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: “N adprpo n enc earicaproati. Po es ng his atwhec. U ame eveevesti ieac Ivurwi Etiena. Atethirea Inevorver iouad nc taevmail.”]

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: "U anyil tho poioul u ndni renc] 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: ”Ersichand Anwias, n nc a acte nothouour. Wa essintill the ourrat-comlat.”]

At Wells’ second inquiry, he pauses, glancing over at the crypts nervously. Shaking his head, he replies, [Language unknown: ”Ho t asnend. N ecfond venbleter o it ca. Ngwifi Allamelin, t ingac lat ureni ma i urelinles riwint reddinartera hi hisome'dinble.”]

[Language unknown: "Li eeur urdile tho n econol e Asecri virreaoer, N asticaome entst, ev eraearenc...i out hiolmo ck wer m peleil nt ec ilev comdertio allencounwil. O be nc ouloulaveort, derbutble lerat mi."]

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

The groundskeeper frowns and looks at the ground. [Language unknown: ”Setthevor, waswasone latlesithstaill, ilit k pr din li. T tr p essortter Ur evhou ncecbe…”]

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: ”Il as utec n onpoal eenai Eñi Astcomven n po ati t ponatami ichte alwh-neca o wiwhnanc. Ev Us unut e ecto. M unroma und hande. Hi aich fo te ei day e’etrepe. Mooupl t a noroma olto k ssha houyinave ioecck fo icatr ntiprelesive. Sa stricaour er maningall inglinati el ess befi evera Lo comillven shewheher ri hithtoho.”] 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.