Roderick stumbles into the room, trying not to look at the bloody mess that was once a man. Instead he looks nearby to try and see if there is any lamp oil or open lamp.
If so Roderick will pick it up and throw it at the evil bloody man trying to escape through the window.
Roderick sees no lamp as the man flees out the window and the other watches him clatter down the fire escape. He seems unready to follow on the rickety escape until the other man reaches the bottom. Meanwhile the man facing off with Chang takes a painful blow to the chest from the bokken and is too winded to do much more graceful than wave his knife in Caine's direction until he can breathe again.
Sanity
Seeing the men rushing towards the window, Isabelle runs for the door, hoping to cut the escaping men off as they exit the building...or at least get a good look at them.
Jarred out of his shock by the fight, Jake doesn't think; he just leaps at the nearest enemy and takes a swing (movie reflexes!).
Fist/Punch (60%):
Roderick thinks for a moment; 'I wish I had my pistol, I would show these blighters a thing or two. No way I will be able to stop them with my fists.' He sees the Lady rush down the stairs, to try and cut their route off. "My lady, be careful." He limps after her, his hip and knee burning with every step as he hobbles down the stairs.
Each bend of his knees creates a flash of pain that he just manages to control without an exclamation. He tries to get to the bottom of the fire escape before the murderers, hoping that Jake and Chang will be able to hold them there long enough.
Roderick's knee locks up on him and he crashes to the ground on the stairs. He is helped up by a passerby after a few moments but he misses his chance to help with the fleeing men. Isabelle finds the elevator occupied by a boorish man who unsubtly attempts to solicit her company in his room. She is unfortunately locked up with him until he makes it to his upstairs room.
Back in the room, you hear a shout from the alley below as one of the men hits the street. The other begins climbing out the window and heading downward as well. Meanwhile, the man in the room attempts to back himself into a corner and strikes out once more with the knife he holds, though his continued assault by Chang leaves him still striking at nothing.
"Darn and blast." Rod says as he twists his knee and his ankle rolls over aggravating an old war injury. Looking round guiltily at his outburst he hobbles on towards the rear knowing he'll be much too late.... although he hopes to find some clues.
Utterly shocked by the gruesome sight, Seymour fights back the nausea while the more skilled ones fight the attackers. As the killers begin to flee, an idea flashes across Seymour's mind: "The car!" He rushes downstairs in a wild attempt to get into his car parked in front of the hotel and run the killers over.
vs 55
vs 70
It quickly dawns on Seymour that it was a bad idea, as the men he's after are easily able to zigzag between crowds and into a narrow alley where his car cannot fit. Disheartened, he drives back into the hotel and braces himself before re-entering the room.
vs 65
Caine strikes out once more, watching the others disappear and hoping he can manage on his own. One never knew, even against this unskilled attacker.
As the bokken strikes home against the man's temple his eyes go fuzzy and a large gash opens on his head as he tumbles over and falls to the carpet. Caine worries that if not treated quickly, the man may die from the sharp strike.
Seymour reaches the bottom before the men, finding them rushing into a black touring Hudson roadster 1915, Seymour's sharp eyes spot the licence plate: NYL7, just before the cultists speed away too quickly for him to follow.
The others emerge far too late, to find Seymour leaving his car before heading up to the hotel room again.
Unfortunately, Chang's first aid is simply not enough to keep the stranger alive. He awakens only long enough for a sentence. His crazed eyes opening as he grabs Chang by the shirt. "You will not stop the bloody tongue!" He says firmly, before losing consciousness once more. He doesn't wake, and soon Caine finds him without breath and quite dead.
Roderick looks across to Lady Isabelle; "Oh pish and bother, they escaped. I hope that chap can follow them." then he looks at her and realises "Oh I don't think we have been introduced, I am Roderick Farnshaw." he puts out a hand and ignores a twinge in his knee.
Isabelle a bit ruffled from having to fend off, and finally knee the rude man in the elevator takes a moment to regain her composure, and holds out her hand for a firm handshake.
"Most pleased to make your acquaintance master Farnshaw". "My name is Isabelle Fitzsimmon, but all my friends call me Belle".
Seeing Caine take on the knife man with some competence, Jake tries to follow the men out the window. But by the time he could get by the fight, they had already piled into their car and accellerated away.
Eying the emergency staircase with some trepidation, he turns back in disgust.
When they gather again he asks;
"Is everyone allright now?"
He fiddles with his cane, realizing too late he could have drawn the thing.
Seymour starts sweating profusely as the adrenaline buildup leaves his body. He wipes his face with a kerchief before opening up his notebook and showing the others a hasty sketch of a car with a licence plate and two cartoonish black figures inside.
"If we're lucky we could have the police track this car for us. Anybody here has a cop friend? Me, I'm just a writer, not very well-versed in the investigations."
It looks as if the room has been picked over fairly well, but not taken everything. Upon investigating the room the investigators are able to find the following:
A blurry, grainy photograph showing a large steam-powered yacht behind some Chinese junks. The name of the yacht is obscured, with only the first three letters visible: DAR
One ordinary business card, Front Text:
648 West 47th Street
New York, New York
Telephone: HA 6-3900
On the back Jackson has written "Silas N'Kwane" in ink pen.
A handbill inserted into the second volume of Andrew Dickson White's A History of the Warfare of Science with the Theology of Christendom, marking the beginning of Chapter XIV "From Fetich to Heigene". The handbill reads:
"Tonight Only"
The Cult of Darkness In Polynesia and the Southwest Pacific
A two-hour lecture with slides delivered by Professor Anthony Cowles Ph.D.
Of the University of Sydney (Australia) and presently Locksley Fellow of Polynesian Esoterica at Miskatonic University
Schulyer Hall, NYU
"Tonight Only"
Finally a small letter has been stuffed into the pocket of the cultist killed by Mister Caine, adressed to Mister Elias via his publishers at Prospero House and dated November 7, 1924.
Dear Mr. Elias,
I fear the book about which you enquired is no longer in our collection. The information you seek may be found in other volumes. If you contact me upon your arrival, I will be most happy to provide further assistance.
As Always, Miriam Atwright.
The final clue as to what may have happened here is a symbol, carved into the forehead of Jackson Elias as if by one of the knives.
Roderick smiles and with a wink replies; "Yes, you are a belle." He shakes her hand and gently brings it up to kiss the back of it. "I hope that's not too presumptuous. I was just coming here with my friend Jake, you knew Mr Elias?"
Rod swallows slightly nervous; "That's horrible what happened to him, but we should return to the room see how the others are and who those people were." Rod trudges to the elevator, making sure the Isabelle hasn't disturbing ride this time.
Jake can barely glance at the obscenely mutilated corpse.
"Jesus Jackson! What have you gotten us into now?" He muttered sadly.
"One thing's fer sure," He spoke up louder. "These ain't Thuggee by a damn sight."
Shaking his head, he pulls out an old script, flips it over, and starts writing down on a clean reverse side the various clues the visitors had found.
A copy of the Business Card, front and back.
The Handbill.
The Letter.
The Symbol.
And a description of the photo.
He sighs looking around at the horrid mess.
"I suppose we'd better call it in."
"Why thank you Mr. Farshaw". "I can assure you that your kindness was far different from the last gentleman...well man's advances". "I barely knew the man...but still it is most unfortunate what happened to him". "I hope you weren't close to him".
"No, I am afraid not" Rod answers Miss Fitzsimmons last question as they enter the suite once more.
To Jakes inquiry of health Rodericks voice sounds dark; "Yes fortunately, we attempted to cut them off....I am no coward. However my knee gave out." he finishes lamely, tapping at his leg with the cane he has been heavily leaning on.
"So, Mr...? I do not have any acquaintances amongst the constabulary, a couple at the import authority." he refers to Mr Seymours question.
Jake picks up the hotel room phone, dials the operator and has her connect to the police.
"Yes police? I have to report a murder..."
To Roderick - It's Stodgell. Seymour Stodgell. A pity we meet under such horrific circumstances. I was going to see Mr. Elias for some materials regarding the Carlysle Expedition which I hoped to use in my next book.
After Jake is done with the clues, Seymour takes them over and copies them into his own notebook, also doing a rough sketch of the photograph.
"Silas N'Kwane... Sounds like an African name. The murderers also looked African. Perhaps this man at Emerson Imports can know something about them.
And the lecture on Polynesian cults is tonight only... I feel we must visit it and learn whatever it is Jackson intended to learn there."
"Good point, sir. Although is it dated for tonight? I would feel very foolish if 'tonight only' performance was 3 weeks ago." Roderick winks. "I have never heard of the 'Bloody Tongue', it conjures a very tribal, visceral imagery. Completely different to the ephemeral name of the 'Golden Dawn' or other groups."
|
"Polynesian cult, the bloody tongue could be a cult."
"I am not certain we can both speak with the police and attend the lecture. I am also certainly to be detained in caning this one to death."
"Jake and I can stay here an await the police and the rest of you can get to the lecture, I am willing to leave the bit parts out and focus upon the star Mr. Westfield."
"Jake can we explain seeing one man break down this door and two others apparently coming in the window and us trying to stop a sensless murder."
"Hmmm". "Police involvement would be rather...inconvenient". "Attending the lecture is much more down my alley".
"Mighty kind of you, Mr Caine and Westfield. You have my business card and address if you need to contact me." He turns to Ms. Fitzsimmon; "And it will be a pleasure to escort you." He looks to Seymour; "And of course Mr Stodgell. This lecture should prove interesting."
"I wonder who Miriam Atwright is, a collector of books, maybe a librarian or private collector." Rod says examining the letter; "Something of import that that took even a letter referencing this volume."
"You are right Mr. Farshaw, we will have to find and visit this Atwright lady. But since we don't have her address we will probably have to turn to the Prospero House for her details."
As Jake fills the police in on the details of his involvement, the others quickly leave the hotel. The police arrive in good time, and an officer quickly cordons off the scene. As investigators arrive the beat cops ask Mr. Westfield and Mr. Caine to come down to the station for questioning.
Those who head to the University find it rather dull tonight, and asking about you find that the lecture was in fact ten days past.
|
|
Chang having conveyed the story to Jake, sits back and nods politely at the right time.
After jakes account (if needed)
"Mr. Westfield and I spoke about importing authentic Japanese puzzle boxes earlier today when we met. He had a meeting scheduled her this evening. We saw this man behind the door enter the room, we chased him in and he attacked with a knife. In the room the man was dead already and two more men escaped through the window after I hit the man behind the door with my cane."
Looking at the empty building and only the few students scurrying around, he turns to Seymour; "A writer, a word-smith, a composer of lyrical bliss? What type of books do you write? Anything I would have heard of?"
Roderick pays attention to the reply as they walk the long disappointing walk around. "I thought it might be a few nights ago, and now I appear very foolish. Although a man on your arm, Miss Isabelle, could never be a fool. Now maybe Professor Cowles is still around. He could give us a general overview or is lecture. And although those people looked African, they could have been Polynesian." He says with an accidental racism and a furrowed brow.
Lord Farshaw is not just moving slowly due to his trick knee and cane, but he also tries to make sure thy are not followed.
"Lyrical bliss? Ha-ha, not exactly my expertise. You could say I weave enrapturing tales of adventure and derring-do", he replies with a polite smile. "The Mystery of the Golden Scarab, The Land of the Fallen Star? Ever heard of those?"
Seymour attempts to find a senior faculty member and inquire about the current location of the Prof. Cowles. Also he will ask if there are any photographs or stenograms of that conference.
"Those sound like ripping yarns. Real boys adventure stuff. Unfortunately, it would cost a fortune getting them shipped across the Atlantic, unless you're with one of the huge publishing houses. We have to make do with our own writers mostly." he makes an excuse for not having read any of Seymours work.
"So Elias was a real adventurer, with both thee and Mr Westfield seeking his council for anthropological advice. Good thinking about the stenographs." He compliments the author.
The detective who comes in to speak to Chang and Jake is a dumpy looking older man with a balding pate who introduces himself as Lt. Martin Poole. "Now when you arrived on the scene what were the men doing? A ritual? Chanting? Any of that business?"
Upon asking the senior staff Seymour is able to find that Professor Anothony Cowles has returned home to Arkham University, a bit of a drive. One woman is able to sum up the lecture, though no stenograms or photos were taken. "He spoke of an extinct ancient cult that worshipped some kind of bat-creature. They were in the Western section of Australia, he had a few slides of their structures, though they were terribly over-exposed. He said the cultists used rabid bat venom and they were reported to turn into bat-winged snakes. I'm afraid I didn't pay the greatest attention, as Professor Cowles was quite off. Not even many came to watch him, only 20 or 30 people in the whole hall."
Jake smiles faintly and introduces himself to the detective.
At the question, Jakes smile fled as he remembered the scene of horror.
"I... I just remember Jackson's... body lying on the bed... those MURDERERS just standing over him...." He swallows, faint perspiration appearing on his forehead.
He pauses to wipe his forehead and light a Camel. He offers one to the detective.
After taking a calming drag, he looks up at the ceiling and thinks.
"Hmm. I was too shocked at the moment, but... from the way I saw Jacksons' things were scattered about later, I think they may have been searching through them." He said softly, expelling the smoke at the same time.
"Perhaps we could just meet with this Professor Coweles ourselves". "It does say he is here at the University"?
"No No ma'am, he doesn't teach here. He was a guest. He's returned to Arkham. A few hours drive. I'm sure I have a number about here somewhere." She rummages through a few things and finally comes up with a small index card. "Ah, there! Knew I'd find it." She smiles and offers you a pen and paper to copy it over if you chose.
Lieutenant Poole lights up the offered cigarette and takes a long pull. "That fits the M.O." He says with a sigh. "Well the evidence seems to clear you. The desk clerk remembers you going up and multiple witnesses claim to have seen the men running down the fire escape." He sits back and looks down for a moment. "I'm going to level with you son. We've had 9 of these kind of murders in the last two years. We have little to nothing in the way of clues or leads. The only captured suspect threw himself into a mirror headfirst before he would talk to us."
Jake shakes his head.
"I don't know Lieutenant. I've never seen men so... frenzied. Wild eyed. Could they have been on drugs? I mean, I've never heard of negroes and caucasians cooperating like that. It's just not done. And a couple of them jabbered at each other like..."
He takes another drag, thoughtfull.
"You know, they could have been speaking some kind of foreign language. I don't know what it was though, never heard it before.
"We IDed the man who attacked you. Joshua Chambers. He's just a coke fiend we've brought in a few times. Haven't seen him around in awhile. And to answer, there doesn't seem to be any kind of patter. Black, white, rich, poor, older men or young women. They just seem to be random. We kept the circumstances out of the paper but Bernard Carlisle was one of the murdered." Bernard Carlisle was a wealthy businessman who's murder was highly publicized several months ago. You recall seeing it in the papers or hearing it over the radio.
Seymour copies the offered details into his notebook and thanks the woman.
"So, it looks the trail makes us to go to Arkham. Unless, of course, you prefer the West Australia", he chuckles.
I think we all deserve a good night's rest here. Tomorrow morning I plan to visit the publishing house, and then it's time for the trip to Arkham. If anyone wishes to accompany me, it'll be my pleasure. My car can fit five people.
"I'm in". "Sounds like a rousing good time to me". "Should we tell those fella's that went to the police station". "I bet they'd be interested as well".
Seymour takes Belle and Roderick with him as they look for whichever police station is the closest to the hotel, then wait as the witnesses to the Mr. Jackson's murder are released from the interrogation.
Roderick is quiet in the back of the cab, maybe the bloody murder is affecting him.... or he is thinking about the New England antiquities.
"Yes, a road trip to Miskatonic University sounds intellectual. We do have to be careful about the other clues the savages left. Not to ignore them....However, if you can Seymour contact your publisher about that book?" Rod says sitting in the car.