"Anything in that book about the Bishop's, Professor?" Sully asks, "Because what I read bout the Massachusetts branch, they were pursuing such activities back before the Revolution."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:10, Fri 22 July 2022.

Jake grins at the Professor's long winded comment and the ten cent words. He likes to present a dumb jock exterior, it put the other police officers and detectives more at ease with him when he was on the force, and the persona has just kind of stuck. Behind the beetling brow, however, lurks a real mind and some education.

"Weird gods, huh?" he lights up a Lucky, offering the pack around. "Bringing the dead back to life?

"Well, we saw that last night, right enough." He takes a deep drag on his cigarette and blows out a plume of smoke.

"You think these zombies are what's been killing folks around here? Eating them or some such?

"Don't think the NYPD is going to go for that as an explanation. And as for getting a judge to lock 'em up? Nuts to that."

Arthur shook his head at Jake, gesturing at the notes he'd been taking--notes which were taken down both in shorthand and with handwriting which was nearly illegible, which were therefore perfectly arcane to anyone but himself.

"No, I don't think it's just...I think there's more. The book, it talks about many things, but there was one thing there--the ghouls, it mentions the ghouls. They serve the god, and they have rubbery faces like wild dogs, that's what you said, Professor. The zombies were slow, right? I--I mean, maybe one of those zombies could get a young, healthy girl if she thought they were...homeless or something?"

He pulled out the photographs of the site where the poor girl had been murdered. He pointed down at a photograph, but his hands were shaking a little hard, and someone would have to steady them to really see what he was gesturing at.

"But look, look, the cracks in the ground there. It was so strong, and fast if she couldn't get away. That's what I think."

"You are quite right about that, Mr. Morris. I do not believe that the police or any authority figure would accept this as credible information. For that matter, I don't believe that our employer in this matter would accept this as credible information either. We would be summarily dismissed, and I'm afraid that unless we pursue this, the Bishops and their co-conspirators would remain free to continue doing whatever they are doing to the good people of this city."

He paused as Flatt continued.

"Yes, there was also mention of ghouls, you are quite right. All really quite disconcerting. I'm not sure what these men's aim is precisely and what they aspire to do. But if the ghouls could eat the bodies of the dead and consume their memories as well...if that is true, then they could gain much by owning a mortuary. The knowledge of the movers and shakers of the city could gain them much. The empty coffins within the crypts...nobody would check on their contents normally, so it wouldn't be much of a risk. There is surely a possibility of monetary benefit from such endeavors."

Sully shakes his head sorrowfully. "My editor sure isn't going to accept any such story this side of Hallowe'en.

"But look, the Bishops have been burying people in that boneyard for nearly two centuries. Why start attacking young girls from good families now? I mean, maybe they were preying on the down and out types of the Lower East Side all this time--and getting away with it--so why make waves at this point?

"And what about that vial you found in the girl's room, Jake?"

Jake shrugs at Sully's question.

"To be honest, I think the vial was why she was there. Nice girl slumming it to score a little toot for her and her uptown girlfriends. The vial tells us she's done it before -- and she was out of stock. So she came downtown to score, and was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"The others whose families I spoke to were all decent folks who made a mistake, or took a shortcut they knew they shouldn't.

"I don't know if was ghouls or zombies that got 'em, but something terrifying, that's for sure. Maybe this fellow in the top hat -- even the grave digger is afraid of him. Maybe he wears the hat to hide some weirdness about his head.

"Any how, I don't think we're going to find any justice for Jennifer Hargroves by meas of the law. I think this is a case of an eye for an eye. Mrs. Hargoves hired us to find out what happened to her little girl. I think we know. But I don't think we'll be doing her any favors by telling her the truth -- not that she'd ever believe it, anyway. I was there last night and I barely believe it myself.

"But the lady is hurting, and we know who did it. Zombies, ghouls, scarecrows, whatever. It was Bishop behind it all. He's the one we need to bring to justice. Even if it is rough justice." He eases his Roscoe half out of his shoulder holster just to make his point.

OOC: I took the liberty of making INT (Idea) rolls for each of the investigators. Everyone passed, so I’m going to share the following:

1. One fact that can be gleaned from Sully’s research into the Bishops is that the residence that stands on the grounds of the cemetery is the oldest extant structure associated with the family. The home was built and occupied long before the graveyard went into business. The house has been home to several generations of the Bishop line.

2. Most would be aware that any manner of underground construction that was lawfully undertaken on Manhattan Island would have to disclosed to the City of New York and approved by zoning authorities.

"Whadda think, Sully?" grinned Jake. "Maybe a trip to City Hall, go through the zoning committee's archives. See if anyone filed plans for a mad scientist laboratory back in the day?"

Arthur laughed, a bit inappropriately given the circumstances.

"Imagine it: a cult of zombie raisers and witches and warlocks brought down by city records."

He slumped back in his seat. "Yes, I suppose we should look into that."

"I suppose that would be prudent. I can't help feeling that before this is all over, we'll be forced to go into that creepy old manse. God knows what we might find there."

Victoria Surrette, a displaced native of Lake Charles, Louisiana, is working the counter at the New York Office of Public Works and remembers Jake Morris when the investigators pay a visit. Having assisted him previously, the talkative clerk is willing to help again, though she arches an eyebrow when the detective explains that he needs to know of any underground construction that has taken place beneath the Stanton Street Cemetery. Holding up a hand, palm outward, Surrette says, ”I don’t wanna know. I don’t. Give me ten minutes.”

She returns earlier than that with a map and a typewritten letter, both of which she slides across the counter to Morris. ”So…this is a little weird. But in this city, what isn’t?”

“So, for a lotta years, the cemetery was linked to the Stanton Street sewer tunnel that runs east to west. But apparently, in the 1880s the Bishop family, who owns the graveyard, started complaining that the sewer was constantly backing up, even when it would rain just a moderate amount. Eventually, someone in the family took the city to court and the long and short of it is, that sewer tunnel got bricked up along with one south of it, along Rivington, and they’ve stayed that way ever since. Both stop at Goerck Street and don’t resume til Suffolk.”

She shrugs. ”East side of the cemetery is now serviced by the Sheriff Street sewer, west side by Pitt Street. Doesn’t look like the cemetery owners have thrown any fits since then.”

The letter, on city letterhead, describes the solution to the sewer problem Surrette described and has a date of October 4, 1882. The map shows the arrangement of the existing sewer lines in the neighborhood, illustrating the section of the Stanton Street line that is no longer in operation.

OOC: An image of the sewer map appears in its own, dedicated thread for ease of reference.

Sully is very polite, almost ingratiating: “Fascinating, but not what we are looking for. Is there a plan regarding subsurface construction by the property owner? Either renovation or original construction?”

Jake is not quite so quick to think this is not in the way of a clue. He speaks quietly to Sully as Miss Surrette looks again for documents.

"Seems to me these bricked up tunnels may be exactly what we hoped to find. They got them closed up by making bogus complaints to City Hall, and who knows what's been put in down there now? Look how long the tunnels are. Blocks and blocks. It's a space taller than the Empire Building laid on its side.

"Maybe there's some old manhole covers along Stanton Street. We can climb down inside and take a look see?"

"Sure, Jake, sure and we'll check it out. But I want to know if the first Bishops built anything on their own down there. We'll also want to calculate where the mansion stands in relation to these tunnels. And the mortuary.

Surrette departs momentarily, to check the existing records in regard to Sully’s inquiry. She returns in time to hear him and Jake Morris discussing the Bishop residence. ”It looks like in the 1890s the Bishop family registered with public works plans to expand the basement of the home that’s on the property,” she says, ”The proposed expansion would have gone over one of the old entrances to the vacant sewer line. The city ultimately approved the plan. They said that there wouldn’t be any structural or safety concerns with what the family requested.”

She shrugs. ”That’s it. All I could find. Other than letters from the Board of Public Health and the Gotham Funerary Board stating that the cemetery’s in good standing with them.”

OOC: What time of day is it? If it's anywhere near appropriate, Jake will invite Victoria to have a bite of lunch with them

The clerk quirks an eyebrow at Jake’s request, plainly suspicious that the detective may be in search of a favor, but she agrees with a smile and nod. ”The Olive Blue Lunchroom is a couple of blocks away. Their kitchen’s always good.”

Sully beams at Miss Surrette. "Splendid. And I insist it be my treat. I haven't been there in ages." He hopes he isn't stepping on any flirtation Jake is intending.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:29, Sun 07 Aug 2022.

Arthur, watching from the back, came up behind Sully and snapped his fingers in the air in front of him.

"If you're paying, I'm eating. I'll cover our next meal. Now, Ms. Surrette, what would the point of that expansion even be?"

Surrette glances back at the file. ”The reason the family gave to the city was a need for additional storage space. Said the home had been in the family’s possession since its construction and that they had accumulated a number of heirlooms that they wanted to retain.”

She shrugs. ”Ask me, sounds like they have a bunch of junk they need to sell or throw away. Rich people problems.”

She smiles at Sully. ”I appreciate that very much, sir. You can’t go wrong with their open faced turkey sandwich. It’s marvelous.”

---

The Olive Blue Lunchroom is a cozy, family run establishment that sits between a tailor’s shop and a bakery. The interior has a welcoming, home like atmosphere, the table and floors immaculately clean. The pleasing smell of cooking food hangs in the air. When the investigators and Miss Surrette arrive at the diner, the lunchtime rush has begun to lessen. A plump, gray haired woman greets the group warmly and escorts them to a corner table.

Quinn glances over the menu.

"I believe I'll have the tuna melt with cottage fries and a cup of tea."

Jake orders the open faced turkey sandwich on Victoria's suggestion and makes various flirty overtures, but he's not going to put on the full court press with the other guys right there. Between bites, which he tries to remember not to gobble down like he hasn't seen real food in a  week, he listens to her to her insights and nods.

They clearly need to investigate underground, but this is not the place or time to discuss that.

"So," he blurts out at last, "is there a Mr. Surrette? Other than you Dad, I mean." He blushes bright red even as he asks.

Victoria sets down her fork at Jake’s question, regarding him with a smile. ”Why, no Mr. Morris, there isn’t a Mr. Surrette. Just me and my cat Lola in a little flat in the Lower East. My parents live upstate in Utica.”

Still smiling, she takes a sip of her coffee. ”Okay, I have to ask. Why are you fellas so interested in that cemetery anyway? Place gives me the creeps.”

He gave Jake a sidelong glance, but said nothing of his overtures toward the young woman, eating politely while he listened. He was keen to ensure that nobody had slipped any peanut butter into his food.

"I'd give that place a wide berth if I were you, Miss Surrette," he said.

"The neighborhood too if you can manage it. We're in the employ of a private citizen looking into a bit of a missing persons type situation, and let's say that it seems there've been several in the vicinity. So we're interested in anything that is very unusual. And blocking off sewer entrances to build a bigger basement is at least a bit unusual."

”You don’t have to tell me twice, Professor,” Victoria replies, ”My mother didn’t raise any fools.”

“When I moved over there about two years ago, I made sure to make friends with some of the people in my building. More than one told me to stay off of Stanton Street and the area around the graveyard after sunset. Said people got held up around there…and worse. Every afternoon, I’m out of the office right at five and on the first subway back to Essex. I’m home long before dark.”

She shrugs. ”I’ve got my Dad’s old Ford, but I don’t drive it to work. I usually only take it out when I’m going to visit my parents.”

She pauses to take another sip of coffee, but stops as she brings the cup halfway to her lips. Her face suddenly goes pale. ”Wait. This is about the recent murders, isn’t it? I read the Tribune. A couple of girls right around my age were killed not long ago. That’s what you’re looking into, isn’t it? And you think it might involve the cemetery?”