The count rose at his usual time of 6:30am. He was finished with his personnel grooming by 7:15 and dressed for the day. He chose a three piece black pinstripe suit, this particular suit has a red pinstripe and the visual effect was quite stunning.

He accessorised with his standard silver pocket watch, black tie and jewel and top hat and gloves. Once satisfied with the look in his full length mirror he moved to retrieve his underarm holster and automatic pistol from the bed post and then he donned his jacket.

From his dresser he opened a small wooden box and retrieved his Colt New Service revolver and suede pocket holster putting it in his right trouser pocket. He declined talking it twin and closed the lid after putting two prideaux speed loaders in his coat pocket. As he went downstairs he pick up his Jade walking stick from the polished artillery shell hall stand. He quickly wrote a note that Perkin's could leave a message for him at his club and left it on the downstairs hall table.

The revolver felt heavy in his pocket and it gave a sense of security, he had seen the effects of the .455 Mk.III “Manstopper” rounds it was loaded with first hand. The custom alterations he had ordered from Colt through their London agency had created a potential small package. The “Fitz” cut was quite the rage at the Kensington Rifle and Pistol Club and he was one of the first to order a matched pair. Given the warning the inspector had given he did not feel under gunned.

As he locked the side door on the shop he gave a quick scan of the road before walking up the street and hailing a cab back to his club.

Again signing in and handing over his hat and gloves he checked his pigeon hole for any messages, he knew the Librarian would not have left anything but there were others who may of.  He had been working on a new contact for the last two months, a curator at the Royal Collection who was also a member. They had met informally at events within the club and had been formally introduced at a lecture the Count had delivered, spending the rest of the evening smoking on the terrace. Alas his pigeon hole was clear, never mind, there were other ways to curry favour or a friendship.

He made his way to the dining room and after scanning the seating area for familiar faces he took a seat by one of the windows overlooking St James Park. He collected a selection of sausages, eggs and bacon before sitting down and reading a copy of the Times.




Once satisfied and having congratulated the attendant on the excellent coffee he made his way to the entrance. Stopping again at the pigeon holes he extracted a fine leather Alfred Dunhill two cigar case and placed it in the curator’s message hole. On the back of his card he wrote a quick note and placed it with the case. The two Cuban cigars in the case had come from a special order he had placed at Dunhill’s of Mayfair, they were uncommon in London so he hoped the gesture would be appreciated.
And with that he was out the door and into the cab the doorman has called for him.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:42, Tue 19 May 2015.

Francis got up, drawing a bath for Lampton, getting his suit ready and ordering breakfast for 7am.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg #2):

Holding the cab door open for him, the doorman said, "have a pleasant morning, sir."

"Where to, guvner?" asked the taxi driver from the front seat.

Singh rises and makes his ablutions, then dresses for the day. He orders the usual breakfast to be sent up and admits Miss Holloway's maid.

In reply to Imran Singh (msg #5):

Phil waits eagerly for breakfast.

"To the Park Land Hotel, my good man."

He settles back for the ride watching the pedestrians as they walk by. London was unlike anywhere he had lived before exotic and exciting to him all at once. He yearned for home, it's stone villages and dark forests but he was beginning to find London to be his home.

Once at the hotel he again waited in the lobby for Howards group to descend. He scanned the faces of the people in the lobby looking for anyone out of place.

After bathing, Lampton dresses in slacks and a soft shirt, pulling a smoking jacket over them and wrapping a scarf around his throat. Then he goes in to a light breakfast.

After eating he wishes whoever is at table good fortune in their endeavours and retires to his room to keep working at the book.

Cynthia is in no rush to get up, but with such a quiet evening, it's hard not to wake up with the sun. She decides to dress well ... but not too well. One can never know with these artists, and he doesn't sound like he's especially well off. She briefly considers dressing conservatively, but tosses the idea. If she can't dress how she likes, she won't dress at all!

Once settled, she heads on out to the group and to eat some breakfast. Who knows when she might get a chance for a proper meal again.

Before turning in JM makes a few phone calls to a few places to arrange for munitions.

He wakes early and is one of the first at breakfast, he nods politely to Ms Holloway when she arrives.  "Good morning, it appears you will not be my passenger, unless you plan on changing"  He chuckles slightly and takes a sip of his coffee before continuing.  "I'll await Darlington and his paperwork before leaving, if this business can wait just a little, I'd like to start arming my plane.  Although, I could head down and start work and someone could follow me with the paperwork.  I need a spotter, and if said spotter might be able to use a gun, it could be handy.  I'm pretty familiar, so I can teach basics to the new and fearless."

He flips through the paper a little, scanning for anything of interest, as he drinks coffee and eats jammed toast, finally putting it down if nothing comes out at him.

"I think an aerial reconnaissance of both sites might be in order.  Sometimes things are only apparent from the air."

8:00am

The group convened in the Park Lane's dining room for breakfast. They felt relatively secure here, there was no direct route in off the street and any attackers would have to get past the alert and ever attentive lobby staff.

Amid the scents of bacon and eggs, toast and jams coffee and tea, John-Marc scanned the paper for anything of interest. The headline for The Mirror was "SAUCY SUE WINNING THE OAKS IS STILL UNBEATEN", about a horse race of which held little interest. There was an article about a debate in parliament the previous day regarding the introduction of daylight savings time. Nothing seemed to be of particular note or relevance.

Ralph showed up, dressed in his suit and hat.

"Another day of research for the good Doctor and myself. Anything anyone believes we should delve into? We will pick up the floor plans for the Penhew Foundation building, and try to do some research into the members of the Carlyle expedition. Anything else?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg #10):

Having mainly finished his breakfast, Major Storm harrumphed at the morning meeting as he sipped his coffee.

"Come now, a woman is no one to send on such a delicate mission such as this! No offense, Miss Holloway, just stands to reason.

"I'm an old hand at reconnaissance, if from horseback perhaps and not up in an aeroplane. I can handle a gun, even fired a machinegun but I'm no expert gunner, by Jove. We shan't go armed today my good boy, I don't we won't need to shoot down any Jerries or strafe the mansion!"

"Today, we shall observe the estate, for one. Other than that, I know of no other site of interest.

"Besides, the good Detective Inspector is not going to arrive until 5pm, so we should depart immediately."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 10:25, Sat 10 Dec 2011.

Having a clear task and no reason to wait further, Storm and Falcon got prepared to leave for Lympne via train.

Before they left John-Marc called his mechanic, Karlheinz, and had him begin preparing the Brisfit for takeoff. He decided against telling Karlheinz right then over the telephone about getting the twin rear Lewis guns and forward Vickers ready to re-install, there would be plenty of time for that after the flight. It would take some work anyways to install the mounts, and getting them back into place could delay takeoff and he was eager to depart.

The Brisfit should be fueled by the time they arrived. John-Marc would have to work out a flight plan when he got to his maps. It would be about a 150 miles round trip. He guessed about 50 minutes flight time there, another 50 back, wind and weather depending. They would have as much as an hour's loiter time over the estate but didn't want to appear too suspicious. It would be cold and he made sure Storm brought his heaviest coat, a scarf and thick gloves.

OOC: I'll wait for any retort from Cynthia before having Storm leave. Anyone going to pick up shotguns? They require no licence. Pistols and rifles require police permission to possess, not difficult with your connections.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:40, Sat 10 Dec 2011.

In reply to Major Charles Storm (msg #14):

"A woman can fire a gun just as well as a man can. If you don't believe me, meet me down at the range. But no, I can only be one place at a time, and I already said I'd take on this artist, whoever he is. I'd better learn his name before I get there, I suppose. I assume everything has been arranged already?"

Cynthia would like to bring her guns, but without a dedicated car to store them in, it's hard to carry them discreetly. Still, it's just a meeting with a bad artist. The worst she's likely to have to fight off is cheap wine.

I do believe the guns are stored in the room, so there's no further fetching required.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg #17):

"Would you like me to go along with you? I'll just be your ehhhh... assistant.  I'll need to clean up a bit."

"I always struggle to tell the difference between starving artists and hobos. Do you suppose he will as well? Well come along. When it comes to 'digging up the dirt', I think you have an edge over me."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg #19):

"Hobos, or bums, always dress better.  As for digging, I suppose you struck gold at some point in your life."

Park Lane Hotel Lobby

9:00am

A short cab ride later, Bathony was ensconced in the hotel lobby. He reviewed what little information he possessed about Shipley. Most of it was from articles in the London Scoop. A gallery in Soho (open at noon) was showing his work, but it seemed he was never there. He was something of a recluse, living elsewhere in Soho and working out of his home studio. Both the gallery and his home possessed a telephone number.

Two of the party he was there to meet were coming out of the dining room. It was Falcon and Storm. Major Storm addressed Bathony, "My good Count! Great to see you. The others are in the dining room. No firm plans have been made as of yet, people were talking about visiting the gun shop you suggested.

"Speaking for myself, John-Marc here is going to fly me up around Gavigan's estate in Essex to have a look-see. Farewell."

”Well have a safe flight... Good-day.”

The Count enters the dinning room and having spotted the group moves towards their table.

”Good morning, I hopped you all slept well ? May I ?”

If no one objects he takes a seat and when the attendant arrives orders a coffee.

”I met Mr Falcon and Major Storm outside and they said they where going to study the compound from the air... what an age we live in.”

”I have found a little about our artist friend. He currently has a small show but is never there so I suggest we go to his home/studio and inquire about purchasing some works. I have telephone numbers for both locations but it maybe advisable to not telephone first, it may arousing suspicions ?”

”Also Major Storm mentioned you still wish to go to The London Armoury, perhaps on the way. I believe we will drive by on our little visit or it is a very small detour.”

He begins to drink his coffee while looking at the collected hotel guests in the dinning room.

"Surely it is best if we go by the London Armory on our return to the hotel, if at all," Singh suggests, "We won't want to carry such cumbersome parcels with us to interview this artist, nor leave them in a hack.

"As to the artist Shipley, I take it you were able to obtain his address. Too bad the gallery doesn't open before noon. It would be better to see some of his work, even get a catalogue, before trying to pass ourselves off as patrons. Still, what cannot be cured..."

[So the party to see the artist comprises Bathory, Cynthia, Phil, and Singh.]

In reply to Imran Singh (msg #23):

"Regarding any firearms, I should imagine they will deliver any purchases straight to the hotel. We read about Shipley in the Scoop. Perhaps Maloney might have some useful information on him beyond the article. Or his delightful niece, what was her name? Molly. Yes, that's it."

"Yes I'm sorry I should have mentioned that service. The shop are quite good at getting their product across London, it was always waiting for me before I got home."

Cynthia bundles herself up in her coat, and makes sure the etching of the mirror is with her. She eats well, anticipating she may not have the opportunity again for a while.

"Ah yes, "Mongo". Perhaps we should give her a call before we go.  Mr. Lampton, she was your friend, was she not? Seemed quite keen on you."

Lampton, alas, has already returned to his room.

"Excellent Major, then we will leave forthwith.  Ms Holloway, I had a feeling you were quite capable.  I will be glad to familiarize you with a machine gun later if possible."  He freshens up his coffee and gestures to the Major  "Eat then, and we shall be going Major.  I will call to have my Brisfit readied."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:45, Mon 12 Dec 2011.