By ten in the evening, the streets surrounding the Stanton Street Cemetery are primarily swallowed in shadow. The graveyard itself is largely dark, with only a lone light to the right of the mortuary entrance and a porch light on the covered walkway of the private home’s front door providing meager illumination. All is quiet among the tombstones and in the neighboring streets.

The investigators meet in front of an unoccupied brownstone on the corner of Stanton and Ridge streets. They see no one in the area observing them, though the faint strains of jazz can heard from the south.

OOC: If the plan is to climb over the cemetery’s fence, I will presume that one of the investigators obtained a ladder in the interim. Jake Morris is in possession of his duplicate crypt key.

Arthur arrived briefly before the next man, and welcomed his fellow investigators in quietly. He made sure to fill everyone in on his conversation with the old man.

He made sure to help with setting up any prospective ladder when the time came.

OOC: So, there was another fellow before Nathaniel Bishop, William Bishop. The fellow often slept late, but he did good work as an undertaker. He spoke fondly of a great great grandmother, Agatha, even though she'd been dead for a long time.

The old man heard odd noises coming from in there--scraping, thumping, the growling of dogs. He had seen a stooped figure there as a boy. The old man, Gregori, believes the place to be a haven for restless spirits. Arthur will, of course, characterize this all as fanciful ghost stories--you know the sort, and since we've already heard the ghost stories I doubt we'll be deterred. :)

Sully strolls up the street with his ladder, his hat on the back of his head and his tie loosened, smoke trailing from the stub of his almost-finished cigar.

"What ho," he says quietly.

Jake laughs and flourishes his new key when he meets the others and a cluster by the old brownstone, flicking away the stub of his smoke in an arc of ruby sparks across the street.

"Maybe get us in, maybe not," he grins. "But I got these as well." He slips a leather case out of his jacket breast pocket that contains a set of lock picks and shows them briefly, a kid on a jaunt.

When he hears Arthur's news about the long-ago sounds coming from within the tombs, he nods.

"Pretty certain something's down there, right? But I ain't afraid of no ghosts! Bet you five bucks it's some kind of smuggling going on."

"In either case, we shall have an interesting time of it, gentlemen," he said.

He hadn't performed an act of trespass in decades, but this seemed to be the jolt of excitement he needed in his life, as things had become too dull for his liking.

Arthur had, of course, welcomed Sully and the others with their arrival.

"Well, I'll take that bet, Jake. Not ghosts, not smugglers. Attack dogs, maybe." He had a smile on his face, as one does when they're accustomed to taking on small and even frivolous bets--and accordingly, he passed over five dollars for the bet, entrusting Jake with the sum.

Having set up the ladder with Sully, he scaled the ladder, tossing a jacket over the top if he felt it was necessary. As he scaled, he asked the obvious question: "Will you be fine getting down from this side of the fence, Professor? You seem healthy enough, but I was raised better than to assume anything without asking."

"I appreciate the offer. I'm younger than I look, so I think I can manage this one, but you know...keep an eye out in case I look to be tumbling," he said with a grin.

The investigators locate a section of the eastern cemetery fence where an older crypt is positioned nearby. Each member of the group is able climb over the fence, then lower themselves down onto the roof of the structure, and from there to the ground.

The graveyard is virtually silent, the only noise that of a steady breeze which helps to brush away some of the lingering heat from the summer afternoon. A short distance ahead, the investigators notice a tall monolith, made of dark, polished marble. Drawing closer, the group can see that the well maintained memorial has been skillfully carved with the square and compasses of the Freemasons. Beneath the large symbol are two neat columns of names, doubtlessly prominent members of Manhattan’s Masonic Lodge.

Further away, the investigators can see the cluster of crypts that include the Greenberg and Tapley memorials. To the south, the two story residence sits like a hulking shadow, a chapel and a single story cottage nearby. To the west, across the oval drive, the long pale facade of the mausoleum can be seen, along with the mortuary, which is mostly swallowed in gloom.

On the other side, Arthur turned to his fellow investigators and whispered the obvious. "To the Tapley crypt first, then, I suppose?" He turned to lead the way.

"Sure," he whispers back, "Jake's got a key."

Jake's a bit confused. Wasn't the Tapley crypt the one they'd already been in? The showcase crypt.

"Isn't the Greengurg crypt the one with all the funny noises and creepy stories?" he asked.

He just hoped the key would fit that lock as well.

The Tapley Crypt sits only a short distance from the cemetery’s oval shaped drive, a few paces northeast of it. Even in the moonlight, the structure’s white exterior make the details of the memorial easy to see. The bronze door, sculpted with a depiction of a field of wheat overlooked by a sunrise, is closed.

"I've got a thought that this crypt isn't really being used, and I'd like to see if I can confirm it." He waited to see if Jake might unlock the crypt door.

Jake steps forward and tries his brand new key on the lock.

The key turns easily, Jake feeling the heavy clacks of the lock’s tumblers. The bronze door swings open, revealing the crypt’s dark interior, the scent of stale air washing over the investigators.

Without further ado, Arthur stepped in. "Come in now, all. I'd like to see about the people resting here. I don't think this place is used, and I'm not even sure that there are bodies in here. I suspect this very crypt may be one of many things that are not as they seem here."

Only three of the available spaces within the crypt are marked as being occupied, the names of each of the deceased neatly engraved where they have been interred. The names given are Edward Tapley, Regina Tapley, and William Tapley. Edward’s death was the earliest, having occurred in 1907. Regina passed away three years after, in 1910. William is the most recent death, having lost his life in 1918. The dates given for William indicate that he was only twenty years of age and his inscription makes clear that he served in the U.S. Army.

It appears that the marble facing over each place of internment can be removed with some effort to access the area where the casket was placed. The spaces are not secured with any manner of lock.

Outside, the wind gains strength momentarily, the gust whistling as it rushes past the crypt’s open door.

Jake stands in the entrance, watching the others work. His body will stop the door from closing if the wind catches it. No fun getting shut in the tomb overnight with no keyhole on the inside.

"Did anyone bring a lantern?" Sully looks around for any source of light. His cigarette lighter and matches are limited in duration.

"A lantern? That would have been a grand idea. Why didn't I think of it? I suppose I could use my camera flash. I might want to take pictures anyways, you know?" Arthur was just about ready to kick himself in the seat of his pants, but he still moved up to the tomb and got in position to pull the slab to the side so he could take a look.

With some effort, Arthur is able to move the slab covering William Tapley’s resting place, carefully easing the piece of engraved marble to the floor.

The space beyond it confirms the photographer’s suspicions: it is entirely empty. No casket occupies it.

Noting this development with interest, the professor moves to attempt to check Edward's to see if it is similarly vacant.

In reply to Anthony Wells (msg # 22):

"Let me help you, Prof." Sully lends the professor a hand.

Sully rolled 25 for STR 55.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Sun 20 Feb 2022.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, turning after a long moment to help the Professor as well. "I don't think we'll find a casket here, either..." He afforded one glance back at Jake, since he thought maybe he was losing that bet after all.

Sully and Professor Wells remove the marble slab from Edward’s assigned resting place, lowering the heavy piece of marble to the crypt’s floor. Just as in the case of William Tapley’s place of internment, they find the space empty, occupied only by cobwebs and dust.

Sully peers into the empty niche, his head slightly angled to one side.

"Hm! I suppose the question is whether Edward has been removed or was never interred."

"Just a showpiece, then. I'll have to learn more about the Tapley family after this." Were they even real? If so, did they know about the empty crypt?

"Maybe we try our hand at the other place?"

In reply to Anthony Wells (msg # 27):

"It would seem a rather expensive sample. I'll see what the paper might have on the Tapleys."

"Yeah, let's go," shrugs Jake. "Nothing but empty cupboards here."

"To the Greenbergs, after all." Arthur spun about to leave with the others.

Jake will lock the crypt door as they leave.

Sully ambles along with the others to the Greenberg mausoleum.

Situated between two crypts of similar size, the Greenberg Crypt sits partially within a pool of shadow, its gray walls pale in the moonlight. The blue and gold hues that comprise its twin stained glass windows are muted in the evening dark. As the group of investigators draw near, they do not hear any noises arising from the within the structure. The tomb, like the surrounding cemetery, is eerily quiet.

OOC: Jake, if you want to attempt to open the lock on the crypt’s door, you can give me a Locksmith roll. You can also attempt to use the copied key for the Tapley Crypt on the lock, but if you do, please give me a Locksmith roll for that as well. Breaking one of the stained glass windows to gain entrance is also an option.

"Let's see if the same key works here as well," says Jake. He will try the key has had made in the lock on the Greenburg crypt.

16:03, Today: Jake Morris rolled 70 using 1d100.  Locksmith -- trying key in door of Greenburg crypt. BTW: Locksmith skill = 51%

"Not sure this is going to work," he mutters as he has trouble even fitting the key into the lock.

Next, he will try with his lock picks, his shaggy head cocked to one side and his tongue sticking out between his teeth as he concentrates on the tiniest of sounds and the feel of the picks inside the barrel of the ancient lock.

16:07, Today: Jake Morris rolled 35 using 1d100.  Lock picks in Greenburg crypt lock. Reminder: Locksmith skill = 51%

"Think I'm getting it," he whispers as something clicks inside the ancient mechanism.

After a few moments of effort, Jake’s work with his lock picks bears fruit, the door of the crypt unlocking with a dull metallic clunk.

Pushing it open, the investigators can see that the spacious crypt is lined with numerous places of internment on the wall opposite the entrance, many of which are occupied. Each individual resting place is marked by a brass plaque, with information about the deceased engraved upon it. On the left is a simple bench for seating. To the right is a large marble shelf, which holds framed photographs and family mementos. It appears to be in a degree of disarray, with several of the objects having been turned over or knocked onto the floor.

The crypt is completely still. Nothing stirs within the gloom.

OOC: Everyone kindly provide me with a Spot Hidden roll.

Jake smiles to himself and tucks the lock picks away. he's pleased he's still got his old skills. Then he looks around the tomb, noting the disarray of the funereal objects.

18:44, Today: Jake Morris rolled 45 using 1d100.  Spot hidden [65%].

Arthur crept in behind Jake, his eyes surveying the place quite closely as he scanned across the room.

OOC: "05:36, Today: Arthur G. Flatt rolled 50 using 1d100.  spot hidden (50)."

Sully steps into the crypt. "Nice work, Jake."

He stands aside by the entrance, waiting for his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom.

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 75 for Spot Hidden 50.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Mon 28 Feb 2022.

"Yes, a job well done," he said quietly, clutching his cane in his hand so that it didn't tap down.

OOC:

08:40, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 29 using 1d100.  Spot Hidden (50%).

Outside, there is a lone crack, the noise of stone striking stone, from somewhere south of the collected crypts. It fades almost as quickly as it is heard, the sound of the breeze filling the quiet once more.

Hearing the noise, Sully turns to look outside, taking a couple of steps into the cool of the evening dark.

Trusting Sully to investigate the noise outside, Jake kneels down at the base of the wall where he can see the dirt on the floor.

"Looks like a loose panel," he grunts, feeling with his fingers along the edges of the panel for purchase and any wiggle room to pull it out.

Arthur, likewise, ignored the sound, thinking his fellow investigators to have an eye on everything outside.

"I suppose if you're right we'll know soon, Jake." Arthur moved in to assist with the loose panel, if he possibly could.

Peering outside, Sully does not see anything moving save for the branches of ash trees, shifted by the wind. Nothing stirs amongst the neat rows of headstones.

Jake and Arthur are able to move the loose slab to one side. Beyond it, the two investigators can see that there is a crawl space sized tunnel which has been dug in the earth beneath the crypt. It has the appearance of a burrow, the work of some manner of animal, though the hole is just large enough for a human adult to wriggle through.

The scent of decay arises from the burrow, quickly invading the stale air within the crypt.

At first Arthur was interested, and leaned forward, looking into the hole just a bit. Then the stench hit, and he recoiled, nearly gagging, as he put a hand over his face. "What in the world?"

Sully peers into the darkness for a while, cocking an ear to follow the activity inside the crypt as best he can.

Struck by a sudden thought, he steps inside and flicks his lighter to look at the inside of the door. Does he find an inner latch?

Even without the stench, Jake knows he has no intention of crawling inside that hole. He has mild claustrophobia and the very thought of wriggling into a tight space like that gives him the heeby jeebies.

Sully does find a latch on the inner side of the crypt’s door, though it appears that it has not been used on some time. Unlike the structure’s neat exterior, the latch’s handle is filthy, encrusted with dirt and what the reporter guesses to be grave mold.

Examining the burrow more closely, Jake and Arthur can see that several feet in, the crude tunnel appears to be partially collapsed, making any attempt to traverse it likely impossible without tools to clear the makeshift passage.

"Strange indeed, though I'm not sure we can do much here tonight, nor what we'd gain from it. Besides, we probably want to be quick. Maybe that sound was nothing, but I'd not want to be found out in here," he said. The shock his peers at the university would have if he were to be apprehended in part of a suspected grave robbery was unthinkable! He idly started spinning stories in his head about how this might be related to his research...

Jake's not ready to just give up. They've discovered something unexpected in the crypt, but not what it means. He starts by judging the direction in which the tunnel goes, checking outside briefly to see where that leads in the grounds. He will also try all of the marble plates that seal the grave shafts tight to see if any others look dirty or feel loose.

Arthur steps outside and keeps watch, ready to move in a hurry back to the ladder spot if they need to. Just before he steps out, however, he turns to Jake, who he's noticed is continuing the work of investigating in here, and says: "Try to be quick!"

Stepping outside, his eyes well adjusted to the darkness, Arthur scans the cemetery grounds, looking for any sign of others who might be present. But the photographer sees no one. The graveyard is entirely vacant. Nothing moves among the gravestones and memorials.

Examining the burrow, Jake can tell that it travels in a roughly southwestern direction, though the slant of it informs the detective that it also descends deep into the earth at a steep angle. Some of the grooves in the soil that Jake can see are suggestive of claw marks.

Testing the closest of the marble slabs which cover one of the places of internment, Jake is surprised to find that it pulls away easily, as if it is only loosely fitted into the wall. Moving it to the ground, the detective peers inside to find that the space is occupied by the broken remains of a casket; the wood splintered and separated, several of the brass fittings pulled free. Aside from a few fragments of torn clothing, there is no sign of the body that was once placed there.

"Rats?" Sully asks the detective, peering into the opening beside him, "Grave robbers?"

"Or escapees?" Jake nods at the tunnel.

With a shrug at Sully, he tries the next slab to see if it too conceals and empty grave.

Arthur leaned back and peered into the structure, because he was pretty sure he was hearing things. Graverobbers? What in the hell would these folks be graverobbing for? Seems like you'd just run off business, not attract more of it.

"Or maybe a very expensive way to cover up some unorthodox but lucrative activity. A mortuary could be used to hide a criminal operation - a place where the stench of death wouldn't be unusual. A place like this with the latch on the inside...it could double as a safehouse as well," he suggested.

"Yeah," Jake moved on to the next panel. "But if they was using the place to hide extra stiffs, you'd expect 'em to double up the occupancy, right? Not take out the old ones.

"Plus, that coffin wasn't just slid out. It looked busted up. Like maybe someone broke out from the inside."

He's actually saying this for the shock effect, but even as he does, he gets a shiver at the very idea.

Sully tags along with Jake as he checks out other niches.

"There are certainly more convenient and comfortable places to hide out. And nothing here suggests anyone's been living here, no table or chair, no bedroll, no empty bottles or cigarette butts.

"And if the idea is to conceal murder victims... Well, two in one coffin isn't unheard of."

Like the first slab he sought to move, Jake finds the next rectangle of marble loose and easy to pull free. Within the space beyond it, the detective is greeted by a similar sight: a destroyed coffin reduced to fragments of splintered wood and no trace of the corpse that rested within it, save for some dirty shreds of clothing and a gold wedding band, lying a few inches from the opening.

Outside, the cemetery remains silent.

Sully points at the ring.

"No grave robber would miss that prize. Is there an inscription?"

Jake picks up the ring to examine it for an inscription. He puts it over the end of his finger to gauge its size -- is it a man's ring or a woman's?

He will also glance at the marble slabs that cover each niche looking for details of who was interred and when.

"Looks to me like someone tunneled in here and took the bodies," he muses. "Not your average crime scene, that's for sure. And not robbing the dead, as you point out," he flicked his eyes to Sully.

He straightens and moves on to the next grave, intent on opening them all.

"Ain't no critter, either," he grunts, tugging at the next marble slab. "If it was a big rat or something eating the bodies, it wouldn't have bothered to put the covers back in place. That's a deliberate act that implies a sense of imagining what someone might suspect by looking in here. Possible future sort of thing. That's the way only a person would think."

The ring does bear an inscription on its inner surface: ”Z.G. & I.G. 12/11/1868” The ring slides onto the detective’s finger easily, leading him to believe it belonged to a man.

Examining the slab he removed, Jake sees that the grave was for one Zundel Greenberg, who passed away on October 17, 1897. In close proximity to Zundal’s place of internment is one for Isabella Greenberg, who died on August 10, 1901.

Removing the slab to the left of Zundal Greenberg’s resting place, Jake finds another grave in the same condition as the others he has opened: the casket destroyed, with only fragments of wood left behind. Shreds of what were once a white cotton garment of some kind can be seen and, at the very back of the space, a few bones comprising what Jake feels certain was once a finger.

"Well clearly there were bodies here at one time. Long dead too. Why move them?" he asked, perhaps rhetorically.

OOC:

Anthropology: 66 (vs 71)

Just rolling to see if anything comes to mind about things various cultures may have use of bodies.

22:30, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 66 using 1d100.  Knowledge about some stuff.

Arthur was getting a bit antsy and, perhaps, wanted to rush this process, but he reminded himself to remain patient and continued keeping an eye on the outside of the structure.

Still, he was trying to stay listening to the findings the others were making, and so he turned back to comment, "My thought was...medical students, those sorts have robbed plenty of graves in the past. But this seems like a lot of work to go to, just to rob a grave, doesn't it?"

"It seems to me that medical students would want fresh corpses, not sixty-year-old remains. Besides medical schools get plenty of supplies these days and don't have to resort to skulking around cemeteries. Unless... Is there any way of telling whether these crypts were looted back in the last century, rather than recently?"

Sully stoops to peer into one of the niches, trying to figure out how long ago they were disturbed.

"Reckon we found more of a mystery than we expected," says Jake, sliding the gold ring off his finger and putting it back in the grave.

"Give me a hand with these," he asks the others, starting to replace the marble slabs covering the empty niches.

"Not sure what it means, but there's something going on in this crypt all right. Though what grave robbing has to do with slashing pretty girls open, I have no idea."

When the crypt is returned to as close to its original shape as they can manage, he suggests they follow the line of the burrow in the direction it goes across the graveyard and see if there is anything in that direction that might illuminate this deepening mystery.

With a little effort, the investigators are able to return slabs to their places, leaving the interior of the Greenberg Crypt with the appearance of having not been disturbed. Outside, the wind finds its strength again, a brief, muted howl sounding in the cemetery as it rushes through the tombstones.

Standing outside the crypt and estimating the angle of the burrow as best he is able, Jake sees that the tunnel would appear to travel beneath the cemetery’s oval driveway before reaching the structure at the graveyard’s southwestern corner: the Bishop Mortuary.

Sully follows Jake's gaze across the grounds.

"You know, I think you're right," he says, suppressing a yawn, "Those caskets look to me like they'd been ransacked ages ago when they were new. I doubt their condition has anything to do with our case. Still, something's out of whack with this place."

He gazes speculatively at the mortuary. "Contemplating a late night exploration?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:26, Thu 17 Mar 2022.

"In for a penny, in for a pound, right?" grins Jake, lifting his lock picks up to show them.

He will try to relock the crypt door as they leave.

Jake is able to secure the door to the Greenberg Crypt as the investigators depart.

The wind keeps its strength as the group approaches the mortuary, buffeting the investigators, the nearby trees and shrubs swaying under its force. The darkness in the cemetery is deep, the gravestones and crypts reduced to looming shadows in the murk.

As they draw closer, the investigators can see that there is an entrance door into the mortuary on the northeast potion of the structure. Unlike the public entrance, the door is unpainted and plain, with no light fixture to illuminate it. Just to the right of the doorway is a metal trash receptacle.

Arthur prepared his camera as they approached. He thought that, if the things they had seen so far led them this way, it was possible that he could be taking photographs of some evidence relevant to the young lady's murder.

"Ready, fellows?" He crept forward.

Quinn scans the building, looking for any lighted windows.

Sully does not see any hint of illumination in any of the mortuary’s windows. Aside from the exterior light at the building’s front entrance, the structure is completely dark.

Morris tries the knob of the northeast door, surprised to find that the knob turns freely in his hand, the unsecured door opening slightly.

"'Come into my parlor,' said the spider to the fly," Jake whispers in a fake ghoulish tone. He swings the door open and peers inside.

He also cocks his head to one side to listen for any noises within, and, remembering the smell from the tunnel in the crypt, he sniffs the air as well.

The professor didn't know what he was doing there that night with these other men, breaking into crypts and going into mortuaries, but he felt himself guided as if by an unseen hand down a path that he couldn't help but follow. He was silent as he did so, following along with the others.

Sully enters the building and wishes again that he had thought to bring a flashlight. He peers around the darkened space.

As soon as he swings the door open, Jake is met with the strong scent of fresh sawdust. Peering into the room, the detective quickly discerns that it is a carpentry shop.

Several caskets, in various stages of completion, rest on sawhorses in the center of the room, taking up most of the floor space. Three completed caskets have been placed against the western wall, beneath the only window.

Following Jake inside, Sully finds his attention drawn to the eastern wall. There, neatly arranged on shelves and racks, the reporter finds the kind of tools one would expect in a shop of this kind: saws, a drill press, a planer, clamps, and a lathe. On one of the shelves, Sully spies an oil burning lantern, a can of kerosene beside it.

Aside from the door the investigators entered through, there are two exits from the quiet shop: a door in the southern wall and another in the room’s northeastern corner, leading east.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:13, Fri 25 Mar 2022.

"Well, finallly some light." Sully crosses to the lantern. He sloshes it to estimate how much kerosene it contains.

Are these coffins or caskets? A casket is what we bury people in nowadays with a hinged lid and usually some sort of lining made of silk or another quality cloth. A coffin is more of a box with a separate cover that gets nailed in place. In any case, are the ones against the wall open or closed?

OOC: They’re caskets. I edited my last post to eliminate the confusion I caused. The completed caskets against the western wall are all closed.

As best Sully can tell, the lantern is full.

Arthur posts up momentarily at the southern door, peering out to check whether there was anyone outside who might catch them in the act. He would let the others check the Northeastern exit of the room.

Sully picks up the lantern and, on a whim, carries it over to look inside the various closed caskets in the room.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:42, Tue 29 Mar 2022.

Cracking the southern door and peering out, Arthur observes that it opens onto a covered walkway. To the south, the photographer can see that the walk leads to several entrances into the larger mortuary building on the left and right, coming to a halt at a large, polished oak door.

Immediately to the right of the door Arthur opened is a closed and locked iron gate. Beyond the gate he can see a small, concrete walled building with a chimney. To the left he notices an open area that appears to be used for loading and unloading vehicles. No automobiles are currently parked in the space.

Opening each of the caskets in turn, Sully finds that each has been lined with satin, one in dark blue, the other two in a rich wine colored fabric. Although the reporter is no expert, the caskets appear to the product of good workmanship.

Jake will listen at the door to the north east and if he does not hear anything try to open it quietly. The lantern is a blessing and a curse. It allows them to make out details, but will announce their presence far beyond their vision, even under the cracks of closed doors.

Jake hears only silence behind the northeastern door. Trying the knob, the detective finds that the door is locked.

Shutting the door, Arthur lets his fellow comrades know what lay on the other side of it. He waits to see where the others might prefer to go, once they are done here.

Leaving the lantern to aid Jake's efforts, Sully steps through the door onto the walkway and peers through the locked gate.

"I bet that's the crematorium," he says to his companions.

Jake tries his lock picking skills on the door.

The tumblers feel like they should give way . . .

12:57, Today: Jake Morris rolled 21 using 1d100.  Pick lock in woodworking room. Skill = 51%

With careful manipulation, Jake turns the lock. The door opens with a soft, metallic click.

The detective is greeted with the faint scents of wax and oil. The large room beyond the door is a garage, with two cars parked inside. Jake recognizes the first as a newer model Rolls Royce Silver Ghost with a white exterior. Beside it, in stark contrast, is a black Deusenberg hearse. Even at a glance, it is clear that both vehicles are immaculately maintained. No dirt is visible on either automobile.

The twin garage doors are each secured with a lock.

A number of tools are neatly arranged on a rack on the western wall. Below the rack sits a workbench. Cans of several different sizes occupy the bench’s right side. On the left, seemingly out of place, rests a large, cloth bound book.

Jake gives a low whistle at the classic lines of the Doozie and then moves to examine the large book. He sets the lantern down and turns the pages carefully.

Even at a glance, Jake can tell that the book has been frequently perused, but well cared for. Opening it, the detective sees that it a carefully maintained album.

The album contains newspaper articles, each one neatly clipped and pasted onto one of the book’s blank pages. Although he is only able to skim the book’s contents briefly, Jake sees that each article is concerned with the disappearance or murder of an individual in New York City, the majority specifically involving persons in the city’s Lower East Side.

Approximately four fifths of the album’s pages contain the clipped stories, the oldest of them dating from the late 1850’s. The most recent stories are from the Tribune and Pillar-Riposte and concern the grisly killings that the investigators are familiar with, the last articles discussing the untimely death of Jennifer Hargrave.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:42, Thu 31 Mar 2022.

Having stepped into the room after Jake, Arthur looks on as Jake flips through, shocked.

"I...can't even understand what this could possibly mean. What's this all about? Every thing we find, I'm less sure about what I think might be going on here."

Jake is careful to not tear any of the pages or leave any indications that he has looked through the book as he lets Arthur see what is in it.

"Could just be a morbid interest," he shrugs. "But I think our friend, Mr. Bishop has just become our prime suspect. Though I doubt he's been doing this for seventy-odd years. Maybe it's a family thing? Father and son killers?"

He beckons the others to see what he has found.

"Do we keep this as evidence? Or leave it here?" he asks.

No matter what they decide, their investigation of the cemetery has just turned from an odd hunch into a solid lead in the case.

Sully peers at the book, looking over the shoulders of the other men.

"Just to take up a different slant, it could be that the Bishop interest in these disappearances are in a vein of scholarly study of some sort. Still, I feel we need to talk to Mr. Bishop soon and at some length."

"I have a feeling he wouldn't take kindly to such a conversation. There isn't an easy way to explain that we found this collection of clippings here."

He took furious notes on his notepad, trusting that he'd be able to read it better in light making notes of the most recent killings.

"If we take it, we tip him off and he goes quiet for a bit. Maybe we could offer some anonymous tips to the police? We'd also want to ensure that he doesn't do this again."

"I could take some photographs of some of the pages, here?" Arthur gestured to his camera. "The quality would not be on the level of a full reproduction, but it's better evidence than nothing, don't you all think?"

Jake closes the book and picks it up.

"Let's just keep it," he says. "It's weird that anyone could get those old newspaper clippings if the book was assembled recently -- they look pretty ancient some of them. And I'd like to read through them in detail. Bishop don't know we're here -- not yet anyway. And if he suspects that the men who came to look at a crypt are involved with taking it, so what?

"It's the closest thing to actual evidence we've seen so far, and I don't want to risk it getting destroyed or hidden somewhere else.

"As for now, I think we should take a quick look at the rest of the joint and then skedaddle as quickly as we can."

He tucks the book under his arm and lifts the lantern high, giving the garage a brief examination, including shining the light into the vehicle windows to see what is inside each of them.

Unsurprisingly, the interior of both automobiles appear to be as meticulously maintained as their exteriors. Jake sees nothing within either vehicle that draws his attention.

Outside, the walkway leading to other portions of the mortuary, as well as the larger cemetery, remains quiet, with only the occasional gust of wind interrupting the silence.

Sully jots some quick notes to identify the papers, and where possible, the reporters of the articles. He offers to carry the book and lantern so that the detective will have his hands free.

Jake hands over the book and the lantern willing to Sulley and then heads back into the carpentry area.

"Well, gents," he nods out of the door that leads past the iron gate. "Do we keep pushing our luck? If we get caught at this stage, there are too many of us to overwhelm and we have some pretty damming evidence on Bishop to stop him from calling the cops. Though on the whole, I'd like to keep ourt visit on the QT -- until he wakes up and finds his scrap book is gone.

"I say we try our luck at those doors out there."

Proceeding quietly down the covered walkway, the group of investigators find that several of the doors at the southern end are marked with small brass plates.

The first set of double doors on the walkway’s western side are identified as “Embalming”. The next pair of double doors immediately south of them are marked as “Utility”.

Two of the three single doors further south on that side are identified as “Men” and “Women” respectively. The southernmost door on the western wall does not bear a brass plate that identifies it.

On the eastern side of the walk, the lone set of double doors bear a plate that identifies them as leading to “Storage”.

The double doors at the end of the walkway are marked as “Foyer”.

Sully tries the door marked "Men." A toilet would be handy about now.

Arthur steps through the double doors marked "Embalming." Maybe something here would hold answers--probably not, though!

Unsure of his options he decided that in a venture such as this, there was safety in numbers, and so he followed Arthur into the Embalming room to see what might be seen.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Wed 13 Apr 2022.

Sully finds that the room beyond the closed door, as expected, is a small men’s lavatory. However, the reporter does notice one thing that strikes him as odd. A thin layer of gray dust clings to everything in the room; the appliances, the small mirror above the sink, and even the tile floor. As Sully enters, his feet stir the dust, and he sees no other signs of recent passage within the narrow room.

Arthur opens the door of the embalming room and is greeted by the low hum of a refrigeration unit. As Professor Wells follows him in, both can feel the temperature drop, the long room noticeably colder than others they have entered.

The walls and floor are covered in pale green tile. Several cabinets line the northern wall, along with a sink and what appears to be an autoclave for cleaning instruments.

In the center of the room is a heavy steel table which appears large enough to support a human body. Arthur and the Professor can see several leather restraining straps dangling beneath the table. At the foot of the table is a metal tray which holds several scalpels, bone saws, and other surgical instruments. All appear hospital clean and razor sharp.

On the south side of the room are a set of ten large, white enameled steel drawers, clearly intended for the storage of corpses due for embalming. The drawers are set two-high into the wall.

The strong scents of formaldehyde, disinfectant, and decay fill the air.

Sully does his business, then turns to survey the room. It is most evident that no one has used these facilities for quite some time, leading him to speculate whether the business is actually in operation.

He runs some water over his hands before drying them on a handkerchief he pulls from his hip pocket. He makes no attempt to wipe the dust from the mirror, recalling various spook tales from his youth that suggested dire consequences could follow from such an act.

He wanders into the embalming room. He sniffs at the chilly air, wondering at the scent of decay in an otherwise clean environment. He saunters over to the large drawers and, curious, tugs one open.

Sully pulls one of the upper drawers open, which slides easily. Inside, covered up to the chest by a crisp, white linen sheet is the body of a slender, silver haired man. His eyes are closed, his expression like one who has fallen peacefully asleep. A neatly printed index card in the drawer identifies him as one Efrayim Mandelbaum, 82 years of age, who passed away the day before yesterday.

OOC: Sully, kindly provide me a Spot Hidden roll.

"Good evening, Mr. Mandelbaum," Sully says quietly, "Forgive the intrusion, please."

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 31 for Spot Hidden (50).

As Sully respectfully closes the drawer, he notices that on the tile wall above the rows of drawers there is a single tile, roughly eight feet above, which noticeably protrudes outward from the others.

OOC: The reporter estimate that if am empty drawer could be located, it could be stood upon to reach the tile in question.

Looking above the upper row of drawers, Sully calls quietly to his companions: "Say, felllas, that tile there is sticking out a bit from the others. If someone can boost me up a bit I'll check if it's loose or something." He's pointing to the tile.

"Oh. hold on, maybe I can just stand in this drawer, if it's empty. "

He tugs open the lower drawer right under the tile in question and prepares to clamber into it.

"I've got you," he said, holding the drawer steady so his companion could reach the drawer in question without risk of falling.

"Be careful up there, friend. Even a fall this height can hurt you, you know." Joss stood by in case his fellow did actually fall from his spot.

With Professor Wells steadying it, Sully is able to step upon the empty drawer to reach the protruding tile. Pressing it, the reporter hears an audible click.

To the left of the tile, a two foot square section of the wall swings out like a cabinet door. Behind it, Sully can see a recessed storage space, essentially a small closet.

Within the space are two steel trays. On each tray are arranged a number of stoppered glass jars ranging in size between a pint and a quart in volume. Each one is numbered, though it does not appear that the containers are arranged sequentially, with some of the higher numbers lining the front of each tray. An educated guess leads Sully to surmise that there are around thirty jars in total between the two trays. Each one holds what appears to be varying amounts of a blue-gray colored powder.

To the right of the trays, and closer to Sully’s reach, are a pair of one foot square tablets, cast from what looks to be stainless steel. Each tablet bears an engraved inscription.

Jake has been quiet, creeped out a bit by the embalming facilities and the presence of dead bodies tucked away in drawers. But his eye is drawn to the restraining straps under the big steel table.

"Wonder why the dead need to be held still?" he mutters. But the mortician's skills are beyond him, and he just chalks the detail up to mull over later.

The discovery of the hidden cabinet and the jars of powder add weight to the suspicion that the undertaker is in this up to his neck and that it is . . .. weird.

OOC: Not sure if Jake is yet aware of the tablets, but if he becomes aware of them, he suggests they take them down so they can read the inscription.

Sully reaches into the space to grasp the metal tablets and draw them out. "Here, Jake," he gasps over his shoulder, extending the plates to the detective as he tries to maintain his balance. "Mr. Flatt, you may want to get some puotographs."

He carefully begins to dismount from his perch on the drawer.

[Is this door at floor level or high on the wall?]

OOC: The door is high in the wall, above the two rows of steel drawers which store corpses awaiting embalming. It is positioned just left of the protruding tile used to open it.

Sully hands the two steel tablets to Jake, then steps down from the empty drawer.

Examining the tablets, Jake can see that the inscription on each one is somewhat crude, but legible.

The first reads:

”y’ai’ng’ngah
Yog-Sothoth
h’ee-l’geb
f’ai throdog
uaaah”

The second reads:

”ogthrod ai’f
geg’l-ee’h
Yog-Sothoth
‘ngah’ng ai’y
zhro”

Jake scratches his head as he examines the weird text.

"Looks like Double Dutch to me," he mutters. He will also turn the plates over and look for other details of their natures as he passes them to Art to photograph.

"Still think we should take them. Upset this guy, make him come looking for us. I'm not sure what's going on here, but I know that it's bad."

14:02, Today: Jake Morris rolled 89 using 1d100.  Spot Hidden [65%].

Sully takes out his notebook and transcribes the words(?) on the tablets.

"Should we inventory the jars? I don't know what the powder is inside them."

"Could I take a look at those tablets when you're done?" he asked politely.

OOC:

Looks like a good Anthropology roll, under 20% for sure! (11 of 71)

Does the old prof make anything of this nonsense?

17:18, Today: Anthony Wells rolled 11 using 1d100.  Anthropology (71).

Looking on with interest, and a bit disturbed at that, Arthur started taking pictures at every step of their search, firing off a series of shots.

"We should try and take a sample, Sully, if we don't have any clues. I don't know what that powder is, either."

Sully takes down the odd collection of words from the tablets while Professor Wells examines each of them. Arthur dutifully photographs everything, the clicks of his camera the only sound in the quiet of the embalming room.

Then, quite suddenly, two of the enameled steel drawers which hold bodies slide open, moving as if pulled by an unseen hand. The drawers are those in the lower left and right corners of the wall, each coming to a halt with a metallic click as they open completely.

"Jumping Jehosophat!" Morris hisses as the drawers open of their own accord. He reaches instinctively for his roscoe in its shoulder holster, cocking the hammer as the Colt .45 slides out easily.

With a start, Arthur quickly wheeled about to point his camera down the way at the steel drawer. He didn't know why it opened, but its opening had quickly put him on edge.

Sully is just attempting to step back into the drawer and reach up to get one of the jars when the two drawers slide out.

"Jee-zus!" he yells and tries to jump down to the floor, clearing the edge of the drawer but landing a bit off-balance.

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 23 for Jump 20.

Sully stumbles backwards. As he does, he spies the contents of the newly opened drawer to his left: a male corpse, clearly long dead, the cold flesh mottled and gray, the mouth sewn closed with dark thread. As the drawer opens fully, the reporter is certain that he sees the dead man’s eyes snap open, their unblinking gaze empty and milk white.

A moment after Sully tumbles to the tile floor, any doubt regarding what he glimpsed vanishes. The dead men in each of the now opened drawer both sit up, their lifeless bodies moving stiffly as they begin to climb out, the scent of decay suddenly overtaking the other odors within the embalming room. As they come to their feet, both corpses groan, a noise muted by their sewn together lips. Despite both showing no emotion on their gray faces, their unflinching stares communicate absolute malevolence.

OOC: So…before proceeding further, I’ll need everyone to provide me with a Sanity roll. A success will result in the loss of a single sanity point. A failure will incur a loss of 1d8 points.

Sullivan (Sully) Quinn rolled 19 for Sanity 50.

"Look out!" screams Sully (probably redundantly), scrambling to his feet and pointing at the undead corpses.

Did Sully manage to grab one of the bottles before jumping down?

OOC: He did and it survived the tumble. The glass that makes up the vial is thick, akin to those used to store acids in chemistry laboratories. The vial bears the number 29.

Arthur, perhaps redundantly himself, snapped several photographs as the thing opened its eyes and advanced upon them. He didn't entirely do this consciously, but entirely without thinking about it. When he realized what he was seeing, he turned to his compatriots, looking to usher anyone tarrying towards the exit to the room.

OOC: Where is the exit in relation to us, by the way?

Jake will try to kick the drawer closest to him closed hoping to trap the guard inside. They have gruesome disguises, but they’re Halloween outfits, surely? Nevertheless, the setting is giving him the creeps.

OOC: Using an iPad in a hospital bed latest night. No idea how to copy & paste my roll, or style text. But he made his SAN roll

08:26, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Anthony Wells, rolled 3 using 1d100.  Sanity.

Everyone passes their sanity checks and manages to keep their wits about them.

Although no one may intend to attack the dead men, I’m still going to treat the current situation as combat, since the order of actions taken is potentially important.

Based on everyone’s Dexterity scores, the investigators and their foes will act in the following order:

1. Jake Morris
   
2. Anthony Wells
   
3. Arthur Flatt
   
4. Sullivan Quinn
   
5. The Dead

Jake, if your intent is still to kick the drawer closed as you previously stated, I’ll need you to provide me with a Strength (STR) roll.

Jake makes an awkward shove with his left foot, trying to shut the steel drawer closest to him.

OOC : Rolled 68 vs 55  STR

The rising corpse is able to pull itself from its drawer before Jake can slam it closed. It stumbles, but manages to right itself as it stands, its milky gaze fixing on the detective.

OOC: Arthur, the only visible exit from the embalming room is through the pair of eastern doors, the same ones that each of the investigators entered through. They lead back to the covered walkway. Both of the walking dead are on the opposite side of the room from the exit. There is nothing blocking any of the investigators from fleeing in that direction.

Jake already has his gun out, but he’s keenly aware that they are the intruders here. There is no possible justification for shooting anyone, especially kids in Halloween Costumes.

But they don’t know that, . . .  Maybe?

He points the big Colt directly at the closest kid. Damn! Those costumes are good!

“Hold it right there, buster, or I’ll blow yer fecking  head off.”

The Professor wasn't sure what he found more disconcerting. First, there was the presence of what appeared to him to be undead corporeal revenants described in certain cultural practices, which were unsettling in and of themselves especially found where they were. Second, there was the fact that his comrades had started yelling during a late night breaking and entering expedition he had foolishly entered into.

He couldn't really help a yelp himself as well, inspired by the first fear and quickly swallowed by the second. Clutching the tablets close to him, he began to flee.

Though he snapped a photograph, Arthur wasn't keen on sticking around. He'd done everything he could in this situation, he wasn't cut out for a fight.

So, he stepped back, out through the eastern doors, and went straight outside. He knew the way out, and he intended to take that path quickly.

"Come on, Jake! Let's get out of here!"
Sully hastens across the room and through the doors, holding one open for the detective.

Jake backs away from the drawer guys and slips through the door (if he can get away before they reach him.)

"Close it! Quick!" he hisses to Sully.

The dead man who Jake attempted to trap in the drawer swings at the detective with a closed fist, the blow missing Jake’s shoulder by inches.

15:02, Today: The Keeper rolled 71 using 1d100.  Fighting - Zombie.

The second of the animate corpses appears to focus on Anthony Wells, making a noise like a gurgling growl as it lurches after the fleeing professor.

Jake is able to dash through the doorway just behind Sully, who slams the door shut behind the detective. For a moment, the mortuary walkway seems quiet and strangely normal to the four investigators, especially in contrast to the surreal scene that just unfolded within the embalming room.

The brief illusion of peace is broken by a loud groan and a heavy blow which rattles the embalming room door.

Arthur posted up at the next door, ushering his allies further to the exit. "Come on, don't slow everyone, the whole jig is up!"

Jake glances around for a way to secure or jam the door, at least long enough to give them a few moments to flee. It's sinking in finally that the costumes are not actually costumes and that the . . . things on the other side of the flimsy door are dead bodies, reanimated somehow. He can't quite put out of his mind the empty graves they uncovered earlier as well. How many of these . . . zombies might there be?

But the city of New York is less than a hundred yards away, bustling, modern, with no place for the reanimated dead. If they can get away they can be safe and regroup, decide what they want to do with the knowledge they have gained.

Though again, he has no clue how this horror show relates to the case they are investigating. Unless . . . unless the dead things are what have been attacking the living in the vicinity of the cemetery for generations. For some kind of ghoulish sustenance, perhaps. Which would explain the macabre scrapbook as well.

His mind is a bright whirl of conjecture, but his guts are ice cold with fear as the dead pound on the other side of the door.

"Leg it!" he cries to the others. "Scatter. Get away. If one of us escapes, they'll know what happened to the others."

He holds his pistol up, determined to give the other men a least a few steps toward the door. He's not planning to sacrifice himself, but he has the gun, and he's a sight more sprightly than some of the others.

OOC: Fun scene!

As Jake puts his weight against the doors, Sully whips off his tie. He loops the fabric around the door handles and ties a tight knot. The quality silk should stretch without ripping for a while, even if it stretches. His brain is a whirl as he tries to make sense of walking dead men.

He gives Jake a nod and runs up the covered walkway, jumping from the loading dock to run for the fence where they left the ladder. He really wants out of this cemetery.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Fri 29 Apr 2022.

He had to credit Sully for his quick thinking. For his part, the best he could manage was quick feet. He wasn't as spry as he'd once been - at least he liked to tell himself that he'd once been spry - so he had to use every ounce of his hustle to run for where they had left the ladder.

An instant after Sully knots his necktie around the door handles, another hard blow rattles the doors, both visibly shaking in their frames. As the group runs down the walkway toward the carpentry shop, another pair of strikes on the doors can be heard, the noise easily audible to the fleeing investigators over the sounds of their own rapid footfalls and breathing.

The group of men dash through the shop and back out into the shadowy graveyard. As before, the cemetery has the appearance of being empty, with no one besides the fleeing investigators moving amongst the memorials. Glancing toward the two story residence, the group can see that the house remains dark. No lights come on within any of the windows. It would seem, at least for now, that none are aware of the disturbance in the mortuary.

Moving with as much haste as they can muster, the investigators reach the iron fence on the Stanton Street Cemetery’s eastern side, climbing onto a crypt to reach the ladder waiting on the other side. As they begin to cross to the dark street beyond, the men hear the distant sound of a crash, coming from the direction of the mortuary. Fortunately, each is able to exit the graveyard before anything emerges from the building.

Taking the ladder with them, the investigators hasten to a dimly lit street corner a few blocks away, where they halt their retreat to catch their breaths. They see no signs of pursuit in the direction of the cemetery.

Alternately hacking up phlegm and cackling with laughter, Jake pants and grins around at the other fellows when they duck around the corner and slow to a stop, out of sight of the weird cemetery.

"We're all too old for this!" he gasps, flattening himself against a wall and sneaking a quick peek back the way they came.

As soon as he is satisfied they are not pursued, he will suggest they adjourn, either to Wells' office at Columbia or to an all-night cafe somewhere not too distant.

"So what did we get?" he asks, placing the scrapbook of horrible deeds on the table and inviting the others to share their loot as well. By his recollection, there were a couple of engraved metal plates and some jars of dust, though he's not certain those ever got taken.

"Pretty darn certain that our boy Bishop is involved in some seriously creepy stuff and knows much more about the killings around here than an innocent man would."

He's still having a little trouble wrapping his mind around the assault by the animated dead bodies and hoping that someone else might even have a rational explanation for what they saw.

Sully runs with the others, pacing the prof to make sure the older man doesn't get left behind. He comes to a stop when Jake does, gasping and chuckling and coughing. "I feel like a kid again. That was nuts." He mops his brow with his handkerchief. "Who were those guys?"

He puts away his handkerchief and brings out his flask, taking a swig of the rye whiskey and offering it to his companions. From the side pocket of his coat, he produces the vial of powder.

"I still got this."

Puffing hard, Arthur put his hands against the wall and leaned in. He realized his hair was a mess, and set it right.

"You feel like a kid? I wish I did."

Arthur took a swig, and produced a pack of cigarettes, offering a smoke and a light to anyone who wanted one.

"So, Jake, I guess it's safe to assume no one's actually winning that bet."

It takes Jake a moment to remember the five-dollar bet about there being a smuggling operation going on in the graveyard, but then he grins and nods at the jar of powder Sully just put on the table.

"Guess we'll know when we find out what that is," he says, taking the proffered smoke and light from Arthur.

"Pretty sure it's not cocaine or heroin, but it might be some kind of exotic drug or spice. Whatever they've got going in there is bad news, and we can be pretty certain they're not going to like the fact we know what they're up to."

He exhales smoke and looks over at Professor Wells.

"Any chance you can get this stuff analyzed at the University, Professor? And maybe there's someone who can help us translate what was on those metal slabs."

Professor Wells indicates that there are experts at Columbia University who might be able to assist in identifying the objects the investigators were able to escape with. He shows the others the pair of steel tablets, which he kept hold of during the group’s rapid retreat.

The investigators agree to meet at the Professor’s office at Columbia at mid morning the following day to discuss their next steps. One by one they depart into the dark of the late New York evening.