River of Shadows (1895)

[Tsukiyumi]

“Of course. Anyone who’s interested may join me in the library to review the information at hand. There is much to discuss.” Ibrahim brought May another drink, and again leaned over to whisper in his ear. May nodded again, dismissing Ibrahim with a wave.

[Uzume]

“Well, old friend, my restaurant has been left in capable hands; a telegraph will be required to notify my staff of my extended stay. I’m in, partner.” Cookie exclaimed in a robust, jocular tone.

Maude had a look of consternation and conflict, “I could use a rousing adventure; however, my ranch hands expect me back in a week. I make all the arrangements and place all of the orders for my stock; the hands simply do as they’re told… Although, one of my favored ranch hands' sons will be returning from university in a couple of days; if I can send word, he’d be quite capable of running the ranch. That is why I sent him to university in the first place. Yet, I will need to keep in touch to make sure things are running smoothly.”

May nodded, “Of course. The telegraph office in town should be able to send message. I, of course, will compensate any fees associated with any of you who need to arrange your affairs.”

Maude nodded thoughtfully in return, “Well, you can count on my trusty irons, then, dear sir.”

Newt listened attentively to the conversation, feeling even less important than before; he had no one to miss his absence, no business to run, or even a job to fret over. He leaned back in his chair, savoring the best meal he’d ever eaten. Rubbing his belly, he interjected, “$5,100 bucks, huh? I got nothin’ to lose; I’m in.”

[Tsukiyumi]

May smiled at Newt, “I’m glad to hear it, son. You’re an important part of this plan.”

Newt smiled uneasily back, “If you say so.”

At this, Ibrahim began refilling drinks around the table. Outside, the storm seemed to somehow be building in strength; the sound of an old tree or two toppling could be heard with increasing regularity.

[Tsukiyumi]

After a dessert of Bananas Foster, the group was led back into the den by Ibrahim. May followed with the group like any of the guests, “My friends, any who wish to retire after a trying day may feel free. Any who wish to join me in the library, please follow. I must admit my excitement; I feel as though I may yet see my sister’s sweet face again.”

May headed up the staircase, and into the grand library.

[Mikey]

Charles walked out of the dining room in step with his uncle and murmured, "He seems very attached to a half-sister of whom he had no notion for 99% of his life."

"Well, the rich and connected often have such affectations," Robert replied. "Good thing there's no such hawsers in our family, eh?"

Charles looked at his uncle sidelong for a moment, then said, "In any event, I think I need to talk to our esteemed host a bit further. You're going to check the library, I trust?"

"Of course," Robert answered, stopping at the drink cart in the parlor. Both men poured themselves a small tawny port, while Dr. Zelman opted for a ruby. The two academics headed up to the library while Charles caught up in stride with Dr. May.

"While everyone's busying themselves with sight-seeing, perhaps I could have a few, more in-depth words, Doctor?" Meanwhile, O'Neill - who had followed the detective out of the dining room - had come to a standstill, busying himself with deliberation over the array of after-dinner drinks.

[Uzume]

While Cookie headed upstairs with the rest of the group headed for the library, Maude hung back, “I’ll go check out the stables, if that is acceptable; you mentioned that the cultists had slaughtered your horses a few years back. I know a lot of time has passed, and I’m sure you inspected them thoroughly, but I’d like to have a look myself.”

May paused on the staircase, “Of course, madam. When you finish, you can join us in the library to look over the evidence I’ve already gathered.”

“Of course, Doctor.” She replied, heading back into the hallway toward the stables.

Once there, she began inspecting the floor, rafters, walls, looking for anything out of place. All she found were seven perfectly groomed and healthy quarter horses and a variety of expensive riding gear. She patted one of the horses on its thick neck, and softly rubbed its velveteen nose. Satisfied at the thoroughness of her investigation, she made her way into the workshop.

***

Newt deliberately loitered in the den as the others headed off. He noticed the dumbwaiter hidden behind the big clock, and artifacts from around the world. One in particular caught his eye, and he moved closer to examine it. The closer he got, the more uneasy he felt; a knot in the pit of his stomach grew stronger. He couldn’t place it, but it seemed familiar.

Ibrahim chimed in from over his shoulder, “That piece is one that Wentworth May picked up on his travels in the South Pacific. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Startled, Newt shrunk back from both the man and the artifact on its pedestal, “Y-yeah, I guess so.” He stammered.

On a pedestal of solid black marble in the far corner of the den was an icon of some primal culture, a small bas-relief of a creature from mythology unknown to the world at large. About six inches across, it described a creature reminiscent of an octopus, a dragon and a humanoid simultaneously. An odd stirring of emotions followed Newt’s realization of its familiarity. He’d certainly never seen anything like it in New York.

Shaking his head slightly, Newt turned to Ibrahim, “I’m going to hit the sack. I ain’t much for readin.”

“I shall be in the kitchen cleaning up if you require anything, young sir,” Ibrahim bowed, and headed off.

***

As she entered the den, Maude was nearly knocked down by a fleeting blur, “Well!” she exclaimed.

Without slowing toward the stairs, Newt said, “Sorry, ma’am,” and disappeared.

Still a bit frazzled by the spastic child, she decided to head to the kitchens for a cup of tea before joining the others in the library.

[Tsukiyumi]

September 21, 1895, 9:09 PM EST

Outside, the thunderstorm reached its peak; the thunderclaps drew closer together, and lightning arced across the low-hanging clouds. Unseen by all but the bravest in the town that remained outdoors to watch the sky, a series of dark green lightning bolts seemed to leap from the ground in several places, emerald branches spreading across the sky.

Inside the manor, the lights flickered out again, and this time, stayed out.

In the library, Doctor May moved to light candles and oil lanterns, and Ibrahim headed out of the kitchens to light other candles around the manor. Maude followed him upstairs, waiting for a moment to converse.

[Uzume]

Maude cautiously climbed the stairs behind Ibrahim; the man’s frame lit by a halo of candlelight was the only thing guiding her. He paused on occasion to light a candle in a wall sconce, and progressively made his way toward the library.

At the top of the stairs, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned with a subdued smile, “Ma’am?”

“Yes, Ibrahim. I’ve been meaning to talk with you for a moment, if you can spare one?”

“Of course, my lady.” He paused, placing the tall, pewter candelabra in the crook of his elbow.

“Yes, um, it’s about this house. I’ve noticed since I arrived, and looked about, that the foundation appears much older than the house proper. Is this observation correct?” Maude asked, herself framed momentarily by a green flash from the lightning outside.

“You are very observant, Mrs. Brewster. The house itself was built atop a much older structure by Professor Wentworth May some thirty years ago. The original house was destroyed in a fire a few decades before that.” Ibrahim began slowly ascending the stairs as he spoke.

Maude followed, “When was the original structure built?”

“In the early 1700’s, if I recall correctly. The location was, and still is an excellent one. Do you have any further questions, madam?” Ibrahim paused again, waiting for her reply.

“I’m curious, did you help Professor May with his research? And, why did they leave you here if they wanted everyone out of this house so badly? I mean no disrespect, I’m merely curious.” Maude placed a hand on his forearm to reassure him.

“I did help Professor May, quite often. He was a good friend, as is his son. I.. am not sure why they left me alive after Professor May’s death. Or when they came after his children, for that matter. Perhaps, they thought me unimportant.” He seemed troubled by the question, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Again, Ibrahim, thank you for your time.” She gave him a genuine smile, “I don’t see how anybody could deem you unimportant. The way you singlehandedly run this huge house.”

She then turned towards the library as Ibrahim bowed thanks and headed off to ignite other candles.

[Lighthawk]

“So, we’re really going to do this?” Claude asked in a soft voice. He had delayed in getting up from the table, and Silvia and Daryl had likewise taken their time, leaving the three of them slightly behind the main group.

“Oh yes,” Silvia replied. “I am going to insist upon it I’m afraid.”

“Very well then,” Claude sighed, blowing out his mustache. “However I’m still charging my usual fee on top of what the good doctor is paying.”

Silvia chuckled. “Of course.”

Claude gave a sharp nod, and sped up his pace, maneuvering his way alongside Doctor May, who was talking with Charles, and engaging himself into the conversation. Silvia glanced over her shoulder at Daryl, but the young man had already slipped away unnoticed. She smiled, and promised herself that one time she would manage to catch him in mid-disappearance.

Heading for the library, Silvia passed by Claude and the doctor, catching a piece of their conversation.

“…"Ibrahim put up a fight; knocked two of them out cold, but they were too many in number. They dragged her out the front door, kicking and screaming, while others broke into my office and stole the manuscript and my father's heirloom. I got off a shot at the last fellow, but my flintlock has limited range. I missed, I'm afraid…"

And then she was in the library, a great room with high vaulted ceilings, the bookshelves encircling the entire space. She glided along the shelves, eyes scanning across the volumes, which were in remarkable condition, even though many were quite old. She plucked several out that caught her attention; The Beatus Methodivo, On Alchemy, Gebri Regis Arabum Philisophi Perspicacissimi, Studies of the Indians of the Miskatonic Valley, Visions From Yaddith, and a few others until she was struggling under the weight of her collection, which she tottered on over to a table. Depositing the books with a muffled thud, she seated herself, pulled down the top book on the pile, and began skimming through the pages.

------------

“Right in here sir,” Ibrahim said, showing Claude into an empty room; empty save for the torn and dirty dress hanging on a peg. The dress belonged to the doctor’s sister, the one she had been wearing the night of her abduction. It was one of three important clues the doctor had recovered, and Claude had insisted to check over each. May had suggested that he and some others might begin investigation of the town, particularly the locations he had discovered the clues. Claude had assured him that he intended to do just that, but only after he had looked over the items in question.

“Bring me the locket and letter here, if you would,” he told Ibrahim, who nodded.

“Of course,” the man replied, and headed off to do so.

Alone in the empty room, Claude shuttered, looking at the dress. He pushed his feelings aside, forcing himself to see and think, but not to feel. Right now, dwelling on his feelings would do the poor girl no favors. He could feel pity for her later. He approached the clothing, and bent to examine it in detail.

[Mikey]

Before Claude slipped away with Ibrahim, Charles held a forestalling finger up to Dr. May. Turning slowly, he said unaffectedly, "When I want you involved in MY conversations, Mr. Adams, I will tell you so. Until then, do NOT eavesdrop on me. Ibrahim," he added more brightly, turning to the valet, "when you are done escorting Mr. Adams, I'd appreciate a word."

Continuing their way up to the library, they came upon Robert bundling an armful of daybooks and loose notes over to a reading desk in the corner and igniting a lamp from a taper. He arranged himself so that his back was between the room and the desk, and half-rose to remove his jacket. "Well, he'll be occupied," Charles commented to May. "For all his bitter ambition, what really drives him is a core of unadulterated academia. I just wish he'd figure that out."

Dr. Zelman, meanwhile, had taken a couple of rather aged-looking tomes over to the central table. He pored through them, absently twirling the waxed ends of his moustache and flipping back and forth as if searching the contents. After a few minutes, O'Neill strolled casually into the room, looked around for a moment, and addressed Dr. May directly. "Oi, now - that dumbwaiter o' yers that ain't a true dumbwaiter... where's it off to, then?"

[Deepcrush]

Joseph Webb sat upon his idle horse, a giant of a man with his bright Indian eyes glaring up the road at the house to which he was told to watch. He suspected the people he was to watch over were no doubt inside, dodging this deluge that he and his partners were sitting in. The rain was beating off his stetson and pouring just over his lit cigarette and down across his duster. His normally dark brown clothing having turned black by the rain and dark of night. Joseph had to be careful to keep his hat tilted enough to keep the rain of his smoke and to keep the light of his smoke covered from the view of the house. "So this here is where the magic starts." Speaking to no one but loud enough for his partners to hear. "A bunch of wide eyed city folk with dreams of greatness."

"Easy on them little brother. We don't really know what kinds of folks these people are. Not until we've shared words with them." Cyrus Webb, the broadly built Scot-American who called Joseph his brother in law. "These people were chosen for a reason."

Joseph scoffed the remark. "White men like to choose by coin and jewels as much as they do for a strong back and stout mind." Tapping his hip, Joseph nodded to the house. "I much rather put my trust to God and my bullets before I lean on their judgments." Lighting a fresh cigarette Joseph shook his head at the situation. "Its a dark rainy night and I'm stuck here."

Cyrus laughed lightly at Joseph while Hanz Gunther, the last member of the party, sat silently upon his horse. The grey toothed stetson and black duster lined with barbed chain a sharp contrast to his partners. A cigar turned in his mouth as he eyed the house with a face that gave no sign of emotion and his fingers itched the fresh scalp in his pocket. The thought of his mission here rolling over and over in his mind. Either they will serve their purpose well, or we will kill them all. That is HER WILL.

[Lighthawk]

Having skimmed and sorted her collection of books, Silvia was just getting started into really reading Studies of the Indians of the Miskatonic Valley when Claude dropped himself into the chair opposite her. He didn't speak, and she didn't look up, not until she had finished her page, marked the spot, and closed the book.

Virtually the instant the pages snapped shut, Claude said, "Not much to go on here, I'm going to have to make a trip into town."

Silvia nodded. "You'll be taking Daryl with you?"

"He...could be useful," Claude hedged. "But I'm not sure if leaving you..."

Silvia waved off the rest of his sentence. "I'll be fine, I think I can remember how to take care of myself," she told him with a small grin. Claude grunted in reply, and stared off across the library. Silvia had her book back open and was about to pick up where she left off, when she suddenly seemed to notice he was still there.

"Was there something else?" she inquired.

"Hmm? Oh, no just...waiting," Claude told her.

"Waiting? For what?"

Claude nodded with his chin, and Silvia glanced over to see Charles discussing something with Ibrahim.

"Just waiting for the pompous ass to finish, less I insult his tender sensitivities again by eavesdropping on his oh so secretive conversations." Claude finished with a roll of his eyes.

Silvia snorted in amusement. "Aw, my poor big grump, did he refuse to be your friend?" Claude glared, sternly, but Silvia only smiled more brightly and returned her attention to her book, leaving Claude to direct his ire out at the room at large while he waited for the opportunity to snag Ibrahim again.

[Tsukiyumi]

September 21, 1895, 11:13 PM EST

Fiorina found an interesting looking tome in the bookshelf, thumbed through it, and couldn't make any sense of it, "'Night, all. it is growing quite late, and I'd like to start early in town with the leads Doctor May has. She curtsied, and left the library as everyone bade goodnight.

Nathan grabbed the book after she replaced it on the shelf, and began flipping through it. Isabel also pulled a book from the shelves, and skimmed through lightly, "I believe fatigue is taking its toll on me as well. Nathan, shall we retire?"

He looked up, nodded, and replaced the two, before following Isabel to their room.

Willem noticed a frustrated look on detective Wessex's face, and moved to speak with him as he finished interviewing the manservant, Ibrahim.

[Mikey]

Zelman bent over the desk which Robert occupied, their discussion punctuated by their pointing to certain entries and nodding. Just as Charles was wrapping up with Ibrahim, Robert called him over - the timing being a complete accident, as Robert hadn't looked up from the day-books and notes on the desk in at least 15 minutes. Zelman began to point something out to Charles, who proceeded to transcribe in his notebook. Willem made as if to approach the detective, who stiffened as Claude and Silvia conferred. Charles deliberately put away his notebook, turned, and marched up to the couple.

Charles nodded stiffly to Silvia and said, "Please excuse the necessity of this." He turned toward Claude, took a step forward so as to be nose to nose with the man, and said quietly, "Listen to me, Adams - while we are both guests in our host's home, and especially in the company of ladies, I do not expect your prior poor manners to be followed by the even poorer manners of attempting to talk about me behind my back. As an aside, if you're going to to talk clandestinely, try to do it more quietly. Now, I will expect better from you in the future. If you have an issue with this, we can settle it as gentlemen... or I can call this whole thing 'police business' and have you held for interfering until such time as I see fit." He turned and started to walk away, then said over his shoulder, "You purport to have some investigative skill. If that's true - and if you remain so interested in my doings - I have a number of leads to follow in the morning. No, not first thing - I fully expect that our Ibrahim will lay out a more-than-passable breakfast." He turned back and said, "Doctor?"

Zelman turned from the desk, coughed, and said, "Yes, well, I suppose I - and Robert, if he can tear himself away from these hides - will look up this Mr. Hart tomorrow." Charles nodded, but looked curiously at Klein as he did so. At the same time, O'Neill walked into the room and rather forwardly addressed Dr. May directly.

"Here now, doctor," O'Neill piped, "I'm trying to figure this dumbwaiter o' yers, that doen' go through the kitchen. The upstairs door's been plastered over, and I mean to go through and follow where it goes."

"The dumbwaiter shaft of my house is really of no concern to this investigation, Master O'Neill," May replied haughtily.

"In point of fact, doctor, Ibrahim indicates that no tracks or traces were left on the grounds by Cassandra's abductors," Charles broke in. "An alternative point of entry may bear exploration."

"I assure you," May answered rather shortly, "that the structure of my dumbwaiter is of concern only to the machinists and workmen who service the generators and furnace."

"Very well," Charles said. "Perhaps, though, in light of Ibrahim's description, you might have Master O'Neill shown to the root cellar, wine store, or basement."

[Uzume]

Cookie had been sitting back in one of the high-backed leather chairs in the library, listening to the many conversations in the room. He noticed the young woman sitting at the desk, reading. A book she’d brought down from the shelves had caught his eye. Just as he stood, Maude entered the room, “Doctor May,” she said, acknowledging the other guests with nods, “I do thank you for your hospitality. I shall be retiring for the evening, for there is much to do in the morning.”

Cookie turned to Maude, “Mrs. Brewster, I noticed you have your smoking pouch with you. Would you care to join me for a smoke and a whiskey before you retire?”

She replied, “Most certainly. That’s just what I need.”

Cookie smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Just one moment, I’ll be right back.”
He seemed to cross the large room in three great strides, grabbing one of the tomes, On Alchemy, “I’d like to read this, since no one else seems to be interested in it. Good night, all!”

He turned back to Maude, and headed toward the stairs for a smoke and a nightcap.