Act III(b): 'The Cerebral Activities Society'

[DrPeterson]

Wellington raises an amused eyebrow and claps his hands together.

"Indeed, Klevendon, hard wages for hard labour! A guinea should set these fellows to work straight away. Let us away to Mr Mattison, shall we?"

He tips his hat at the three men and turns on his heels towards the office.

[Tabs]

Klevendon wonders if he can claim for expenses from Prof. Hawthorne at the museum. He hands over a guinea, and then follows on Wellington's heels. "I say, old man, I'm not made of money you know!"

[Priest]

Having accepted the guinea the three set to the task of removing the sewer cover.

Through the main doors of the 'Daily Speaker' you enter a finely furnished and supplied entrance hall and a bespectacled young man with an infectious smile and wild hair, rises from a small desk marked Enquiries'. Some yards behind him a frosted glass panneled door marked 'Editor' in gold script would appear to be the repose of the gentleman you seek Mr Mattison. Furthermore the partialy open door would seem to indicate a presence within.
"May I assist you, sirs?" says the enquiries clerk in a cheerfull singsong voice.

[DrPeterson]

Indeed you may, young man. Mr. Klevendon and myself would like to have a little chat with Mr. Mattison.

Wellington starts removing his gloves, indicating that he has no intention of leaving soon.

[Priest]

With a polite bob of his head, and a equally polite request to wait a moment, the lad swiftly disapears behind the glass panneled door. For a few moments low voices can be heard murmuring beyond, the suddenly one of the voices rises in volume to a belicose roar, "Cards! Names! Do your work properly sir, or by God you'll find yourself begging on the streets!"

Moments later the door opens and a shamefaced clerk waves you in, "Mr Mattison will see you now sirs"

Inside a well appointed room, shelves overflowing with box files, a rather portly gentleman in a smart but overly fussy crimson vest, rises from a stuffed leather chair behind a much cluttered desk. He leans forward and extends a pudgy yet immaculately manicured hand, "Oswald Mattison editor, Mr's...? How may I assist you sirs?" He says in a low obsequious manner.

As he speaks you can smell the peculiar odour of cheap Gin on his breath.

[Tabs]

"Mr. Arthur Klevendon, antiquarian," says he, shaking Mattison's hand, "and this gentleman is the renowned Consulting Detective Horatio Wellington."

[Priest]

"Ah, good day Mr Klevendon and you Mr Wellington." Mattison slumps back in his seat, which creaks alarmingly. He indicates a pair of chairs close by, "Please be seated gentlemen"

Having dispensed with the expected formalities, he glances at Wellington, a faint questioning look clouds his face, "Your reputation sir precedes you. I have long admired your work especially the case of the missing Henderson girl"

He pauses, opens a drawer in his desk and produces three glasses and a partialy empty bottle of clear liquid, "Can I offer you a glass of Gin?" Without awaiting answer he pours three large measures, "Now gentlemen, how pray tell may I assist you?"

[DrPeterson]

Wellington nods at the mention of the Henderson case and takes the gin, sniffing it appreciatively before tasting.


We would like to hear from you what happened during the entire rat business, Mr. Mattison.

[Priest]

Previously Wellington said:   We would like to hear from you what happened during the entire rat business, Mr. Mattison.

OOC:   Allthough the perfumed odour of the liquid marks it as Gin, from the taste it is indeed a most cheap label. Not the type a Gentleman would keep in his drinks cabinet, more of the quality one would usualy refer to as 'Mother's ruin' and find served at such establishments as 'The Ten Bells'.

In return Mattison raises his glass in a polite gesture to you both and swiftly tosses the fiery liquid down his throat. Instantly, at a most remakable speed, he refills his glass and sets it before him.

"I'm afraid that I cannot add much to the report by our lead reporter, Klebbs, as I was engaged in important duties within this very room"

From the way his face reddens slightly, you imagine those duties involved keeping the door locked so as to restict any entry from the rodent plague that may have been within the building.

He adds after swiftly swallowing the new measure of Gin, an action that helps him regain his composure, "It seemed that the sudden explosion of vermin from the sewer below caused bedlam amongst our fellow newspapermen with more delicate sensibilities" He laughs, the Gin no doubt adding to his show of bravado.

"If you gentlemen would care to ask questions of the reporter, I shall summon him forthwith. In the mean time another Gin sirs?"

[Tabs]

"Uh, no, no thanks--er--my doctor says that I must not drink more than one glass after lunch," apologises Klevendon. "Please, summon Mr. Klebbs."

[Priest]

Previously Klevendon said:   "Uh, no, no thanks--er--my doctor says that I must not drink more than one glass after lunch," "Please, summon Mr. Klebbs."

Mattison smiles and rises, with some difficulty, to his feet, "As you wish"

Crosing to the door he opens it and shouts, "Perkins, go and fetch Mr Klebbs, tell him that two gentlemen would care to speak with him." He adds after a second or two, "Now Mr Perkins, now sir, now if you please"

In a short time a poorly dressed gentleman enters the room. Mattison, who has returned to his chair, desk and the rapidly diminishing bottle of Gin, nods, superiorly to the newcomer, "Ah Klebbs, these fine gentlemen Mr Wellington and Mr Klevendon would like to ask you some questions concerning the recent rodent problem"

From the way he maintains possesion of his chair it appears that Mattison has decided to stay and hear the conversation.

Klebbs looks from his red faced, Gin sodden editor towards the two of you, "It would seem that the recent vermin infestation has become something of notoriety, for yours is the latest enquiry that I have had this very hour, Though I must add that the previous enquirist was far prettier that either of you" he smiles, "However not so her companion"

[DrPeterson]

Wellington raises an eyebrow and manages the faintest of smiles.

I see, you must be delighted to have such interest in your tale, Mr Klebbs, I hope Mr Mattison has recognised the importance of such notoriety for his newspaper in an astute and most rewarding manner.

Horatio nods at the editor to petition his agreement and then carries on.


Would you be so kind as to share with us your tale once more?

[Priest]

Previously Wellington said:   "I see, you must be delighted to have such interest in your tale, Mr Klebbs, I hope Mr Mattison has recognised the importance of such notoriety for his newspaper in an astute and most rewarding manner. Would you be so kind as to share with us your tale once more?"

The reporter, Klebs, gives you a look that says "As if!", before, with hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets, he begins.

"Well sirs, there is, as I told the young lady, little to add to my article about the recent rodent invasion. To misquote a famous writer, 'They came, they bit, they scarpered'." he pauses half starts to laugh at his own wit, then thinks better of it and continues, "I spoke to a Harold Watkins from the Water and Sewerage Authority, but got no usefull reason as to the behaviour of the rats. He attempted to blame recent tidal abnormalities in the old river but it was obvious that he was but attempting to confuscate the issue. He did, however, supply me with the name of the local sewer man Norman Smalls. But so far my attempts to contact the individual have gone without success. I believe that I have an address for Mr Smalls somewhere in my files and could be prevailed upon to find it" It is obvious what he is implying without being crass enough to mention money.

Mattison, whose face seems to have developed a white, parsomonious cast since your 'reward' comment, favours Klebbs with a look that could shrivel a spiders web, "Thank you Klebbs you may leave us now, unless, of course the gentlemen have other questions, or you feel that you have other information relevant to this case."

[DrPeterson]

I believe I shall accompany Mr Klebbs to his work space.
Mr Mattison, I thank you for your time. I'm sure Mr. Klevendon has a few further questions for you, if you'd be so obliging.


Wellington gets up out of his seat and joins Klebbs.

[Tabs]

"Yes, Mr. Mattison, 'further questions,'" says Klevendon, desperately trying to think up something to ask. "Do you know the identity of the pretty lady and ugly man? We--Mr. Wellington and myself--are working on a mysterious case--all information may be of use--the Daily Speaker will be the first organ to hear about our results, of course."

[Priest]

Previously Klevendon said:   "Yes, Mr. Mattison, 'further questions', Do you know the identity of the pretty lady and ugly man? We--Mr. Wellington and myself--are working on a mysterious case--all information may be of use--the Daily Speaker will be the first organ to hear about our results, of course."

Having stood as Wellington exited the room, Mattison slumps back into his chair, it creaks alarmingly, "Another Mr Klevendon?" he indicates the half empty bottle, "No? Well, if you'll excuse me" He helps himself to another 'generous' measure.

"The identities of the lady and the man?...I honestly have no idea, I presume they were asking for Klebbs directly...Now as to this 'mysterious case'" Having seen off the Gin he turns towards you a gleam of interest in his eyes, "Mysterious, how?"

[Tabs]

"Well--the rats, for a start," says a floundering Klevendon. Then it occurs to him that Mattison may know a lot about the goings on in town. "Maybe you can assist us, Mr. Mattison, what do you know about Lord Carrington-Fforbes and the Cerebral Activities Society?"

[Priest]

Previously Klevendon said:   "Maybe you can assist us, Mr. Mattison, what do you know about Lord Carrington-Fforbes and the Cerebral Activities Society?"

Mattison sinks back in his chair, his feature now displaying a similarity to a hound who has just scented its quarry, "I know of a Lord Carrington-Fforbes the architect, but of this ...'Cerebral Activities Society', nothing. Why do you ask? Is there some connection between his Lordship, this society and the recent rodent outrage?"

Without you having noticed he has produced a ring notebook and a silver mounted pencil and has begun to take notes.

"Tell me more, do you perceive a threat to the Empire, nay to her Majesty herself? And is Lord Carrington-Fforbes involved in some fashion with this plot? And does this plot originate with the Russians or the anarchists?"

[Tabs]

Klevendon holds up both hands in submission. "Mr. Mattison, the reporter in you is evident. I asked some questions, and if you don't know the answers--well--I think is not time for me to enlighten you!"

[Priest]

Previously Klevendon said:   "Mr. Mattison, the reporter in you is evident. I asked some questions, and if you don't know the answers--well--I think is not time for me to enlighten you!"

Mattison glances up from the notepad where he has been scribbling fiercely. He peers towards you in a semi awareness as if ony partialy aware of your presence, "Eh?...Oh yes...Absolutely my dear sir"

Then bending his head to his notes he dismisses you, "Please be so kind as to close the door as you leave. I have work to do and have no need of further disturbance. Good day Mr Klevendon"