.

Walter was woken from his nap with a gentle tap on the shoulder from Avery, of sufficient force only to wake a man that was lightly dozing but unlikely to take him from deep sleep.

"Mr. Brandon, there's a gentleman on the phone who wishes to speak to you. He is claiming to be a relative of yours and calls himself 'Uncle Joe'. Do you wish to speak with him?"

Walter blinks several times and rubs his eyes. "Yeah...uh...Yes, thank you, Avery. I'll talk to him."

He takes the receiver and waits until Avery has discreetly withdrawn. "Hello, Uncle Joe," he says quietly into the mouthpiece, "I appreciate your call. I need to know about a guy in Harlem named Silas N'Kwame and a place called the Ju Ju House, also in Harlem." He spells both names.

"When should I call you back? Or is there someone else I should talk to? I know you're a busy man."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:17, Mon 06 Oct 2014.

The man on the other end of the line had a deep, striking voice with a noticeable Italian accent. "I owe Baldy a few favors, and he says you're a good boy, so tell you some things. I don't know nobody named that, but I know about this Ju Ju House. The moulies over there, the African ones, they are strong in that part of Harlem. We send one of ours down there, Cederecci, to talk to them and tell them the way things are - and they kill him," he said.

Walter is quiet for a moment, then he has to ask: "How is it the Ju Ju House is still in business? If you don't mind me asking."

"You're a good boy, you know how this business works. These moulies, they are strong there. We  can put them out of business, but it will be difficult. And then there are the other families, they are still giving problems sometimes. They will move when I am weak. So I have to leave it be," he said, at the end adding in what sounds like profanity in Italian.

"Fuckin' moulies. Who cares about them anyway? Why you askin' about these moulies, Bo?"
This message was last updated by the player at 04:02, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

"You may have heard about a murder at the Chelsea Hotel recently. The murdered man was my cousin. I think the men who killed him may have been connected with this Ju Ju House. Now I know to proceed very carefully in that direction. Thank you.

"If you should happen to learn anything about this N'Kwame man in the next week or so, I would appreciate hearing about him. I won't presume to trouble you otherwise, sir."

"Give Baldy my best," he said. "I tell the boys if they hear more about this place, they call you. Arrivederci," he said, ending the call.

Before Uncle Joe rings off, Bo gets the address of the Ju Ju House from him.

He sits and smokes another couple of cigarettes, waiting for Leo and Stanley to turn up.

Walter goes looking for Annabel, looking at the clock on the mantle to see what time it is.

   Annabel sat in the drawing room, waiting for the others to return. She browsed through a magazine to pass the time. She could hear Walter talking excitedly on the phone some distance away and soon it stopped. A little while later, the man himself appeared in the room.


  "My, you were on there for a bit," she said with some curiosity in her voice. "I hope it was good news. I'm surprised the others aren't back yet. This waiting can get really boring you know." 

Walter smiles at the young woman and decides not to sugarcoat anything.

"The good news is that we couldn't find this Ju Ju House. My sources indicate that it is an extremely dangerous place to visit.

"I hope none of the others have run into trouble."

PM: