It only takes a couple of hours to reach the University, and before long you are speaking to the head of the History Faculty, Professor Howard Potts, in a luxurious and well stocked study. As soon as you mention Sir William Brinton his face darkens slightly,
“His manner of departure was to say the least an inconvenience. To suddenly up and disappear without so much as a by your leave let alone a letter of resignation, was, to say the least, unforgivable”
He takes a moment to knock out his pipe into a cut glass ashtray set upon his desk. For the next few seconds he begins the laborious task of refilling the well used meerschaum,
“See that shelf of books over there?” he uses the pipe as a pointer to indicate several large, bound books nearby, “Those are but a small selection of the man’s works. He was, at one time, considered this Country’s foremost archaeology expert, his speciality being Pre-Romanic British culture and society of course”
He continues his pipe filling, “The University’s department was basically his child. He had during the years he was here, fitted it to his designs. His departure was as sudden as it was strange, one day he was here next he was gone”.
He finishes filling the pipe and striking a match begins lighting it amongst clouds of aromatic tobacco smoke. “Since his disappearance there has been no contact. So, gentlemen, how can I be of assistance?”