Play@YSDC

Although she had grudgingly accepted the offer from Millicent, the writer from the club, Amanda didn't feel comfortable outside her own space and rose early. She gathered her things and quietly set off into the city, headed for King's College.

The large gothic edifice of Maughan Library was not somewhere she frequented and she fortified herself at a small student coffee shop who brewed aromatic coffee from far away shores. It piqued the imagination of Amanda who romanticised about distant lands and strange and exciting people. She was lost in her breakfast reverie for a while before she got down to the matter at hand. She had promised the detective to find out what she could, and she would try no matter what...

Amanda Somerville wraps her overcoat tighter around herself to ward off the chill morning air. A college campus is familiar territory for her, even if it is a different campus. However, she is confident that she can find her way around. I feel so bad for poor Mr. Hornely, she thinks. I've got to do what I can to bring his killer to justice. And besides, I won't feel safe until he's caught. Of course, by sticking my neck out and asking about the book I could be putting myself into danger... She trembles briefly, then recovers. I've got to try. I can't let fear rule my life. Straightening up, she makes her way across campus in search of the Literature Department and Professor Blexham.

The literature department stands in an annex of the library and sprawls across three floors. It is quiet so early in the morning, but asking around the few people she encounters, she easily finds directions to the faculty offices of the department.

The door to Blexham's office is wooden with a large pane of frosted glass set in the upper centre. Gold leaf characters spell out the occupant, they proclaim: 'Dr. H. Blexham Phd, Literature & Humanities'.

Detecting movement inside, Amanda pauses to consider her options...

Amanda's first instinct is to knock on the door, but she hesitates. I don't normally eavesdrop, she thinks, but I might learn something important. I can always knock later. She peers through the pane of frosted glass and listens closely in effort to hear what is going on on the other side.

Amanda can see a figure moving around the room; opening filing cabinets (she can tell by the metallic sound), rustling papers, opening drawers and the like. The figure doesn't seem to be moving particularly urgently or stealthily though...

Amanda stands for a moment, paralyzed with fear, every instinct screaming at her. He's searching for something, she thinks, but I'd think Professor Blexham would know where it is. My God! What if that's the killer in there, looking for a copy of the book? What if the professor is lying dead in there right this second?!

OOC,Can I roll Sense Trouble, or can I only roll that if you prompt me to do so?

Goosebumps run up and down Amanda's back.

Amanda is worried something seems off but she cannot place her finger on exactly what it is. The person in the office doesn't appear to be tossing the room, like she would expect a criminal too. The silhouetted searching in the office continues as she watches.

The phone inside the office suddenly rings, startling Amanda and she hears a muttered curse then the receiver being picked up. Listening carefully she hears half a muffled conversation...

"...This is he." A pause then; "The police, what? Really the Yard, well I could come by this afternoon? No? Later on this morning then say 11?" The receiver clicks back down into place and another curse before the rummaging resumes.

Either that really is Profesor Blexham and he's rude, uncouth, and loses things in his own office, thinks Amanda, or he's impersonating him to find something. If I knocked on his door, he'd be more likely to pretend to be Blexham than to murder me. I'd like to get a look at him, but I don't want him to see me. I wish I knew what the bloke is supposed to look like. I'd wager that was Detective Grimes on the phone just now. She checks her watch to see what time it is and looks up and down the hall to see if anyone else is around.

Glancing at her watch Amanda notes the time is a quarter to eight in the morning and there is no-one in sight as yet, she has only seen sporadic people thus far and here in the in the Literature faculty it was practically deserted.

Amanda continues to watch the man in Blexham's office, ready to press herself against the wall beside the door if he approaches it, hoping that he won't see her as he's leaving. She is curious to see if he finds what he's seeking.

Amanda estimates that around ten minutes elapses before her hand is forced. The sounds in the office seem to reach a crescendo of vexation and with a final slam of a filing cabinet drawer the door to the office is pulled open.

It almost startles the young student...Almost, she is quick to turn aside slightly inspecting a nearby noticeboard of paper grades.

From the door blunders a large man, sweating somewhat and mopping at his brow with a handkerchief. He looks annoyed and hot, clearly he has not found what he was searching for in the office. Catching a glimpse of the office behind, Amanda notes that its has not been 'turned over' like she supposed a burglar would do. Indeed the dusty suit and general appearance of the man practically scream academia rather than criminality. But one could never be too careful...

Amanda surreptitiously watches the man while pretending not to, keen to see if he is leaving the office and, if so, which way he will go in the hopes of following him without him noticing her.

He puffs his way down the corridor to the left calling out "Eileen, Eileen? Are you in yet, bother it! I can't find those damn assessment papers! Eileen?" he leaves the door open...

I suppose he really is who he says he is, thinks Amanda. That doesn't necessarily mean he's on the up and up, of course. The temptation to snoop around in Blexham's office while he's otherwise occupied proves too strong, and Amanda slips quietly through the open door.

Slipping inside, Amanda finds herself in a musty smelling office. Dust motes whirl in the air catching the thin morning sunlight slanting in through a window half covered in stacks of papers and piles of books.

There doesn't seem to be many available spaces left to stack things on, no wonder the professor was having difficulty locating a particular set of papers - it would take the work of half a dozen post-graduate students several weeks to sort the mess out. No doubt the professor claimed to know exactly where everything was though!

The office seems innocent enough, but who knows what lurks below the surface of academia...

Amanda tiptoes over to the desk and begins quietly looking through the drawers, always listening for any sign of someone approaching out in the hall.

Rifling through the drawers she doesn't find anything particularly interesting or incriminating, just the usual one would expect to find in a professors drawer: Stationary, papers, mint humbugs, a folded copy of the Times with the crossword part completed. Amanda sighs heavily, frustrated about her lack of success, but then catches the sound of the professor's voice in the distance...

Amanda swiftly and quietly shuts the drawers and slips back out into the hall.

Just in time Amanda makes the hall as the puffing professor comes waddling a high speeds down the corridor. He notes her and smiles a thin smile, "can I help you miss? Were you waiting for me?"

"Yes, Professor, if you're not too busy," says Amanda, smiling back with more sincerity. "We have a mutual acquaintance: Hector Hornley."

"Yes, yes Mister Hornley is one of my more dedicated students. Perhaps you'll step into my office for a moment, I must confessed that I find myself somewhat vexed this morning. I had come in early and...well you don't need to...come in, come in." The fifty, or so, year old professor is jovial and charming. His deep voice is the kind that Amanda might expect coming out of a radio reading the news, melodious and comforting.

As he speaks he comes across as a much younger man, Amanda puts this down to his natural enthusiam. He shuffles some papers from a spare chair and waves the young woman to sit down. "What can I do to help you miss?"

"Thank you," says Amanda, taking the proffered seat. "Mr. Hornley was reading this book of poetry that you had told him about...what was it called again?"

The Professor takes a seat and steeples his fingers together thinking for a moment..."Oh, yes, yes. I mentioned an obscure English writer to Hector a few months ago. Lucian Vawdrey, died eighteen-seventy or so. He was the only child of a wealthy landowner, and managed to squander his inheritance over his lifetime. Never did a day’s work in his life, apart from writing two books of poetry."

"I used to know 'A Journey Into Lonely Places' quite well. When I was an undergraduate, some friends and I used to hold contents. You start reading a section out loud, and try to get as far as you can before you can no longer contain your mirth. Absolutely abominable, turgid, ludicrous writing. There should be a copy in the library, I urge you not to read it my dear for the sake of your sanity."

"The other book, though, 'The Invisible Path' was the title. A very strange book. His style was very different, not more mature, just as poor and laboured, but there was something interesting about it. I read parts of it, and slept poorly that night. It had no artistic merit, mind you, but it… well, even a penny-dreadful tale of blood and gore can sow nightmares, I suppose."

"Hector, though, he seems to think there was something in it. When I saw him last week, he said something about rescuing Vawdrey from obscurity." He pauses for a moment, "Are you a friend of Hector's, he didn't mention someone as charming as you, I'd have remembered. I didn't catch your name my dear?"

Amanda smiles again. "You're too kind, Professor," she says. "My name is Amanda Somerville. I'm Mr. Hornley's neighbour, but we keep different hours, so we don't often see each other. Does the library also have a copy of The Invisible Path?"

"The library? Well I assume so, whether it has more than one copy though I'm not sure and Hector has been fervently checking that book out. As far as I'm aware there are only a few copies that have survived the ravages of time, I'm sure if you were after a copy the British Musuem's collection should have one. The reading room there has the most extensive collection in the Empire." He smiles thinly, "A project you and Hector are working on perhaps? It would be nice to see him actually interact with someone else, he has been so introverted of late."

"Sadly, no," says Amanda, looking down. "You're right, he hasn't been very outgoing lately. It's a shame, he's always been such a nice and friendly fellow." She doesn't want to break the news of Hector's death to the professor. Not only does she want Grimes to judge his first reaction to hearing the news, but she doesn't have the heart to tell him. I wish I'd gotten to know Hector better, she thinks. I'd have gladly gone out with him, if only he'd asked me. "I suppose he's been spending all this time on his obsession with Vawdrey. But surely there must have been someone else who shared his interest, someone he'd have spent time with?"

The professor shakes his head "Hector is a fine student of good family. Very bright, very dedicated… I worried when he roomed with Fitzgerald, who’s a hellraiser and a cad, but in his studies he is very much the island of a man. He's studying Modern Literature and Journalism. I think he has his eye on becoming a critic, eventually."

"He is a voracious reader, spent all his first year evenings in the library. That’s where I met the boy and took him under my wing, so to speak. Academically, he's good, not especially exceptional, but good most definitely, and in the last few weeks his work has been slipping...I put it down to fatigue or illness. Hopefully he's getting some rest as we speak, unless Fitzgerald has had him out on the tiles all night long."

"Oh, Fitzgerald is a bounder all right!" says Amanda, knowing the man all too well. "I can't imagine Horace spending nights with him. I think he must be staying up late because of his work on Vawdrey. Has anyone tried to dissuade him from it?"

"No I don't believe anyone has tried to steer him clear of the studies, I don't think it was bordering on the unhealthy mind you. He is such an intense young man, I mentioned that he might be wasting his time, but he was convinced there was something more to it."

"Perhaps he was right, then," says Amanda. "Does Vawdrey have any living decsendants?"

"Goodness, I'd not really considered that to be honest. Genealogy is not really a passion of mine, I'm sure that you should be able to find that out in the records office of his local parish. His writing suggests he was a bitter bachelor though, if I were to guess." The professor begins to shift in his chair as though he wants to return to his search for his missing papers.

Then something occurs to him, "there might be something in the 'Home Counties families' by Twerpp; I think I have a copy...one moment." He jumps up and pours over the spines in a crammed bookcase, he retrieves a heavy volume and plonks it down on the desk with a thump.

"Yes, yes here is something that might help your curiosity. Vawdrey, according to this, was the scion of a declining family of landowners. He was very ill as a child, and never married. He self-published a book of poetry which was savaged by critics and roundly ignored by everyone. He locked himself away in his family mansion outside Oxford, and never emerged again except to publish a few copies of 'The Invisible Path'. He died in a mysterious fire in 1871." He looks pleased with himself, hoping his has impressed the young woman...

"Thank you, that is helpful," says Amanda with a smile. "What made the fire that claimed his life mysterious?"

"I'm sorry dear, as I said I'm no historian - I wouldn't know apart from it alludes to the mysterious circumstances here in the Twerpps. Now if there is nothing else I really should get back to my work?" He half-stands as a polite way to encourage his guest to leave...

"Thank you for your time, Professor," says Amanda, rising. "It was a pleasure meeting you." She exits the office and makes her way to the library, checking her watch to see how long she has before the rendezvous.

Realizing that Hector most likely had the college's only copy of the rare book The Invisible Path, which was probably the book that had been burned in the fire, Amanda goes outside and walks to the British Museum in Great Russell Street. They might not have let me check it out anyway, she thinks, seeing as I'm not a student there.

Amanda sets off at a brisk pace, she pauses on the half hour leisurely walk for a coffee and a light breakfast to fortify her for the travel to Oxford later in the day. The British museum comes into sight and Amanda walks to the Reading Room arriving there just before 10.30am...

OOC:   Please move to the Library thread Where Millicent and Sam have just settled down to conduct a bit of research. OR Please move to the [Scene III Interview in Bloomsbury - Grimes and Felix] thread as she bumps into Grimes and Felix on their way out of the reading room, to interview the last person to check out the Invisible Path from the British Museum.