Play@YSDC

"Will do," says Jones. He ducks back inside to put out the call, putting his revolver back in its holster now that the immediate danger has passed.

Getting out of his office with a napkin tucked to his collar, Barrington shuffles down the stairs to see the commotion and Jones making a call in the foyer. "What in the seven hoards are happening?" He rips the napkin away and stuffs it away in his front pocket.

His light struck eyes finds the body on the floor. "Is he ... " Barrington reaches the landing and straightens his neck, looking at Jones to explain the ruckus.


OOC: Half a year has gone. My browser has placed my gaming sites at the bottom load order. Guess it´s time to wake up. Me and Barrington both...

"Chap was shot in the back as he walked in, guv'nor," reports Jones. "The constables outside said it was a black Plymouth, no plates, westbound. I'm getting the call out on it."

It doesn't take Jones too long to tell despatch and then he's ready to take a look at the scene. A few uniformed police officers are already getting those in the lobby to keep a wide berth from the body as well as interviewing the witnesses. Another detective has picked up the briefcase (without gloves) and unlatched it. The briefcase seems to contain a thick sheaf of files showing purchase orders and other information. "Seems to be about an Arab," says the detective mildly. "Why would anyone shoot a man in the back over that?"

"Could have something to do with the Egyptian Murders," suggests Jones, slipping on his gloves. "They've killed dozens already, so I doubt they'd hesitate at one more to keep someone from giving us evidence. Let me take a look at that." He takes the briefcase and looks carefully through the papers within it.

"Most certainly so, we are surely adding another soul to the murders." He looks at the dead informant. "Rather a far cry from the upstairs, this chap. Never the less, I was about to leave for Gavigan´s country estate when I decided to look in to the transcripts concerning our Americans. They are sent away, right?" He brushes a scones crumb from his mustache. "Why don´t you accompany me, you´re the better driver, after all? And... in case you delayed sending Ms Downing off, we´d better bring her and her servant with us. Then I can personally see that they are placed on the next ship to New York." He gives Jones a sly look.

"Ah, of course, boss," says Jones. "I'm no better a driver than you are, but I'd be glad to drive. Miss Downing and her manservant are here in one of the waiting rooms. We had been planning to arrange a meeting with their companions who were involved in the incident this evening at the Blue Pyramid. It sounds like they've uncovered some pertinent information in their own investigation of these matters - and captured one of the men involved. We may want to have that meeting first before we go visit Mr. Gavigan, so that we're armed with as much knowledge as we can be. Naturally it will be up to Miss Downing if she wishes to accompany us. Mr. Gavigan does know her, and it may not be the best idea to alert him to the fact that she has spoken to us, in case he is the author of that note."

Jones nods. "He may be carrying identification," he says as he looks through the documents. "Knowing who the man was may go a long way to unraveling the mystery."

One of the police officers riffles through the mans pockets, turning up nothing. The dead man doesn't so much as have any loose change.

The papers seem to concern Tewfik's Spice Shop, at least thus far.

"My hunch seems to be right," says Jones. "These papers pertain to Tewfik's Spice Shop - the one that mysteriously burned down this evening."

"Good, now we might know what kind of business Tewfik was up to. Against all odds-" Inside his office, he spreads the documents on his desk putting away the kettle and scones. He sorts them regarding type of document and names or symbols on signatures. If they are dated he tries to create a timeline.

The documents seem to contain a list of receipts and deliveries linking Tewfik's Spice Shop and the raided warehouse that had contained guns, ammunition, and opiates, among other things. There's a few photographs of Tewfik with the deceased killers who had attacked the British Library in the Blue Pyramid Club in Soho, grainy and poor quality photograph through the window of a fellow cutting off a man's hand with a machete in what appears to be the Soho nightclub office, a bloodstained letter to the police from someone who had been extorted by Tewfik, a list of names of known drug dealers, a description of how such dealers could purchase drugs from Tewfik who smuggled them in with his spices, and connections between Tewfik and some sort of white slavery trade. Most of the information here is circumstantial. Letters whose handwriting could be matched to some of the deceased but could also be forged. Photographs that link Tewfik to the killers but not to the killings. Still it would be enough to convict the man, especially considering the current sentiments surrounding the murders that would only intensify the following morning when that maid's death hits the newspapers. It was one thing when the killers targeted the poor and lower middle class. It was a whole other thing when something like this occured in a trusted hotel frequented by the very rich.

It will take quite a bit of time to sort through it all and construct a timeline. All night, in fact.

"There's another consideration, boss," says Jones, looking over the documents. "Miss Downing cannot return to New York, for she would be in just as great danger there. There were murders there too, possibly related to the ones here. There was an incident in which a number of coppers were killed. One reason she left New York was to get away from that. Also, if we're to go up to Gavigan's estate out in the country, it might be wise to have some backup in tow - not close enough to be seen, but close enough to hear a whistle. If Gavigan truly is the Moriarty behind all this, we don't know how much help he'll have on his home turf."

"I see." Barrington ponders. "We might scramble some bodies to accompany us in a protective detail. Must come up with a reason to have them in tow, though." He leafs through the papers on the desk. "This will take too long to get any sense to." He gets up and draws up an order for protective custody of the two Americans. Six uniforms and three cars for transport and relocation of the informants in the Egyptian killings. He signs with his name and asks Jones to second that. "Make sure the men are well equipped for the task. We don´t want to run in there with our hands up our rears and nothing to show if we meet the resistance we could, should there be any truth to the allegations." He turns at the door, looking at some of the officers outside. "And I need someone to make heads or tails out of those papers. We´re off on a trail. A relocation thing." He waves with the newly drawn order and or requisition for men and vehicles, as if they are explanation enough to what he just said.
"Jones!"

"Right away, guv'nor!" says Jones, taking the order and arranging to make everything happen.

Detective Hayes approaches Jones as he quickly hands out orders. "Superintendant Devereaux wishes to speak to you and Inspector Barrington regarding these orders. Something about where the protective custody detail will be taking the witnesses. Final destination and all that."

"Shall we talk to the witnesses first and find out where they wish to go?" Jones asks Barrington.

"Yes, we´ll have to stop by at the Super´s after that. Let´s find your witnesses shall we?" Barrington makes a chivalrous gesture at Jones for him to lead the way. To Hayes, Barrington says, "We´ll be back presently."

Elizabeth and Johnny are currently sitting in one of the waiting rooms, looking terribly bored. Well, Elizabeth looks bored. Johnny appears to be napping on his chair. When they enter, Elizabeth rises to her feet, hands clasped together nervously, while Johnny's eyes open slightly to take them in. Despite his seemingly laidback posture, he seems quite tense and ready for action.