Act IV: 'Something Awful'

[Priest]

Act IV: 'Something Awful'

Once more the curtains open on a new scene, in fact a new day – Wednesday May 25th. At the small but excellently furnished lodgings in Baker Street, the opposite end and opposite side of the road from his more famous colleague Holmes.

Wellington’s morning procedure is interrupted by a knock at his door. Outside stands his housekeeper, Mrs McCandlle,
And a rather soggy looking Klebbs. From his appearance you deduce that it is raining again.

Mrs McCandlle fusses in that ‘housekeeperish’ manner. Beneath one brawny arm she carries copies of several of this morning’s newspapers, including one whose lurid headlines scream at you.

[Tabs]

OOC:   Ahem! Klevendon, not Klebbs.

"Have you seen the front page, sir!" says an excitable Klevendon, thrusting the newspaper under Wellington's nose, "that ridiculous Mattison has put two and two together, made five, and has written about the 'Cosmist League'--nothing to do with our visit at all!"--Klevendon adds tamely--"Well, I think so . . . .

"Note: 'the brightest and most scientific minds of the century is investigating,'" adds Klevendon, smiling mischievously, "I presume that doesn't refer to me."

[DrPeterson]

Wellington smiles as he scans the article.

"It would appear that despite his lacking skills as an editor, the man is an excellent judge of character."

He produces a pipe from his dressing gown pocket and proceeds to stuff it.

"Klevendon, you look positively watered down. Would you care for some breakfast or would you prefer a pipe by the fireplace? Mrs. McCandlle's cooking can restore to the most exhausted of men to their stout selves."

[Priest]

Halting in her cushion plumping duties at the mention of breakfast, Mrs McCandlles regards the rain dampened figure of Mr Klevendon with a dour look of disaproval, "Would ye be wanting a bowl of porridge? My husband the late Mr McCandlles used to swear to the spirit restorative powers of a fine bowl of oatmeal. Made with water and flavoured with salt you ken?"

OOC:   Apolgies my dear Mr Klevendon for mixing you with that reporter chappie

[carnage_lee]

Nellie wakes rather later than she intended and has to hurry to get ready. Making sure she has her notebook and all the notes she made the previous evening she leaves her home and hails a hansom heading for The Ritz.

[Tabs]

"Uh, no, thank you, Mrs. Mcandlles," says Klevendon; "just tea . . . piping hot, if you please."

As an aside to Wellington: "I wonder what the no doubt worthy husband died of?" he continues loudly, "A pipe!" and stands beside the fire, lifting his coattails and roasting his backside. "Have you any news--the urchin--Miss Bly?"

[carnage_lee]

OOC:   Ohh have I got the wrong end of the stick? I thought it'd been suggested to meet at the Ritz for breakfast...

[Priest]

OOC:   Panic ye not. I think they intend to be at the Ritz for eight, so I'm assuming that Klevendon has called on Wellington on their way.

[DrPeterson]

"I have not been so fortunate as to receive tidings from Miss Bly, but my street contacts proved very valuable indeed. You will of course forgive me if I save up what I learned until we meet our companions? I find repeating myself to be so tedious."


Wellington moves through his apartment, gathering his things for the day.

[Tabs]

"Of course, sir!" says Klevendon. "To the Ritz?"

[Priest]

Your timing is, of course, impecable, as the clock in the foyer of the Ritz is striking the sixth chime of eight you have arrived. As one would expect you are all impecably attired with outer clothing suiltable for the weather.

With all the pomp, formality and service that one would expect from such a prestige establishment, you are quickly shown to a table for four and directed, most diligently, towards the menu.

Three of you are present Roxborough, it appears, is somewhat tardy. No doubt delayed by a rather winsome pie or such.

[Tabs]

"I trust you had an interesting evening, Miss Bly?" asks Klevendon.

[DrPeterson]

Before they left his apartment, Klevendon clearly saw Wellington slipping his pistol into his coat pocket.


Once they've arrived at the Ritz, Wellington orders a strong Oolong and brandy and reclines in his chair, his chin resting upon his chest as he seems to drift between sleeping and waking, clearly lost in thought.

[carnage_lee]

Nellie smiles as she walks into the dining room, the smells of bacon, eggs and the other necessities of a proper breakfast. Nellie approaches the table where Wellington and Klevendon are already being seated, noting the absence of Roxborough and thinking to herself that they had better tuck in before their fellow investigator laid waste to the buffet. Taking off her gloves and sitting, with a nod of thanks to the attentive waiter Nellie asks for another pot of breakfast tea to be brought along.

"I spent the evening making use of the clipping service to which I subscribe. I spent two hours gathering facts on our number one suspect but more of that later..." Nellie looks around the dining room again "No sign of Richard?" she asks frowning at the glass of spirits in Wellington's hand. "I wouldn't expect him to be late, well not when there was food to be had."

[Papa Gateau]

"Good morning Nellie, gentlemen" Roxborough takes a seat at the table, eyeing everyones plates "I'm not too late I see, apologies for my slight tardiness"

[DrPeterson]

Wellington nurses his brandy, barely noticing Roxborough's arrival. You're not sure if the man is dead, catatonic or a combination of the two.

[Papa Gateau]

Wellington dear boy! Feeling a little under the weather are we? A medicinal libation at this time of the day eh?

Care to share with us what's furrowing your brow?

[Tabs]

"The 'Great Man' is lost in thought," says Klevendon of Wellington. He tries a mouthful of black pudding, but grimaces and spits the blood into a napkin. "What an unsavoury sausage!

"Good morning, Mr. Roxborough.

"Tell us more, Miss Bly."

[Papa Gateau]

Roxborough looks aghast as Klevendon spits out his sausage.

Roxbourough thinking:   MY GOOD LORD! UNSAVOURY! UNSAVOURY! The man's a bloody heathen, an uncultured native! Dismissing one of the finest delicacies known to man as UNSAVOURY! GOOD LORD! I may just have to join Wellington in a brandy!

Roxborough glowers at Klevendon, muttering something unintelligible as he chews a mouthful of black-pudding.

[carnage_lee]

Nellie does her best to ignore Klevendon's evident dislike of black pudding. After finisher her own mouthful of delicious bacon starts to impart what she had learned the previous evening.

"Considering our suspicions and the concerns that you expressed I re-considered my plans so instead I spent the evening at a clipping-service to which I subscribe. I found nothing that seems at all suspicious or indicative of any untoward intent; no scandalous gossip, business or otherwise. The Highbury Sewerage Company seems to be above board, quite a sound investment according to their accounts." Nellie sips her tea and takes a few more mouthfuls of her breakfast, noting how delicious the devilled kidneys are. "I also found out that Carrington-Fforbes has been the chairman of the Cerebral Activities Club since August of '83 following the death of Professor Artenius Reobotham. Nothing I learned seems to suggest that he could be involved."

Nellie sets to devouring her plate while her companions digest her words.