The Stanton Street Cemetery is bordered by a black, wrought iron fence which stands twelve feet in height, its posts planted firmly in cement, topped with sharp iron spikes which are clearly intended to deter intrusion. It is morning, the sun low in the sky, and the main gate stands open, an iron archway above it, iron letters on it providing the cemetery’s name to passerby.

A short distance beyond the gate are two buildings. A sign above the entrance to the austere, whitewashed structure on the left identifies it as the Bishop Mortuary. The two story structure on the right, a gambrel roofed Colonial building, displays no signage and has the appearance of a residence.

A paved drive leads between the two buildings and into the cemetery proper, becoming an oval alongside another long, single floored edifice that is almost certainly a mausoleum. From the oval, branches of the drive lead left and right into different portions of the graveyard. Northward, beyond the drive, several free standing crypts are visible.

The grounds are extremely well maintained. The lawn is neatly trimmed and beds of blooming flowers flank the entrance to the mortuary. Several trees, ash trees interspersed with a few oaks, dot the property. A short distance down the drive, a lone groundskeeper, dressed in denim work clothes and a straw hat, is busy removing a few small weeds.

The cemetery is quiet. The investigators do not see evidence of any funeral preparations. At the moment, they appear to be the only visitors.

Arthur looked around steadily at the environs. He hadn't actually come into the cemetery last time.

"Well, it's as good as not that the fellow I mentioned isn't here. I got a strange feeling around him. He wore a...top hat, as if it were thirty years ago."

After commenting, he scratched the back of his head and actually turned to the others. "Do we know where the Greenberg spot is?"

"The newspaper story mentioned it was near the Houston Street side of the cemetery," mutters Jake as he peers around. "And it's a crypt, so it'll be one of them little houses, right?" He's not well versed in the terminology of the undertaker's profession. And truth be told, he's a mite jumpy now that they are on the scene, chain-smoking his Lucky Strike cigarettes and tapping the hilt of his Roscoe every few minutes, just to assure himself it's at hand.

Sully stubs his own cigarette out on the curbstone. He hasn't been this near the old graveyard in a couple of decades. Not since taking a dare one Hallowe'en to climb the fence and touch Rosemarie Pickell's gravestone, she being a classmate who had succumbed to "brainfever" in the sixth grade. He'd ripped the seat of his trousers getting back over the iron palings that night.

"Let's go talk to that fellow," he says, indicating the groundskeeper, "You can describe your top-hatted fellow to him, Jake, and see if he knows who it might be. Could be a mortuary worker, I suppose. Funeral attendants held to toppers long after they went out of fashion for the rest of us. He probably can direct us to the Greenberg mausoleum as well."

Sully leads the way along the drive, hailing the groundsman: "Hello, there, my good man!" he calls, "Could you spare us a few minutes?"

The groundskeeper glances over as Quinn and his fellow investigators approach. Straightening to a standing position, he briefly removes his hat, wiping perspiration from his forehead. The group can see that the man’s dark complexion has likely been made even darker by hours spent in the sun. He smiles at the visitors from beneath a thick, but neatly trimmed, mustache.

He nods at Sully’s question, replying hesitantly, Si. How help?”

The professor walked alongside the others, eager to learn what the man might have to say. Upon noticing the man speaking a bit of Spanish, he perked up a bit. He spoke a bit of Spanish; if the others were having trouble getting good answers from the man, he would gladly help translate where possible.

"We wanted to ask about a fellow I saw here. He's tall, wide-shouldered. He wore a black overcoat and a muffler. He had a top hat on, the brim was pulled down a bit over his face. I had a very bad feeling about him. Does that sound familiar?" Arthur supplied any other details he could in short order, reiterating any details again to Professor Wells for translation, if the man did not seem to understand.

The groundskeeper gestures over his head, as though pantomiming the presence of a top hat. ”Senor, he works…” he points in the direction of the mortuary.

He continues speaking, lapsing into Spanish. [Language unknown: “M ckesei o oveut daymantinble. Ai ble ac tedll oersanyin. Ec out eenoulore thtr Heriic Ngsaee. Derainera Inemanint ekthe mich ughing'iveles.”]

Jake puffs furiously at his cigarette as the man switches into Spanish. At least he assumes it's Spanish. That's what the others said. To him, if it ain't American, it's all Double Dutch.

He does get the point that the fellow with the big hat actually works here. So at least he ain't a ghost. Probably just got bad breath that makes him seem creepy.

Sully exhausts his rudimentary Spanish saying good day and how are you and asking the man's name while introducing himself.

Wells broke out into a passable but slightly accented Spanish. [Language unknown: "An utun me ratcomint i eauee ove] Senor Bishop?"

 He pointed to the Greenberg crypt.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:45, Thu 11 Nov 2021.

Arthur watched on and listened, uncomprehendingly, with no small interest in the ongoing conversation. He thought to himself: Yeah, it just figures that he would be working at the crypt that might have some hideous monster hidden in it.

The groundskeeper breathes a sigh of relief when Wells addresses him in his native tongue. In response to the professor’s question, he points again to the mortuary. [Language unknown: ”Siulec Atidayest, be to wa we witstrwhi. Sti ntiestest pa ntouecfo.”]

At Wells’ second inquiry, he pauses, glancing over at the crypts nervously. Shaking his head, he replies, [Language unknown: ”Ne n prforo. He ploust iopoee m u osest. Pouson Aventeure, ut nghou whi nohas iv lo eratheter haswhiwhe erehisoerast utek laesoumo.”]

[Language unknown: "At haus iowhiv pa ho blevorles e Nttias oreundith, Pl pratro herlo, lat wateis...un tepr esssbe ie erac e nculan ectni een anyme illateons evesasie. Wh chng elent evemanproent, osolof tedou en."]

He made one last attempt to convince the man to speak with them further.

The groundskeeper frowns and looks at the ground. [Language unknown: ”Arpofi, ilenis thosta-terromive, ate a m ulek hat. He an a ssplth Il ckas conicatio…”]

OOC: Professor, please give me a Persuasion roll. You may also make a Psychology roll if you like.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:51, Fri 12 Nov 2021.

OOC:

My bad luck elsewhere is balancing out here:

15:53, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 26 using 1d100.  Psychology (50).
15:52, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 44 using 1d100.  Persuasion (60).

The groundskeeper’s voice trails off as he regards Wells, clearly giving weight to the anthropologist’s plea regarding the murdered young woman. He looks at the mortuary again furtively, then speaks, [Language unknown: ”E ni uswer it linblepro osie Adñil Meheai pr u me te wireolfi ul proverichhou p anntwhre. Iltin T st e riof. Ho leshouwer thstr pe. Ie ev eau nesi in lat ha’poenio. Erfoun ek ni heache elil e urai riomck koroneint ne ce lesoveticwil. M strstrwhi ut iserch ulllne o oul und eau K ticonsion ilados te ndeineandhis.”] He provides the professor with directions to the location he is referring to.

With a nod to Wells and his fellow investigators, the groundskeeper departs, making his way further down the drive.

"What did he say?" Jake asks, feeling a bit dumb that he can't speak the lingo. Plenty of Spanish on the streets of New York. More and more every year. He should learn and maybe start offering his services to folks up in Spanish Harlem.

Wells exchanges names with the Cuban man, bids him farewell, and promises to meet him at the appointed time, and chivvied the group in another direction and gave the man some space to leave. Once the worker went on his way, he shared the information with the others.

"It seems that he's familiar with the strange man that's been seen around here, but the fellow only talks to Mr. Bishop, the man in charge around here. And our friend here...he seemed pretty fearful of Mr. Bishop. He was reluctant to talk here, but will meet us nearby after his shift ends at five o'clock."

"Well, in the meantime, we could examine, up close, the impact in the alleyway which I spotted in my photograph. There is, of course, the family I mentioned, who were present for earlier disappearances."

He wasn't sure what to make of this Mr. Bishop fellow just yet.

"Did he tell you where the Greenburg crypt is?" asks Jake. They came here to see that.

"Yes, it is that one over there, come let's go have a look," he said, pattering off in that direction.

Sully makes a couple of quick notes and follows on to the Greenberg tomb. He keeps a wary eye for anyone in a topper.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:59, Thu 18 Nov 2021.

The Greenberg family crypt is one of the largest occupying the north side of the Stanton Street Cemetery. Built from pale granite, the exterior has been stained by the smoke and soot from nearby streets, which has rendered it flat gray in color.

A set of three steps lead down into an alcove. Flanking the opening, the neatly carved names of each member of the family who has been interred here can be seen, the most recent having been Sonia Greenberg. At the bottom the steps, the investigators can see that the crypt’s interior has been fashioned from white marble. A large bronze door, its surface bearing a relief of Joseph leading unseen followers across a flowering plain, provides the only entrance. The door is sealed. A pair of stained glass windows, each depicting the Star of David, are on either side of it.

Examine the crypt’s exterior, the investigators do not perceive any recent evidence of disturbance.

Keeping watch, Quinn does not notice anyone else moving about the cemetery, save for the groundskeeper.

Flatt takes his camera and takes photographs of the crypt exterior, and then takes a further photograph of the depiction on the crypt door. "I don't know if that will show up on a photograph, but if it doesn't, hopefully we can all remember."

Jake jots down the names carved on the crypt and the dates of their deaths. He will try to door, just to check if it can be opened. If it is locked, he will scrutinize the lock. (51% Locksmith)

09:37, Today: Jake Morris rolled 80 using 1d100.  Examine lock on crypt.

But it looks unfamiliar.

"I reckon at some point we'll want to speak to this Mr. Bishop, if nothing else but to gauge his temperament," he suggested.

"Yes, Professor, but...not alone. I just have a bad sensation about him. He's off-putting to me, and I like to think I'm a decent judge of a person."

He grimaced a bit, thinking about the fellow.

"Did our Spanish friend say that the guy in the top hat was Mr. Bishop? Or just that he works in the mortuary?" Sully asks casually as he goes about the alcove, reading inscriptions and jotting down information. He takes hold of the crypt door and gives it an experimental tug.

[Can I get a Luck roll to see if it's been left unlocked?]

"Cuban, I believe, not Spanish, but no, the two men are not one and the same. Bishop runs the cemetery, and Top Hat works in at the mortuary. The groundskeeper didn't know much of Top Hat, and claimed that Top Hat only speaks to Bishop," he said.

"By the by, the groundskeeper was quite worried about Mr. Bishop seeing him talking to us, and was in fear of losing his job, so please let's keep that quiet. If asked, we simply did some research and learned that Mr. Bishop was the one in charge, though I'm not sure as to the line of inquiry that might lead us to Top Hat."

"Do you think it credible that well, perhaps we can claim to be representatives of a wealthy estate seeking a plot upon which to construct a crypt, and that we were assigned to ask after this possibility, and speak to the various employees here to be assured of the level of service."

The bright July morning provides ample light for Arthur to capture several well framed images of the Greenberg crypt, including one of the tomb’s entrance.

Jake surmises that the crypt’s lock is operated by a fairly large key, of the sort that are still used to secure cells in some of the city’s oldest jails. The detective guesses that it is unlikely that the Greenberg family has the key in their possession. It has probably been entrusted to the staff at the cemetery for safe keeping.

Sully gives the door of the crypt a tug, but finds it sealed tight, the ornate portal unmoving.

OOC: Much as I would like to offer Sully a Luck roll (a good thought, that), the staff at the Stanton Street Cemetery are actually very diligent about ensuring that each of the family crypts on the property are secured against intrusion.

To their left, the investigators notice that the front door to the mortuary opens and a lone figure emerges. It is a tall, slender man dressed in a well tailored black business suit, a fresh red carnation in his lapel. He wears leather gloves, along with a black fedora and tinted glasses. As the door closes behind him, he produces a cigar from his jacket, which he lights with a match. Exhaling a small cloud of gray smoke, he appears to survey the nearby cemetery grounds.

OOC: To avoid any possible confusion, Arthur is certain that this is not the unsettling figure he observed during his visit to the nearby alley. In particular, the man who emerged from the mortuary is wearing clothes that are decidedly modern.

"Professor, you are the most reputable figure among us," says Sully, modestly, "You should approach this man who may very well be Mr. Bishop."

"Good day, sir," he said, approaching the finely dressed gentleman. "Are you the proprietor of this fine establishment?"

Before the appearance of this stranger, Arthur will have said the following to the professor and his other colleagues: "Yes, I think that excuse holds rather well. As far as the Top Hat goes--I saw him, he was unsettling. Why would well-to-do representatives of a wealthy estate not look into him? The place must be presentable and pleasant, after all."

Later, and concurring with Sully, he stood back for a moment and watched.

The neatly dressed man turns his attention to Wells as the professor approaches. ”I am,” he replies, extending his hand, ”Nathaniel Bishop.”

He studies Wells momentarily, the practiced assessment of a man who is accustomed to serving the grieving. ”What brings you to the cemetery today, Mister…?”

He took the man's and and shook it.

"Tony Wells," he said.

"We are here on behalf of a family of means, seeking to secure a plot upon which to construct a crypt at one of the various cemeteries in the city. We were asked to learn about this place, its history, and meet some of those who were employed here to get a sense of the level of service provided."

”Ah, of course. It is certainly wise to consider all of the available options before making such a commitment,” Bishop replies with a nod.

”Stanton Street Cemetery has a rich history. It is one of the oldest cemeteries in New York. My family has operated it since its founding in 1779.”

He glances in the direction of the entrance gate. ”I will grant that recent years have not been kind to the surrounding neighborhood. However, that has enabled us to offer some of the most competitive rates in the city.”

“Even so, there are a number of entrepreneurs who have recently shown a growing interest in lower Manhattan. This was once an elegant part of town and I am confident that it will be again. One that the descendants of the family you represent will be proud to visit, or reside in.”

He gestures to the mortuary door. ”Perhaps you would like to step inside? We could discuss some options and I could provide you with information on a reputable monument builder who I have worked with for many years.”

Arthur stepped forward shortly. "I should think we would all be ecstatic to step inside. I am quite impressed with the exterior, but to examine the interior would be best, of course. Who is this builder you speak of?"

Sully follows the man toward the mortuary building. Nothing more to be learned from the Greenberg mausoleum at present, it seems.

Bishop leads the small group inside. A small brass plaque just right of the entrance reads:


The cemetery owner escorts the four investigators though a parlor which is tastefully, but somewhat quaintly, decorated in Late Victorian style. Several caskets and crematory urns are on display. Bishop moves toward a closed door on the right side of the spacious room, addressing Arthur’s question as he walks. ”His name is Alessandro Bianchi. He constructs monuments and crypts. Excellent craftsmanship. I will be glad to show you some examples before you depart. He has worked with us for almost eight years now. I will confess that I am somewhat particular about the artisans I do business with and Mr. Bianchi has never disappointed myself or my customers.”

Beyond the door is an office, the centerpiece of which is a massive oak desk. A chair, upholstered in dark crimson leather, sits behind it. The walls on the left and right are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, which are filled to capacity with books. Bishop gestures to a group of chairs arranged in front of the desk while he removes his hat, hanging it on a hatrack. As he takes a seat, he removes his glasses and gloves. The gathered investigators cannot help noticing that Nathaniel Bishop’s skin is quite pale.

”In most instances, family crypts are designed with the intent of providing a resting place for several generations of the familial line. Is that what the family you represent desires?”

Jake hangs back, well aware that his looks are not those of a well-to-do family. But if pressed he may play the cheapskate nephew, concerned about cost above all else. For now, however, he probes the mortuary offices with his eyes for signs of the keys to the crypts.

"Yes, the family is looking to honor a departed loved one as well as see to the future of their line for generations to come. It is one of those families without such a place so far, but that honors the value of having a place of rest where the family can be gathered from here on out to mourn the loss of their loved ones and honor their passing."

Arthur added: "And the family is a decent size, as well. May I take photographs in here? They will be for the perusal of the family, of course."

Bishop draws a small album out of a desk drawer and slides it toward his visitors. ”These are photographs of Mr. Bianchi’s work, both monuments and family crypts.” He produces a business card from another drawer and places it next to the album. ”Mr. Bianchi may be reached at his workshop during regular business hours. I believe you will find his rates extremely reasonable.”

“If time permits, I can also show you some of the crypts that he has constructed here. There is one that the family has been gracious enough to permit tours of, for those wishing to construct similar memorials.”

He leans back in his chair, spindling his fingers. ”I had noticed that you were looking over some of the family crypts. The northern end of the cemetery is primarily dedicated to them. Of course, that is not the only area where a crypt could be constructed, should the family desire a more secluded location.”

At Arthur’s question, he smiles, a tight expression entirely without warmth. ”You are certainly welcome to take a photograph or two of the mortuary parlor, where the displays are held, as well as the cemetery grounds. As this is a private office, I would ask that you refrain from taking any pictures here.”

"That is most kind of you," Mr. Bishop, "This tour--including a couple of other cemeteries, you understand--is our only occupation for all of today.

"Was the Greenberg structure Mr. Bianchi's handiwork?"

[Was there anything particularly attractive or distinctive about the Greenberg mausoleum that we might cite as a reason for a closer inspection?]

Wells nodded with interest, taking notes as he listened and as the others contributed questions.

"Yes, that one in particular caught our eye as we approached. Very fine work."

”No, I am afraid that the Greenberg family’s crypt has been here for more than fifty years,” Bishop explains, “It was the was the work of a gentleman named Seth Cogswell. He provided services to this cemetery for decades, but passed away almost fifteen years ago. He is buried here at Stanton Street.”

“I will certainly agree that the crypt is impressive. When we step outside, if there are aspects of the structure that you especially admire, please point them out. I have every confidence that Mr. Bianchi could craft something similar for your employers.”

He lifts one hand. ”Regardless, I can offer good terms on a plot for a crypt of similar size. I’m not certain whether you noticed, but our grounds are very well cared for and we go to great pains to ensure that the cemetery is secured against vandals.”

OOC: Two things that are notable about the Greenberg crypt are its inclusion of stained glass windows and the structure’s Grecian style domed roof.

Also, any of the investigators are welcome to make a Psychology roll at this juncture, if desired.

Jake had begun to zone out as the undertaker droned on.

17:29, Today: Jake Morris rolled 91 using 1d100.  Psychology talking to Bishop.

Accustomed to listening to his students boast, fawn for special placements, complain about grades, and make excuses, the professor paid keen attention to the man's mannerisms, tone, and facial expressions as he spoke to see if he could detect any hint of duplicity or whether he was covering something up.

OOC:

Psychology: 4

18:00, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 4 using 1d100.  Psychology (50).

This message was last edited by the player at 23:02, Mon 13 Dec 2021.

Arthur had been paying attention to this fellow, although he was perhaps a bit focused on himself to catch everything he might have.

OOC: "02:03, Today: Arthur G. Flatt rolled 28 using 1d100.  psych (45)."

Bishop takes out a piece of stationary and, using a fountain pen, writes some figures and information on it in tight, neat script. He hands the paper to Professor Wells, who sees that it provides an estimate for the purchase of a site for a crypt location at the cemetery. Although Wells is not greatly knowledgeable regarding such arrangements, the cost quoted strikes him as reasonable.

”Perhaps I could take you to the crypt that is available for a tour,” Bishop says, standing. He draws a key ring from his pocket, which he uses to unlock one of the desk drawers. From the drawer, he takes a large, brass key. He closes the drawer and locks it again.

“Having a look at the interior may help you in identifying any specific needs your family has for their memorial. We can, of course, examine the exteriors of some of the other crypts that are nearby.”

“Shall we?” He gestures to the office door, putting on the dark glasses that he had been wearing when the investigators first approached him.

"By all means, Mr. Bishop, lead on." As Arthur began to follow the man, he cast a glance over to the others, wondering if any of them had picked up on what he had.

He nodded and carefully kept the papers provided him before rising in assent that they'd would go on the tour.

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 40 for Psychology 75

Sully tries to get a sense of the man as they talk and matches his stride as they cross the lawn toward the exemplar tomb.

"I noticed you keep that particular key in your desk drawer, Mr. Biishop, rather than having to sort it out from all the others. It bespeaks an efficient organization, as does the immaculate condition of the grounds. The conditions at some of your competitors' establishments are shockingly lax."

The undertaker collects his fedora, putting it on as he and the investigators pass through the parlor and exit the mortuary.

”I appreciate you noticing. I suppose it is a matter of family pride,” Bishop tells Sully as he leads the group to the north end of the cemetery, ”We want our customers to be confident that their loved ones’ resting place is consistently attended to and kept in good order. Stanton Street Cemetery has never been cited for any deficiencies by the Board of Public Health. We have been members in good standing with the Gotham Funerary Board since its inception.”

Bishop halts in front of a modest, but well maintained crypt constructed from white stone. Above the entrance, the name ”Tapley” has been engraved in tall, gothic letters. The single bronze door has been sculpted with an image of a field of wheat stretched out beneath a rising sun. The undertaker unlocks the heavy door and pushes it open.

Stepping inside, Bishop uses a silver lighter to two sets of candles in tall, brass candelabras which are arranged on either side of a tastefully painted mural depicting a peaceful seashore. Inscribed above it are the words ”Eternal Hope”. Between the illumination from the candles and the sunlight entering through the open door, the investigators have a clear view of the crypt’s interior.

The walls are of white marble and the eastern and western sides of the structure hold individual vaults where family members are interred. Most are vacant. Only three on the western wall have been used, the earliest burial having occurred in 1907, the most recent in 1918.

The interior of the crypt is quite clean, the flooring free of any noticeable dirt or dust.

”This is a very simple installation for a family memorial,” Bishop says, his voice made louder by the confined space, “The Tapleys did not desire anything especially elaborate. Of course, we and the craftsman can certainly work to accommodate any specific desires your family might have.”

OOC: Everyone kindly give me a Spot Hidden roll.

Having previously been told he would be OK taking photographs outside of the offices, Arthur busied himself snapping photographs as he looked around attentively.

OOC: "03:38, Today: Arthur G. Flatt rolled 31 using 1d100.  spot hidden (50)."

Jake follows along, content to let the scene play out, but he keeps his eyes open as they walk through the cemetery, looking for . . . he's not sure what.

When Bishop opens the door to the tomb, he hangs back, not over keen to crowd inside with the dead.

08:30, Today: Jake Morris rolled 55 using 1d100.  Spot Hidden in cemetary [vs 65%].

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 19 for Spot Hidden 50.

Sully looks about as they cross to the crypt, noting the landscaping and layout of the place. Inside the structure, he walks around quietly, taking in the mural and the other appointments.

”Do you think that a memorial such as this would suit the family who employs you?” Bishop asks, ”Or would they prefer something more elaborate? Or might they require an installation that is larger?”

Morris watches Bishop carefully as he unlocks and opens the door to the crypt. Does he leave the key in the lock or take it out as he set the door ajar?

If he leaves it in, Morris will try to find the remains of a candle, and start working the wax in his hands, out of sight, to see if he can make a soft enough lump to steal an impression of the key at the next tomb.

OOC: Let me know what rolls he might need.

"I believe the size is along the lines of what they were looking for, though I think they should prefer a more elaborate style and would have preferences in the design, though I think the work that we've observed casually on the more elaborate ones is of a very fine quality and one that would meet their needs."

"Would it be possible for us to see another example, in a more ornate style?"

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Bishop tells the professor with a slight smile.

”I will be happy to show you some of the other nearby crypts, although I will only be able to let you examine each one’s exterior,” the undertaker says in answer to Arthur’s request, “I believe there are some more elaborate memorials on the grounds that would provide a clear idea of what could be constructed.”

Moving closer to the crypt’s entrance, Jake sees that Bishop has left the key to the crypt’s entrance in the door’s lock, apparently confident that the group would only be inside the structure for a short time.

OOC: Jake, I would say that you’ll need to make either a successful Stealth or Sleight of Hand roll to pull it off. Your choice. I’ll allow you a -10 modifier to the roll, since your fellow investigators are doing a good job of keeping the undertaker engaged in conversation.

Jake works as quickly as he can, once the idea is in his head. He squeezes and squeezes a candle stump to warm it enough to be able to take a key impression. When Bishop seems to be paying the least amount of attention, he sidles up to the key in the lock and slips it out, pressing the shape, both sides, into the lump of softened wax, hoping to get an impression that someone can cast a new key from.

The key bobbles in his hand as he is sliding it back into the door, but he hopes Bishop did not hear over his yacking with the others.



<sup>15:31, Today: Jake Morris rolled 47 using 1d100.  Try to sneak key to take wax impression.

Jake Stealth = 45 + 10 = 55

Looks like a success? At least he has something he thinks might work! Now he has to find someone who can make the key. But an ex-copper like him will surely know locksmiths with a taste for larceny.</sup>

OOC: The roll is indeed a success, the assistance of Jake’s fellow investigators playing a helpful role.

Seemingly focused on salesmanship and his conversation with Wells and Flatt, Bishop never notices Jake draw the key from the crypt’s lock or return it mere seconds later.

The undertaker ushers the small group out of the memorial, dutifully locking the door behind them after they exit. Leading the investigators eastward, he halts at several of the crypts along the row, most of which feature elaborate construction, skillful carvings of words or images upon the walls, and impressive statuary. Clearly knowledgeable of the cemetery he oversees, he discusses each of the prominent details, providing them with a rough estimate of what each would cost to implement. Most of the crypts are clearly old, but it is plain that each has been well maintained.

Leading the investigators back toward the central driveway, Bishop says, ”I am well aware that an investment such as this requires consideration. Should you have additional questions, you’re welcome to phone during business hours or pay another visit to the cemetery. I’m confident that you will find the prices I’ve quoted very competitive and I don’t believe that you will find finer service anywhere else in the city.”

"I commend you for the dedication with which you maintain your facility and the informative presentation as to the options and possibilities. I believe I have sufficient information to review with my employer alongside information from other facilities and will be in touch with you if we have any further questions or wish to proceed. Unless any of my fellows have any questions, I think that for my part, I'm satisfied," he said.

Unless anyone had any questions, he would bid the man a polite farewell and proceed to discuss the next matter with his fellows. There was the matter of speaking to the groundskeeper at the indicated location.

Sully bids the mortician farewell. He will go along with the professor to meet with the groundskeeper. He rather hopes the barber shop might serve as a front for a speakeasy.

Jake will also go to meet with the groundskeeper at the barbershop, after making sure the wax impression of the key is in good shape and does not get warm or squished by his movements. If he can, he'll put the wax blob in a paper bag and carry it carefully.

Arthur makes his farewells, continuing outside with his colleagues.

Outside the cemetery, he turns to the others. "Well, gentlemen, are we all ready? It's right over this way..."

Arthur went in the direction of the barbershop.

Crown Barbers proves easy to locate with Arthur leading the investigators. The door of the corner shop stands open and the sounds of conversation and a radio, from which can be heard the details of the current contest between the Yankees and the Harrisburg Giants, drift out to the sidewalk. The customary red, white, and blue barber pole is mounted to the left of the entrance. Just right of the doorway, a well used shoeshine box sits unmanned.

Within a few minutes of the investigators’ arrival, the groundskeeper from the Stanton Street Cemetery arrives, glancing furtively back in the direction he traveled, as if to make certain that he was not followed. Nodding to the four men, he addresses Professor Wells in a low voice. [Language unknown: ”Ckaius ththri, tiev. T ckio taatom es pleipass nd taol ntosee hi tinichshecon, olul Fo ect p ainoveant. Ul illstakor e dinstiich out ee po mibe.]

Sully has hung his hat on the rack by the door and taken a seat in one of the barber chairs, requesting a light trim. Once enveloped by the sheet, he says, "This heat makes me thirsty. Got anything for a man to drink around hear?" He closes one eye in a slow wink.

The barber, his hair neatly parted on one side, smiles and nods in understanding. ”Heat in the city’s near unbearable this time of year,” he replies as he begins Sully’s trim.

”One thing I might suggest, sir. Last time you visited us, you left your coat behind. You might want to fetch it from the closet.” He nods toward a hallway at the rear of the shop. ”If someone back there asks, make sure you tell ‘em it was a trenchcoat.”

Arthur had earnestly hoped that Sully would mention a speak-easy, if there was one to find, since he could not really participate in this interview Wells was to engage in.

But, of course, he failed to mention this to Sully.

Wells greeted the man politely then asked him a few questions.

[Language unknown: "Ev reant osfoie iouiveven sama ac ckwipe icekpe issiri latet foha o laronethi iourutwit es ine Astrllfi son traersear na t enceaueau. I ivestalat erure catano u een? Ven kor ni enc he ofaiss chsaomar whom oveionect isofck ticoerast k un has?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 13:23, Wed 12 Jan 2022.

His hair trimmed, Sully rises from the chair and pays the man, including a generous tip. He gives Arthur and Luke a grin and nods his head toward the back of the shop. He opens the closet door and steps inside.

As it turns out, the “closet” door at the end of the short hallway is made from thick oak with a narrow slit cut into it at roughly eye level. As the three investigators approach, Sully can see someone peering out through the opening.

”What’s the password?” a muffled voice inquires.

"I'm looking for my trenchcoat," says Sully.

The door swings open and a broad shouldered man in a black jacket waves the three investigators inside with a smile.

Beyond the door is cozy barroom. On the right side of the somewhat narrow space is the bar itself, fronted by a neat row of leather upholstered stools. A large mirror adorns the wall behind the bar, along with shelves which hold several bottles of liquor and a selection of cigars. To the left are a row of booths, a few of which are occupied by customers. The speakeasy is dimly lit and most of the furnishings, including the bar, are crafted from polished black walnut, lending an air of warm sophistication to the establishment. The scent of tobacco hangs in the air.

A neatly dressed bartender nods at the investigators. ”You can have a seat at the bar, or at one of the open tables,” the doorman tells them, ”If you want a table, Greta will be along shortly to take your order.”

Sully smiles at the cozy establishment and walks to the bar, ordering a cigar and a round of drinks for his copanions.

Having followed Sully in, Arthur leaned in. "What did you make of that fellow? There's something suspicious about him, I'm not sure what it is."

He bartender is quick to fill Sully’s order, offering the reporter a light for his cigar. From a stool at the end of the bar, a silver haired man in a fedora begins to play a winding, slow paced jazz tune on a clarinet.

In reply to Arthur G. Flatt (msg # 80):

“In my experience,” Sully opines, blowing a stream of smoke at the grimy ceiling, “You get some odd ducks in the funerary trades, undertakers and morticians and morgue attendants and medical examiners and such. They’re either the mournful and lugubrious sort or chortling backslappers. On the whole I prefer the former to the latter.

"But most of them seem a little hinky, y'know?”
This message was last edited by the player at 02:17, Wed 19 Jan 2022.

Having been directed by one of the barbers where his companions had disappeared to, along with the password that would provide him entrance, Professor Wells steps inside the dimly lit speakeasy, joining his fellow investigators at the bar.

"Gentlemen," he said, joining them with a libation of his own.

"The groundskeeper, Mr. Cortes, is under a sincerely held belief that the cemetery is haunted. He used to work late into the evenings and says that he hears strange noises coming from some of the crypts and the mausoleum - and that he switched his shift to the morning as he was afraid to be there at night. He said that on the occasions when he has to work late, he still hears those noises."

After that sank in, he continued:

"He said that one when he had to work late, he saw a figure wearing a hooded black robe prowling around the headstones. He left before he could be spotted by the figure. He also indicated that Mr. Bishop seems quite well heeled, personally owning four luxury automobiles."

He paused a moment. "He couldn't explain why, but he believed that Mr. Bishop was...well the word translates to sorceror or witch. I know some of the details he shared with me seem far fetched, but gentlemen, I've been confronted with hundreds of students with all manner of lies and excuses in their careers and I'm extremely confident that he at least sincerely believed the things he was saying. His fears of Nathaniel Bishop and of whatever might be found on the grounds of the Stanton Street Cemetery after sunset are entirely sincere."

Arthur considered the professor's words carefully before speaking. "Well, that's the issue with superstitious types, isn't it? They'll sincerely believe anything. Still, I believe as is that there's something very odd going on there. Sully was just saying the fellow seemed a little hinky, but I'm certain it's more than that. I've a bad sense about that Mr. Bishop after speaking to him--he wasn't up front with us."

Having ordered his drink and lit his cigarette, he resumed his thought. "I very much hope that it's merely a matter of bad business practice, these feelings I've had about those at the cemetery." Pausing again for a second to drink, he quickly corrected himself: "Mr. Cortes excepted, of course, he seems like a good sort of fellow."

"Did he say what king of strange noises? And why's he keep working there if he's so unsettled? Groundskeeper jobs can't be that hard to find, or some kind of pick and shovel work.

"I'll see if I can get a line on Bishop from the back files at the paper. Should be able to get a home address anyway.

"Jake, you might ask your contacts about him too. If needs be, we can ask around the vicinity about him, but we won't want anything to get back to him.  Maybe you should shadow him for a couple days, see where he goes.

This message was deleted by the player at 21:20, Sat 22 Jan 2022.

"He didn't say much to identify the particular sort of noise," he said.

"As to why he keeps working there, you're welcome to ask him yourself if you consider that important. I assumed it was for the usual reasons that most people don't constantly improve their lot in life: there is a cost to employment searches that he is unable or unwilling to pay at this time, and perhaps the market for an unskilled laborer with a poor command of English isn't as high as you might think. That said, if you should come upon any employment opportunities for Mr. Cortes, I would certainly be happy to pass them on to him."

Jake gives a nod and a shrug in a fairly non-commital gesture. He's itching to get a key made from the wax pressing he has, and he's only half focused on what's going on in the speakeasy. He's also majorly distracted by an internal struggle not to get a drink with the others. So far he's managing to keep his thirst in check, but he knows if they settle in for a smoke and a few shorts, he'll succumb.

"OK," he grates, lighting another in an endless stream of Luckies. "We got more witnesses saying weird stuff is happening in the tombs at night. But me? I ain't one for ghosts. More likely rum runners moving barrels around when no one is paying attention. Or some other kind of low life who don't give a tinker's cuss about disturbing the dead.

"Seems like we should come back when it gets dark and sneak about a bit inside the cemetery, see if we can hear anything ourselves."

OOC: Does Jake know a likely place to get the key made? There's no real Connections roll to make, but he has 50% in Locksmith -- maybe that includes some knowledge of likely sources? Happy to roll if you wish.

OOC: I wouldn’t require a roll from you for that, Jake. I would presume that based on the contacts that you developed during your time on the police force, as well as afterward, you would be able to find a friendly locksmith who could produce a key from the impression within a few hours. In time for a late night return to the cemetery, if that’s what the group elects to pursue.

"Rum runners? Well, it must be a longstanding tradition of runners if it's been going on this long. Anyways, why would a bunch of rum runners be out there victimizing young women just passing through? I don't know--I don't think any of our theories are holding up, and I don't like that even a little bit."

He was winding down already, himself, and called it on the drinking after the first. He did, however, light up a second cigarette. He had, of course, heard that smoking was healthy. "I mean, obviously it's not ghosts or goblins, but there's got to be something, right?"

Sully tosses his cigar butt in the spittoon and drinks off the last of his glass. He shrugs.

"Why he stays isn't that important, I guess. I'm game for a midnight creep through the cemetery."

"As to his residence, I don't think you'll have to dig too hard to come across it. The two story Colonial style building to the right of his house looked like a residence, and I'd wager that is where Bishop lives," he said, hoping to add some clarity and save them additional searching.

"Well, anyways, it sounds like we've got an idea for where we're headed tonight. I think we could stand to take a look at the crime scene altogether, and maybe talk to the old-timer somewhere 'round here that shoe-shine boy mentioned to me before--his grandfather, I mean."

Jake will go and get a copy of the key made and set a place and time to meet up with the others later that evening. While he is at the locksmiths, he will ask about tools that might improve his chances of picking a lock of the kind this key would fit -- maybe even get some practice in.

Arthur will inquire after the shoe shine boy and his grandpa, looking to find out anything that the old man might have to say about that area or the cemetery.